#but it’s such a tiny difference man….

[multiverse-sparkles]

old money, old soul

༄ you loved him in a different lifetime; and your soul yearns for him.

༄ modern aegon ii targaryen x reader

was it possible there was a lifetime where you'd loved so dearly; felt the tender brush of his hands on your skin as he touches upon you, basked in his reverent gaze, brimming with so much awe and wonder that you could almost taste it on your lips?

it wasn't the first time you'd woke with a start— clutching a hand to your chest as short, gasps of breath leaves you, a feeling of emptiness and hurt overwhelming all sense of reason as you mourn for the silver haired man in your dreams.

he was so beautiful yet so melancholy. a boy, barely a man in your earliest dreams, yet his eyes were devastating in it's sadness. oh, but he was all the same yours. you held him in your arms as he wept in his grievance of being unloved, of the circumstances which he was born into.. he would tell you his fears, and you would soothe him with the gentlest hand he's had all his life. you would tell him you love him dearly, and he would know you meant every word because you had the same heart.

you were his reprieve. his world kept in soltitude, free from the intrigues of the court and his family that were bent in taking everything good in his life. no crown, or titles, or coin could ever compare to you. you held his world in your tiny hands, and his entire being; every good that were left in him was in you.

in your little home, he was no prince. he talked of his interests with the outmost heart. he laughed freely, with his head thrown back, with a genuine and free spirit, without all the burdens of his mother's expectations and without the fear of being hunted down and chased for his claim. in your home, he was not unloved. he was adored, and praised. he was comforted and held like he deserved.

he loved you. passionately. with his whole heart. he uttered promises of his devotion to your skin, building you up in the most sinful way possible, until you were melting in his arms... he adored you so. aegon adored you so.

that ache in your chest festers like a untreated wound; oh aegon. your sweet love, who would beg for you to never leave him. to never part with him, mouth full of your name in his breathy, pleading gasps. only in this dream, his eyes were filled with nothing but tears, his devastation plain as a day as he held you in his shaking arms, crying out your promises to one another. refusing to believe you'd part from him.

as everything good in his life, they'd found you. those who wish to harm him were countless, but he cared little about anything to warrant a reaction so visceral, he declared himself king to avenge you.

the maiden in the forest.

he was unwilling. so unwilling that he refused to believe you'd never come back to him. so unwilling that he heaves, struggles to breath as he pressed his cheek into your pale face, undeterred by all the blood, "promise me we will never part." his voice was low, different from the many times before but altogether, the same. "tell me we would never part, my love. tell me." he begs.

"we would never part." you vow, cupping his cheek, your touch was fleeting, "i shall find you in every life time." you whisper, fingers curling around his silver strands with meager strength.

"i will have only you..."

you peel back the covers, padding your way into the bathroom. in your reflection, it was evident that you had woke crying, your eyes were swollen and red from the dreams. or were they memories? could you even differentiate from memories and your real life anymore? were you so... lonely that you'd taken into dreaming for a man who's devotion to you transcends lifetimes?

you were unsure. but you'd wandered into the kitchen, many times that month, staring blankly at nothing in particular, hoping the yearning leaves.

"are you sure you're okay?" the soft, worried voice came from behind you, and you looked back to see your dear friend in the dim light of the kitchen, looking incredibly worried. "are the dreams still bothering you?" helaena places a hand on your shoulder.

you shrug your shoulders, "they don't bother me, ena."

"yet you sit at our kitchen, depressed beyond reason everytime." she respond, playfully. "we need a new routine." helaena tuts.

"you're not about to drag me into your lavish summer home." you warn, glimpsing the mischievous light in her eyes. she'd often clamored for you to join her and her family's summers in a sunny villa somewhere in italy.

so you've heard there's never a dull moment, with several children from her father's marriages, and general family affairs. helaena was as mild mannered as they could come, but even she comes back from summers spent with the rest of her family smoking to ease some tension. you'd held her drunk ass up enough times to know her family spelled nothing but chaos.

