#if we started now it could probably be out for november 3rd....

[huoyd]

Please reblog this poll to spread it around 🥺🥺

#over the garden wall #otgw #wirt over the garden wall #greg otgw #greg over the garden wall #otgw wirt #patrick mchale #cartoon network #if we started now it could probably be out for november 3rd....

[phyrestartr]

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up? 

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do." 

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–" 

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago. 

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it  12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st  9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone  12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it  12:32am i need you  1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while  7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–" 

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up." 

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared. 

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?" 

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first." 

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity. 

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone. 

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."  

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head. 

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly. 

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised." 

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything? 

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus. 

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect. 

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh. 

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today." 

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?" 

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker." 

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!" 

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo." 

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son. 

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice. 

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York. 

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well. 

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood. 

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display. 

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know." 

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy." 

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over. 

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.” 

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.” 

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.” 

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.” 

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.” 

“Eh. I would.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him. 

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way. 

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art. 

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though. 

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him. 

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.” 

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face. 

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either. 

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks. 

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.” 

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place. 

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained. 

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–” 

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed. 

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah. 

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself. 

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right. 

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.” 

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.” 

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.” 

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open. 

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch. 

One minute passed. 

Then two minutes. 

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?” 

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness. 

Click. 

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards  their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity. 

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.” 

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her. 

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out. 

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–” 

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears. 

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?” 

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore." 

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone." 

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband. 

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise." 

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug. 

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet. 

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?" 

"Eh. Sometimes." 

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?" 

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?" 

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be. 

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now. 

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–" 

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?" 

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?" 

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered. 

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one." 

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?" 

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did." 

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered." 

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep. 

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow." 

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot." 

"No truck?" 

"None." 

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck." 

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked. 

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark. 

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–" 

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth. 

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out. 

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture. 

But you came home early. 

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason. 

 Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you? 

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you. 

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly. 

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded. 

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered. 

Something. Anything. 

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together. 

"How long?" You managed. 

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?" 

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?" 

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep." 

"Wait–" 

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped. 

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared. 

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–" 

"Miguel–" 

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me." 

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms. 

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight,  and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding. 

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” 

And he believed you. 

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning. 

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi. 

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store. 

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms. 

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?" 

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too. 

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong. 

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?" 

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess." 

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara." 

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after. 

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh. 

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never." 

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him. 

“Then come back with us.” 

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.” 

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know. 

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him. 

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–" 

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise. 

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle. 

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart. 

"I never did," he confessed. 

"Then why did you say it?" 

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it." 

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'" 

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly. 

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again." 

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–" 

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years. 

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up. 

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?” 

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel. 

“Oh,” she whispered. 

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do." 

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep. 

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.” 

"Miggs, don't say that. I–" 

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own. 

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–" 

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo." 

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him. 

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us." 

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too. 

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease. 

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too. 

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep. 

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area. 

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted. 

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh. 

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room." 

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home. 

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here." 

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash." 

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun." 

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?" 

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower." 

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy. 

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing." 

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories. 

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone. 

But then, he spied a locked folder. 

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed. 

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities. 

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away. 

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again. 

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.  

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better. 

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–" 

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me." 

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him. 

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places. 

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background. 

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back. 

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo." 

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.  

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect." 

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good." 

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me." 

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back." 

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?" 

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this–fuck. He was in trouble. 

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little." 

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss. 

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself. 

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight. 

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?" 

"No." 

You chuckled. "Okay." 

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me." 

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.” 

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said. 

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--” 

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease. 

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

[vettelsvee]

I WANNA BE THERE, WITH YOU | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: seb returns home after finishing the 2008 formula 1 season. everything seems to be going well for him except for his relationship with his girlfriend, hanna, who thinks that, as it is more than obvious, he's hiding something related to a certain toro rosso intern whom seb is so eager for redbull to hire.

word count: 6237

warnings: brief smut (oral, male receiving) and let's say horny moment but not exactly having sex. toxic behavior.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

"Seb, this is the first time you sit alone in front of all these cameras. How does it feel not to have Diana by your side?"

The German didn't find it amusing at all. After spending an incredible day and an even better night with his wife, he felt nothing but helplessness when they called him around six-fifteen in the morning to inform him that Diana couldn't be present in the first part of the recording since it would focus solely on him. Despite finding it very strange, he didn't object. They had a contract to follow, and as much as it hurt, he couldn't do what he wanted.

His anger was such that he didn't greet anyone when he arrived on set. He simply reluctantly dropped his belongings and sat in the chair hastily placed in the middle of the room, hoping the whole affair would end quickly. He didn't even speak to his former colleagues, who remained impassive to Vettel's behavior that morning.

"It's a damn shit, honestly," he answer sincerely and aggressively. "If you didn't want Diana here today, you could have let us know earlier."

"Seb..." Webber began cautiously. "It's not that she's not here because we don't want her, but because from now on, it's going to be like this. At least until this part of the story is over."

Seeing the confusion on the blonde's face, Mark signaled the cameras to turn off for a bit more privacy.

Sebastian wasn't understanding anything, and it overwhelmed him.

"But..."

"We're going to start talking about everything related to your relationship with Hanna," Jenson Button said without hesitation. "We're aware of everything it meant for two or three years in your relationship with Diana, so we don't want you to be influenced when explaining what you experienced with Prater."

"We think that if your wife isn't present when we record part of what concerns your ex, you'll be more honest."

Sebastian nodded. He couldn't argue with them because he'd be lying to himself. Although it was true that Diana had significantly improved her insecurities and had stopped comparing herself to her ex-girlfriend a long time ago, and they even became close friends, Sebastian knew that there were certain things she was better off not finding out, if possible, never. Although that was impossible: Diana was so perfectionistic that she would probably watch the entire documentary as soon as it was released.

"Perfect," the blonde said briefly. "Of course, you're right. Where do you want to start?"

"We already know your whole story: you met in class, then fell in love so much that you started dating the moment you left school," the Australian listed, receiving approvals from his former teammate. "So... how about we start with the end of the 2008 season?"

[...]

2008  November 3rd

The flight back to Germany was becoming exhausting, especially since Sebastian had been answering questions for various media outlets throughout the entire journey that began in Sao Paulo as a proposal established by his new team, Red Bull Racing.

Facing a camera and several spotlights, the German driver, who had completed his first whole Formula 1 season, felt quite intimidated. Despite portraying in press conferences and other types of conferences that he enjoyed the presence of the media and liked the attention focused on him, it was quite the opposite.

"It amuses me that we're talking about the 2008 season as if ten years had passed when it ended just a few hours ago."

Despite being tired of the situation and eagerly wishing to get home to be with his family and girlfriend, his sense of humor was still there. The decision to take the first flight back immediately after the race was not his, but his younger sister Lara's. Lara was eager to hug and play with Sebastian, even go to therapy with him, everything she hadn't done for the past few months. A few pleas and some puppy-dog eyes were more than enough to convince the driver.

"Looking back, it's been an incredible year, no doubt," he commented sincerely. "Toro Rosso has been a great team that has supported me from the very beginning and, above all, has made me feel at home."

The twenty-year-old laughed before continuing, earning approval from his public relations, who at that moment seemed to be a teacher examining him orally.

"Winning a race for the first time, and in Monza, was incredible. And all thanks to Diana..." Oops, he had slipped up. "The team intern, a great friend of mine... well, colleague," he tried to correct himself, stumbling over his own words. "Let's see, not that either. She's just another team member, you know."

If this were a test, he would already be failing with honors. Britta's face in those moments only showed the desire to kill him, something she would gladly do if Sebastian Vettel weren't her main source of income, as well as a very nice guy who became a very important person for her.

"Can you tell us more about this Diana?" the accompanying journalist inquired, wanting to know more about the unknown figure.

"Of course!" he replied cheerfully, ignoring the pleading looks Roeske was throwing at him to avoid continuing the topic. "We're not best of friends, of course, but we have been a significant support for each other during the ups and downs of racing,nd perhaps also for personal reasons," he pointed out, recalling the numerous races he couldn't finish, "Wagner often has incredible ideas, but there are more than a few idiots on the team who only see her as a lapdog to do this or that," he explained. "Even I, myself, have doubted her, but who wouldn't! However, that doesn't mean I don't trust her. I actually trust her a quite a lot," he added.

Britta was looking at him with a very unfriendly face, even starting to wave her hands to get his attention and make him shut up. She knew that a great majority of her client's words were invented and wouldn't serve any purpose other than creating controversy and turning people against him.

"To be honest, there were times when I worried about her antics and the high chances of them sending me into the gravel," the blonde continued, disregarding the gestures from the woman in front of him, "but in Monza nothing happened, thankfully!"

The reporter remained immersed in the conversation, which again focused on Vettel's overall performance in the season. He tried to insert some more personal questions, but either the German was so absorbed in the wonderful professional year he had, or he skillfully avoided them, not panicking when hearing them.

"So, can we assume that the relationship between Diana Wagner and you goes beyond the professional?"

"Excuse me, but I believe we've already talked enough about certain aspects of my client's privacy," Britta intervened, seeing that the conversation might head in an unpleasant direction. "The agreement when this interview was arranged was to talk about Sebastian Vettel's performance at Toro Rosso before his move to Red Bull, not about his appearance on a gossip show, which is what this seems to have turned into," she stated rather abruptly.

Sebastian shrugged, unsure of what to say to the woman's remarks, simultaneously fearing that he might say something foolish and make matters worse.

"But, Sebastian, could you confirm, at least, the rumors about the hotel night you shared during the Italian Grand Prix with that girl?" the man continued, ignoring Britta's previous signals.

"This is going too far," Britta almost shouted. Having lost her patience, she leaned toward the journalist and spoke in a low but firm voice. "Your behavior with my client is unacceptable. You ither leave this area right now, or I'll have to call security and our lawyers. Your choice," she backed away, giving him a very fake smile.

He seemed surprised and somewhat reluctant to the threat. Eventually, he yielded to Roeske's authority, gathering his belongings with his team and immediately withdrawing from the VIP area of the plane while muttering some low protests or insults that the Germans didn't hear.

Britta looked at Sebastian disdainfully, who simply shrugged as if he had done nothing. Britta sighed.

"Seb, you have to be more careful about what you say out there," she explained as calmly as she could. "You can't speak so openly about certain topics if you want your relationship with Hanna to remain private."

"I know, Britta," he sighed, admitting he had made a mistake but, at the same time, not understanding what was wrong with talking about Diana. "Sometimes I don't think before I speak, and I mess up."

"You need to be careful when saying anything related to Diana," Roeske continued, ignoring Vettel's words. "If you don't want to mess up your relationship, of course. I understand that you two get along pretty well, but what you do or say about this girl can be misunderstood. Don't you remember the photos from Monza?" she inquired, making the driver lower his head, embarrassed. "How you called me immediately to say everyone it was me when clearly, it wasn't, and everyone knew it?"

The public relations' anger was increasing, while Sebastian tried to come up with excuses to stop her from lecturing him. He was too tired. He wanted to sleep and get home as soon as possible, eat something, say a few silly things to his younger sister, and go to sleep. Or do something more fun, alone, with his girlfriend.

"Just say she's just a good friend, nothing else," he said downplaying it and curling up in his seat. "You don't have to worry about it. It's nonsense."

Britta frowned and crossed her arms.

"Don't play smart with me, Vettel," she increased the seriousness of her voice. Now she had the boy's full attention. "I know you too well. I'm not telling you not to be friends, but I know there's something more than just a friendship, and you see it as something you'd like to have but, for one reason or another, you can't," Sebastian's face turned marble-colored. Roeske was right, but he was too proud to admit it. "I'm telling you all this for your own good, but if you want your relationship with Hanna to continue as it is, you need to set boundaries. Also," she added, "you know perfectly well that you're playing with Wagner, and I wouldn't want you to hurt her."

"Britta: Diana is an amazing person and very important in my life, but not in the way you're thinking," lie. "I see her as a little sister," another lie, "someone I trust and who, actually, understands me," that was true. "I have no intention of ruining my relationship with Hanna, really."

For now, that's what came to the German's mind, but as soon as he could, he tried to shake off that thought from his subconscious. Sometimes he hated himself to levels he never thought anyone could hate him, not even the guys who had been so envious of him throughout his short life.

The blonde sighed, trying to believe the boy given the conviction his words seemed to have.

"I hope so, Seb. I just want you to make smart decisions and think about the consequences of everything you say, not just for you but for those you care about. They're not to blame for anything you do or say," she commented, trying to reason with him and make sure he remembered the talk they were having.

He nodded sincerely, reclining again in search of a comfortable position to sleep for the remainder of the flight. Britta, mimicking him, leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes, but she could hear Sebastian calling her again.

"What do you want now, Seb?"

