#Why didn't I pick a job where I can just sit at a computer all day and not have to talk to anyone

[pigaletta]

.

[leah-lover]

Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Part 1. Part 2

Summary : what happened that night.

4 years ago 

“ stop staring at me and focus on the meeting.” you subtly text your girlfriend from across the room. You were sitting behind the computer so that you can control the slides and she was sitting with the rest of the team. You shoot each other a quick smile and redirect your focus towards the presentation. Once the meeting is over you grab your laptop and head towards the entrance. You were then stopped by Jorge vilda. “ As a part of my coaching staff I expect you to be present at my meetings not just with your body but also with your mind.” you look at him confused. “ giggling and smiling at your phone while I was talking is not acceptable.” 

“ sir it was just one text.” you try to justify yourself. “ Well tell your boyfriend that while you are in camp this team is your number 1 priority.” you didn't have a chance to say anythiçng because he left as soon as he finished talking. You brush off his comments and text your girlfriend about her whereabouts. You then head to her room as she instructed you. When you enter you put your laptop on the table and find your usual place next to her body. You nuzzle on her chest and just lay there as she strokes your hair. 

“ tough day?” she asked alexia. 

“ something like that.” you respond. You then turn around so that you can face her. 

“ Your free kicks were amazing today at practice. You might even be the number 1 in the upcoming games. your reaction time is also over the charts. It's near perfect.” 

“ This is becoming my favorite thing in camp.” 

“ what me telling you about how good you are?” 

“ no, you sharing the bed with me.” 

“ You know I can't stay for long. If he finds out about us we both are out of jobs.” 

“ how would he know? Please just tonight and I won't ask you again. I really need you.” Once alexia asked something of you you couldn't say no. Besides, you really missed her. “ okay but just for tonight.” you then kiss her and cuddle with her for the rest of the night. *

Since you didn't come back to your room your phone died. So as soon as you sneaked out of alexia’s room, headed to yours and plugged it in. Once you got out of the shower you unlocked it to find 10 missed calls, and 6 messages from none other than vilda. You panic as you open the messages. 

Why are you not answering? Why are you not in your room? Where are you? I can't keep looking for you all night? Fine if you don't answer i will go look for answers myself? 

Your heartbeat was faster than it had ever been.  You take a deep breath change out of your robe and pick up your phone to call him. 

“ conference room now.” he says as soon as he picks up leaving you no room for debate. 

Once you go to the conference room in which you were alone with him. He pointed to a chair so you sit there he doesn't though he kept standing. You found yourself speechless. 

“ I employ you with my team because I trust you. I think you have good judgment. But you failed me.” you feel a lump form in your through. “ You failed  me not only with your choice of lifestyle but also who you choose to corrupt and involve with you in this messed up situation. .” you close your eyes so that you won't cry while he still stands in front of you. “ I gave you a job, a   good one. I thought you were my right hand and that you would replace me when i decide to leave. But forming an indecent relationship  with one of my players is off limits.” you feel a knife jam in your heart and a tear leaves your eye. “ Your relationship is wrong and shouldnt have happened. You are lucky I like you so I am gonna give you a chance to change. Break up with her and apologize to me and you can keep your job and she won't be called up anymore. 

His last sentences changed your stance from scared to angry. 

“ Who the hell do you think you are?” you snap. 

“ I am the one who gave you two jobs and I am the one who can take it away from you. Plus I am trying to correct your choice of lifestyle because it is wrong.” 

“ choice of lifestyle. You have to be fucking kidding me. I love alexia putellas, i love a woman. Does it bother you that I love her?  Well go fuck yourself because nothing will tear us apart. And if you take this job away from me I will sue you even if it's the last thing I will do in life.” you were angry and furious. 

“ Nobody wants you here. The players feel uncomfortable because of your new relationship as confessed by the captain last night. So sue me if you want you won't win. Now hand over your badge, get your stuff and leave. You are fired." His blast words left you lifeless. “ as confessed by the captain last night” last night you were sleeping with alexia so it had to irene. You move on autopilot and almost break her door as you knock so hard. Once she stood in front of you you didn't find it in you to scream or fight. 

“ why?” you ask, sounding defeated. 

“ He asked me where you were and he threatened to kick me out of the team.” she said calmly. 

“ So you rat me and your friend out. You couldn't have told him I went for a run. We are friend irene. I didn't think you would betray me like that. I trusted you with the thing I love most in life and you took it away from me so that you could protect yourself. You could have lied.” you say crying. 

“ It was all bound to be exposed with time.” 

“ Is that what you are going to tell yourself so that you can sleep at night? You didn't have to tell him that my relationship made you uncomfortable. You didn't have to tell him anything.   You ruined my life irene. I lost my job because of you. I will never forgive you for that. never. “ you turned your back and left. You went to Alexia's room after. Once she saw your red eyes she took you in for a hug. In her warmth you cried. You cried because of Irene's betrayal. You cried because you lost your job. You cried because you lost everything. 

“ I love you. I love so much amor.” the way alexia said it felt weird to you so you got out of her hold and looked at her. She wiped the tears from your cheeks and took your lips for a searing kiss. She kissed you with so much passion and hunger it left your lips red. 

“ Alexia, what's wrong?” you ask concerned. 

“ He talked to me and asked me to choose between you and the team and I chose the team.” she said with tears in her eyes. 

“ why is it that everybody say things so calmly like its nothing? Is my love for you worth  nothing?” 

“ My whole family, my father’s legacy, everyone depends on me to make them proud. I need to stay in the team for them.” 

“ And what about me? Is everything we dreamt about gone in the wind?”

“ This is more painful than I could have ever imagined. I never thought we would have to leave each other. But my family comes first.” 

Her words cut through your heart and left nothing behind. You kiss her again for the last time; go to your room, collect your things and leave the hotel without talking to anyone. You felt your heart turn to stone as you saw the hotel in your rearview mirror. That day you lost your job, your life, your dream, your purpose, your love and also your heart. That day destroyed you without mercy. 

[justlikeheavenfest]

register now for access to passes, on sale this friday at 11am PT. May awaits with arms outstretched. 🫶 $49.99 down payment plans available. www.justlikeheavenfest.com

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 

You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 

You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 

It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 

You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 

You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 

A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 

“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 

“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 

You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 

Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 

“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  

“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 

“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 

You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 

You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

You nod and look down at yourself. 

“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 

“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 

She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 

As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 

“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 

“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 

“I know, I wasn’t--” 

“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 

“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 

“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 

You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 

Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 

“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 

Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 

She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 

You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 

“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 

“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 

“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 

“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 

“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 

You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 

“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 

“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 

“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 

“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 

He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 

“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 

“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 

You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 

“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 

You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 

[heartfullofleeches]

What if incel reader wants to turn a new leaf but V is making that extremely hard since he's fueling reader's gaming addiction and reader decides to leave him, albeit very reluctantly

(Angst time)

[Guys, I just got my first job! Didn't think anything would come in so soon since I just got my degree. Dont know when I'll have the time to log on, but I'll miss you. Take care.]

It happened again. This is exactly why you rarely played multiplayer anymore. Time and time again, people would detail their milestones in life, never to be seen again. New career. A baby. The list went on and on and on. It made you think about your life. Quitting your job and leeching off someone who gave you his all to play video games nearly twenty four hours a day. It's pathetic. You're pathetic- but you dont want things to stay this way.

You tried so hard to turn yourself around. Applying to jobs in the area, cutting back on your time online. The jobs never got back to you and V would remind you of a new dlc coming to a game you loved, pulling you right back in. V. You don't want to admit it. You wished for a reality where it wasn't true, but he was your biggest obstacle. His care, as well meaning as it was, was weighing you down and leaving you forever a shell of the person you were growing to be. If you wanted to get better, you'd have to let him go.

"H-hey, V. There's something I need to talk to you about. Before I start, I need to say that it isn't you. I love you, but I can't do this. Maybe, in a few years we can meet up and start over, but for now I-"

You choke. Tears flow in your reflection. You break down, crying over the bathroom sink for the millionth time. Even in practice, you can't stop yourself from falling apart. Your cries rebound against the walls, through the crack in the door where angry eyes watch as you wilt away on the bathroom floor. They're torn between comforting you, and breaking your computer to atoms. As much as it bound you to him, V always knew there was a possibility that it could tear you apart just as easily. He decides to take the third option, and quietly leaves the house.

-

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK."

V slams his fist into the steering wheel. He claws at his skin, picking at his filth ridden body and attempting to relieve his air flow as he hyperventilates. You can't leave him. You can't. He can't go back to watching you from afar, wondering how you feel beneath his touch. Having that beautiful grin directed at him. He felt horrible to see you in so much pain, but he refused to accept fault. To let you go. He just had to ease up, give you some of the freedom you so desperately craved.

-

You're sitting on the couch when he finally returns home. He uncharacteristically quiet. You rise, chewing on your lips.

"V, I-"

He hugs you. "It's okay."

Your eyes water. "No, it's not."

"I was here earlier..." He squeezes you tighter. "I heard everything you said."

By the way he shakes, you can tell he's crying too.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be... Let me help you."

"How can you possibly help?"

"My parents. They own a company. We can get you a job. Mail room, office work, it doesn't matter. We can switch off on the housework, go out more. Please...."

"I don't want to lose you, Y/n."

You crumble, sobbing like a baby as you cling onto him and use his shirt to catch your tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You've done so much for me and I was just going to leave."

V hushes you and rubs circles into your back. "It's okay, baby. You'll get better and everything will be okay. Okay?"

You sniffle as he wipes and kisses away your tears. "Okay..."

"Good. I'm gonna go take a quick smoke, but while I do, you go get dressed so we can actually go out tonight. Sound good?"

"Yeah.." You smile a bit. "It does."

"Good." V kisses your forehead and you part ways. Walking outside and leaning against the railing, he pulls put his phone and dials a number. What he didn't expect was an answer on the first ring."

"Hey, Mom?... Yeah, it's me. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Can you give my partner a job? Nothing too crazy, just something to keep them on their toes. Give them a couple promotions maybe, then fire them in a few months. The cameras in the main building are up to date, right?"

[dutifullyscreechingdragon]

Tim Stoker X Archival Assistant!reader

Summary: here you go, some headcanons for our Tim and how your relationship would start, enjoy:)

You first met Tim as an archival Assistant. Your first day on the job.

You were joining a bit later than all the others. You still had some things left to finish at your previous position at the Institute and you do not leave things half done.

Tim's first reaction to you was to flirt. To flirt shamelessly:

"Hey gorgeous, what brings you down to our dark, creepy archives?"

It only escalated from here

You were positively flustered (Tim can have that effect even on the most confident of people. No one stands a chance if Tim uses 100% of his charms)

And eventually, you were rescued by a laughing Sasha:

"Come on, Tim! Leave the girl alone! You don't want to scare away a new Archival Assistant"

"Me? I am positively delightful!" Tim put his had on the heart, pretending to be mortaly wounded by Sasha's statement.

"I can't imagine a universe where I'd be scaring away a girl... Especially this charming" he'd finish winking at you, prompting you to laugh lightly.

"So, an Archival Assistant, eh?" Tim continued in a suave tone

"Starting today, yeah" you replied.

"Alas, my prayers have been answered" Tim raised his arms toward the ceiling "I have been graced with seeing your pretty face each morning!"

His flirting didn't stop. In fact, it escalated exponentially over time

The next morning he would greet you with a pick up line. And then the next morning and the next...

He seemed to have an endless supply of them.

Somehow he managed to not repeat a single one.

Definitely uses cute nicknames on you: sweetheart, darling, babe.

Will sometimes try cringy ones just to get a rise out of you.