"oh, i'm about to do exactly that." helaena nods, grabbing onto your arm with a grip that has your reeling.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀♡ . ˚◞ cop!miguel 𝓍 teacher!reader (part 4) .ᐟ

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛⠀ previous⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next ⠀❜

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who has the biggest smile on his face as he enters the department. the bakery visit replays in his mind. hasn’t stopped thinking about it.

he hasn’t stop thinking about you. still kind and caring as always but to see you outside of being a teacher. to see the real you. joining him and gabi to try out sweets. they were both happy campers to have you join them. how you and gabi bonded over the different types of sweets you tried. miguel never believed his heart would swoon to the fullest.

to see his daughter bonding with a woman, besides being her teacher, like a mother and daughter would be makes his heart swell of happiness. how caring and selfless you are. allowing gabi to try everything first. making sure she didn’t bump into people in line. laughing and babbling about how delicious the cupcakes were. seeing his little girl smiling so brightly, so happy makes miguel happy.

you made her happy and miguel is thankful for that. he’s forever glad you decided to tagged along.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who doesn’t notice the strange, surprises looks by his colleges. eyebrows raised, eyes wide, most jaws dropped.

to see the tall, slightly intimidating cop of the department smiling is a life changing moment.

“how did it go?”

the sudden aggressive pat on his shoulder makes miguel slightly jump in surprise.

“ay chingado, patrick. don’t do that.” miguel scowls, that smile now gone and replaced with a frown.

“ah come on, partner. how did it go with the lady?” patrick follows his colleague through the department. his hands gripping on his belt.

“i don’t like discussing personal affairs, pat.” miguel continues on walking, wanting to ignore this conversation. he’s a private man, point clear.

“stop being stubborn. it’s just a simple question.”

with a sigh, miguel stops walking and folds his arms over his chest. “it went great.” his lips twitch upward, a tiny smile as thoughts of you and that day infiltrate his mind again. “it went really great…”

miguel’s too busy daydreaming to notice the smug smirk on patrick’s face. “well, i’m glad it went really great to make you smile so wide it made everyone in the department freak out.” he chuckles.

that smile disappears again, the frown returns. “very funny.” miguel rolls his eyes.

patrick holds up his hand, chuckling. “just saying. it’s not an everyday thing to see you smiling.” he lowers his hands and place them back on his belt. “so, you’re really fond of this lady, huh?”

miguel averts his gaze, nodding. “i am.”

it’s the truth. he is truly fond of you.

“well, since she’s making you smile like a goof, she must be a great person.” patrick offers a brief smile.

“she is.” miguel admit truthfully. that smile creeping on his face once again.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who continues having the privilege to get off early and pick up gabriella from school again. another chance to see his little girl and to see you. another chance to talk to you more.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who couldn’t deny his little girl when she asks if she can play at the playground with the other kids for a few minutes. those big brown goggly eyes pleading were hard to resist.

it’s the perfect chance to talk you. he doesn’t see you out here so he assumes you’re in your classroom. there are yard duties watching the kids so gabi will be fine. miguel manages to find your classroom due to your name in big letters on the window.

standing at the doorway, a smile forms on his face once his eyes land on your figure. observing you clean up the room. picking over left markers that were on the floor. blissfully unaware of his presence.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who gently knocks on the door. his smile grows wider when you turn around in surprise. heart fluttering when your eyes meet his.

“need some help?” he asks, smiling.

“oh!” your brows raise in surprise but you immediately smile, pleased to see him again. your heart flutters too. “that would be nice, thank you.”

leaning off the door with that same smile still intact, miguel joins in to help you with cleaning up. he picks up abandoned markers, turns out to be sharpies, from the floor. he puts them back in the drawer of sharpies and tosses leftover scarps in the trash.

“thank you for helping with the clean up.” you say softly, offering a smile to show your appreciation.