"Thanks for everything," he said sincerely, his voice slightly drowsy from fatigue.

She settled back, and, accompanied by Sebastian's soft snores and the constant hum of the engine, fell asleep, just like her companion.

His sleep was interrupted after what seemed like a few minutes, although the reality was that about two hours had passed. A voice over the loudspeaker announcing that they had arrived in Cologne, their destination, startled Roeske, who opened her eyes abruptly and looked around for a few seconds, a bit confused and experiencing a sudden dizziness. Sebastian was still next to her, sound asleep. Without wasting a second, she approached him and began shaking him to wake him up. For security reasons, they needed to exit the plane before anyone else to avoid encounters with fans.

"Wake up!" Britta shouted in his ear. Seb just purred like a cat, turning around and holding onto the pillow he had in his grasp. "Come on, Sebastian. We've already arrived in Cologne."

Another unintelligible murmur emerged from the lips of the German, who seemed trapped in a dream he was enjoying. The woman realized he had reset his mind in just a few hours and already had it in vacation mode, and that was starting to test her patience again. She took a deep breath and tried to wake him up again.

"Sebastian Vettel, wake up!" she shouted more energetically, earning glances from some of the people present. "We've already landed in Cologne, so don't linger anymore and get up now," she urged, even shaking him to see if it had more effect.

The driver finally opened his eyes, although he was totally disoriented. He uttered some imperceptible words in his native language for Roeske and rubbed his eyes as he stretched, then looked at the woman totally bewildered.

"What's wrong with you?" he murmured sleepily. "Have you had a psychotic episode and need help?"

Britta turned her gaze, impassive to the what the boy said. She was relieved because at least he was awake, even if he was about to surrender to Morpheus again.

"We've landed in Cologne already," she repeated for the third time, now with a more relaxed tone. "We have to pick up what little we have here and get off now," she declared authoritatively. "You know the arrival of a celebrity, fans, and screams are not a good combination."

And she knew it very well. Both Germans began to tidy up the mess they had caused throughout the flight, folding the blankets provided by the airline and throwing away the remnants of food they had been offered. Shortly after, they made sure they didn't leave anything behind and left the cabin they were in.

As they exited the plane and waited for the relevant security members, the PR started explaining Seb's plans for the next few days. They discussed various prearranged interviews, promotional events he had to attend for some brands, and above all, she emphasized the meeting the young man would have with the team later that week to finalize the details of his contract. Even though the holiday period had begun, the schedule was full, and his responsibilities didn't end as soon as Vettel set foot out of the cockpit.

Shortly afterward, the security guards who would accompany them to the exit of the facility appeared. Britta and Sebastian introduced themselves, although they knew the latter perfectly, and received the corresponding professional greetings. One of them, a robust man with an attentive gaze, indicated that they would accompany them, for the time being, to the area for picking up checked baggage.

"I hope you had a good flight, Mr. Vettel, Mrs. Roeske," he announced as they walked quickly through the long corridors of the airport.

"Within the measure of what you can expect from a flight of almost fourteen hours, yes," Britta replied, still smiling.

Sebastian agreed with her, also adding his thanks for caring about his safety and being there with them at that moment to avoid any altercations.

"It's part of our job."

As they began to approach the conveyor belts with hundreds of suitcases from the just-landed international flights, Britta began to notice, in the distance, the presence of several fans who were beginning to gather to see Sebastian. They looked tired, and the blonde wondered how long they had been waiting for his arrival. The security guards also seemed to notice this, as a few more appeared within seconds, surrounding the celebrity in a somewhat alarming way.

Sebastian turned to his PR confused, and gave her a smile.

"Not many usually come," the German commented honestly, "but they never cease to amaze me... How can they always know what time we arrive? Is there someone leaking that information?"

"That's what being a rising star in Formula 1 is like," Britta chuckled softly. "Calm down: you deserve this more than anyone, even if sometimes you want to tell them to go to hell."

The noise of the crowd intensified as they advanced toward the arrivals area of the airport, now with their suitcases with them. The fans' shouts began to resonate loudly, filling the atmosphere with a very positive yet somewhat distressing energy. The security guards kept the more excited ones at bay, who might try to do something crazy; meanwhile, the pilot and PR greeted and smiled enthusiastically.

Sebastian didn't hesitate to drop his suitcase and start approaching the crowd, even though they were telling him otherwise. If the German was there, it was not only because of his effort but also because of the people in front of him at that moment who had decided to put their trust in him.

"Sebastian, I love you!"

"Can you sign my cap?"

"Next year, we want you to come back home with a championship!"

The cheers of excitement and flashes of cameras became increasingly present, all in an attempt to capture the attention of the German sensation. Seb smiled, waved, shook hands, took photos, and signed anything that anyone put in front of him, with gratitude and maintaining professionalism as much as possible, although it was a bit challenging for him.

"Guys, calm down!" the blonde raised his voice, trying to calm the crowd. "I'll be with you as long as they let me, so I'll try to make sure each of you get something from me!"

The young man spent a long time signing caps, shirts, and photographs while briefly chatting with some of those in the front rows. Britta could only smile as she kept an eye on the security guards, who seemed more than accustomed to that kind of massive gathering.

"Sorry, Mr. Vettel, but it's time to go. There are also two people waiting for you in the VIP lounge," commented the security man with whom they had exchanged words, who was already taking him by the elbow and moving him away from the crowd. Sebastian was a bit surprised: who could be waiting for him? "More people are coming, and we can't risk anything serious happening."

"Understood, thank you," the driver answered. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

After turning his back on the man and shaking off his grip, Vettel quickly apologized to the fans and said goodbye as best he could, promising them that the coming season would be much more promising. Roeske remained by his side despite the overwhelm she was starting to feel. The woman's relief was present as the security guards surrounded them and hurriedly led them to what seemed to be the other end of the airport.

"Feeling calmer?" Britta asked her client.

"Not really," Sebastian replied. "I'm a bit nervous because they told me someone was waiting for me," he explained, trying to calm his anxiety. "I don't know who could be in the VIP lounge they're taking us to."

The woman diverted her gaze from the boy and chuckled quietly. She had planned that little surprise for him a few days ago because he deserved it. She knew that fatigue and jet lag, combined with the boredom of the interviews during the long flight, had taken a toll on him. Still, she hoped that when his eyes landed on his father and his girlfriend, who had been waiting for them for quite some time, his spirits would lift.

As the room appeared before them, Sebastian could recognize two slightly blurry figures, which increased his nervousness. Britta just restrained her laughter and, why not, her excitement. After approaching a bit more leisurely, the first thing the blue-eyed pilot noticed was a message written in a font he recognized perfectly: "You're finally back, champion of my heart."

"Seb!"

Hanna, who was a few meters away but right in front of him, couldn't contain her excitement and ran to greet him, not caring who was watching them and letting the sign she had been preparing for days fall instead of studying. Seb, totally moved, opened his arms to receive his girlfriend, whom he lifted slightly when she reached him. Still above him, she kissed him calmly, as if there were only the two of them in the room, while Prater clung to his waist with her legs to avoid falling, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Laughter began to spread between the young lovers after finishing the kiss. Finally, they were living the moment they had longed for so much.

"My God, Hanna... I can't believe I'm finally here, with you."

The German, without taking his eyes off his girlfriend, lowered her to the ground, still hugging her. The blonde could only look at him with emotion, not believing that the love of her life was finally by her side. She took his face in her hands with affection and began to distribute short kisses all over his face.

"I've missed you so much..." Sebastian whispered, putting his forehead against hers and caressing her hair tenderly.

"I've missed you too," she revealed, "and you have no idea how much."

All the couple wanted at that moment was to give each other all the love they hadn't been able to profess for months. Still, the fear of being caught by paparazzi and fans, in addition to the presence of Norbert Vettel, Britta Roeske, and possibly the entire airport security team in Cologne, made them relax a bit.

And thankfully so, because Sebastian knew that, as tired as he was, if Hanna continued to throw him those looks that expressed something more than romance, he was going to end up in the bathrooms with her doing what he had wished to do to her for months.

"Well, well, young man, aren't you going to leave anything for the man who gave you life?"

Norbert interrupted the moment between the lovers, and quickly, they separated their hands, which were still intertwined. Sebastian ran with excitement to hug his father, whom he had missed more than he initially thought.

"For me, my wife comes first," the young man declared, focusing his gaze on the blonde. "That's what you taught me. Or am I wrong?"

His father nodded, crossing his arms.

"Whatever you say," the man said, proud of his son.

He picked up his son's suitcases and headed towards the exit door, where he had parked the family vehicle a bit haphazardly. His wife, Heike, had started calling him. She had been quite insistent in the past few days about their son's return home, so it wouldn't be wise to ignore her call if he wanted to avoid an argument with her.

"Seb, remember that in a week we have the meeting in Berlin with Horner, Marko, and the others," the PR reminded. Vettel began to snort and threw his head back in reproach. "Don't do that!" Britta scolded him, "you know we have to finalize the details of your contract for the next season."

"A meeting? Again? I thought we were on vacation!"

One day, that guy was going to test the woman's patience.

"Darling, calm down," Hanna intervened, taking his hand affectionately and squeezing him. "Don't make Britta angry, you know she's doing this for you. I'd like to know where you would be if it weren't for her!"

Norbert, who was with his son's luggage near the exit, listening to his wife urging him impatiently, let out an exclamation with a tone louder than he would have liked.

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. He hated that they didn't understand his sarcasm despite boasting that they knew him well. Now he was alone, with the woman who had become his second mother, as his girlfriend had approached Norbert, and they were now engrossed in a suggestive conversation about who knows what.

"All right, all right! I was just joking," the young man directed his gaze directly at Roeske, and for once, she could see seriousness in his eyes. "I thought you knew."

"It's reached a point where I don't know if you're laughing with us or at us, Vettel," Britta replied, emphasizing the latter.

"It's serious, Britta," the blonde insisted, "I'll prepare what you asked for..."

The mentioned woman didn't give Sebastian a chance to finish the sentence. Making sure Hanna was still focused on her father-in-law's words, she looked at the pilot seriously, trying to make him listen carefully and remember her words before committing any madness he might regret in the coming months.

"Seb, I need you to take the decision about Wagner seriously," she articulated firmly. "I don't want you to include her in the team out of pity," she diverted her gaze towards the blonde before continuing, "or due to some personal feeling."

"I think she has what it takes to shine," the boy whispered. "I don't know how many times or to whom else I have to say it."

The older blonde nodded, not very convinced of the boy's words; she couldn't say anything else because Sebastian's family approached to inform him that Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, was eager for her son to arrive home, as well as his two younger siblings.

While he heard the farewells between his father and his girlfriend and Roeske, and as they approached the car, got in and headed towards their hometown, Sebastian Vettel thought again, before falling asleep on the way back home, about the last words he had shared with Britta. He promised himself that this person would not cross his mind again during the winter break of 2008, but it was inevitable for him to dream of Diana Wagner giving him orders on the track and celebrating his second victory with him, all while his head rested on his girlfriend's shoulders.

[...]

The first dinner back home with his parents, his girlfriend and his two younger siblings, Fabian and Lara, had gone better than he had imagined. Even Heike, the matriarch of the Vettel family, encouraged Hanna to stay overnight with her son, considering how much they had missed each other. After a somewhat rushed dessert due to the sleep consuming Sebastian, the couple decided to retire early with the intention of going to sleep. They would talk and do everything they wanted the next day.

The room where Sebastian had slept almost all his life was shrouded in darkness, with the only trickle of light coming from the full moon that adorned the sky that night. Hanna, before making sure the room's door was closed, felt Sebastian's lips starting to travel her neck. She sighed softly, feeling excitement starting to fill her, especially between her legs, as Sebastian's lips only left a trail of kisses all over her skin. The intensity of the moment increased when the driver's hands went towards the girl's breasts. Hanna moaned as subtly as she could and fiercely kissed the blonde, pulling him closer to her.

They both wanted more. The voracious hunger they felt for each other was evident. They had been in a sexless state, between Vettel's absences and Prater's studies, since the summer when they had decided to take a short trip to Berlin. No matter how hard they tried to control themselves, they couldn't stop kissing each other. The fabric that clothed them began to disappear, bringing them closer and making them lie on the bed with only their underwear, even rubbing desperately against each other.

However, the girl couldn't continue when she thought she heard, amid one of her boyfriend's moans, what seemed to be the fourth letter of the alphabet.

Hanna lifted herself slightly, looking directly at the blue-eyed man, still lying down, with a somewhat strange mix of passion and confusion.

"What did you just say?"

Sebastian blinked, sitting up as quickly as he could.

"Say?" he paled. "I didn't say anything, Hanna."

His girlfriend wore a displeased expression, still puzzled by the sound she thought she heard. At that moment, doubts began to invade her, and images of Sebastian with the intern, Diana, in Monza, along with rumors about the night they had spent together, flooded her mind. Desire, doubt, and concern were the three emotions that began to overwhelm her; she also felt fear and, above all, insecurity.