You knew Tim's reputation, so took all his flirting attempts with a grain of salt.

"You can't have me seriously believing that Tim, 'I can charm a copier if I put my mind to it' Stoker, actually has feelings for me" you laughed.

Sasha sighed. She has just finished listening to Tim's 'Why cant she believe I have feelings for her? I have been so open and genuine about them' rant.

Tim definitely tries distracting you from your work, preventing you from doing anything productive. Any chance he gets:

You were currently sitting at your desk, trying to find any trace online regarding the statement of the week. You were pulled out of your thoughts by wheels skidding on the floor. Looking up you saw Tim on a wheely chair, sliding up next to you.

"Did you know that..."

or another time:

Your peaceful work was interrupted by a paper airplane hitting the side of you head. You looked up and saw a grinning Tim Stoker. He waved at you and motioned for you to unfold the paper. Once you did, you saw a cutesy doodle of you and him holding hands and a bunch of hearts around. You simply raised an eyebrow and put the drawing aside.

Tim was, however, pleasantly surprised, seeing it taped to the side of you computer screen the next day.

Did I mention flirting? I feel like I should mention it again, for good measure. Flirting Lot's of flirting. Lot's of shameless flirting

Sasha definitely notices Tim's feelings for you. Almost instantly.

And she would tease him. Mercilessly. Relentlessly.

She would also take on the role of your biggest shipper. Whenever you and Tim talk, you better believe she is making heart shapes at both of you from a safe distance.

She also uses her amazing computer skills to make cute and embarrassing edits of you two.

Sasha is also, coincidentally, the most amazing wing-woman ever (probably because she had to take action after seeing you and Tim pine for each other relentlessly).

You would be sorting through the statements when she would approach you and ask sneakily:

"So, Tim took you out on a date, yet?"

"No" you'd say and add quietly "Unfortunately"

This wouldn't slip past Sasha's keen ears:

"Unfortunately? So you do want to go on a date with him!"

You'd splutter to deny it, only prompting her to laugh more.

"Maybe if you sent him some more... Positive feedback to his flirting attempts and maybe told him a simple 'yes' to his countless attempts to invite you out... Maybe then, you'd already be smooching and planning your wedding..." Sasha said pointedly and the added more wistfully "and maybe then I wouldn't have to listen to his rants about you"

After quite a restless night you decided to give it a shot. "Why not?" You reasoned. What's the worst thing that can happen? An awkward break up when he realises he doesn't like you that much and having to work with him for at least another year? You decided not to dwell on that much.

Obviously Tim was low-key surprised when instead of shutting down his flirting attempts you flirted back. He was even more surprised when you agreed to go on a date with him.

He nearly lost his composure, but once he finally processed what happened, he beamed at you and tripled his flirting.

Throughout the day he was very hyper and becoming a bit too much to his colleagues and you

But can you blame him? He finally got the green light form you. Of course he's going to rant about it to Sasha. Of course he is going to make small doodles on the margins of his paperwork that he is later to hand in to Jon.

Tim DEFINITELY took you kayaking on you first date:)

It's a great opportunity to flex his muscles and have great fun at the lake.

Chances are you ended up falling into the water:

You were rowing in perfect harmony while exchanging some quips back and forth. It was great. Until Tim said something along the lines of:

"Sure, you're right. Can't argue with that cuteness. You could probably say that the Earth is flat and I'd believe you" he briefly took his hand off the oar to ruffle your hair.

"Hey! If I ever tell you nonsense like that, I expect you to correct me" you turn to smack him with your oar. Tim ducks out of the way, making your kayak rock from side to side.

"Don't do that! We're gonna flip the boat" You say gripping the side of the kayak for balance.

Tim grins wickedly before shifting to the other side, making the kayak careen dangerously "Don't do what? This?" he suddenly goes to the other side.

"Yes! Don't-" you're cut off as the kayak predictably flipped over and you both ended up in the slightly chilly water.

Tim laughed. You prepared to give him an angry tirade, but couldn't help laughing with him.

You got out of the water at some point... Completely soaked through.

You pulled off your shirt and put it to dry, huddling in a blanket, which, by some miracle, wasn't completely wet.

"You sh-should take off your shirt to dry" you told Tim, chattering your teeth.

"Woah! If you wanted to see me shirtless, you didn't have to flip the kayak" Tim said, taking his shirt off "You could've just asked" he smirked at you. Prompting an eye roll.

"You do remember that you were the one who flipped it, right?" You deadpanned raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm...." He pretends to think "Maybe I wanted you to see me shirtless" Tim shrugged and said "Details"

You could only shake your head and laugh.

And of course the only logical solution was to cuddle. For warmth. And because it felt nice

Tim wrapped his arms around your torso and snuggled into your neck, while you fried some marshmallows for s'mores on a campfire.

When you came the next day holding hands, Sasha was extatic.

She might or might not have started planning your wedding.

A/n: anyway, that concludes the headcanons, I hope you like it:) I'm definitely writing headcanons for Dating!! Tim

[atlasscrumpit]

Platonic Miguel x Reader

(A fic where you’re Miguel’s daughter from another reality)

Miguel was exhausted, he sat next to his computer in the spider society, trying his best to not fall asleep.

“Hello?” He heard a voice call out, it sounded like the voice of a child.

He quickly got up and jumped down to see a small girl clutching a teddy with a bandage covering half of her face.

It took him a moment before he realised something.

“Y/N.” He whispered as you looked up at him, he could see absolute fear in your eyes.

“D-Daddy…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to go wandering, I don’t know how I ended up here, I’m sorry.” You whispered as you began to sob.

Miguel knelt down and looked at you sadly. He knew you weren’t his daughter technically and somehow you’d ended up here in his reality.

“Hey, it’s okay, little one. Do you know how you ended up here?” He asked as you looked at him in confusion.

“I don’t understand, daddy. Why are you wearing a costume?” You asked making him smile a little.

“I know this is confusing, but I’m not your actual daddy. Somehow you’ve ended up in my reality.” He tried to explain, not really knowing how to explain this to a child.

“I don’t understand.” You cried out as Miguel looked at you sadly.

“Here, come with me and I’ll show you something.” He said reaching forward, he noticed you stepped back and clutched your teddy tighter.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He whispered reassuringly as you slowly stepped forward and let him pick you up.

You held onto him and your teddy as he looked down at you.

"Hold on tight, okay?" He said as you nodded, suddenly he lifted into the air and you held on for dear life.

He landed and slowly placed you down on a chair, you looked around seeing high tech computers surrounding you.

"What is all this stuff?" You muttered, looking around in amazement.

"Well, it helps me with my job. My job is to protect reality." He said as you looked up at him.

"That's so cool... My daddy is an accountant." You muttered making him chuckle softly.

"Can you tell me what happened to your face?" He asked as he knelt down to face where you were sitting.

"Daddy got angry at me and he told me to never tell anyone... But, he has a weird disease that makes him angry and makes his eyes go red and makes him have claws when he's mad. I did something bad and his claws came out and he got me by accident." You explained, looking away from him.

"Is that the first time he's hurt you?" He asked as you looked at him and shook your head a little.

"He's just sad... When Mommy passed away he got really angry." You muttered as Miguel looked at you sadly.

Here he was praying everyday he could have his daughter back and here you were with your father alive that didn't even care for you.

But, he couldn't do anything.

He spent his life making sure stuff like this stayed in order.

"He shouldn't be hurting you like that, little one. He's supposed to love you and take care of you. I wish I could keep you here... With all my heart I wish I could keep you safe for the rest of your life. But, I can't. I have to take you back to your father." He whispered sadly as you looked at him and nodded.

"Okay..." You muttered sadly, practically breaking his heart.

He picked you up in his arms once more before opening a portal back to your world.

He stepped inside and found himself in your room before he tucked you into bed.

"Thank you for helping me." You whispered as he knelt beside your bed.

He brushed his hand through your hair and smiled.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You be good and don't tell anyone about this, okay?" He whispered before kissing your forehead.

"Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret." You said as he looked down at you and smiled softly.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He whispered before he crept out of your room.

He peaked in to see the Miguel in this universe completely asleep.

After a bit of quiet rummaging he found a picture of his deceased wife and placed it on the bedside table of Miguel.

He could interfere but maybe if the him from this universe remembered who he used to be, he would stop the abuse.

But, maybe the was just wishful thinking.

"Please... Please, take care of her."

[justlikeheavenfest]

register now for access to passes, on sale this friday at 11am PT. May awaits with arms outstretched. 🫶 $49.99 down payment plans available. www.justlikeheavenfest.com

[umlewis]

The Real Deal

Silverstone, 11 June 2006. With England in the grip of World Cup fever, the crowd for the British Grand Prix is expected to be down on recent years. There is little likelihood of any home success in the main event. Still, the stands and spectator banks are starting to fill up slowly as the GP2 race starts at 9 AM. Lewis Hamilton has started down in eighth place, but he is working his way through the field with characteristic aggressive driving. He is soon closing on the squabble for second place. Brazil's Nelson Piquet, Jr. and the Monegasque driver Clivio Piccione go through Copse side by side at around 140 mph, but, as they accelerate out of the corner, they are suddenly three wide as Hamilton draws alongside. Into the five sweeping bends that make up the daunting Becketts complex they go, with Piquet on the inside. Hamilton carries huge momentum around the outside of the first left-hander to claim the racing line and second place as the road goes right then left again; Piquet drives straight through a temporary advertising hoarding. The cheers from the crowd are by far the loudest of the weekend as the young driver, then known only to hardcore petrolheads, picks off the leader and cruises to victory. Unknown he no longer is: 'Lewis Hamilton + Silverstone' is now one of the most popular searches on YouTube. Had Britain's latest sporting hero-in-waiting heard the excitement of the crowd? "I didn't, no," he said afterwards. "It all went silent at that point because we were so close, and I don't know if my body was preparing for something. You know when, if you're going to crash, your body gets ready to protect itself? I felt my body and the adrenaline all building up ready for something, and when I came out it all relaxed, kind of saying, "Phew, thank God for that.'" "I'm working my arse off," he continued, "not only to do the best job possible, but also to get that seat at McLaren. I really want that. It's an opportunity not many people get. If I can get that seat then I think - and I feel very confident - that I can make best use of it.'

A little under a year later, Hamilton not only has that seat at McLaren but, when we meet soon after his second place in the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, he is leading the Formula One drivers' championship. Today, however, he is back doing the unseen graft of testing. Along with the other 10 teams that contest the world championship, McLaren have moved on from Barcelona to the Paul Ricard circuit near Marseille in the south of France. The former home of the French Grand Prix is now simply a test track, albeit about the most sophisticated in the world - as you would expect from a facility owned by Bernie Ecclestone, the billionaire ringmaster of Formula One. Everything is of the highest standard and, just as the proprietor would like, the team vehicles are lined up so precisely they would do justice to the contents of David Beckham's fridge.

At the back of a grey McLaren bus, sheltered from the warm Mistral wind, sits Lewis Hamilton. It is 12 hours since testing began and he has driven 98 laps, posted the fastest time by more than a second and been through a two-and-a-half-hour debrief with his engineers. For a short while he is alone, staring at a computer screen with a diagram of the circuit and a screed of data on it. Not all his work is at 190mph and in front of 140,000 people.

After the excitement of a grand prix, testing must seem like a chore. Does it make him a better racer?

'I don't think so,' he says, preparing to close the laptop. 'You get that crafting from karting, the wheel-to-wheel racing you have there.' Karting is where most successful racing drivers first turn a wheel in anger; the competition is ferocious.