“of course.” he matches your tone, smiling as well. “it must’ve been a fun project to do with all those sharpies.” miguel chuckles, folding his arms. heart fluttering at the sweet sound of your giggle.

“it’s never arts and crafts if there isn’t a mess. today we made tin foil art. students got to choose what they wanted to make and draw it with sharpie on the tin foil.” you show yours of a flower.

his eyes widen in surprise. “wow, that looks amazing.” his head tilts as he admires the artwork, impressed and mesmerized by your artistic ability.

“it’s one of my favorite art projects to do. they left their drawings on their desks since it was 5 minutes before the bell rang. they’ll be hanged on the wall as their artwork for the week.” you point at the empty pinboard containing slots for each student.

miguel follows your finger and looks at the pinboard. “that’s nice.” he looks back at you. “so each week they make an artwork and are hanged on that wall?”

you nod happily. “mhm, the whole week. do you want to see gabi’s? it’s very cute.”

“sure.” he softly smiles.

you two walk over to gabriella’s desk, which is located in the center of the third row. miguel’s heart melts when he sees gabi’s artwork. two bees flying above a pink flower. one big bee and one small bee, both with cute faces. it’s him and her.

“it’s us.” he chuckles wholeheartedly.

“one of the cutest drawings i’ve ever seen.” you smile, gazing at the colorful artwork. “gabi has amazing artists skills. she gets super into it and has lots of fun. a little artist in the making.”

“an incredible artist, yeah.” miguel smiles, admiring the drawing his little girl made. she’s always thinking about him, that makes his heart warm.

before more can be said or his eyes meet your own, someone walks by, interrupting you two.

“hey, have you— oh! sorry for interrupting.” elena, your fellow colleague and third grade teacher, steps foot into your classroom.

“no, no! it’s fine.” you shake your head.

her gaze is focused more on miguel, surprised to see a handsome in your classroom. then, her eyes narrow ever so slightly. gaze fixated between you two as if she’s analyzing you and miguel, so skeptically.

“it seems that you have company. i’ll leave you two be.” she sounds a bit suspicious as she leaves.

for some reason, you didn’t like her tone. it didn’t settled right in your bones. an uncomfortable feeling as if you were caught. your gaze shifts down towards the floor. a solemn look illustrated on your face.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who immediately noticed your changed demeanor and concern consumes his body.

“are you okay?” he reaches out a hand, hovering over your shoulder but never touching. internally debating if he should touch your or not.

you quickly snap out of your solemn phase and look up at him with a smile. “yeah, i’m fine. no worries.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who can tell it was a lie. seeing that solemn look on your angelic face makes his chest ache a little, an unsettling feeling. he’s still concerned but decided not to push further. the last thing he wants is to make you more upset.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who helps you hang up the students’ artwork on the pinboard, despite your objections but you thank him nevertheless.

you and miguel head back to the playground. gabriella is still playing with the other kids. she seems to notice it was time to leave when she sees you both. you both watch waving goodbye at her friends then runs towards you and miguel.

“ready to go, princesa?” he asks, smiling.

the little girl nods eagerly “yep! wait- are we all going to hang out again this weekend?” she looks up at you and miguel with a bright smile.

both you and miguel are surprised by her question.

“oh well—“ he cough awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “we haven’t thought about going somewhere this weekend, mija.”

although there hasn’t been a plan for this weekend, he definitely wants to hang out with you more.

“aww… wait! the carnival is this weekend! we can go there, the three of us!” she jumps excitingly.

you and miguel share a surprised glance. both of you awkwardly chuckling. perhaps gabi is the party planner, always has the best ideas.

“well, i have to look at the tickets first and which day we’ll go.” miguel informs his daughter.

“can we go friday after school?! pretty please?!” she turns to you. “miss, are you free on friday?”

your heart melts at those goggly eyes staring up at you. how can you possibly say no to that? besides, you actually don’t have any plans on friday. the only plans you have is a saturday brunch with friends.