While Hanna knew that her boyfriend had a strictly professional relationship with the girl, she couldn't help but think that maybe something more had happened between them.

"Seb, I...," began the blonde, trying to keep her tears in check, "I need you to explain who Diana Wagner is and why everyone associates her with you."

Sebastian sighed, took a breath, and, as he had done several times before, explained who the blonde was:

"Diana is just a girl studying Mechanical Engineering at a university in Barcelona, doing an internship at Toro Rosso," the guy explained. "That's it. There's nothing more to it, Hanna."

The girl didn't seem convinced. Her boyfriend always ended up giving her the same speech, and he had said the same thing so many times that she had memorized those words, pauses included.

"I know you might worry about our relationship," Seb continued, soft but firm, "but there's nothing beyond a professional relationship." He left out the part about their friendship.

"Why did you arrive in the paddock with her, then?" Hanna asked again. "And why do all the journalists now ask you about her? And the hotel room...?"

"I'll repeat it, love: she's part of the team," he explained again, cutting her off and trying not to lose patience. "Everything gets taken out of context just to sell a bit. As for the hotel room," he added, "she was just helping me with some strategies that helped me win in Monza."

Hanna tried to believe him, but she couldn't. She knew it wasn't the German's fault, but hers for having so little trust in herself. Although the hatred she had for Diana Wagner was well deserved... Who did that girl think she was to be with her boyfriend like that?

No, she couldn't think like that. That was being a toxic person.

"She's a temporary worker," the girl suddenly exclaimed angrily, catching Sebastian completely off guard, "not a track engineer as such."

"She helps me, and I like her company. She's very pleasant," the blonde finally admitted. "I don't know why you're making a drama out of all this when I've literally explained a thousand times that she's not someone I care about."

Tension was escalating rapidly, and an uncomfortable silence enveloped the room suddenly. Sebastian knew he shouldn't have said that last part because he did care about his colleague; however, Hanna's incessant words and apparent lack of trust were confusing him.

"Hanna, I feel nothing but pity for Diana, okay? That's why I requested in my contract, and I'll keep insisting at Saturday's meeting, for her to accompany me at Red Bull," he explained desperately. "There's no other reason beyond that, I swear."

"I'm not making a scene or anything," she said, returning to the previous conversation and avoiding her boyfriend's latest revelation. "I'm just trying to vent with you."

Sebastian's patience was wearing thin. He no longer knew what else to do to make the girl beside him believe him.

"I love you, Hanna," Vettel said sincerely. "Why do you think, since those photos came out, that I'm hiding something from you?"

"I don't know, why have I never been to a race?" The girl looked at her boyfriend with sadness and frustration once again present in her mind.

Sebastian sighed, trying to find the right words. He knew she was having one of the many jealous episodes she'd been having since she found out about Wagner.

"You know as much as I do that you don't like races," he reminded her. "Plus, you wouldn't enjoy the paddock life. You even told me to keep this private!"

"Are you saying you want to hide me, don't you?"

"Stop twisting this and listen when I speak. You say whatever comes to your mind. This conversation makes no sense, Hanna," Sebastian imposed, a bit annoyed by the confusion his girlfriend was adding to the situation. "One thing is wanting to hide you, which I don't want to do," he clarified, "and another is wanting to protect our relationship, which is what you've been professing since I was called to be a reserve driver last season."

The room's atmosphere was tense, and neither of the twenty-year-olds knew how to proceed. Sebastian was tired not only of having to repeat the same story to Hanna a thousand times but also of her apparent lack of trust. On the other hand, Hanna had been trapped in a vicious circle of jealousy and envy for months, driven by the need to compete and prove herself better than a certain Diana, whom she didn't even know.

After a brief silence, Hanna finally spoke, trying to hide the idea that had come to her mind:

"I've thought about something..."

"What?" Sebastian looked at her with curiosity, a bit scared of what she might say.

Hanna faked a smile too well. Her eyes, however, betrayed her intentions, although Sebastian was too blinded and distracted to notice:

"Starting next season, I want to accompany you on some weekends, as long as the university allows it, of course," the driver was totally surprised by the girl's statement, who continued speaking. "I've been thinking that it would be nice to stop being so perfectionist in my studies to spend more time with you."

"Of course!" Seb exclaimed happily, giving her a hug, unaware that she was lying, despite knowing her so well. "Don't worry about anything. We can plan everything and find weeks when you don't have exams or any assignments to submit with Britta next week, okay? She already has the schedule for next year, and..."

Hanna nodded slightly, indifferent to the future damage she might cause to her, until then, boyfriend, who continued talking quite excitedly. She knew she wasn't behaving rationally, and envy was driving her actions, but why not? She had too often felt like the banished princess by her relatives, teachers, and people she had no relationship with, and the last thing she wanted was to relive that experience.

She loved Sebastian, and he loved her. Nothing and no one would stand in their way, and if she couldn't face the enemy with peace, she would try to do it with as little chaos as possible.

"I'm looking forward to you meeting Diana," Seb declared, causing a turmoil inside his girlfriend. "You'll get along well, I'm sure. You're more alike than you think."

"I'm also looking forward to meeting her, especially now that you told me she helped you win in Monza."

Hanna forced a smile, hiding her true feelings about the unknown woman. Sometimes, it was okay to be a little toxic to make your partner see reality, right?

Sebastian got closer to his girlfriend, placed his right hand on her face, caressing it gently, and kissed her on the lips. His eyes were fixed on hers, revealing nothing but sincerity.

"Hanna, you're the most important thing in my life, okay? There's nothing I haven't told you, and if something had happened, you'd know for sure," he clarified again. "You are my world and all I want is to be with you for as long as we allow ourselves to be together."

Hanna felt hurt and even guilty at that moment, regretting everything she had said without thinking, but it was too late to go back and repent. She tried, by all means, to set aside that kind of teenage game she had created consumed by wanting to prove to her boyfriend who she was, but she couldn't.

Now she had to try not to let herself be carried away and, above all, think before speaking and acting.

Without thinking, she pushed Sebastian as hard as she could, who raised himself a little above the surface to see what the blonde was going to do. She planted a rather aggressive kiss on her lips, and she lingered on it for a while before beginning to leave a trail of them from her mouth to her inguinal crease. She wanted to show the pilot many things, but in those moments she wanted to make him see that she was his.

Sebastian watched as Hanna began to take off his boxers and masturbate his member with her hand, taking it to her mouth a few seconds later. No matter how much pleasure he was feeling at that moment when he noticed how his girlfriend's tongue wrapped around his bud while she moved her hand incessantly, he couldn't help but feel bad when he wished, and even imagined, that Diana was the one doing that.

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x female oc #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #angst #smut #sebastian vettel smut #history #sebastian vettel history #diana vettel

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday Arei Naegishi!

I am so bad at remembering birthdays I almost missed this one. But it's still the third in my time zone, so I'm still gonna do it! Arei's our birthday girl, and the best character ever (<- her opinion) gets a birthday post too! Spoilers below the cut as always.

-Arei's backstory was revealed in CH 2 EP 5. She was bullied heavily by her sisters, Fuyuko and Natsuko, and we see an example of them doing so by forcefully cutting part of the right side of her hair. You can even see, to this day, she seems to have more hair on her left than on her right. She also mentions "If [she] had to go to the hospital once or twice, then it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience for [her sisters]." Which, uh, huh. That's... quite awful. The point is that Arei hated her life back then, and rightfully hated her sisters as well.

-Despite that, it seems Arei tried to be kind for the longest time. She's far from an innately cruel person, but eventually, she felt the only way out was turning the table on her sisters and starting to bully them. Her secret is "Blackmailing, rumors, lying, stealing, slander. You did everything you could to ruin your sisters' lives" and she confessed that she framed them for everything she could to get them unlawfully sent to reform school. This included planting things in their bags and lying to authorities, as well as driving her mother's car into a ditch and blaming it on her sister drunk driving. Okay so bullying is maybe an understatement but the idea stands.

-And it worked! She managed to get them sent to reform school, and her life improved drastically. Morally dubious queen shit, etc. However, this made her develop a harmful ideology that being kind is a weakness and will get you treated badly. Which is why she acts unnecesarily mean during the killing game.

-However, deep down, Arei is still nice. She doesn't really like doing the things she does, she just feels they're necessary for her to survive. Even right before her secret reveal, she was trying to justify her actions to herself, saying it's normal for people to be like her:

Arei (laughing nervously): You [David] do want to hear my secret after all. As I guessed, everyone has that burning curiosity inside of them to hear bad things about other people. It's not just me.

-Which is why Eden's existence led her to a breakdown. Because Eden is nice and kind and is exactly the type of person Arei thinks would be destroyed in """the real world.""" And yet, Eden keeps going, she's still nice. Eden is what Arei wishes she could have been, she sees her past Arei in current Eden. Which is why she bullied her originally; to "teach her how the world works." Because Arei doesn't want to do real harm, so it's better if she does it than someone else later down the line.

-That doesn't go well. She breaks down in front of David, who comforts her quite successfully... so much so that she seems to forget she wanted to talk to David about his secret oops.

-This is what leads to her apologizing to Eden and promising to be her friend and a better person... and then she died. Well, under the most common interpretation.

-Her birthday lands on November 3rd, just three days after Ace's. This coincides with:

+Fountain Pen Day (Min reference?)

+National Sandwich Day.

+National Homemaker Day.

+Jellyfish Day. (?)

+Give Someone a Dollar Day (??)

+Love Your Lawyer Day (???????)

Among other things. I still have no idea where these come from.

-The roman numeral assigned to her in the LGI MV is IV (4), a number associated with death because yeeeeaaaah... This is: "right now, why do you cry?"

Ignoring the intentional mistranslation, this is probably just referencing Arei's breakdown in the playground.

-Color Theory (I'm sorry but I'm done linking that post) assigns her... well, I believe dark blue, so I'm going with that. This is cry, big and the Mandarin laugh (哈哈哈) in the rain scene.

(The good thing about having done this fucking video is that I have all the damn screenshots you could ever ask for in relation to it)

"Cry" for the same reasoning as her numeral. "Big" in this context is "proud", which fits. And the laugh is long to explain, but basically it's the "applause crew" (Cheery David, Xander, Hu, Arei) overwhelming David. Watch that part of the video for a better explanation.

-Arei had an FTE with J, which she starts off by tickling her, later claiming she would, uhm.

Arei: I'll tie you down and force you to wear maid dresses and bunny suits until you change your mind! [About acting girly]

Arei what. This screenshot feels like it should be fake what do you mean it's canon. It's great, don't get me wrong, it just feels extremely outta pocket. Listen, I (aro/ace) don't feel qualified to unpack whatever the fuck is going on here, I'm just gonna leave this to the shippers.

-What I will unpack is the other stuff in the FTE related to Arei. Which is-

Arei: C'mere! I'll tickle you until you laugh so hard that your heart stops! Then I'll defibrillate you and tickle you some more! Tickle tickle tickle!

I said the OTHER stuff

-Mainly, that she feels like being the favorite child would be great (you can figure out why yourself I imagine), and she likes acting girly.

-We also learn she categorizes people based on how she likes to bully them. "Cool and suave wannabe boys" like J (as in, she acts like a boy who tries and fails to be cool and suave), "spineless pushovers" like Levi (she "uses as maids"), "adorably sweet people" like Eden (she """likes""" to make them cry), and the people who don't like her, which would presumably include her sisters, as she says she likes to destroy these people's lives. Foreshadowing!

Fun facts!

-She likes gossip and dislikes being ignored.

-Her subtitle quote in the cast page is "If I tell you a secret, will you promise to keep it?" Which is insane foreshadowing given the chapter she (allegedly) died in.

-Her secret quote is "Because that’s what friends do", which she said to Eden in the trial flashback. The quote associated to her in Mai's page is "She doesn’t like it when her friends fight." Friendship is evidently something of a running theme.

-She likes "cute" food (?), her favorite color is azure (because she's blue), her favorite ice cream flavor is birthday cake flavor (oh, fitting!). Her least favorite color is green because it "looks like puke", which... I wonder if it has something to do with being bullied by her sisters given the apparent hospital visits.

-Her name in Kanji is written 投石【なげ ・ いし】亜鈴【あ ・ れい】. Cool! Don't know what any of that means.

-Like most of the cast, her hair color is natural and she's American.

-She's ambidextrous! The only ambidextrous person in the cast, in fact, and the only one apart from Teruko to not be a righty.

Finally songs!

+Candle Queen by Ghost & Pals (literally her song, don't @ me)

+Those Who Carried On by Ghost & Pals (it's sorta a similar attitude to how she felt about Eden, do you see my vision?)

+SCAPEG∞AT by Ghost & Pals (I will make you all listen to Ghost & Pals!)