'The more racing you do the more you learn,' Hamilton continues. 'I'm a racer naturally, so that's why I believe I'm good in the races. In the race it's all about consistency, and to get consistency you need to learn about the car and that comes from testing. But the test is mainly to build your awareness of what is around you, that you are understanding the car and to fine tune the car and yourself. Sometimes I don't make any changes to the car and I find half a second in myself. Some people find it really difficult, like the engineers, they say, "What can we do?" and I say, "Don't do anything. I quite like the car as it is, I just need to improve myself."'

Hamilton is seeking to improve skills that have seen him make a record-breaking start to his F1 career. He finished third in his first race, the Australian Grand Prix, then second in Malaysia and Bahrain - a record run on the podium for a rookie, which he extended in Spain to become the youngest driver to lead the world championship.

At last Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Hamilton finished second yet again, this time behind his McLaren team-mate, double world champion Fernando Alonso. But there were signs of frustration from the young Englishman at a victory missed, as he slipped to second in the title race. Hamilton was called in for his first pit stop earlier than he expected, just as he was preparing to put in some really quick laps to extend his advantage over Alonso, who had already stopped.

'I was actually quite surprised because I was fuelled to do five laps, maybe six laps, longer than Fernando and they stopped me with three laps to go,' Hamilton said after the race. 'There wasn't much time to pull out a gap or improve my time; I wasn't really given much time for it. I came in two or three laps after him [Alonso]. That was unfortunate, but that's the way it goes. I've got number two on my car, I am the number two driver, it is something I have to live with.'

McLaren's team principal, Ron Dennis, rebutted allegations of team orders and race manipulation, strictly against F1 rules since 2002 when Ferrari instructed Rubens Barrichello to allow Michael Schumacher past to win the Austrian Grand Prix. 'We are scrupulously fair at all times in how we run this grand prix team,' he said. 'We will never favour one driver, no matter who it is. We don't have team orders, we had a strategy to win this race. There will be places where they will be absolutely free to race, but this isn't one of them.'

That last line attracted the attention of the FIA, the sport's governing body, who started investigating 'incidents' concerning the McLaren team during the race.

Since his debut in Melbourne on 18 March, Hamilton has transformed the popularity of grand-prix racing, not least because he is young, British, good looking and thrillingly fast. He is also mixed race in a sport that is overwhelmingly white; inevitably, he has been compared with Tiger Woods. 'I've never seen a rookie as good as him,' says Damon Hill. 'Nobody has. He's coped with everything he's faced. He's been superb.'

Triple world champion Sir Jackie Stewart is equally impressed. 'I think Lewis is going to rewrite the book,' he said recently. 'We'll see a new generation of what I call properly prepared, professional racing drivers. I'm talking about fully rounded; [Michael] Schumacher became that, but even Schumacher wasn't as good as he should have been, not in terms of the driving but the total package. I believe Lewis will create the benchmark for a whole generation of drivers. Niki Lauda and James Hunt changed the culture of racing drivers, but they weren't role models. They said nothing, didn't give a damn. Lewis Hamilton can become a role model.'

Even the unflappable Bernie Ecclestone is excited by Hamilton. 'He's got a lot of talent,' he says. 'The guy's a winner. It became clear pretty quickly that he will win a grand prix some time - sooner rather than later. He'll win the championship - but I don't think this year. It would be asking a bit much and be a lot of pressure to expect that. It would be fantastic if he did, but I don't think we should talk about that at this stage.'

It is impossible when meeting Hamilton not <to be impressed or struck by just how young and fresh-faced he is, even when dressed up in McLaren T-shirt and jacket. He is courteous, intelligent, engaged and never loses eye contact, even if you sense that, as we talk, he would rather be getting on with some hardcore data analysis. He speaks of his time on the practice circuit with relish. 'It is quite satisfying when you go out and you know that you needed to brake 10 metres later … building up the courage to brake those 10 metres later, not lock up the tyres, and really pull it off. Sometimes you go into a corner and you think, "I'm not going to make it," but you say, "OK, we're going to do it." And you do it and you think, "Shoot, what was the big fuss in the first place," but you think about the advantage you've gained when you exit the corner - you're like, "Yeah, that was good." It's an amazing feeling.'

A grand-prix team can take more than 100 personnel to a race and that doesn't include the test team who work away from the public gaze. Hamilton is eager to acknowledge that there are others who contribute to his success. 'Sometimes you don't even notice the changes the engineer has made,' he says. 'My engineer is so smart and he understands what I say and the way I communicate - that's a great feeling. When someone understands what you're talking about and is able to translate that into your car, it runs better.'

Hamilton has been supported by McLaren since Ron Dennis recruited him into the team's driver development programme as a 13-year-old in 1998. The team contributed as much as £5m to his career, and offered technical support and advice as he worked his way up to the junior formulas. He graduated to racing cars in 2001 and has won the championship in every series he has driven. The step to F1 was a natural progression and everything was done - including keeping him distant from the media - to ensure that Hamilton was as prepared as possible. He has appeared at the obligatory press conferences, but has never before done an interview.

'I am amazed and proud to be here,' he says now, 'and I'm learning all the time. As soon as I signed for the team they sent a steering wheel round to my house so I could learn all the controls and the sequences for the start. I just kept it in my lap. When I got to the first race, I wasn't nervous about the start because I knew everything.'

McLaren made sure Hamilton was physically prepared and it is hard to imagine anyone looking fitter. Countless trips to the gym ensured that he would develop the strength and stamina to cope with the rigours of racing an F1 car for up to two hours in extreme heat.

'It was extremely exciting to do all the training,' Hamilton says. 'There was a point where we were doing all the same things over and over again, but then we started changing things and it became exciting again. You wouldn't believe what it's like in the car, the forces that are on you. I finish every race with a black …' - he pauses, half smiles and then continues - ' …a darker line down my side where I've been pushed against the seat. But the race is the most exciting part, the first corner, the first pit stop. I am just going to get stronger and stronger. I'm not yet at my best.'

Hamilton, who was born on 7 January 1985 in Stevenage, Hertfordshire, has been immersed in motor racing since the age of eight. His parents, Carmen and Anthony, separated when he was two, and he lived with his mother until he was 10, before moving in with his father and stepmother Linda. A day out with his dad to Rye House kart track, a few miles south of Stevenage, changed the path of his life. He had already been karting and proved to be a natural, soon lapping his father, but now he decided that racing was what he wanted to do. A deal was struck between father and son: if Lewis worked hard at school, Anthony would support his son's karting.

Anthony was working as an IT manager as Lewis began making a name for himself on the kart circuit. Taking time off became a problem as his son's racing and testing took him all over the country and overseas. Eventually Anthony took redundancy so he could spend more time at the track. He did contract work and was sometimes doing two or three jobs at a time, including putting up estate agents' signs. In time, he set up his own computer company, which now employs 25 people, but his main role in life is working as his son's manager on a daily basis.

This article is more than 17 years old The real deal This article is more than 17 years old Oliver Owen Sat 2 Jun 2007 19.08 EDT

Silverstone, 11 June 2006. With England in the grip of World Cup fever, the crowd for the British Grand Prix is expected to be down on recent years. There is little likelihood of any home success in the main event. Still, the stands and spectator banks are starting to fill up slowly as the GP2 race starts at 9am. Lewis Hamilton has started down in eighth place, but he is working his way through the field, with characteristic aggressive driving.

He is soon closing on the squabble for second place. Brazil's Nelson Piquet Junior and the Monegasque driver Clivio Piccione go through Copse side by side at around 140mph, but, as they accelerate out of the corner, they are suddenly three wide as Hamilton draws alongside. Into the five sweeping bends that make up the daunting Becketts complex they go, with Piquet on the inside. Hamilton carries huge momentum around the outside of the first left-hander to claim the racing line and second place as the road goes right then left again; Piquet drives straight through a temporary advertising hoarding. The cheers from the crowd are by far the loudest of the weekend as the young driver, then known only to hardcore petrolheads, picks off the leader and cruises to victory. Unknown he no longer is: 'Lewis Hamilton + Silverstone' is now one of the most popular searches on YouTube.

Had Britain's latest sporting hero-in-waiting heard the excitement of the crowd?

'I didn't, no,' he said afterwards. 'It all went silent at that point because we were so close, and I don't know if my body was preparing for something. You know when, if you're going to crash, your body gets ready to protect itself? I felt my body and the adrenaline all building up ready for something, and when I came out it all relaxed, kind of saying, "Phew, thank God for that".

'I'm working my arse off,' he continued, 'not only to do the best job possible, but also to get that seat at McLaren. I really want that. It's an opportunity not many people get. If I can get that seat then I think - and I feel very confident - that I can make best use of it.'

A little under a year later, Hamilton not only has that seat at McLaren but, when we meet soon after his second place in the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, he is leading the Formula One drivers' championship. Today, however, he is back doing the unseen graft of testing. Along with the other 10 teams that contest the world championship, McLaren have moved on from Barcelona to the Paul Ricard circuit near Marseille in the south of France. The former home of the French Grand Prix is now simply a test track, albeit about the most sophisticated in the world - as you would expect from a facility owned by Bernie Ecclestone, the billionaire ringmaster of Formula One. Everything is of the highest standard and, just as the proprietor would like, the team vehicles are lined up so precisely they would do justice to the contents of David Beckham's fridge.

At the back of a grey McLaren bus, sheltered from the warm Mistral wind, sits Lewis Hamilton. It is 12 hours since testing began and he has driven 98 laps, posted the fastest time by more than a second and been through a two-and-a-half-hour debrief with his engineers. For a short while he is alone, staring at a computer screen with a diagram of the circuit and a screed of data on it. Not all his work is at 190mph and in front of 140,000 people.

After the excitement of a grand prix, testing must seem like a chore. Does it make him a better racer?

'I don't think so,' he says, preparing to close the laptop. 'You get that crafting from karting, the wheel-to-wheel racing you have there.' Karting is where most successful racing drivers first turn a wheel in anger; the competition is ferocious.

'The more racing you do the more you learn,' Hamilton continues. 'I'm a racer naturally, so that's why I believe I'm good in the races. In the race it's all about consistency, and to get consistency you need to learn about the car and that comes from testing. But the test is mainly to build your awareness of what is around you, that you are understanding the car and to fine tune the car and yourself. Sometimes I don't make any changes to the car and I find half a second in myself. Some people find it really difficult, like the engineers, they say, "What can we do?" and I say, "Don't do anything. I quite like the car as it is, I just need to improve myself."'

Hamilton is seeking to improve skills that have seen him make a record-breaking start to his F1 career. He finished third in his first race, the Australian Grand Prix, then second in Malaysia and Bahrain - a record run on the podium for a rookie, which he extended in Spain to become the youngest driver to lead the world championship.

At last Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Hamilton finished second yet again, this time behind his McLaren team-mate, double world champion Fernando Alonso. But there were signs of frustration from the young Englishman at a victory missed, as he slipped to second in the title race. Hamilton was called in for his first pit stop earlier than he expected, just as he was preparing to put in some really quick laps to extend his advantage over Alonso, who had already stopped.

'I was actually quite surprised because I was fuelled to do five laps, maybe six laps, longer than Fernando and they stopped me with three laps to go,' Hamilton said after the race. 'There wasn't much time to pull out a gap or improve my time; I wasn't really given much time for it. I came in two or three laps after him [Alonso]. That was unfortunate, but that's the way it goes. I've got number two on my car, I am the number two driver, it is something I have to live with.'

McLaren's team principal, Ron Dennis, rebutted allegations of team orders and race manipulation, strictly against F1 rules since 2002 when Ferrari instructed Rubens Barrichello to allow Michael Schumacher past to win the Austrian Grand Prix. 'We are scrupulously fair at all times in how we run this grand prix team,' he said. 'We will never favour one driver, no matter who it is. We don't have team orders, we had a strategy to win this race. There will be places where they will be absolutely free to race, but this isn't one of them.'

That last line attracted the attention of the FIA, the sport's governing body, who started investigating 'incidents' concerning the McLaren team during the race.

Since his debut in Melbourne on 18 March, Hamilton has transformed the popularity of grand-prix racing, not least because he is young, British, good looking and thrillingly fast. He is also mixed race in a sport that is overwhelmingly white; inevitably, he has been compared with Tiger Woods. 'I've never seen a rookie as good as him,' says Damon Hill. 'Nobody has. He's coped with everything he's faced. He's been superb.'

Triple world champion Sir Jackie Stewart is equally impressed. 'I think Lewis is going to rewrite the book,' he said recently. 'We'll see a new generation of what I call properly prepared, professional racing drivers. I'm talking about fully rounded; [Michael] Schumacher became that, but even Schumacher wasn't as good as he should have been, not in terms of the driving but the total package. I believe Lewis will create the benchmark for a whole generation of drivers. Niki Lauda and James Hunt changed the culture of racing drivers, but they weren't role models. They said nothing, didn't give a damn. Lewis Hamilton can become a role model.'

Even the unflappable Bernie Ecclestone is excited by Hamilton. 'He's got a lot of talent,' he says. 'The guy's a winner. It became clear pretty quickly that he will win a grand prix some time - sooner rather than later. He'll win the championship - but I don't think this year. It would be asking a bit much and be a lot of pressure to expect that. It would be fantastic if he did, but I don't think we should talk about that at this stage.'

It is impossible when meeting Hamilton not <to be impressed or struck by just how young and fresh-faced he is, even when dressed up in McLaren T-shirt and jacket. He is courteous, intelligent, engaged and never loses eye contact, even if you sense that, as we talk, he would rather be getting on with some hardcore data analysis. He speaks of his time on the practice circuit with relish. 'It is quite satisfying when you go out and you know that you needed to brake 10 metres later … building up the courage to brake those 10 metres later, not lock up the tyres, and really pull it off. Sometimes you go into a corner and you think, "I'm not going to make it," but you say, "OK, we're going to do it." And you do it and you think, "Shoot, what was the big fuss in the first place," but you think about the advantage you've gained when you exit the corner - you're like, "Yeah, that was good." It's an amazing feeling.'

A grand-prix team can take more than 100 personnel to a race and that doesn't include the test team who work away from the public gaze. Hamilton is eager to acknowledge that there are others who contribute to his success. 'Sometimes you don't even notice the changes the engineer has made,' he says. 'My engineer is so smart and he understands what I say and the way I communicate - that's a great feeling. When someone understands what you're talking about and is able to translate that into your car, it runs better.'

Hamilton has been supported by McLaren since Ron Dennis recruited him into the team's driver development programme as a 13-year-old in 1998. The team contributed as much as £5m to his career, and offered technical support and advice as he worked his way up to the junior formulas. He graduated to racing cars in 2001 and has won the championship in every series he has driven. The step to F1 was a natural progression and everything was done - including keeping him distant from the media - to ensure that Hamilton was as prepared as possible. He has appeared at the obligatory press conferences, but has never before done an interview.

'I am amazed and proud to be here,' he says now, 'and I'm learning all the time. As soon as I signed for the team they sent a steering wheel round to my house so I could learn all the controls and the sequences for the start. I just kept it in my lap. When I got to the first race, I wasn't nervous about the start because I knew everything.'

McLaren made sure Hamilton was physically prepared and it is hard to imagine anyone looking fitter. Countless trips to the gym ensured that he would develop the strength and stamina to cope with the rigours of racing an F1 car for up to two hours in extreme heat.

'It was extremely exciting to do all the training,' Hamilton says. 'There was a point where we were doing all the same things over and over again, but then we started changing things and it became exciting again. You wouldn't believe what it's like in the car, the forces that are on you. I finish every race with a black …' - he pauses, half smiles and then continues - ' …a darker line down my side where I've been pushed against the seat. But the race is the most exciting part, the first corner, the first pit stop. I am just going to get stronger and stronger. I'm not yet at my best.'

Hamilton, who was born on 7 January 1985 in Stevenage, Hertfordshire, has been immersed in motor racing since the age of eight. His parents, Carmen and Anthony, separated when he was two, and he lived with his mother until he was 10, before moving in with his father and stepmother Linda. A day out with his dad to Rye House kart track, a few miles south of Stevenage, changed the path of his life. He had already been karting and proved to be a natural, soon lapping his father, but now he decided that racing was what he wanted to do. A deal was struck between father and son: if Lewis worked hard at school, Anthony would support his son's karting.

Anthony was working as an IT manager as Lewis began making a name for himself on the kart circuit. Taking time off became a problem as his son's racing and testing took him all over the country and overseas. Eventually Anthony took redundancy so he could spend more time at the track. He did contract work and was sometimes doing two or three jobs at a time, including putting up estate agents' signs. In time, he set up his own computer company, which now employs 25 people, but his main role in life is working as his son's manager on a daily basis.

'If I didn't love it, I'm sure I wouldn't be as good as I am today because I'd have put half the effort in and just have done the races,' Lewis says, recalling the time he spent testing in his early karting days. 'I think you find drivers who just rely on their racing ability and don't do the hard yards. When you're young you don't really understand that philosophy: work hard and see the result. You think, "I can't be bothered to work hard now," and when you get there you struggle and complain. But if you really put the effort in you see the result. Even if you don't do well you know you've done the work, so next time you can improve on it.'

As soon as Hamilton started competing, the results were spectacular. Adam Jones, a journalist and ex-racer who now runs 100ccPR, an agency that deals in public relations for kart racers, remembers meeting Hamilton in 1994. 'Martin Howell, who owned the Playscape indoor kart track in Clapham, introduced us. He said, "Adam, this is Lewis - he's going to be a Formula One world champion." I shook his hand and said, "You're going to be a grand-prix champion, eh?" and Lewis looked at me and said, "Yes, I am." I thought, "Yeah, right." What struck me wasn't Lewis's steely determination but Martin's tone. He wasn't patronising Lewis or me; he meant what he said. Every magazine or newspaper article about Lewis mentions his karting background, but what they fail to say is just how good he was back in those days. Lewis hasn't just suddenly arrived; he's been around a long time.'

Michael Eboda is editor of the New Nation, the newspaper aimed at Britain's black community. He recalls arriving at Buckmore Park kart track in Kent to interview Hamilton and his father for The Observer in 1997. 'I got there and asked someone where I could find Lewis Hamilton. They said, "He's the only black kid here and he'll be about three laps ahead of everyone else." He was.' Eboda remembers the 12-year-old Hamilton as being polite and assured as they chatted in the back of a beaten-up old Peugeot hire car. He didn't want his father with him as they talked, but Eboda was more than a little surprised by the answer when he asked how Hamilton drives a kart so fast. 'I don't know why I'm so quick,' Lewis had said. 'When I come to a corner the answer just comes. I take what the answer says and it makes me take it as quickly as possible.'

He has always gone as quickly as possible. Kieran Crawley is boss of M-Sport, one of Britain's leading kart teams, and worked with the Hamiltons as Lewis made his way up through the karting levels. He remembers a race in Belgium, when Lewis was competing in the Junior Intercontinental A class, that proved just how quick he could be. 'Lewis was always stalling the kart, but you were allowed to wait by the side of the track with an engine starter. As they rolled on to the grid I could see Lewis looking for me. I thought, "Oh no, he's stalled it." I got the starter into the side pod just as the lights went to green. Lewis went off from the back of the grid and was already half a lap down. He caught the pack and went through it to finish fourth. He was up against some very good drivers - including Robert Kubica, the Pole who is now an F1 driver for BMW - and beat them. In F1 we haven't seen him come from the back, but that's when he's at his most dangerous. When he makes mistakes, just watch him go. I want to see him make some mistakes - then you'll see just how good he is.'

Does Hamilton relish the thought of charging through from the back after a mistake? It must happen one day soon in F1, as it did in Istanbul last year, in GP2, when he spun and worked his way up from 16th to second.

'I rarely make mistakes in races,' he says. 'In Istanbul that was one of the few mistakes I've ever made.'

But surely it was worth it?

'It was,' he says, smiling. 'It was great, but I was struggling in the car. The rear end was not right. Straight after that [the spin] I somehow extracted a little bit more from the tyres and I had this boost and everything's right, the car was great and things need to be …'

Momentarily he is lost in the memory of that epic drive. 'Look at Kimi [Raikkonen] in Japan in 2005, when he came from the back. Everything was right, the car was fantastic and he got out of trouble when he did some of the most amazing moves you've ever seen. He was buzzing, he enjoyed it and he won. I love those experiences. I love coming from the back.'

Hamilton's physical gifts don't just belong behind the wheel of a racing car. He took up karate after he caught the eye of the school bully. By the age of 12, he was a black belt. He was also a more-than-useful footballer at John Henry Newman School in Stevenage and played in the same team there as Ashley Young, the England under-21 midfielder who joined Aston Villa from Watford in January for £9.65m. 'I was quicker than Ashley Young, stronger than him, so I had that with me. But he was very skilled and very neat and would dribble the ball round people very nicely. I was very powerful in the team, I was always a midfielder and in my team I was the fittest by far because of my racing and the training I did. I'd run up and down and up and down and if someone tackled me I'd get them back. I'd always get them back because I never gave up, whereas a lot of people would get tackled then just leave it for the next stage of the game. I'd never let that happen.'

Like all top sportsmen, Hamilton is hugely competitive, whether in a racing car or out ten-pin bowling with his mother. Do all the fun things in life involve keeping score?

'I think at a young age everything I did competitively I wanted to win, and I hated not being the best at any sport I did. When I competed against anyone I thought, "I've got to win." But I've got to a point now that I play golf and I lose, and I can deal with it. It's not a negative energy, I can control that energy.'

So does he let his mother win at bowling?

'I don't ever let anyone win if I'm honest,' he says. 'I should let my brother win at some things, but it's very hard for me to do that.'

He is referring to his half-brother, Nicholas, who is 15 and has cerebral palsy. The two are extremely close. 'I always wanted a brother and I remember when my parents [as he always refers to his father and step-mother] first told me they were going to have a boy, I was well excited. It's quite a cool feeling to watch someone grow up, to see the difficulties and troubles he's had, the experience he's had. To go through them with him and see how he pulls out of them. I think he's just an amazing lad and I really love to do things for him. This weekend we're going racing remote-control cars. We bought him a new one, then I bought one so we can race together. I've been a couple of times and I get hassled a little bit now, but I had my dad to take me and he doesn't have time, so when I do have time I love to just take my brother down to the track. He loves a challenge and he's got a lot steeper challenges.'

The future for Lewis Hamilton has limitless possibilities. He will win many grands prix and world championships, perhaps even more than the seven titles that Michael Schumacher won before he retired at the end of 2006. He will very soon be improbably wealthy, even if, for now, his salary is reported to be £500,000 a season (team-mate Fernando Alonso is rumoured to earn 20 times as much). Dominic Curran, a director of Karen Earl Sponsorship, believes Hamilton has the potential to earn hundreds of millions of pounds. 'He has arrived with about as big a bang as possible,' Curran says. 'He's got something different - he's the first black F1 driver - which opens up a whole new market for him. Plus, he has charisma and star quality, he's a good-looking guy who speaks well, which is attractive to sponsors. And he's clean-cut.'