+Perfectly Sweet by Vane Lily

+Karma by CreepP

+Bad B!tch Magic by HalaCG + others

+i DO what i WANT by KIRA

+Aishite by Kikuo

+It's Not My Fault by DECO*27 (listen Milgram had to bleed into these eventually)

+Teen Idle by Marina and the Diamonds (again I think it works)

+Pyrite Girl by RIProducer / RIP (I think it works kinda at least)

And Happy Birthday! Hope you enjoy some birthday cake ice cream, girl! Go do it!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt spoilers #arei nageishi #character birthday

[ricesoupremacy]

elaboration on the "not aro" part:

i met a girl. she's an eleventh grader. we started talking last year in june. in november, stuff started getting um. romantic. i think. there were a lot of hugs in november. december beginning we started to sneak away during event stuff to be alone. we knew something was up between us, but we didn't talk about it, just went with the flow. after vacations started, we confessed to each other at around 2 am in end december. she is so fucking beautiful and nice and adorable and she's an artist right? she made me a portrait 😭 it's not a replica of me but she tried to do the features but good god. i love her so so much. she crochets. she crocheted me a pink heart. her hugs are so damn comfy. i'm probably embarrassing myself but man i could pine forever.

so yes. yours truly is in love. and god it feels awesome.

off topic but the first line reminded me of bad girls club by falling in reverse omgs SNEAKING AWAY FOR ALONE TIME IS PEAK ROMANTIC BEHAVIOUR I'M SO PROUD OF YOU 2 AM ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHY AM I NOT LIVING A LIFE LIKE THIS WHY IS BEING GAY SO HARD DID YOU DO THE 3RD DECEMBER SWEATER THINGY I JUST FOUND OUT IT'S A THING in 2023 I'M LIVING UNDER A ROCK pardon the caps fuck it THE CAPS ARE BACK SHE MADE YOU A PORTRAIT?? SHE MADE YOU A- *screams* nah she CROCHETS TOO??? bye i need like 2 weeks of bed rest to recover nawww what do you mean embarrassing yourself i've said way worse to you. this is so cute i'm so happy for you hshjsjhsjsk can you adopt me please

INSANE i'm not gonna lie it is a good feeling when they love you back. wow. raag this is incredible. if i'm not wrong this has been a great year for you, what with finding love and being sports captain and winning races ooff they grow up so fast 🥹

and since uh. you shared. i mean it's not transactional or anything i really wanted to tell you but you were busy i guess and oh you'll be having boards rn i hope that's going well !! but. ALSO. YA BOI PULLED. I PULLED. FINALLY. BAHAHJAHAJA I SCORED A GUY FASTER THAN HE SCORES BASKETS HE'S SO PERFECT I LOVE HIM HE'S BEEN GIVING ME CHOCOLATE FOR A WEEK NOW BECAUSE APPARENTLY THERE'S SOMETHING CALLED VALENTINE'S WEEK. fuck. i finally understand what aristotle from the book meant when he said he was afraid of dante. i'm afraid of him. i'm afraid of how he makes my brain short-circuit when i'm with him and how we make the same stupidly corny jokes and pickup lines and how he chooses to not go home by bus and instead walks extra to the public bus stop just so he can wALK HOME WITH ME and gets all shy when he asks if we can hold hands and how he gets this look when random uncles on the road see us so i flip them off because i'm not afraid of shit anymore and how he laughs when i say some stupid shit and how he sends me recordings of him playing guitar and singing songs and by GOD his voice is beautiful and he's beautiful. he's beautiful. god.

#i really feel like i can do anything #like cmon #i broke a guy's nose in a fight #why should i hold back from doing dumb stuff and being happy anymore #i'm tired of that #about damn time i got a boyfriend i'm not going to overthink like i usually do #i took the plunge raag #i took the plunge by confessing and it worked out #so #i guess that's good #yey #are you proud #raag best beloved

[heaven-s-black-box]

Just Kiss pt.2- Destiel

Return to File

Recovery date: December 3rd, 2020

Description: Kindergarten teacher Dean is crushing on some of this students' uncle. According to the students, they really just need to kiss.

Notes: You can find the first entry here.

Word count: 798

Back to directory

“Who does he think he is?!”

Sam sighed as he listened to another one of Dean’s rants. This always happened when the brothers went out for drinks on friday nights. Sam would rant about something going on with a case, not that Dean was listening, and then Dean would rant about annoying parents or something really stupid a student did.

“I mean, I always assumed he was good looking under that stupid coat but I think my heart almost stopped.” 

“What? I thought you were mad at this guy?”

“Nooooo,” Dean practically whined. “He’s this stupidly hot uncle that I only ever see like one a month. I don’t even know what he does!”

“So you’ve seen him…” Sam thought for a moment, “Three times?”

“Five… and a-” Dean hiccuped, “a half.”

“How do you see someone a half time?”

“He was in the car when Jack and Belphegor’s mom picked them up, I saw him through the window. He waved at me,” Dean giggled.

“Then ask him out.”

“I- I can’t do that, it would be un-unprofessional.”

“Normally I’d agree, but it’s not like he’s their dad. So it makes it a little better, at least in my opinion.” Dean’s brow furrowed, and he pouted, as he thought over what Sam had said. “Anyways, my office is having a christmas party-”

“It’s November.”

“We get very busy in december. And since Eileen’s back in Ireland, I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“A law office christmas party? Sounds boring. ‘Sides, who brings their brother to a christmas party.”

“It’s not that boring, I promise. And quite a few people, last year I think the entire Shurley family showed up. But that probably had something-”

“Shurley?” Dean’s eyes lit up.

“Ya?”

“When is it?”

---

Now, as Dean stood in the corner of Sam’s office party, he had to wonder why he thought Cas would be there. Maybe it was because he always wore a suit, or maybe it was because Sam had said the whole Shurley family had shown up. But as the clock ticked away, he hadn’t seen him. Dean was starting to feel stupid.

“If you’re gonna hide in a corner, you can leave,” Sam said, walking over.

The law office was small, both in personal and space. The room was almost packed, and there were only about thirty people. But that could have been because of the desks and table of food and drinks. 

“Awww, don’t want your big bro here? You invited me.”

“Ya, to make friends your age,” Sam laughed. “But you’ve been practically moping in the corner all evening.”

Dean looked down at his cup.

“Are the Shurley’s here?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, before pointing out a small group. “That’s Michael, his youngest brother and our newest recruit Samandriel, and their cousin Balthazar. There’s usually more of them, we don’t even invite half of them, they just show up. But one of their brothers is just running late.”

“Does he work here?”

“Nah, he’s an FBI agent.”

FBI agent, maybe that was Cas.

“Sorry we’re late,” A familiar voice came from the doorway, and Dean went on his toes to see who it was. “Jack didn’t want Kelly to leave.”

The office laughed, and Dean felt his heart stutter. Cas.

“Oh, Mr. Winchester!” Kelly said, noticing Dean across the room.

Her and Cas hung up their coats before making their way to Dean.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, my brother. His girlfriend is out of the country so I’m his replacement, what about you two?”

“I’m the secretary here,” Kelly laughed. “And most of Cas’ brothers work here, so I usually invite him as my plus one. That and it’s the least I can do with how much helps me and the boys.” A brief silence fell between them. “I’m gonna go get us drinks.”

With that, she left Dean and Cas alone.

“So, FBI?” Dean asked, taking a sip of his eggnog.

“How did you…”

“Sam. I uh… I might’ve asked about your family.”

“Why?”

“Because I might’ve come here hoping to see you, and I didn’t really think it through.”

“Why would you be hoping to see me?”

Dean looked down at his cup for a second. Before he could speak though, Sam yelled from across the room.

“He thinks you’re cute!”

“Ha!” Kelly laughed from the same direction, “Cas you own me laundry and dinner for a week.”

Both Cas and Dean turned bright red as the office broke out into a fit of laughter. Dean realized it was probably worse for Cas, most of his family was here.

“Hey Cas?” Castiel looked up at him, and Dean could help but admire how cute he looked. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, before leaning in to kiss him.

#researcher s's recovery #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fluff

[tobthoughts]

love is a weird word.

friday, november 3rd, 00:38am

this is gonna be kinda heavy so big trigger warnings !!!

i don’t think i’ve ever understood why people can love me. in a romantic sense. i think as a friend i get it: i am funny, i’ll listen, i can give relatively decent advice, i’m fiercely loyal… yada yada… i see the appeal. but people find me ATTRACTIVE. people want relationships with me. more than just friends.

my issues with the idea of love are probably rooted in my trauma. “you’re nothing, you’re mine, you’re my little secret”. i never really got to be my own person. and then when i was trying to reclaim that sense of identity it was almost worshipped, in a way. i became a little ringleader for the group, and i’m not sure how and i’m not sure why, but somehow i think that damaged me more than the rape. to go from being nothing to being something so much more - to the point where people told me they would harm themselves when i left. they told me they would kill themselves. over me leaving the group to move house? i was a kid. i had no control. i never had control. i’m still not sure if i do. i was sick for so long, i think i’ve done awful things because of it. i don’t think i’ve ever been loved, normally.

my abuser, the man who raped and molested me for years, told me he loved me. and i believed it, because isn’t this normal? isn’t this what family does? i didn’t know any better. my dad, who left me, who chose to ignore the things that happened to me, told me he loved me. and i believed him too, because fathers are supposed to love their children. my first real ex told me he’d commit if i left, and threatened to hurt our friends. i thought i loved him… i think i was just lonely.

my bpd doesn’t help. i think i’ve only ever been in love once. i fell hard and i fell fast and there was nothing i could do. george went from being a stranger to being my whole world in a matter of days, and i held onto that relationship until its very bitter end. i was happy with him, most of the time, and he became my favourite person, so i never wanted to let go. my moods were directly impacted by his - if he was happy i was happy, and if he was upset then my world was ending. i feel everything so, so very extremely. until i started to split on him. then it was that “leave me alone/please don’t go” mentality that ended up hurting me the most. i would push him away and make him leave when really i just needed to be held. i told him to go but i never really wanted to be alone. and then at the end, when the relationship just wasn’t viable anymore and life got in the way, despite how toxic i had been and he had been, i just could not let it go. it was the best thing for us and i know that now, but at the time i begged. i begged him to stay, and i cried so hard i threw up. i’ve never cried that hard in my life. without him, i would be lost again, and in my mind it was the only thing i could do to prevent that from happening. i didn’t want to go back to being nothing, not after i had worked to hard to be me. not after everything. to me, crying and crying and crying and throwing up was the only way i could express that - i loved him so much that it HURT. physically hurt. i felt like i was dying for weeks, fuck, maybe even months after we broke up. a real, genuine pain that ached in the very pits of my heart.

so basically i love very intensely. i’m very black and white. it’s all or nothing. which i think is why i’m struggling so much to maintain any sort of “casual relationship” or “casual sex” in university. i need to have all of you, and you me, or it doesn’t feel real to me. i’ve been trying though. to just chill out a little bit. to love less like a fire. less of an insatiable hunger for someone that consumes everything; all of me and all of them. with less destruction, less fervency. some of it is out of my control. i hate being borderline.

i can’t love, i don’t think, because i was never in control and being in love means that i’m still not.

i feel everything too much. high highs and low lows.

i can’t win.

i am SO lonely.

#blog #diaryposting #personal diary #online diary #tumblr diary #bpd vent #bpd feels #love vent #tw vent

[hellfirehaley]

Strange Love Chapter 16

Songs referenced: Careless Whisper by Wham (shoutout to @sunflowerhargroves @sunflowerharrington for this song rec)

Parts 10-15

November 15, 1985

It was three weeks until the winter formal and you sat in the library during 3rd period looking for French novels to do a book report on. Robin chose Candide by Voltaire, Ali chose Dangerous Liaisons by Choderos de Laclos and you chose The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo. You three sat at a table with your books open as you talked quietly. 

“So I was gonna ask Vickie during band class if she’s going to the dance but I’m so nervous to ask her,” Robin whispers.

“Try bringing it up casually,” you say as you turn the page.

“Define ‘casually’” Robin asks.

“‘Hey Vickie, what are your plans for Winter Formal? It’s coming up soon and I’m debating whether I want to go or not’” you offer.

“At least Ali has it easy and just has to ask her boyfriend to go to a dance with her,” Robin notes.

“Hey!” Ali says, looking up from her novel.

“When are you gonna ask Eddie to the dance?” Robin asked.

“Probably today. I just need to figure out what I’m gonna say,” you reply.

“Oh shit, for real?” Ali says.

“Yeah. I was gonna do it earlier but he’s been wrapped up in setting up his campaign. I think he said he’s preparing for some grand finale before the Winter break starts. But we are supposed to hang out tonight.” Both girls squeal under their breath.

“He’s gonna say yes,” Ali reassures.

“Yeah cause when has he ever said no to you?” Robin asked.