What does Hamilton think of all this? How does he see himself in the future? 'I think when I'm done I'd just like to go back to living a normal life and have a family and no worries,' he says. 'Just enjoy doing things with my brother. There's a lot of experiences in life which I haven't had yet, and doing that with him and doing that with my friends and not having the worries, just enjoying. It's such an important thing.'

How does he account for being so calm and grounded?

'It comes from my parents, yeah, and being taught to appreciate things. I was like every kid, you know. You get in trouble … I liked living life on the edge but I was always taught to appreciate things and say "thank you". I got that from my dad but also from my mum. A lot of my personality comes from my mum. It's a real half and half.'

At McLaren there is nothing but praise for their record-breaking recruit. 'I could launch into a whole range of eulogies,' says Ron Dennis. 'You just need to look at the history of F1 to see how his debut compares. How could anyone expect a start like this? And it's not just what he does on the track but it's what he says and how he says it. You have the impression that here is a guy who will keep his feet on the ground. He has enough Brownie points to avoid criticism if something goes wrong - which it will. It's inevitable for any driver. But you have the feeling that Lewis will be able to cope with that too.'

The team's chief executive, Martin Whitmarsh, knows exactly just how good Hamilton is. 'Since I joined McLaren in 1989, I've worked with a lot of great drivers, including [Alain] Prost, [Ayrton] Senna, Mika Hakkinen and now Fernando Alonso. It's pretty clear that Lewis ticks all the necessary boxes. It's too early to analyse, but if the trend continues there is no reason why he could not become the greatest driver ever.'

Hamilton's influence is extending far beyond the insular world of F1. Michael Eboda, of New Nation, can already see the impact he is having on black Britons. 'He's incredibly popular and, for the want of a better expression, he's a fantastic role model, as is his dad. It sends out a message to people that that is the way to bring up a kid.'

McLaren are excessively protective of their new star, in a manner reminiscent of how Alex Ferguson once chaperoned the young Ryan Giggs at Manchester United. This interview took many months to negotiate, and there were many stipulations on what I could and could not ask Hamilton - such as about race and ethnicity or indeed whether he intended, like most F1 drivers, to become a tax exile. At the Spanish Grand Prix meeting last month Hamilton had mentioned that he might one day have to move to Switzerland for tax reasons, but his father quickly killed the story.

McLaren need not worry excessively, because Hamilton will not let the team down. He has not been fazed by what he has achieved so far in his career, let alone in F1, where he has placed the superstars, including his team-mate, the double world champion Fernando Alonso, under intense pressure. The Lewis Hamilton story is much nearer the beginning than the end and the world is still waking up to just what is possible.

Is this what worries McLaren then, that they fear their new superstar might start to feel and act like one?

Perhaps Hamilton should answer that for himself. 'I've never read about something I've said, because I know what I've said,' he says before we part. 'My parents might say, "There's a good piece in the paper, do you want to read it?", but I won't read it. It's a good way of keeping your feet on the ground because when you read stuff like that you think, "Wow, it's great," and you feel yourself floating. As I don't read the stuff about me, I don't feel like a superstar. I don't understand people who do have that mentality, "I'm a superstar!" It's just a job. It's a fantastic job, and people just perceive you for some reason as a superstar, but at the end of the day I'm just Lewis. I've always been Lewis, and it's important to me to stay like that because people will take me like that.'

[lyfedda]

NOT AN OPEN RP

CW: MILD DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE, YOG-SOTHOTH BEING WEIRD AND GROSS WITH LYF.

Enjoy!

“Love, I'd really prefer if you weren't here,” Lyf said as they slipped on the amulet. “This could be dangerous and I could hurt you.”

“All the more reason for me to stay here,” Marius said, sitting beside them on the bed. Someone needs to be here to make sure you wake up. I don't want you trapped in your own mind with Yog-Sothoth.”

Lyf took Marius’ hand and squeezed, kissing him. “I'm not going to get trapped there. I'm ending this. He's ruined enough lives. He needs to go and I don't know anyone else who can do this.”

There was a pause. Marius nodded, knowing that there was no talking Lyf out of it regardless. He would trust that his lover knew what they were doing. “I’ll give you time. If something seems to be going wrong, I’m waking you up.”

Nodding, Lyf gave Marius another kiss. Just in case. “I love you,” they said as they laid down. The amulet was in place and they took several deep breaths before falling into a peaceful rest.

—

It was warm. Very warm. Lyfrassir groaned softly, not yet picking up their head. They felt like they hadn’t slept in ages. It was warm and they were comfortable. They hadn’t been so warm since-

“Edda!” Someone said, shoving their shoulders, which caused them to sit up hastily. “Cosmos, you’re sleeping on the job again? There was a laugh and Lyf had to rub their eyes, looking over to the source of the voice. Wait… was that..?

“Razler?” Lyf asked and brought a hand to their mouth. Yggdrasilian? They hadn’t spoken that so naturally in such a long time. What the fuck was going on?

“Who else?” Razler asked, scoffing a laugh and pushing them playfully. “If Onya sees you sleeping again, ez’s going to throw a fit,” he said, turning back to his computer. “And I don’t feel like hearing zer mouth.”

Lyf rubbed their head. They.. woke up from a dream? That was the only logical explanation. clearing their throat, they ran their hand down their face. “Please don't tell Onya, it's been a long couple of days.��� Wasn't it? What did they even do? Why didn't they remember clearly. They rubbed their forehead, groaning. “What… Comos. I'm exhausted.”

The train arrived, hadn't it? They were on the case, so. It made sense why they were tired.

“I keep telling you to take care of yourself,” Razler said, standing from his chair and walking over to Lyf, starting to massage their shoulders gently. “Look at you! You're all tense and you're holding it all right here.”

There was a moment they imagined someone else. They couldn't think of a face, but… someone else had done that. Recently, too. Why couldn't they remember? “Where's the Black Box?”

“The what?” Razler asked, his grasp on Lyf's shoulders getting a little tighter. The massage getting harder.

“The Black Box. From the train. It should be here on my desk, but- ow.” Lyf shrugged his hands off of them, turning in their chair to look up at Razler. He seemed… different for a moment. “It… should be right here, but it's not.”

Razler put his hands right back on Lyf's shoulders, turning them back to the monitor. “The train? What are you talking about?” He laughed, hands getting closer to their neck. “You really have been working too hard. You're starting to confuse reality with your dreams, my friend.”

‘Lyf,’ a voice whispered and Lyf looked around. ‘Lyf, don't be tricked. Focus.’

A hand was on Lyf's neck and they looked up, staring at Razler. No, it wasn't Razler. He was changing. His hand wrapped around Lyf’s throat tightly. They gasped softly, eyes widening.

Everything came back to them.

“Let go,” Lyf said, grabbing his hand and pulling at it. “Let go!”

"You realized this was fake much quicker than I anticipated." The hand became cold. Long. Like a tendril... it was exactly that. "You're not afraid anymore."

Lyf gritted their teeth. "I've seen everything you have to offer. What more can you show me? Why should I be afraid?"

Yog-Sothoth tightened his hold, his tendril stroking their cheek. "You think this is everything? Hardly." He laughed and his tendril slide across their lips, causing them to grimace and try to pull away, but Yog-Sothoth wrapped it tightly along their mouth to keep them from speaking.

Lyf squeezed their eyes closed, cursing Yog-Sothoth. They were having a hard time breathing. Their head was forced back, tendril sliding over their body. Restricting their arms and legs and- they needed to act. They needed to do something or they'd be consumed by him. They couldn't let that happen. They needed to get home.

'Lyf!' That voice came back. They recognized it. They knew who it was. 'Lyf, wake up!"

Not yet.

Lyf opened their mouth and bit. They bit down on that tendril and heard Yog-Sothoth's cry of pain as blood filled their mouth and covered their face. Lyf tore off a piece of his flesh and was freed as Yog-Sothoth let go with a cry of pain. Lyf took the opportunity to get up, spitting the piece of flesh out and turned to face him. There was no fear. There was only anger.

"You are dying today, Yog-Sothoth!" Lyf yelled, rushing at him.

A portal opened right as Lyf got to him and they were unable to stop themself from running through it. They stumbled and fell on to the tracks.

The Bifrost...

Lyf cursed and got on their feet. Yog-Sothoth was right behind them and shoved them back to the ground, his form changing, shifting. Bones cracked and broke as Razler's form was torn away, hot blood splattering across the tracks and over Lyf. Yog-Sothoth's many eyes stared at them, anger and distain clear them. One tendril shot out and pierced Lyf's chest.

"I've grown tired of your existence. I'm going to kill you, Lyfrassir." His tendril grasped around their heart and squeezed, reveling in the sound of their screams.

"Your sacrifice will be remembered for generations. Be happy. Your death will start the cleansing of this world."

"No!" Lyf yelled, gasping in pain, grasping the tendril.

'Lyf,' a new voice echoed in their brain. 'What's in your hand?'

Their hand? Their... the gripped the knife Sinclair gave them long ago and stabbed the tendril in their chest, letting out a cry of anger.

Yog-Sothoth howled in anguish, but couldn't pull away fast enough. Lyf cut the tendril clean off. "Wake me up!" They called out, eyes widened as Yog-Sothoth thrashed about. "Marius!"

------

Lyf shot up in bed, gasping and putting a hand over their chest, where dried blood stuck to their shirt.

"Lyf!" Marius threw himself at them, hugging them tight. "Cosmos, what happened?! I tried waking you, but you- and you started to bleed and scream and-"

"It's okay," Lyf said, panting. "It's okay... we can hurt him. He bleeds and he feels pain. Which means he can die."

Marius pulled back, staring at Lyf with worry. "But... how?"

Lyf was silent for a moment, thinking. "I need to talk to Raphaella."

[snugglebug-92]

I want Cole mcward with fluff prompts 5, 10, and 9

5. I thought you couldn't stand me.

9. Shut up and kiss me.

10. You're wearing my shirt.

You loved your job at Ohio State. You liked taking pictures and you had a passion for photography. You also however had a disliking for Cole. It was mainly because he didn't really like you. You thought he was attractive you guys had even gone on a date your freshman year but after winter break everything changed. Now you were well into your sophomore year and you stopped letting him bother you.

As Scooter skates over to where you are standing as you get iced by Cole. You shiver as your body is soaked by the ice melting on your skin.

"Go change into my extra shirt," Scooter says as you walk to the locker room. You grab the first shirt you see in Scooter's stall and slip your sweatshirt off replacing it with the t-shirt. You grab your media jacket and slip it on before heading back out. You take pictures of the boys as they skate around and upload them to your computer as coach talks to the boys. They all file off the ice except Cole. He skates 15 laps before coming off the ice.

"Sorry about him. I made him do laps to make up for it," Coach says before going to his office. By the time Cole is done in the shower, the locker room is empty. He walks to his stall in just a towel and puts his shorts on before coming into your little office.

"You're wearing my shirt," he says looking at you.

"No I'm not this is Scooter's, shit," you sigh as you go to slip it off. You throw it at Cole and walk into the locker room grabbing Scooter's shirt before slipping it over your head. Cole slips the shirt on and leaves you alone to edit the photos.

The next day at practice Cole leaves you alone which is slightly surprising. Maybe the 15 laps drilled some sense into him. As you are walking back towards your office he stops you and pulls you aside.

"I need your help," he sighs.

"And I thought you couldn't stand me," you laugh continuing to walk to your office. Cole follows after you and sits down in the other chair by your desk.

"Please," he begs.

"Cole we hate each other," you shake your head.

"Please,"

"No,"

"Please Y/N."

"What McWard," you snap. He flinches clearly taken aback and looks at you with your response.

"I don't hate you for starters and I need film," he says running a hand through his hair.