“Okay you hold a good point,” you say with a smile.

“Any luck recovering that letter?” Ali asks.

“No, I’m starting to think it fell out and someone got a hold of it,” you admit.

“That’s the worst case scenario,” Ali says.

“But it could happen,” you say.

“And if it does, then we’ll be ready.” Robin says.

“What if Rob or his friends found it?” you whisper panicked.

“Now THAT is the worst case scenario,” Robin says.

“Then you can drop out of school and piss your life away and I won’t say a damn word dude because your life here would be over,” Ali says as you smack her arm lightly.

“Not funny,” you say.

“But seriously, if that happens then we will kick his ass..again.” Ali says as the bell rings. You smile at her as you pack up your books.

“Still on for hanging out tomorrow?” Ali asks.

“Absolutely.” you say with a smile as you walked out of the library and went separate ways. 

Eddie’s pov

8:55PM

Hellfire was fucking awesome tonight. Everyone actually knew their new stats and didn’t ask any stupid questions. Everyone survived the encounter and actually talked with each other before making any stupid moves. It was an all around win tonight and it felt like I was on a high as I drove to see my favorite person: Y/N. We had plans to hang out tonight and it was one of the only things that kept me going today. We both have been busy lately between my band rehearsals, preparing for D&D, her study schedule and family obligations. But tonight her brother was off at some party and she was probably in bed either reading one of her fantasy novels or buried in her books, trying to focus on her studying. 

I pulled up in her driveway, seeing her mom’s station wagon already parked. I shut off my van and got out, walking up the porch path and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door opened revealing Meg with a smile on her face.

“Hi Eddie,” she greeted.

“Hi Meg. Is Y/N here?” I ask as she opens the door to let me in.

“Yep. She’s been in her room ever since dinner probably studying,” she said with a proud smile.

“Would it be alright if I took her on a break to get some fresh air? I promise to have her back by midnight or you can ground me too,” I say, holding up three fingers like I’m a Boy Scout.

“That seems reasonable Eddie. Just have her home by midnight,” her mom says with a nod as she returns to the couch as the theme for Dallas plays in the background. I headed up the stairs to her room and noticed the door was open and I could hear soft music playing coming from it. I walked into the doorway and stood there for a moment. Y/N was in her bed sitting with her legs crossed, pen in hand with a textbook in front of her and pieces of paper splayed out everywhere in an order that only made sense to her. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing an old athletic sweatshirt with holes in the sleeves and a pair of gray sweatpants. I knock at the doorway lightly as I walk in, grabbing her attention and making her smile when she saw me.

“Hi Eds. How was Hellfire tonight?” she asks excitedly.

“It was great. Everyone was on top of their game tonight and they survived to go on and fight another day,” I say as I take a seat at her desk.

“I’m glad you had a great session,” she says.

“Me too. How’s studying going?” I ask as I look at her nest of stuff on her bed.

“It's uh…it’s going. I did two full worksheets of mathematical equations so far and I have one more left.” she says.

“Wanna get some fresh air and get a break?” I offer.

“I can’t Eds. I have one worksheet left,” she says.

“So? When has homework ever stopped you from doing something?” I counter.

“I want to, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think the warden will let me. Plus Leo has my car,” she says.

“Well I’m driving so don’t worry about it. Also I already asked your mom and she’s cool with it so get ready! We’ve only got til midnight Cinderella” I joke as she starts shuffling her papers into more organized piles. She sticks her tongue out at me as she gets up from her bed and goes to her closet, grabbing a purple hoodie and pulling it over her head. She grabbed a pair of Converse and put them on before standing again. I stand up and lead the way downstairs. We passed the living room and I stopped to pet my buddy Norm while Y/N told her mom we were leaving.

“Back by midnight!” her mom yelled out as we walked out the door. I got in front of Y/N and opened her car door for her before going to my side and getting in, starting up the van. I backed out and started to drive while Y/N started to fidget with the radio. She settled on a pop station as one of the songs ended its last chorus. 

“Thanks for getting me out of the house,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime Y/N” I say back, returning her smile. The DJ announced the next song and Y/N’s eyes lit up, turning up the music as a synthesized introduction started.

“I loooove this song” she exclaimed with a laugh.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Careless Whisper by Wham! I live for power ballads that build and build up to the song” she says as the guitar starts among the soft vocals. She sang the opening verse and I was hooked. Then came that fucking sax solo and she started to dance to it in her seat. My god she was so fucking beautiful. It felt like every single time a song came on, she knew it and maybe it was partly due to her job but I really liked how eclectic her music tastes were. This song specifically made me wanna dance with her in the moonlight and maybe that’s the point.

I eventually pull up to the woods and park, grabbing my cigarette pack from my cupholder and the lighter. We get out of the van and I lead us into the woods with Y/N holding onto my arm to avoid getting lost. Fifteen minutes later we arrived at our destination: Skull Rock. Everyone always uses it as a makeout spot but it’s actually a great smoking spot. No one ever comes out here past Halloween thanks to the cold weather so I knew we would be able to be left in peace. We sit in the clearing under Skull Rock and I pull out my cigarettes, grabbing one of the pre rolled joints I rolled this morning. I hand it over to Y/N along with my lighter. She put the joint in her mouth and lit up, inhaling as she took the joint from her lips and exhaled, the smoke going out towards the forest.

“Did I ever tell you this used to be my hiding spot?” she asked as I looked at her.

“No I don’t think you have.” I say.

“I used to drive her almost everyday when my dad started his affair and I never knew why but I think its because no one ever comes out here and it’s a peaceful place to gather your thoughts,” she mused as she hit the joint again before passing it to me.

“When was that?” I ask, hitting the joint.

“The affair? Started in 83 and it was right under our noses. He would take on extra hours at the office, go in early and stay late. But then he started to miss major events like our games or social events,” she says.

“Your games?” I say, surprised as I hit the joint again.

“My volleyball games. I was pretty damn good but once the affair got out, I had to quit because I couldn’t be That Girl: the one whose dad cheated on her mom. Instead, I became the girl whose boyfriend cheated on her at a Halloween party. Sick irony, I tell you,” she says with a twisted laugh.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I had no idea,” I say.

“It’s okay. It’s in the past,” she says. It truly amazed me how much I knew about Y/N but at the same time,  I still had so much to learn about her. I hadn her back the joint and we smoked in silence for a while until we finished the joint. Y/N was deep in thought about something so I let her be for a while while I looked up at the almost invisible moon tonight. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Y/N wrap herself up in her arms, shivering. Without a word, I took off my jacket and put it over her shoulders, the leather engulfing her like it did the first time. I pull out a cigarette from the pack and put it between my lips before lighting it up. I take a few puffs before Y/N turns to me.

“So what are your plans for formal? I know you’re not too excited to go but what would you do instead?” Y/N asked as she grabbed the cigarette from my hand.

“Probably me with a six pack, my guitar and a few of these bad boys,” I say, holding up the last of our joints with a smile, “Why? You asking me to the dance Princess?” I tease as she hits the cigarette. I see her face turn serious for a moment before she smiles.

“Yes Eddie I am asking you to the dance,” she says and I almost choke on my spit.

“Wait you’re serious?” I ask.

“As a heart attack. Hear me out: it’s senior year. Your last senior year if I have anything to do or say about it. So why not go Eddie? I promise to protect you from any Carrie related incidents,” she says taking a Scout’s honor. “Plus I think we’d be cute together,” she finishes as I take the cigarette from her.

I ponder her proposition and wonder what to do. On the one hand, I didn’t wanna go to the dance because it’s not my scene. I’ve never been to a single high school dance so why start now? I don’t even own a suit. But if I DID say no, Y/N would be crushed; absolutely heartbroken. I couldn’t help but wonder about her crush. Did something happen? Either way she deserved an answer.

I sighed before taking the last hit of the cigarette. “I’m breaking my own rules for you here Princess. I don’t do school dances but because it’s you asking so nicely, my answer is yes. Just try not to fall in love with me,” I say with a laugh.

“You’ve got my word Eds” she says with a sweet smile.

Taglist: @realeddiemunsonstandup @eddies-blunt @sharkbaitouhaha @spookyscoopstroop @bobbiewritesstuff @eveieforeve02 @apublicnotebook @madaboutmunson2 @grungegrrrl @stardustworlds @imagine-all-the-imagines @brittanyyydamnit @emotionaldreamer

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson slow burn #strange love an eddie fic

[shinsengumi-archives]

I posted 306 times in 2022

186 posts created (61%)

120 posts reblogged (39%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@talesofedo

@hakuouki-history

@tanuki-kimono

@shinsengumidreams

@pmk-love

I tagged 304 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#translated - 87 posts

#hijikata - 75 posts

#translated from japanese - 69 posts

#quote - 63 posts

#hijikata quote - 58 posts

#poem - 46 posts

#series - 44 posts

#fushigidono - 41 posts

#shinsengumi - 35 posts

#recommended - 28 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

When did the shinsengumi start wearing western uniforms?

That would be on Pants Day 😂

On March 22, 1868, the Shinsengumi spent 13 ryō 2 bu on pants from Nakamuraya Sahei. A few days before, on March 17, they spent 6 ryo 2 bu on jackets.

nachtic:

Purchased jackets on March 17, 1868 (6 ryo 2 bu) Purchased pants on March 22, 1868 (13 ryo 2 bu) According to one theory, the price of 1 ryo at the end of the Edo period, converted from the price of rice, was said to be around 3000-4000 yen, so the jackets would be about 20000 yen and pants about 40000 yen. For comparison, the price of a school uniform now is around 30000 yen.

The only artifact I could find is Nagakura's waistcoat:

See the full post

42 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

#4

Living descendants of the Shinsengumi

From left to right: Hijikata Megumi (土方愛), Miyagawa Kiyoshi (宮川清志), Miyagawa Seizo (宮川清蔵), Matsudaira Yasuhisa (松平保久), Ano Noriko (阿野典子), Inoue Masao (井上雅雄) (Photo: Kawai Hidenao)

Descendants of Kondo Isami’s family

See the full post

45 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

#3

What did the Shinsengumi eat every day?

Such a trivial matter is unexpectedly difficult to figure out.

It's probably because there wasn't anyone in or around the squad trying to keep a record of their mundane everyday life aside from the big events. When I introduced "The food diary of a low-ranking samurai who was assigned to work alone at the end of the Edo period" last time, I looked it up again, but I couldn't find any information that seemed certain. 

That said, it’s not that there are no clues. Here are some of the things I noticed. 

Misozuke (miso pickles)

There is a letter from Souji Okita to Miyagawa Otogoro (the brother of Kondo Isami) dated November 12, Keio 3. The passage, "Above all, thank you very much for sending me this delicious misozuke." was an acknowledgment for receiving misozuke. 

This misozuke seems to have been made by Otogoro and brought to Kyoto by Hijikata Toshizo and Inoue Genzaburo, who went on a business trip to Edo. It must have been a favorite of Okita (or everyone including Kondo et al.), because they bothered to bring it all the way back from Edo. 

Unfortunately, there is no mention of what was pickled. Vegetables, fish, or something else... just imagine. 

(* Reference “Complete Letters of Hijikata Toshizo and Okita Souji”) 

Duck

See the full post

56 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#2

The Ruins of Kondo Isami's Dojo

The Shieikan Dojo is the site of Kondo Isami's Tennen Rishin-ryu dojo in Shinjuku Ward.

Currently, only the pillar and the nearby Inari Shrine remain. In this article, we will take a look at the ruins of the Shieikan.

Directions

Address: 25 Ichigaya’yanagi-cho, Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo

How to get there: 3 minute walk from Ushigome Yanagimachi Station on the Oedo Line

See the full post

61 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Gold and Silver Expenditure and Receipt Book (金銀出入帳)

The "Gold and Silver Expenditure and Receipt Book" is a record of the Shinsengumi’s receipts and disbursements, covering the period from the 14th day of the 11th month, Keio 3 (1867) to the 1st day of the 3rd month, Keio 4 (1868). It is approximately ten pages in length and is written in a unique ink script. This record is thought to have been written down by Shinsengumi accountants, and is one of the most valuable official documents of the Shinsengumi for understanding their exact activities and financial situation.

A portion of this document was once published in "Shinsengumi Shimatsuki" (written by Shimozawa Kan in 1928). Until around 1937, it was in the possession of Kondo Isami’s relative, Miyagawa Takashi, who lived in Kamiishihara, Chofu, Tokyo. It’s now kept at Ryugenji Temple (6-chome, Osawa, Mitaka, Tokyo), the site of Kondo Isami’s tomb, along with many other related documents once owned by the Miyagawa family.

The first part of this document is marked with "Start". It then describes the movement of money within the accounting division, and the four people whose names appear in the document, Yasutomi Saisuke, Kishijima Yoshitaro, Otani Isao, and Nakamura Gendo are of course Shinsengumi accountants.