"I already sent film to Vancouver and a few other teams that we're interested in you. I don't hate you and I want you to succeed in your career," you respond.

"How did you?"

"BCC means blind carbon copy. I got the same email you did and sent the film," you smile.

"God I could kiss you right now," Cole says spinning around in the chair.

"Do it," you challenge.

"What?" he questions.

"Shut up and kiss me," you smirk and you can barely breathe before his lips are on yours. You tangle your hands in his hair as he picks you up and places you on the edge of your desk. The two of you make out while door David walks to the door seeing why the two of you got so quiet all of a sudden hoping you guys didn't kill each other. His eyes go wide as he sees Cole slip his tongue into your mouth and he shuts the door.

"So do we need a new photographer or a new defenseman?" Jake laughs wrapping his arm around the boy.

"Neither. They were being civil for once," David shrugs before leaving the boys to their own devices.

[early20sfailingplenty]

I was genuinely brave today and I wanna tell the Sinclairs about it but I can't so I'm telling all of you🥹🥹🥹

Okay so yesterday when I was grocery shopping, my work senior texted me to ask if I wanted to drop one of my shifts so I would have more time for uni. That WOULD help me out BUT financially I cannot afford to lose £2-300 a month. It was just sprung on me and instead of making a snap decision I asked if I could have time to think on it and promised to tell her my decision tomorrow (today). So I think on it, I got upset and angry (still haven't quite figured out yet why I got defensive but I think it's because the way she asked me, made me feel like she was saying I'm incapable of working four days a week and doing a degree. That's NOT what she was saying, but that was my snap emotional response. Obviously I didn't act on it and just asked her for thinking time). I do all my numbers once I'm home and yes, I canNOT afford to lose that money but yes it would help me academically. So time or money, which is it?? I picked money, I had to. Mum agreed, dad disapproved last night but this morning told me he agreed with me. So, fine, it's decided. So then today, I go into work, and half hour before the end of my shift, my work senior comes up to me and says, are you ready? I say yes, we find a quiet room.

HERE'S WHERE I WAS BRAVE.

Okay so she asked me again if I wanted to drop a shift to make uni easy on me and I said no thank you, financially I can't afford it but also I just REALLY love my job and I wanna stay on my four days a week. I didn't hesitate, and I didn't hold back. I was truthful and honest and I was as polite as possible given how angry I was yesterday. She then said that she loves having me on her team and doesn't want me to lose any hours either but she's just thinking about me and my mental health because she doesn't want to find out that I've been awake for 32 hours between work and uni EVER again because I'm one of her girls and if that's happening then she isn't doing her job to take care of us properly. So then I pulled out my notebook and showed her what needs to be revised between now and October and what this year will be like (see below pictures. This is the PREP WORK alongside learning an entire computer software programme we will use regularly AND six online labs to complete).

And she sat and thought for a moment because I refuse to compromise on my job not only because I'm stubborn but also because I just genuinely can't afford losing that kinda money and then she asked for all of my assignment deadline dates, all my lecture dates, etc etc and I gave them to her (I don't have lecture dates or group project dates yet because I get them in mid September) and she wrote them in her diary and said that she's gonna make sure that I have at least two days off in a row for all of those weeks so I can fully concentrate on my assignments and she asked that when I get the other info, that I give them to her so she can pencil me in as needing a day off. She also said that when I get my textbooks and the platform opens up, to bring my laptop into work and she's gonna sit down with me and work out a day by day plan for the first week and then I can copy that for all the other weeks so that I have time for my job AND uni AND free time without sacrificing one or the other.

I'm so so happy, I was expecting to be forced to give up one shift a week and I expected to be forced into what I didn't want but she listened and was so lovely and accommodating and good to me.😭😭😭 AND THEN SHE DROVE ME HOME BECAUSE MY KNEE STILL ISN'T FULLY HEALED BUT IT ALMOST IS😭😭😭😭😭honestly she was so kind it genuinely stunned me and I feel like I'm waiting for the shoe to drop...

And I just.... Proud Sinclairs because I'm getting braver and more vocal and confident???? Please have I earned Bo's smirk and Vincent's approving "mmf" and Lester's sunshine smile???😭😭😭😭

I'm getting so much braver now and saying no more often and pushing back and finding the spine my abusers took from me almost a decade ago. I'm doing it I'm doing itttt and now I just gotta keep good on my promise and make it work and not lose myself in the process...

[sadwinning]

Devlog 1 (1/25/24): Why This Is Pointless

In my intro post, I mentioned how it would be much easier to map the 12 chromatic notes of Western music to the 3 action buttons and 8 directions of Undertale, and how I won't be doing that for purely aesthetic reasons. I also want to mention why everything I'm doing to my violin is completely stupid.

If you want to follow in my footsteps, you shouldn't do it the way I'm doing it. You probably can't.

My violin is a Yamaha EV-205 five-string electric from the late aughts/early 10's. I recently learned that this violin is no longer in production, so there's no way your standard Joe Schmoe can pick up this tutorial, nor would they want to if they were in the market for an electric violin, because they already sell electric violins that are MIDI controller enabled. You should buy that and follow the software specs of CZR drums and their MIDI-to-controller software partner/whatever. I simply do not want to spend more money on an electric violin when I already have one with the right hardware (individual pickups for each of the five strings). So I will be voiding the warranty that likely no longer exists and busting open my violin to see what I can patch together.

When I busted this component (pictured above) open I immediately found a not-so-complex PCB where I could locate each of the individual string inputs. I have yet to see whether those ports will give me the inputs I need - golly, I have yet to learn how to solder enough to access those ports!! - but the visibility gives me hope. it doesn't look hard, especially for someone who has been low-key interested in soldering for like 15 years (since my Pokemon Gold copy's battery died and I learned the ways to replace it) but I can't say I know exactly what data flows through that part of the circuit and how easy it would be to extract and manipulate.

I've done a lot of research into what I would need to take analog audio signal(s) and transform them into MIDI or some other binary/digital data. The first thing I found was an Arduino library, so I knew this wouldn't be hard. I only have one Arduino (knock-off) and I didn't like the idea of buying four more (one for each string) to get the MIDI values when I would probably be connected to a computer the whole time no matter what.

This led me to where I'm sitting pretty right now, at a Python library (Python being my favorite language) that uses its GitHub .md file to explain why Markov chains are important. Reader, do you know how much I love Markov chains? Did you know that in my sophomore year of college I created a musical AI by programming Markov chains in Python??? How is it that all of my interests loop in upon each other in the same way that my first and only job out of college involved natural language processing in Python just like my senior project where I did language analysis on okcupid profiles???? Is time in fact a flat circle? I don't have time to think about this because I want to program violin to play undertale pleas

Where I'll be starting is with this library and with monophonic input (one note at a time rather than interpreting multiple notes at once e.g. multiple strings played simultaneously) to make a controller of any kind work. But I have a lot of reading to do to see how Markov chains are involved. With it being both Python and linear algebra, I have the capacity to adjust the code to do whatever I want it to do. Given this insane opportunity I can't not do all the research possible to finetune things to my precise desires. If I were satisfied with "good enough", I would be playing monophonic input the whole way through. Let's go insane, boys.

[marvel-and-chicago-fan]

Happy Meals And Hotels

Matildas age: 4

Pretty small one, this is one of my favorite ones ive written, although it dosent stand where i want it and the writting is off i still like it

Jays pov

Today, Me, Matilda and Will are heading up to our cabin for winter break. Currently I'm going to pick up matilda earlier from school than we had originally planned. The forecast says for heavy snow, even though me and Will can drive through the snow, we decided that we didn't want to go through it with Matilda in the car because of how young she is. 

I walk up to the receptionist so I can check Matilda out.

“Mr. Halstead, Will dropped off Matilda 2 hours ago. Your usual pick up times not for another 3 hours” She said while typing on her computer

“Yeah, I was supposed to pick her up in an hour but with the forecast we wanted to get ahead of the storm so we can head up to the cabin for the holidays.” I replied

“Ah, I see. I’ll call Mrs. Norris to bring her up.” She says with a smile while picking up the phone

“Hi, This is Cora from the front desk. Do you think you can send one of your assistants down to bring up Matilda Halstead? She's getting checked out for the day.”

She puts down the phone and looks back at me “She’ll be down in a minute.”

“Thank you so much” I say with a smile

I go to sit down while I wait for Matilda. I hear a little voice that I love to hear every single day. “JJ, I missed you!” She says while she runs up to hug me

“I missed you too Mattie bug” 

“Why are you picking me up early, JJ?” She looks up to me

“Me and will have a huge surprise for you”

“Really?”

“Really, So let's hurry up and get in the car

I buckle Matilda in her carseat and start driving to wills

***

Wills pov

“Hey will, the snow is coming down really hard and I don't think we should keep going. There's a hotel down the road” He says

“Yeah i was about to call you to say the same thing, Matties asleep and i can she thats shes uncomfortable in the car seat.” I say adjust my mirror so i can see Mattie better

“Ok, I'll call ahead to see if they have any available rooms. Make sure you get all your stuff because im not sharing any of my stuff with you” 

“Whatever will, keep your eyes on the road” He jokes

“Yeah yeah bye, jay”

“Bye will”

I pull up at the hotel Jay sent me and I call them. “Hi, do you have any rooms available for 3 people?”

“Yes but we don't have any regular rooms available, We only have suites available”  The man said

“That's fine, can you hold that room for Will Halstead, I’ll pay when we get to the front desk.” I tell the man

“Sure, The room will be on hold for two hours and then it will be up for whoever wants it”

“Thank you” I click the hang up button

Just then Mattie wakes up

“Willy, are we there yet?” She tiredly 

“No Mattie were gonna stop at a hotel for the night”

“but i wanted to play with my toys at the house” She complains

“You have some toys in your bag, you can play with those in the hotel room. I promise to buy you a new toy when we get back home.”

“Ok”

We sit in silence while pulling up to the hotel then she breaks the silence “Willy i'm hungry”

“Did you finish all your snacks?” I question how a 4 year old can eat that many snacks in a few hours.

“No JJ ate some of them and then dey fell on the ground when he put me in my chair” 

“We're gonna have some words with Jay on how he shouldn't eat your snacks aren't we?” I chuckle

“Of course willy” She laughs

“And its they not dey Mattie” I correct her

“They?” 

“Good job”

***

jays pov

“Jay shes 4 you can’t just not feed her” will sighs

“Well i'm not just gonna run out to mcdonalds to get her some food”

“Please JJ I'm really really hungry and I want a happy meal.” She gives me that puppy dog face

I finally cave in because who can't say no to that face. “Fine, Will you want the usual?”

“Sure, i just want a coke instead of a sprite this time” He responds

“Gottach, I’ll be back in like 35ish minutes”

***

Gosh, it's so cold. If I drop this food now Matildas going to have a tantrum at one in the morning and will give me that look when he wakes up in the morning because he got no sleep because a toddler cried all night. 

I walk into the hotel to see people begging for rooms and others yelling because they prioritize families with young children. If I need to intervene then I will but for now I don't need everyone knowing that there's a detective here with a small child.

As the elevator closes I can hear a lady arguing that I was allowed to go through and she wasn't.

***

Jays pov

“Alright, i got her an extra large fries that she can snack on and eat with her food so she doesn't eat ours.” I Say while taking out the food from the bag “I got the container that the pancakes come in so she can put her food on a plate.”

“Wait- where is mattie?: I look around the room for her nowhere to be seen

“She's in the closet” Will says as he points to the door

“Why”

“She got mad because i left the ipad charger in the car when her ipad died, then when she asked for my work computer i said for her to wait and let me set it up. She had a tantrum about wanting it now then ran into the closet.”