The accountants were usually in charge of bookkeeping, but in times of war, such as the Battle of Toba-Fushimi, they were also assigned to the the logistics division (konida). Yasutomi and Kishijima worked as investigators (諸士調役) (also called "metsuke"), while Otani and Nakamura were treated as the same level as corporals. Some records refer to Otani as an accountant and Nakamura as an equivalent of an accountant.

(source: 新選組史料集)

Out of all the historical texts in 新選組史料集, the Shinsengumi’s account book seemed the most interesting to me, and I kept seeing quotes from it in the articles I’ve read.

It took a while to make sense of the archaic terms and Edo period accounting notation, but I think I’ve mostly figured it out. Here’s my translation: [link], and below are my translation notes and the full original text.

[Read the full translation here]

Translation Notes

一金...也 = formal notation used to clarify and confirm that the money will indeed be paid. Ignore this when translating. (source)

也 = classical modal particle used at the end of sentences to express an explanation or judgement. Ignore this when translating. (source)

右 = classical term of respect. Ignore this when translating. (source)

ニて (にて) = indicates the location where something took place. Ignore this when translating.

江 = river? (not sure why it’s added to some of the entries, but makes more sense to ignore this when translating)

同 = same 一同...也 = 一金...也 同人 = same person as the previous entry

両 = ryo (see: how much was 1 ryo worth?)

分 = bu (1/4 of a ryo)

朱 = shu (1/16 of a ryo)

代 = fee

渡 = transferred

相渡 = handover, transferring from one party to another

手宛 = salary

地役 = easement (the right to use someone else's land for a specific purpose) (source)

入用 = necessary uses

御用 = official duties

帰ル = returned

拾 = ten

廿 = twenty

卯 = year of the rabbit (1867 in this case)

See the full post

74 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review

[murumokirby360]

My Rechargeable Light Tube review (w/ my paper dolls) - Full [Nov 15th, 2022]

Hi! Here's my item review this November (2022), and for the first time, I decided to make a full review in one sitting post.🪑🙂

So, this is my full review of the Rechargeable Light Tube (featuring my Paper Dolls).💡⚡🙂

BTW: If you haven't watch my revealing parcel for this particular item, then please [CLICK ME!].

So, without further ado, let's get started:

1st & 2nd Image(s): ↑

• Here's the box itself. Now, I've already tackled some unnamed brands before, so I'm assuming that this is "Made in China". 🇨🇳 But hey, we can't live without an item that is made from it, right? My paper doll says "probably". 🙂

3rd to 5th Image(s): ↑

• Out of the box, here's the main item along with other accessories, such as two adhesive magnetic patches that I can stick to a nonmetal wall, and a short (generic) micro USB cable. Here's a closer look at the 5th Image.

6th to 10th Image(s): ↑

• Now, let's take close look at the main item.

• [6th & 10th Images] Here, there are two mini magnetic pieces on each side, which I can stick to any metal walls or beams, or even the aforementioned adhesive metal round stickers onto the wall or ceiling (depending on my choice).

• [7th & 8th Images] On the other side, there's a micro USB port where I can charge my tube via either a power bank (in case the electricity was blackout) or a USB wall charger. Plus, there's a hidden lock where I can hook at any place.

• [9th Image] And lastly, the power button. Where I can turn on the light, as well as 5 different modes 🖐 by pressing it 🔘. Which, I'll show you that in a bit.

11th to 13th Image(s): ↑

• Comparison time! Here, I have my old functional Xiaomi LED Light Enhanced Edition & their heights differ from front to back. When it comes to the side, my Xiaomi LED light E.E. is very slim and bendable. In fact, my paper dolls say that they prefer my old Xiaomi LED light for true portability, although it requires a power bank. Whereas my tube light, it has a built-in battery of 2600 mAh (40W) capable of usage for up to 8 hours. Hmmm... That sounds promising, but is it true? I'll keep an updated, soon.

Recorded video 🎦📲 (edited using Wondershare Filmora): ↑ (Pls watch my video)

⚠️FAIR WARNING⚠️: Strobing lights may cause seizures!

• Alright, it's testing time! In my first part, I try to turn it but it won't work. So now, I'll charge it with my included short cable, my trusty genuine Romoss power bank 🔋⚡, and also my USB multitester to see the stats. Once that, my tube light started to charge, and as you can see from the stats from my multitester it has a low milliamp albeit upside down (0.064A). While it's charging, I'm testing the power button & here you can see I toggle the switch in 5 different modes albeit a low light. Hang on, let me turn off the living room light.

• Alright, on my second part, where the light turns off & here you finally see what I'm talking about. The first three modes are the light adjustments, from high, to medium, and then low. Whereas other two are strobing lights (once again, pls be warned ⚠️), and SOS morse code light, both of which are for emergency purposes 🚨. Here, you could see I'm doing another comparison with my Xiaomi LED Light E.E. & it seems my old Xiaomi Light has brighter than my tube light's low energy. Yeah, that doesn't seem right. Maybe I'll be charged with my wall charger this time. It won't take a while, so give me a minute.

• Alright, so now my light tube has half charged, and here's what it looks like in the dark. More brighter than before. Here, once again I'm doing a comparison for the third time, and it seems that my tube light had taken over (or something), well you know what I'm mean. Uh yeah, I forgot to mention that I can stick my tube light onto that metal bar beside my gaming keyboard thanks to their built-in magnetic pieces.

• As for the weight of the tube light (and built quality), it's quite light on the other side & on the other has little heft to it. And that's because there's a single battery inside. To be honest, this is quite okay. I wish the battery inside should go in the center to make it balance, but that's my preference. And if you're curious to see what it looks like, then there's a Youtube video about it → [CLICK ME!].

BTW: Uh yeah, I almost forgot. While the design itself doesn't match nor advertise as their pictures, at least their features are very identical.

14th & 15th Image(s): ↑

• Finally, here's what it looks like when my tube light can hook up at any place while the light turns on. 🪝💡

Overall & Price:

• This is a solid simple tube light for emergency purposes 🚨 or going out for a night camping 🏕️. You may require a power bank, in case you need to charge though, otherwise, it has a 2600mAh (40W) built-in battery 🔋💡 which should be lasted. So take my word for it if you're friends/families want it to go a long way journey 🛣️🚐.

• As for the asking price, I bought it from Lazada PH 🛒🌐🇵🇭 for ₱106 (roughly $1.85) 🏷️ without a shipping fee, and that's the 40 Watt variant. Because there are three different sizes of tube light with their respective watts, the small one has 20 Watts, the medium one was 40 Watts that I have, and lastly the long one has 60 watts. You can choose either 3 or 5 modes depending on their price range, so I ended up with the 40 Watts with 5 modes for only ₱106, which is very cheap & a decent quality look. And this seller right here offers a Buy 1 Take 1 for double the cost → [CLICK ME!]. So, is it worth it? Well, they're not for everyone, but in case you want them for your own personal, then I have no problem buying that tube light. 😊

Well, that's the end of my topic!

And you haven’t seen my previous topic, then I’ll provide some links down below. ↓😉

My QKZ AK6 Pro IEM Earphones:

• Revealing parcel [Oct 1st, 2022]

• Part 1 (1st half) [Oct 8th, 2022]

• Part 2 (2nd half) [Oct 8th, 2022]

• Part 3 (Final) [Oct 26th, 2022]

Tagged: @lordromulus90, @bryan360, @carmenramcat, @leapant, @alexander1301, @rafacaz4lisam2k4

#My Record Video #MyVideo #My Video #Video #MyPhotos #MyPhoto #My Photos #My Photo #Photos #Photo #MyEdited #MyEdit #My Edited #My Edit #Edit #Edited #Chowder #Panini #Chowder Panini #Paper Dolls #Tube Light #Portable Tube Light #Rechargeable Light Tube #Photography

[mrsbakashi]

all :) if you want lol but if not then just the even ones

you know damn well i'd answer all of them twice for you 😭

thank you for asking and watch out for the long ass answers (so i put a cut).

1. book you've reread the most times?

probably pride and prejudice. it's a cliche, but it's my favorite book and i usually go for it when i don't know what to read next or when i'm in some sort of "book hangover" (is that a thing in english? idk). or maybe the little prince. yes, i'm a walking cliche.

2. top 5 books of all time?

oh god, so hard. i'm going for book that hold a special place in my heart for many reasons:

1st: pride and prejudice

2nd: the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas (it's from a brazilian author and it's honestly so amazing i can't even put into words)

3rd: the chronicles of narnia or harry potter (yes, i'm listing the whole series as one book)

4th: soul love - at night the sky is more beautiful

5th: the little prince

3. what is your favourite genre?

does fiction count as a genre? does novel? or maybe romance? to simplify: if there's romance in it, i'm reading it.

4. what sections of a bookstore do you browse?

first the best-sellers/popular because it's usually the first section, you end up there almost before you even enter the book store. then i like to go to a section on my favorite bookstore that is for recommendations of both customers and the people who work there (they can even let post its saying why they recommend it). then i go to national and international literature. sometimes i go to spiritual section because i love studying it. depending on how i feel i can also go to the languages section and see if there's anything helpful. and usually, before leaving, i take a quick look in the medicine section because old habits die hard, and then i feel super sad i won't be a doctor anymore and go straight to McDonald's. ✌��😗

5. where do you buy books?

this question is so sad... so books are really expensive in my country, and people don't really have the habit of reading here, the numbers are insanely low and our government doesn't care/doesn't do anything about it, so teacher and schools are left to do the impossible task to make people understand it can actually be fun - anyway, things are really bad, yes. so a lot of bookstores had to close after declaring bankruptcy, and the few that are still working are always empty. and that alone wouldn't be as much of a problem, but now the prices are so ridiculously high - i can't remember the last time i bought a book in a physical bookstore. they cost like double the usual price there. the last time i went to my favorite (ex-favorite?) one i got so mad i left withing 3 minutes. i literally felt like crying, because it's the most famous bookstore we have, and it's kinda historical, and i had so many great moments there. anyway. now i buy them online. i try to find small sellers on instagram/etc with a good price so i don't have to give my money to bezos, but sometimes i do, because sometimes i can't find a specific book anywhere else 😔.

6. what books have you read in the last month?

NONE! 😃

no, seriously, since november last year i've been reading exclusively fanfiction (and lately not even fanfics 😩). i did start a couple of books, but couldn't go through because my anxiety is quite bad and i can't engage with anything with more than 1 chapter or more than 1K words. or watch. can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

but last september, which was the last month i actually read something, i read 3 books i think.

7. is there a series/book that got you into reading?

i'm pretty sure there was, but i can't really remember, because i was too young. i think i was 4 when i insisted my sister taught me how to read so i could read books, and she did which is amazing if you think a 7 year old taught a 4 year old 🤣 she would come home with what she learned at school and taught me. i remember i already knew how to read when i entered school and the teachers were usually amazed and kept me in charge when they had to leave for a few minutes - yes, i was that kid who is responsible for writing down the names of everyone who is not quietly sitting.

but anyway. there's a really famous comic series around here that's called "monica's gang" in english, i believe, and i remember reading it a loooot.

but to answer the question: i've been into reading for as long as i can remember.

8. what is the first book you remember reading yourself?

the first one i actually remember reading is the little prince. i know i had read other children's books before, with little silly cute stories, but my first "big girl" book was the little prince. i was 6-7 and my sister got it at the school's library for me and i loved it so much - to this day it's still one of my faves.

9. when do you tend to read most?

at night, in bed, sipping tea, before falling asleep. that's the only time i feel okay with doing something not related to work or stuff.

10. do you have a guilty fav?

absolutely! twilight for example lololol. and like "Led Astray" by Sandra Brown, and also the Hush Hush series and "Perdida" from a brazilian writer.

11. what non-fiction books do you like if any?

most of them are from brazilian writers so i won't name them, but i really like reading historical books, biographies of people i admire, spiritual studies and stuff. i like studying some stuff too, so books with theories/textbooks. does poetry count as non-fiction? 🤔

12. did you enjoy any compulsory high school readings?

yes! the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas for example i was forced to read to vestibular - a big exam colleges and universities have to test if you are good enough. there were other books some of my teachers recommended or made us read that i really liked at the time, most of them are brazilian.

13. do you have a goodreads?

i don't, but i have another social media to keep track of my reading. it's called skoob (which is books spelled backwards) but i don't know if it's available worldwide.

14. do you ever mark/dog ear books you own?

yes, but i'm not really a fan of it. i like to write/highlight my books, but i worked in a company very far from my house so i used to read a lot on the subway/bus and i couldn't highlight/write in a bus/train full of people (like so full you could barely breathe) so i folded the pages i wanted to highlight later - but then i never did, because o was busy finishing the book, so now i just have a lot of books with dog ears.

15. recommend and review a book.

oh, i suck at it, which is ironic because i used to have a bookstagram. but i will do a very light one:

i will recommend the posthumous memoirs of brás cubas, one of my favorite books. it was written by an amazing author with an amazing story back in 1881. so it's a book narrated in first person by the main character, brás cubas, who is now dead and reminiscing on his life and the people he met. and he is sooooo ironic, funny and full of himself. like there's a part during his funeral when it starts raining and he just goes "even the sky is crying the death of the great brás cubas". and while you go with him in this trip through his life you find a lot of critics, specially directed towards the society, but also a lot of reflections about life. it's just amazing. funny and deep. i love it.

16. how many books have you read this year?

none! 🤣

i mentioned before the last book i read was like in september, since then i started books but kinda abandoned on page 30 or so. i was reading a lot of fanfic but now even that is fading, so i'm basically reading nothing...

17. top 5 children's books?

i think "children's books" is too much of a wild concept, like do you mean harry potter or do you mean the gingerbread man?

anyway, my top would be:

the little prince

the chronicles of narnia

harry potter

peter pan

diary of a wimpy kid

18. do you like historical books? which time period?

i do! basically any time. i love learning about the past, how people lived, how they did some things, their customs... it's really nice. also i don't know if historical books refer to like pride and prejudice or to actual history books, but the answer is yes for both ✌️😗

19. most disliked popular books?

oh, uh... i think the after series. i read the first book entirely with the strength of how much i hated it, and i just didn't drop it because i don't like dropping things (taking an indefinite pause yes) but i hated it so much.

20. what are things you look for in a book?

first i ask myself if the story has the potential to make me cry - if yes then I'll read it LOL. i look for stories that will give me many many feelings, like really mess with them, or stories that seem fun or sweet or interesting. i'm also a sucker for narratives (idk if that's the right word in english, but like the way the story is told) so when i'm in a bookstore before buying a book that seems interesting i usually read the first chapter/pages to see if i like it. i ended up giving up on some books because the narrative was bad or annoying. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#about me #ask game #morggie answers

[subtletruamadumping]

Bright

______________________________________________________________

I entered an online writing battle for fun. With only 4 days to write a 2000-word story with a randomized genre, key element, and specific plot point, this is what I came up with. It's not necessarily my favorite thing I have written. I feel like there is a lot missing, but I was pretty nervous about going over the word limit. I have a few days left to work on it and about 400 words to work with, but I'm on vacation right now and my brain is dead lol.

Written November 3rd, 2023

______________________________________________________________

Elliot’s hair stood on end as the lights above began to buzz with uneven surges of electricity. That was a good sign. The fact that Harper still hadn't shown up was a bad sign. She would be here. Elliot knew she would. She did her best to squash that twinge in the bottom of her stomach that brought back all her past failed attempts. All the times she had put her trust in the wrong person.

Harper was different.

Elliot knew it.

She took a breath and rubbed her eyes to calm herself. The cool breeze, the only breath of air in the entire enclosed city, gently rustled her clothes. This space between, the official barrier between the upper and lower levels, was the highest up into the city Elliot had ever been. It was also the lowest Harper had ever been. It was where they had always met. This was the highest point Elliot had ever been in the city while it was the lowest point for Harper. This uncanny edge of both of their worlds bore all the stories they swapped, the problems and troubles they slowly revealed to the other, and the plans for how to show the city for what it truly was.

If everything worked out as they had intended, the two of them could pull off a feat that could have far-reaching effects on the entire city. It was a risky plan, but one that they felt confident could send a strong message. They wanted to turn off the lights of the city. Not all of them. An electrical error could be the cause of that. They had planned out specific rooms and levels that would remain lit, showing off the lower levels where people were living in poverty and squalor. The upper floors would be forced to pay attention and acknowledge what life was like for many of their compatriots.

Well, that was the plan.

The light flickered again, even going out for a brief second before coming back on. That must be why Harper was late. She needed to take care of her end of things on the upper levels and seemed to still be working on it. She should be here any minute. Harper wouldn't let her down. She never had, before.

As Elliot waited, her eyes shifted from one end of the empty space to the other. She was uneasy, unsure if they were being watched or followed. Even the thought of getting spotted by the security on the upper levels had marching around made her squirm. It was a good plan to tamper with the lower-level lights, first. After 9 every night, they were forced into a blackout, and no one would notice if certain wires had been cut or crossed. Not until the big reveal.

Elliot started as the door leading towards the upper levels gave a soft beep and was cracked open. Harper peeked out and took a quick look around before smiling when she saw Elliot. There was a smear of blood coming from her nose and a cut on her lip instead of her usually pristine face. Elliot blinked and hurried over in concern.

"What happened?" She threw her arms around Harper's neck after she came completely out into the hallway. "Are you okay? What did your parents--"

"I'm alright. Careful, the door." Harper reeled from the awkward weight and Elliot looked down to see her foot propping the door open. "We have to hurry. Dad found me messing around with the lights upstairs."

"Was your dad the one--"

"Hurry, we have to finish it. He's probably headed to the Governor's quarters right now with a million security guards." Harper wriggled her way out of Elliot's grasp and kicked the door open wider "Let's go."

"Will your mom--"

"It doesn't matter."

"But, your brothers--"

"That's over, Elliot." Harper put a hand on her shoulder and furrowed her brow in seriousness. "I can't go back to them, no matter how this turns out. Even if I hadn't been caught by Dad, there was no hope for me going back to that. This is my life now. Helping people who need it instead of turning a blind eye and pretending everything is okay. Maybe one day, they will understand that. Maybe this will help them understand. I chose to leave them behind to make a difference. Which we need to do. Now."

The long, white, sterile hallway that spread out in front of her made Elliot pause. The smell that bled from the more wealthy area washed over her, making her feel incredibly out of place. It was like nothing she had ever smelled down in the lower levels. The time she had first smelled it on Harper had been a surreal experience. Elliot clung to that little bit of familiarity to brace herself. Harper wasn't like the people she had met from the upper levels, which gave Elliot hope that their plan would do something.

It wouldn't fix everything, but it was a step in the right direction.

She walked past Harper holding the door open for her, taking her first-ever step into the upper levels. She didn't get to savor it at all. As soon as she was inside, Harper closed the door, grabbed her by the hand, and started hurrying down the hall.

The twinge in Elliot's stomach was building to full somersaults. The lights overhead were flickering more aggressively, occasionally plunging the girls into complete darkness for a few seconds at a time, their footsteps echoing eerily around them. When Harper finally came to a stop in front of a large, metallic door Elliot's heart leaped into her throat. She was staring at an electrical closet, the one that would mark their success or failure in this endeavor. She was surprised that it looked the same as the ones in the lower levels. Harper gave Elliot a nod and motioned for her to open it with her ID card. As the door clicked open, they both drew a deep breath.

This was it.

Elliot felt her blood roaring in her ears as they both stepped inside, closing themselves inside. Harper was the first to jump into action, but Elliot soon came out of her trance to help. The idea of Harper's dad having discovered they were up to something had replaced her usual apprehensiveness with a flurry of action. She would be in a world of trouble for these things, just like Harper was. They knew it was dangerous. They had known there was a good chance their lives would never be the same.

That could go both ways, though.

Things could change forever for the good. That was the point. Elliott could feel her pulse pounding as she worked, knowing this could be her last chance at justice for herself and everyone like her who had grown up on the lower levels with no chance at making their lives better. She and Harper occasionally bumped elbows in the tight space, but it didn't last too long. They had both done the brunt of the work separately. They were working in such a flurry of motion; that they were done before they realized.

"That's it?" Harper asked, still looking around and moving wires to make sure nothing was forgotten.

"I think that's it." Elliot said breathlessly, "I mean, we won't know until we see it, but--"

"Then, let's see it." Again, Harper took her by the hand. Now dragging her out of the electrical closet, it was clear where they were headed next. The ultimate darkness was only cut back by a beam of light cutting in from a window at the end of the hall that Elliot hadn't seen before. They ran towards the light, almost throwing themselves against the window as soon as they came to it.

Harper gasped out loud.

It was horrible.

It was beautiful.

The pitch black gave off a mournful and cold feeling. It felt like smoke closing in around everything, only beat back by the flood of light emanating from strategically picked windows. The big, wide widows of the worst of the workshops. The ones that had to be opened up when the machines started smoking so much that the workers couldn't breathe. Instead of an inviting scene to fight against the darkness, it simply punctuated the feeling of horror.

The dirty, dingy rooms clearly showing the squalor of the lower levels spent their days in were on full display. The rats and bugs that weren't afraid of anything scampered around. Elliot's own sleeping quarters were illuminated, her family willingly giving up their dignity to show the disgusting condition that was usual for the lower levels. Elliot was looking down at what they had done. Her poor mom looked up towards the upper part of the city.

She felt Harper squeeze her hand and looked over at her. She was still looking down, but her eyes almost seemed glazed over, unable to believe what she was seeing. Elliot had described it to her, but this was the first time she was seeing it with her own eyes. It was the first time most people in the upper levels would see it. A direct attack on the propaganda they had been fed their whole life.

Elliot had always thought they would never change. That nothing in the city could ever change. That it would be an endless cycle of suffering and shouting into the void, with no one to hear them. Harper had listened. Not only that, Harper had done something. Her family disagreed with her views and inflicted their own suffering on her because of them. It gave Elliot hope, however, seeing that there was a chance to get through to people who wanted and could do something to help. With Harper and people like Harper, by their side, the future could truly be…

Bright.

#my writing #writers on tumblr #writing #random bits #writing battle

[alyjojo]

Twin Flame 🔥 Journey - November 2023 - Leo

Your Energy:

8 Cups - 2 Swords - Page of Wands & The Empress

Main Energy: 6 Cups

You show up as the chaser, meaning they’re the ones that left in the past. But they never left your mind, you still feel romance for them, they are your deepest wish. It’s possible this love happened when you were very young, 6 Cups & 3rd House can both indicate childhood, or a person in your neighborhood, boy/girl next door, back when you spent a lot more time together probably. Since then, especially being described with Sagittarius & 8 Cups, this person may live quite a distance away now. You or both of you once had big plans for each other and your futures, but they didn’t work out. You probably haven’t spoken since they left, and they could be married or deeply committed to a karmic/soulmate at this point of their life, that’s what shows up for their energy now. Either you’re clueless to what they’re even doing now, or you’re aware but you don’t want to message them out of the blue, like “hello, I am your past, here to cause chaos and problems in your current life”. You could wonder what this person sees in their current partner, when you’re right there HELLO. However long it’s been, you’ve never left “chaser” status, so this person has never been spiritually triggered to seek you out, and they haven’t yet had their awakening to any of this, they’re just living their life while you’re over here tortured with them constantly on your mind.

8 Cups is clarified by 8 Cups, and Knight of Wands. You can have fun with Knight of Wands, he’s passionate, fiery, impulsive and fun. But he doesn’t stick around, there’s too much else out there, places to go, people to date, things to see, etc. Sag energy. Justice shows they did what they felt was right, and they still are, wherever their path has led them is a karmic one and it’s meant for them. It may have hurt though. Your hands are pretty tied with this person, they could have a family now, or just be very happy - 10 Cups. You’d like to work together with them and have them in your life, but also know that’s not likely, so you sit in 4 Cups energy - disappointed, not caring about anything else, it’s this option or no option, and you’re not paying attention to what else is out there. That’s what you have to do though, to change this dynamic, or you’ll willingly sit in this state forever and it won’t change. Don’t do that. We don’t wait on Twins 👏 Waiting to die, that’s what that is, you’re better than that.

It’s possible you’ve tried before, sending them a message and getting them to talk to you. Their person may not like you, they sense you’re trouble, if so that’s also meant to be. Or your person could’ve ghosted & left you on read, 4 Cups & 4 Swords show apathy, silence, they don’t care, they make no effort. They don’t want to argue, compete, or otherwise have any drama in their life. The Devil at the bottom could show temptation they just push aside with a “nope”, they don’t see interacting positively and that’s why they make no effort. This could also just show you, obsessing over them constantly, conflicted inside because there’s no communication and they don’t care, they chose someone else and you’re irritated by how your relationship has changed, but there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are the one that has to stop caring. Has to 👏 Even thinking about them all of the time, missing them, obsessing, that is chaser energy you’re sending out. You keep chasing, they keep running. You decide to stop caring at all, forcibly stop thinking of them, or watching them, and start living your life for you - because you deserve to - this whole dynamic changes. This 9 Cups here, your wish fulfillment, your dreams, those need to be focused on you alone. Not some other person. What do you love and want for yourself as a single individual? Could be traveling with Sag energy. Could be moving, or exploring in any way. Your dreams are what needs chasing, not some guy/girl who isn’t even spiritually aware of you or this, not yet. Not ever, if you don’t start living for you ✋ Twins are glorified as idealistic “togetherness” when really they’re forced independence…a triggered awakening.