“She’ll get over it, she's probably just cranky.  She's been in the car seat for 10 hours and she hasn't eaten anything. Oh and can you grab a mug a and wash it in the sink so i can heat up some milk”

***

“Thank you for the food JJ.” I smiled

“Your welcome mattie.” He said with smile

“Ok off the bed, it's almost 2 in the morning and we’ll leave at 12 if possible.” Will said, cleaning up all the food that I threw on the floor.

***

“Is she finally asleep?” jay asked me

“Yep, I looked at the weather and it looks like we’ll be here for another day or two. So i’ll drive down to the store that a couple blocks from here and get some stuff”

“Alright, night will” he mumbled

“Night jay” I said switching the lights off

Now that ive read it i kinda hate it compared to my new story :l

[squirrelno2]

Jesse Lives AU, pt 5

(learned my lesson, wrote this on Google docs even though I hate it. This experience of course will still not get me to take my computer in to the repair shop because executive dysfunction is Real)

For real this time, Jesse and Jale get the hell away from the Venator wreck, and it's the last time for a while I milk the image of the clone graves for angst. In this series anyway.

Previous: 1, 2, 3, 4

Next

"I still need that monitor," Jale said. Jesse once again wondered why he'd gone along with the crazy theelin.

"You can't reach it," he pointed out, not sure why he was bothering.

"It's grab that or go raid the medbay," Jale said. Jesse had been avoiding medical since Kix disappeared, and he certainly wasn't going to go in there now with the bodies of vode Maul had attacked lying there, dead in the midst of recovery. He was having a hard enough time not thinking things like "Kix would have saved them" as it was.

"Fine. Just… stay there for a second. Don't do anything stupid, if you can manage it."

He knelt to untie the rope from around the walkway, then put it around Jale's waist. He pulled it tight with more effort than he needed, and ended up tugging Jale closer. Jesse stepped back; he was not at all struck by the fact that Jale's eyes were brown when the rest of them was so brightly colored.

"Keep one hand on that," he commanded. Jale almost immediately ignored him as they turned back to the monitor they wanted, leaning out once more with one hand on the equipment to steady it as they worked. Jesse gritted his teeth and wrapped the rope around his hands another time, bracing himself for Jale's next dumb move.

Amazingly, the scavenger managed to finish the job this time, and they threw themself backwards with the monitor clutched to their chest. The walkway shuddered under them. Jesse, having no desire to die for this bottom-feeder, tugged Jale up.

"Let's go before your bullshit brings the whole place down." He got to work untying the rope once more, then resecured it to the walkway.

The descent was more painful than Jesse wanted to admit. His head was pounding, and all the activity was reminding him just how many cuts and bruises he'd picked up in the crash. Normally, he'd already have gotten looked at by a medic. Even with Kix gone Jesse couldn't bring himself to ignore his brother's advice, and the medics in the 332nd were willing to come to him instead of forcing him into the medbay. They all remembered Kix, too.

But now Jesse was really, fully alone, and when he staggered upon reaching the floor he realised again what that meant.

Rather than dwell, he looked at Jale.

"Tell me that's the last of it."

For a second, he thought the scavenger would protest. Then, strangely, Jale nodded.

"We can go," they said.

The wind had picked up. As they reached the place where Jale left the speeder, Jesse heard a rattling - helmets knocking against the sticks on which they were mounted. He lifted his gaze to the sky and tried not to listen.

Jale made him sit in front, though they were also emphatic about Jesse not being the one to drive.

"Can you even see over my head?"

"Your bloody head? Yes. Good thing you don't have hair. If you wanna drive, stand up and walk in a straight line for me."

Jesse had thought his unsteadiness had gone unnoticed. He scowled as Jale finished securing the fuel to the speeder and sat down behind him.

"Was there anything else you needed?" Jale asked awkwardly. Jesse tensed.

Clones didn't have much. Armour, blasters, whatever contraband they picked up over the years. Jesse's small collection of the latter had been passed over to Kix when he became an ARC trooper, and subsequently disappeared with Kix. The blasters were technically the property of the Republic, which no longer existed and also had ordered Jesse to point them at his two Commanders for reasons he didn't understand.

As for his armour…

He turned to look at the place where his helmet was mounted. Jale turned, too, and sucked in a sharp breath that told Jesse they'd figured out what he was looking at.

"I'm good," he said. He passed Jale the helmet he'd borrowed. "Let's go."

[xwonderfuldeath]

.o| It's a small world : XVIII |o.

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

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« - When I got old enough to understand what I wanted out of life, my parents didn't fully understand why men would be what I wanted in a sexual life partner, and so they simply kicked me out. »  

Alone, lost, without a single penny in my pocket, I had to wander from street to street, house to house, and season to season. I was lost, broken, I didn't fully understand what was happening to me, I wanted to go home, but I couldn't. So I had to do what I had to do. So I had to do what anyone would do to survive. Stealing, I did petty shoplifting, jewelry, phones, computers. Whatever passers-by left lying around ended up in the only thing that really belonged to me, my school bag. I'd sell it back for a small price, enough to eat a bit, take showers, get new clothes. It was the hardest year of my life, and very often I thought of death coming for me, clutching at my throat. And I refused to give up, my petty thefts turned into a full-time job, I stole everything I could, going after very rich men. And when I met them, I still don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Not everything is black and white after all. 

« - Hey kid, what you got there? 

- Nothing mister, I don't know what you're talking about.

- The kid's messing with me, I saw you took something out of my buddy's jacket. »  

Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok entered my life like a hurricane, I'd made a mistake, I hadn't seen Hoseok behind my back, and I felt safe. I had stolen Yoongi's wallet without thinking, seeing only the profit of the money that was sure to fill it. But they didn't take it that way, and I found myself dragged along behind them to join their bosses, wanting to know what could obviously be done with a simple thief like me. Kim Namjoon was someone who scared the hell out of me at the time, terrifyingly cold and self-assured. His eyes pierced my soul and I knew that my life had just taken a turn, like a hurricane in the rainy season, I had understood why my life had been hell up to now. 

« - What took you so long? Who's this guy? 

- A kid who thought it was funny to steal from Yoongi. 

- Did he see something wrong? 

- Maybe we should get rid of him? »   

The coldness of the handgun against my temple had frozen me, death was back taunting me, dancing before my eyes, taking the form of three men staring at me like prey, I didn't know where my courage to speak had come from. I didn't beg for my life, I didn't have the means, but I didn't want everything to end as easily as a simple bullet between my eyes. 

« - Wait! I can be useful to you! »   

Namjoon's hand rose, and the spying eyes became questioning, for several short seconds, seeming to be several eternities blending together, I took deep breaths, before beginning my plea, hoping to convince them to let me live and why not join their company. I saw in them the right to take back my life, get off the streets and resume a normal sixteen-year-old life. 

« - We're listening. How can you help us? 

- I'm good at stealing. Or even getting people to believe in me. Let me help you, redeem myself. Give me something to show I'm useful, and you won't regret it. »   

There was silence again, as everyone seemed to be weighing up the pros, and a new face appeared with a petty laugh. Kim Seokjin had arrived like a rose petal, his eyes shining with mischief and laughter, he applauded without anyone quite understanding why, before sitting down on the desk, and despite Namjoon's presence, even he lowered his gaze to face the oldest of the bunch. 

« - You're really going to shoot a kid because Yoongi doesn't know how to be careful? He managed to pick the pocket of one of our own. If Hoseok hadn't been there, would you have stopped him? 

- But Jin...

- We'll keep him. I don't want to know Namjoonie. He looks lost, he needs help. Not a bullet. Me alive, no gun's gonna do anything to him. Am I clear? »   

No need for words, everyone was silent, but approved. I was free again, without really being free. But at least I had a roof over my head, something to eat, and I even went back to school, fully financed by their group of thugs. All of them had had, at some point, something that had brought them down to earth: Yoongi's parents had died, Hoseok had had to flee violence, Namjoon and Seokjin were wanted criminals for their eating habits, forced by their respective parents. No one ever asked questions, learning from each other's scars without having to speak up, it was more a matter of guessing than anything else anyway, some things never deceived. Life went on like this for two long years, as the group grew in size and power, shaking the city to its core. This put us in the spotlight of bigger, stronger, bigger bands. Heisukei Damarro's group came upon us one spring, finding our base with disconcerting ease. 

« - Here are the little larvae who are taking over my strip. Do you know how much you've cost me in two years? Your miserable little lives won't even be enough to make you pay back a tenth. 

- Are we responsible for your decline, when you leave your business in ruins? 

- Abandoned? I've had some... problems, sure. But abandoned? »   

To be honest, I hated Damarro, full of himself, sure of himself, it seemed like every time he talked to someone, he always thought he was more important than they were. But he was stronger, more present, so Namjoon had no choice but to accept his proposal: work for an abject man like him or die. I would have chosen death, if I'd had the choice. But it was the group or no one, so I took my place in the great Heisuke Damarro's hierarchy, and if we were thugs, he was a mixture of all that was worst in the human species. A monster in a suit, who didn't hesitate for a second to test children, using them as tools, mere toys for his terrible purpose. His companion was sterile, and he would tell us so whenever he had the chance, but he needed a perfect child, something of his own blood. So he began to experiment, more and more despicable. Harder and harder. And Kiyeon came into my life. I held him there, a baby, a tiny little thing in my arms, his big black eyes looking at me, his adorable little cheeks and his smile. It was all too much for me, and we fled with the boys, wanting to get out of this hell, and save this child doomed to death by his genetics. 

« - We had gained power thanks to Heisukei, so it wasn't long before we made a powerful name for ourselves and earned enough to live more than humbly. »   

Silence reverberated in the large bedroom. Taehyung had followed what Jungkook had asked of him, he hadn't spoken, hadn't cut sentences, letting the man express himself. He'd stopped breathing, how could someone like him have such a terrible, lopsided life. Jungkook hadn't cried, but he'd felt tears welling up in his eyes, flowing in a flood of emotions that had overwhelmed him. With one hand against his mouth, he tried not to let the sadness shake him until it shook his soul, and the younger man couldn't help but come to comfort him. 

« - I'm sorry... If I'd known I...

- Shh, it's nothing. I didn't tell you all this to make you feel bad, or to make you feel sorry for me. I just want you to understand what it means to be with Jeon Jungkook. 

- And I accept that. I want to be with you through the bad times, as well as the good. But I don't want lies, I only want the truth. Jungkook, I couldn't bear my life without you. But I also couldn't bear it if you lied to me again. »   

A slight smile passes Jungkook's lips, and he caresses the moist cheeks of the man he loves, coming to embrace him in a kiss first tender, then increasingly hot, torrid. Light moans pass Taehyung's lips, and he lets himself lie back in bed, before hearing the little mouth noise, drawing a growl of frustration from Jungkook, and a genuine laugh from Taehyung. 

« - Are you playing leapfrog? Can I join you? Does this mean I've got a new daddy?! 

- Kiyeon... Come if you like. »   

[xtrablak674]

[Originally published in Fashion Fag Magazine Vol 1 No 4 November-December Issue 1995 based on a story I wrote in college.]

Man O’ Da House

A Story About My Mother’s Goin’ Home

Mommy!

Mommy?

Mommy.

Where are you? I can't see you. Where did you go? Why is it so dark? Mommy!! Why did you leave me Mommy? Mommy!!!

I sit and wake up in a cold sweat and look over toward the window. The sun is glaring through the metallic Venetian lines, leaving parallel lines of sunlight on the wall. I soon forget what I was dreaming about and my sense of foreboding. As if in suspended animation the air in the room is deathly still. I break the serenity, get up, lean over and turn on the idiot box. I Dream of Jeannie is on, so that means its about six or six-thirty in the morning.

I lie back down and contemplate how I'm gonna approach Mom about the job with the Daily News delivering papers. Mrs. Church my baby sitter said I could get the job if Mom agreed. My birthday is five days away and I am gonna be eleven. As Mom always says 'I am da man o' da house', and she needs help making ends meat. I don't want to have to ask her for money all the time; I hate doing that.

I leave the placidity of my bedroom and walk into the living room to confront Mom. I stop at the threshold and gaze into the room; something is different it mirrors my room with its dead calm. The ever constant old color TV breaks the tranquility, and yet it doesn't it seems to blend into the background and take the form of a voyeur.

I break the static and cross to the head of the couch where Mommy rests. She looks uncomfortable yet at peace, with one leg propped up on the back of the couch, clad in bra and panties, one eye partially open but not enough for her to be awake. This is a regular sleeping position for her.

"Mrs. Church says I could get a job wit' the Daily News if you say it's OK I think I should get it, besides I'm turning eleven and Mrs. Church says I can. So what do you say?"

I look down into her face after my speech awaiting a response.

Silence.

"Well?"

Silence.

"Then forget you then. But Mrs. Church says I can!"

I suck my teeth and storm out of the room. How could she ignore me? Just who does she think she is? Well Mrs. Church says I can have the job. Besides I'm at Mrs. Church's house more then I'm here.

Realization.

Like a wave washing over a beached fish a thought comes to me. What if she's playing dead? A game in recent years she played with my younger brothers and me. I remember how the last time we played it, she woke from her feigned state of eternal rest after I had jokingly picked up the phone and pretended to call the police. My brother Monte didn't like the game and always grew very upset when ever she played it the frequency seeming greater over the last few months. 

I liked it because I could prove to her that I knew how to keep a level head in a dangerous or erratic situation the same way I did when my youngest brother Choan cut open his knee o the bone, and I carried him to this local convenience store to call for help. Blood was gushing all over the place and I kept a cool head, applying pressure to the wound and barking orders to the frazzled attendant of the store. I knew that if she died and we were alone I would keep the situation under control because I was da man o' da house.

Wise to her scheme I walked slowly back into the living room to prove myself more clever. The television blaring like an entity from the Poltergeist movie seemed to prod me on. I stopped at the head of the couch and reached down and touched her forehead.

It is cold.

Are people supposed to be cold when they're asleep? My mind began to race to find an answer to this anomaly. Bad information was put into the program and the computer was malfunctioning. Well your body shuts down at night to conserve energy and repair itself, its logical that it would reduce it's temperature to conserve energy.

I hurry down the hallway to test my new theorem on my brothers. Their shared bedroom is at the back of the apartment the room is chilly but filled with a glow of energy that reminds me of the way you feel after a long hot bath. Monte is closest to the door.

I reach to touch his forehead.

It's warm.

Something isn't right I feel the room began to spin around me, I grab the door frame to steady myself and shake my head to regain focus. Monte is my junior but I think he might be able to help me assess the situation a bit better and shed some light on my confusion.

I shake him.

"Monte I think something is wrong. I felt Mommy's head and it feels cold. Are people cold when they're asleep?"

Before I can finish trying to explain he rushes down the hallway in a frenzy his footsteps sound like a bell tolling in my head as I follow him and find him at the couch shaking Mom and screaming.

"Mom wake up! Mommies wake up! Mom!!"

I am surprisingly calm as I look at him wondering why he's freaking out so. I am feeling a little dizzy, and thinking is getting hard its like trying to run through a pool when the water is above your head. I decide we need an adult intervention and I call Mrs. Church to ask her what to do.

"Hello this is Trevor. Can I speak to Mrs. Church?"

"Hi Trevor it's Mrs. Church. What's the matter?"

"Mrs. Church something is wrong. Mom's forehead feels cold, really cold and she doesn't want to wake up."

I look over at Monte he is crying and holding Mom's hand.

"Listen Trevor calm down and call 911. Then after you call them call me back and let me know what they say"

I am calm, why did she say that?

"OK I'll call you back."

I hang up and look up Chaon is rubbing his eyes and making his way down the hallway.

"Chaon go and sit with Monte and watch TV"

He shuffles oblivious to the foot of the couch between Mom's feet. It's his usual sitting position. Everything is fine here. He groggily sits and stare into the void of the TV not for one moment seeming to acknowledge Monte's visible distress or my rising since of uneasiness.

I pick up the phone and dial 911.

The room seems as if its getting darker even though its mid morning.

"911 Emergency Services. How may I help you?"

"HimynameisTrevorBrownandIthinkthereissomethingthematterwithmymother"

"Trevor. Trevor, calm down and tell me what's the matter."

Why do people keep saying that I am calm.

Breathe. Exhale.

"My mother's head feels really cold... really cold and she won't wake up."

"Trevor slow down and give me your address and I'll send an ambulance over right away OK?"

"MYNAMEISTREVORBROWNILIVEAT1101BROWNSTREETPEEKSKILLNEWYORKAPARTMENT5GZIPCODE10566"

"Thank you Trevor, help is on the way you will be fine"

I didn't feel fine.

The air in the room felt like orange marmalade thick and heavy I felt as if it was getting harder to catch my breath and think. 

I call Mrs. Church gives her an update and she tells me she is going to send her son Marvin over to pick us up and to get dressed. I tell Monte and Chaon to go get dressed. When Monte and Chaon  come back we all sit on the couch and watch Tom & Jerry. It is very hard to focus on the cartoon antics, my mind races over the mornings events wondering if there is something I should have done differently. I look over at Monte's tear streak face and wish I could be as free as him to let go but I don't have that luxury I am da man o' da house and I have got to be strong and keep the situation under control.

I sit quietly dry eyed and wait.

After what seems like a lifetime the intercom rings, I jump up and answer it. It's Marvin and the paramedics. I buzz them in and mindlessly sit back down. I look into Mom's face making a mental note to never forget the expression that is written across it. No more pain of chemotherapy and losing her left breast and hair, or the men in her life hurting her, or even the Cinderella-like betrayal of her family. No more worrying about how she was going to feed us, clothe us, no more rent, no more work for her grey streaked hair. The calmness on her face is like a serene lake in the mountains untouched by mortal hands.

A knock on the door interrupts my inflection. I drift to the door and open it. The paramedics dash through the door and over to the couch.

Too late.

Marvin follows the room is taken over by loud commands and noisy machinery . Marvin tells us to go down to the car out back and wait for him. I try to see what they are doing to Mom but I am pushed out along with my brothers. Wait don't they know I am da man o' da house? I should be right there besides my mother seeing what is going on. But in the rush of everything and the reality that I am just a child I am ignored and so I join my brothers in Marvin's yellow car.

This was the last time I saw my mother.

Within the next few days of which I have little to no recollection I was eventually shuffled off to the Bronx to live with my paternal grandparents and my brothers off to live with my Cousin Margaret. What about a funeral or memorial you ask? They said we were too young to go to a funeral that we would not have understood or know how to behave.

TOO YOUNG to mourn your mother's death the woman who had carried you for nine months in her belly, breast fed you at her teat, the woman you had lived your entire life with? Too young to say good bye to someone who fed clothed and nurtured you, who defended you when people were out to hurt or mislead you? Too young indeed!

To this day I do not know anything about the disposition of my mother's remains. I heard she was cremated and buried, but I don't know cause of death. Some say it was cancer, some say it wasn't whose to believe. No one has answers to my questions when I ask them. I know that some day I will find her and let her know her man o' da house is doing alright.

[Photos by Brown Estate]

[the-firebird69]

There's a whole bunch of different colleges in California this is at a famous One most of them are famous but this is a famous campus. It's because my husband used to go there and it's in LA and it's near the downtown area where he works and that was more or less koreatown at the time I need to go near it to the mall to eat and take a break from a Liam place it was very lame. But it's a job and he went over it and went to the campus once and it was University of California Los Angeles he's been there before because he visited his brother I didn't realize how close he was to it and walked around the whole campus with his brother we just looked at it a few times when he was there and he didn't like it. A lot of people don't like the place it's like here it's crazy people think they're right by being crazy. So he left the company and it was some bad terms and it's angry and he should be and they got excited about it they got excited about it and they shouldn't they're the ones who are doing it and they're all like bothering him for stuff the whole time and the commute was a disaster so you got another job but you guys were doing that to him a lot and you really need to pay you're so stupid people owe him tons of money too he's trying to take tons of stuff losers as well worth it it sucks losers you hardly noticed. Now we're going to take a ton of stuff and he sees it too you going up to Chicago and that area and it's still there and it's still plants and things like that I'll crammed in and you're moving stuff to LA a lot of it you're flying out and you're forcing it out and you're threatening my husband so we're going to start taking that stuff just threatening him for you you're going to lose it

Hera

A lot of you are deaf but it's in writing so you can read it over and over

Zues

I'm going to do this work and get it done and take their stuff and sitting there taunting us and they're fighting Mac over the hardware and parts and part hardware and all the machines and you can see the patterns of the ocean that goes east and sometimes West and sometimes it's full West of the California coast and we can imitate almost any of you and take it so stick it up your ass

Thor Freya

So sick of you and your dumb mouth bja. Recently we discovered something her son's system is working he has this idea and it's greatness and it is really nice to have you build stuff and he says it's Thor and Freya and he does it too but they actually spearheaded this movement and kind of going he's trying to do it and he's working on it and yeah he did start it and he kind of got lost in it and it's trying to run two or three of them and has nothing to write down on no desk no computer and we picked up a few door fraya pushed it through and Thor and really Hera picked it up and I don't know what happened but that kicked the whole thing off it was with Barbie and it became just an overnight sensation with that Corvette and now the Rolls-Royce and the other Corvette and then several other cars a few of them are Asian and people are painting their cars pink it's crazy right now we have millions of orders in for the Rolls-Royce and it's more than that but there's other people making them total number of orders is very huge but we don't want to say it it's a lot and granted we have chassis too and people are buying those and we're going to be sending them out shortly we are having a little difficulty where's the cone is not drinking but we still managed to ship them out because everyone else is and it's moving out shortly a huge loads of new cars too and new trucks are going to the lots all over the world and if they don't want in Florida that's fine that's not the case Mac is bringing them in and some others are bringing them in not a huge amount but they are and it's working tonight there's going to be a huge disturbance because people are seeing why they're bringing the vehicles and stuff let me find each other but it's normal. You have some issues here and we're going to help out with them they don't seem to be getting fixed in any way and we need them fixed

Olympus

We have a plan for the septic and it's going to work we just need to get it going it's kind of dangerous for him to be there while the work's going on and it says it you can leave for a half a day and pull it out and put a tank in and buried and that's no big deal we're doing it out back then we have to do it out front and it is dangerous I would rather have them out of there so people don't try and wreck the building and we know how to do that too it's not a big deal so we're going to head with the plan

Stan

It's about time old man everybody's giving us so much s***

Dan

Yeah and it makes sense and that's one reason why we're fighting you

Trump

Okay so I get it but still it's going to get done and it's a real pain in the ass this stupid stuff has to be moved out and people have to be able to poop and piss when a pain in the ass it's very gross too this dumb freaking system it says it's really the sand is the water gets up there if it jams a little and the sand goes down and hype a little and I know it is cuz I was pulling it out and I was showing him it won't take much to fix it when we have to do it temporarily I want to pay the ass it's every time it's a huge chore just to get someone to do it I'm kind of sick of this s***

Stan it's not funny but he's laughing like giddy cuz nobody wants to do it I'm going to take a s*** and piss it's horrible we have to do this