Their Energy:

Knight of Pentacles - 2 Cups - 7 Cups

Main Energy: Queen of Swords rev

If there has been messages between you at some point recently, they could be pretty bitter and pissed off even, that an attempt was even made. To be the runner shows someone that is likely *completely* removed from spiritual anything. It’s black & white, the past is the past, why tf are you messaging me? Why are you trying to reconnect? I have a life now. They may say things that cut you deeply, if they say anything at all. The burden for them seems to be how much time has already passed, like they have a whole life now and this could’ve been done years ago, but no you’re not gonna message me now. The whole thing is just a burden on their shoulders. Time is their biggest issue, they’ve put a lot of work and effort into their life, their relationship if there is one, and they may have done that all on their own. Ace of Cups rev at the bottom, either they’re upset they missed an opportunity with you in the past, or they don’t feel how you feel, it’s unrequited.

2 Cups clarified has Ace of Cups rev again at the bottom. They have The Hierophant here, they’re probably married, or well on their way to that. Again we have unrequited love, that’s because they’re in love with their person, who is a karmic for them, and there may be years, struggles, children, you name it invested into this. When it comes to the Twin Flame Journey and anything spiritual, this person is lost in confusion. They don’t know you’re their Twin, they’re oblivious to what you go through every day. All the reason to give up & say fk em. What you have done though, is start making them question themselves. They never did before, now here you come, and where they once thought they had all of the answers, now they’re contemplating….was I wrong? If they didn’t say a word, it’s because they don’t know what to say. Either way you’ve triggered them into waking up to the connection, now you have to completely cut it and them off. Everything they’ve built, they did it without you on their mind at all. It’s your turn 💙

It seems like being the runner is easier, at first, but it’s really not. Sure they get what they want first, but their regret comes later, almost harder, because of the time they spent asleep to you, what they’ve done or not done, it’s rough. Most can’t come back from it. The more you pull away, and the happier you become solo, the more they’ll feel it.

Mutual Energy/What is Mirrored:

The Magician - 4 Swords - Knight of Cups

Main Energy: The Moon

Both of you are in your feelings, and both of you are unconscious to how this works. You’re aware there won’t be a new start between you because either the love is unrequited altogether, they don’t feel the same way, or it’s an opportunity that’s been long missed, they seem to feel that way. Coulda woulda shoulda, but didn’t, and now can’t. You’re both aware outside people get hurt if you try, so you don’t, and won’t. Or they won’t.

You’re both healing from the hurt of each other, not speaking, and you’re both extremely guarded against bringing down Towers in each other’s lives, you don’t want to cause chaos and destruction…it’s about love, and should be focused on that. Love is being supportive. If it can’t be, then it can’t be. You seem to be the one with more love for this person, and it’s not that they don’t feel it (maybe they don’t, you’d know), it’s more like you’re what “was”. Again, they’re pretty black and white about how they see things, spiritual connections do not register, and Twins don’t make logical sense so it wouldn’t be a thought in their mind that this runs deeper than they know. It just confuses them. Will this be going anywhere, no. Maybe never, you need to bank on never, so you can find your own karmic, build your own dreams, forge your own path. Fk this person 💯 Once you move away from it, things start falling into place for you, you may hear from them. But by that time whether you do or don’t, it won’t matter anymore, you’ll be the runner and they’ll face a major awakening - or to someone like that, regret, nostalgia, pondering. Many many Twins (probably most) sit in one energy or the other, waiting, and it never occurs to them. Especially the spiritually unaware. Most Twins marry karmics, not each other. It’s rare to have both people awaken - in circumstances where reconnecting is possible, and actually reunite. Oftentimes whatever pain caused separation in the first place is stronger than any sense of “this is my person”, like it’s respecting yourself to say no. Assume they won’t and you’re safe either way, it’s like you’re passing the ball of emotional torture & awakening to them now, enjoy that, you’ve done all you can do where *this* is concerned.

Karmic Cards:

VENUS - SAGITTARIUS - 3RD HOUSE

- Cherish your highest ideals by making the right connections.

- Enjoy the rules of the idea in question.

- Charm, art, and beauty are the way to get it out to the world, and get your ideas going.

Messages:

You:

- New Perspective

- You hurt me first.

- Darker skin tone

Them:

- Too Little, Too Late

- I can’t feel what you feel.

- I hate the way things ended between us.

Love Oracle:

You: THE CHASER 🐆

- Fear of Abandonment

- Chasing

- Codependencies

Them: KARMIC RELATIONSHIP 🪢

- Resentments & Triggers

- Perception

- Intensity & Letting Go

- Turmoil & Fleeting

Possible Signs:

Every sign is here. Sagittarius, Libra & Pisces the most.

#Leo #twin flame #twin flame reading #November 2023 #tarot reading #tarotblr

[genevalentino]

#WMXI

[pick-em-pool]

WEEK 8

HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME BACK 👏👏👏 We are now HALFWAY through the FOURTH season of the NFL pick-em pool challenge! big money is on the line and some BIG moves have been made 🤑🤑🤑 let's see how everyone stacks up heading into the back half 🔙🔙🔙

VAL - 13 POINTS

It's a dark, dismal day. So overcast you can't tell the time, rain drizzling into streets lined by dilapidated row houses. Is this a scene from James Cameron's "The Terminator"? Nope, it's just a normal Tuesday in Pittsburgh 🤷‍♀️ BUT THIS TIME THERE IS A RAY OF SUNSHINE ☀☀☀ AND HER NAME IS VALERIE DAIGNEAULT ESQUIRE shining like a fiery, 13 point beacon 🚨 Can she bring this momentum in the second have of the year and take the crown this time?!?! 👑👑👑

ABBY - 12 POINTS

Another fantastic showing by Abby means she is currently IN THE MONEY 💲💲💲 at 3rd place. She's famous for doing flips, dressing in animal print and calling it a costume for Halloween, and SCORING POINTS. I don't know how she does it, considering her entire household consists of a girl who has never watched an NFL game in her entire life and a dog with about 4 brain cells. Incredible! 🧠

JANIE - 12 POINTS

THANKFULLY Janie has finally strung together a few good weeks 💹 keeping her in the hunt for the money 💰 I was worried if the losing streak continued she'd start racking up larger and larger wine bills at Postinos 🍷🍷🍷 Invite me next time!

PEYTON - 11 POINTS

SOLID week for our new rental management guru 🏘🏠 He knows houses and he knows football 🏈

You call them vaulted ceilings, he calls them ceilings

You call it a bar, he calls it a minibar

You call it a crawl space, he calls it a 'hell no I ain't gonna fit in there'

You call it football, he calls it FREE MONEY 💰💰💰

JJ - 11 POINTS

JJ "Bobby Knight" Daigneault is on a roll! Now that he's got his looper machine he really has left behind the Boyz in the Back and gone solo 🎤🎤🎤 Are you ready for his first hit? "The willingness to sing is only superseded by the willingness to prepare to sing" 🎶🎶 Inspo board material right there 😢

LISA - 10 POINTS

She's holding on to her lead by a THREAD here 📏 will she be able to sustain the lead into the back half of the season??? 🤔 We doubt she's concerned about that right now, she's preparing for the weekend, November is Lisa's superbowl 😤 Daylight savings time is the ultimate championship for a professional sleeper like her - will she get 14 hours? 15 hours?! TIME WILL TELL 🛏🛏🛏🛏

RUSTY - 10 POINTS

FINALLY 🏁 For the FIRST time in nearly 7 weeks, our perennial caboose 🚂 is OUT of last place 🚨🚨🚨 Is this the start of the greatest 16 points comeback the work has ever seen??? Mmmmmm probably not 😐 BUT WHO KNOWS???!!! Everyone loves a good underdog story and I can't wait to see where Rusty ends up!

GABBY - 10 POINTS

10 points for our girl Gabby, not amazing, but not bad 👍 I think she could have done a little better but she has a rather frenetic social calendar to keep up:

JULIETTE - 5 POINTS

In honor of Halloween Juliette decided to be Tarzan and Jane 🌳🌳🌳 UNFORTUNATELY for her she channeled the brain of Tarzan and the brawn of Jane 🏋️‍♀️ This FIVE point performance was less Tarzan and more George of the Jungle, OOF 🤮https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119190/

Alrighty everyone CONGRATS on a great bounce back week (except Juliette) , glad to see everyone back at it (except JuJu). I'm looking forward to another GREAT week coming up (except Thomas the JuJu Train) 🚂🚂 see you all next time!

[pennzance]

Ghostbusters: Port Huron (Episode 25)

Episode 25: Possession is 9/10ths

November 3rd, 1998

Investigation report by Eric

Mr. Kaye finally got in touch with us. He’s with the General, getting us some help for what Bryan keeps calling a ‘cross rip’, which does not sound good. He advised us to chase down a few loose ends to maybe prevent the worst from happening, so today I’m off to find Stanley.

I’ve been trying to find him since we got back from Eloise, but he’s been difficult to track down. When I asked at the Edison Inn, they said he was on sabbatical. Something about violently lashing out at a co-worker. They were concerned that he was suffering some sort of psychotic break from the pressure of his job, but I’m here to tell you that MY job is SO much more stressful.

A man matching Stan’s description apparently turned up in Detroit going by the name Fred Ashton. Bryan’s got a theory that Stan is being possessed by the spirit of a dead con-man turned apocalypse cult leader. So that’s fun. I’m no expert of how to… unpossess? Is that a word? How to unpossess a person, so what I do when I FIND Stanley is going to be a lot of improvisation.

Still, knowing that Stan is probably wherever our missing PKE bomb has gone helps me to narrow down some spots to find him. Places where he can hide something that big without it raising attention, to start with. I visited every large garage and scrap yard in PoHo in the last day that I could find, but no sign of Stan or the mobile grid. It was an exhausting day, and it honestly felt like a bit of a waste of time.

I called the Edison Inn again to see if anyone there had heard something, but that wasn’t helpful. Stan didn’t have any family or any friends either that anyone seemed to know about. So that was another dead end. How the hell do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found and may not even be in the same county as you?

So today I drove the Ecto-908 with Jason down to Detroit to see if we could retrace his steps. We met up with Hullford at the Detroit branch, doing weirdly well after their manager vanished without a trace. According to the paperwork, Stan/Fred was driving a 1996 Red Peterbilt Sleeper Truck, the kind of semi-truck with the little apartment in the back. So, we just needed to find one of those hauling a laser containment grid and Stan would most likely be IN it. Cool.

We took the road back to Port Huron slow. Stan would be heading there, it’s where Fred Ashton was operating before his death. We just needed to spot the truck at a rest stop or something. Jason was even smart enough to suggest that he could have put the containment unit into a standard Semi trailer, one of the big boxy ones. I thought he was crazy because how would Stanley Richardson have the upper body strength necessary to pull that off, but he reminded me that possessed bodies have a habit of exhibiting superhuman strength.

Every red Peterbilt we saw between Port Huron and Detroit got a knock on the door and a quick look over by us. We even knocked a few blue ones just in case Stan had swapped the paint to lay low. When we got back to Port Huron, very late at night, I resolved to go out looking again tomorrow.

But sitting here writing the report, I don’t know. It feels like I should have better or more information. I mean, I can pinpoint WHEN Stanley got possessed, when the big horse monster flew into the Edison Inn ballroom. His whole mood and demeanor changed and in hindsight I should have been able to tell before he fled the scene. If I’d been more on the ball back then maybe I could have stopped this before it started.

Self-deprecation aside, There’s still the big problem of what we know versus what we don’t know, and we really don’t have any idea what we don’t know right now. Freddy Ashton/ Dr. Lyman/Amadeus Filch is a ghost that has possessed Stanley Richardson and hijacked a very volatile and full Laser Containment Grid for… what? The fabric of reality is wearing pretty thin under the Bluewater Bridge, at least that’s what Jeremy and Bryan tell me, but why? And what does that have to do with Captain Hatchet or the Huron Indians he slaughtered? Or this talisman we’ve been holding onto for months now?

Two managers go AWOL on Halloween while all of THAT is going on, and I’m not supposed to find that suspicious?

I’ve made mistakes on this job. A lot of them, honestly. And some of those mistakes have put a lot of lives in danger. But I am not about to let my hometown get wiped off the map or become ground zero for god knows what kind of apocalyptic cataclysm because of me.

I don’t know where all these trains are going to collide, but when they do whatever the resulting chaos creates is going to have to go through me before it wins. And I’m gonna kick its ass.

End of Report.

ADDITIONAL: According to the home office, positive energy or positively charged objects can help a person fight off possession. There’s apparently a way to convert slime into a medium for these positive energies and a thick coating of that should basically do the trick, with the side effect of making the possessed person in question just lovely to be around. I’ve started putting together a ‘Slime Blower’ based on the specifications I got faxed to me from the home office, with the warning that this is all still VERY experimental and not well understood, so to use the device and methods with the utmost caution. -Jeremy.

#pennzance writes #ghostbusters #ghostbusters port huron