“i am.” you smile at her.

gabriella jumps in excitement and miguel has a smile on his face. both pleased with your answer.

“yay!” she quickly gives you a hug and you hug her back, laughing at her enthusiasm. “it’s going to be so much fun! thank you, thank you, thank you!” she turns around and gives her dad a hug as well.

both your hearts melt at gabi’s excitement.

“i guess we’re going to the carnival then.” miguel chuckles, glancing at you with a grin.

“suppose we are.” you softly smile.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who says goodbye to you as he and gabriella exit the school grounds. a smile on his face, excited for the carnival trip on friday.

as you wave goodbye at him and gabi, you overhear voices from the distance. turning your head slightly to hear better, it’s two women from your peripheral. coworkers but you aren’t sure if you consider them coworkers as you listen to what they’re talking about.

“god she’s really chasing after him. it’s so annoying. watching her stand by him, acting all cute and innocent like a damn puppy.”

your heart drops at those vile words.

“exactly! of course she’ll go after a hot single dad.”

hearing those women talk about you makes your chest ache. why whisper such lies?

“who’s also a cop. she probably has a thing for men in uniform. honestly, i don’t blame her. he’s the most attractive cop i’ve ever seen. i’ll definitely chase after that juicy ass ugh.”

that last comment disgusts you. why would they talk about miguel in such a rude manner?

“too bad she has got him wrapped around her finger. ugh i can’t stand her, jesus.”

your heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. a thin layer of tears in your eyes. you walk away before you can be caught. you hold back those tears as you hurried back to your classroom.

their cruel words stab your heart immensely. a single tear trail down your cheek. the droplet landing on the papers in front of you. quickly whipping them away with your hand and sadly sighing, you gather your belongings and march out the classroom.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @nightingale1011 @snails-doodles22 @planetxella @fatimam6 @resident-clown @tatatida @alegnafox @juneonhoth @scaryplanetdestroyer @eatalyy @kianaliv @reirain @futabaurl @zaunsin @nicolerock @oharaslove @slut4oscarissac23 @misakitenko @zayai @odessa-is-my-queen @barbixsatan

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[stellayuta]

Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 5 (FINALE)

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 💙

PART 1 ||| PART 2 ||| PART 3 ||| PART 4 ||| PART 5

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3 WARNING! Always use protection!

word count: 10k

a/n: part 5 and the final part! For the purpose of this story, Last race of the season takes place in Japan, not Abu Dhabi.

"Y/N..." A voice tries to break your rigid concentration. "Listen, Y/N..."

"What!" you snap finally, turning to face your anxious coworker. You look away from your monitor to find one of the timid interns holding her laptop shakily, mortified at your outburst. You clear your throat and quickly readjust your computer glasses.

"I'm sorry about that, I was just going through some of the client meeting notes." You clarify, pointing at your screen. "What's wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure the tickets were booked right. I've never traveled out of the county. And this is such a big deal as an intern, I-I want to make sure I do everything right!" she blurts out, making you give her a small, nostalgic smile. You remember when you were an intern - tiny, timid, clueless. When you moved out of your small town, you left behind all the things that restricted or haunted you. Now your new job is flashier than ever, in the heart of a metropolitan city, buzzing with people and possibilities and with a promotion on the horizon. It had been a year, and you don't even remember Megumi's face anymore. You had no hard feelings and not even a single second of your time left to give to him anymore.

It was hard at first of course, but encouragement and support from your friends and a lot of self-work soon helped you find balance and self-satisfaction in life. You were at your healthiest at this point. Away from turmoil and away from self-doubt.

"Y/N, did you listen?" the intern looked at you nervously, derailing your train of thought yet again.

"Come again, sorry."

"The other Manager has recommended your name to accompany me at the Tech Summit, with two other interns. He said you'll be able to manage us properly. They've already booked your tickets."

You almost choke on the coffee you're sipping.

"What? Who the hell gave them-" you begin to roar but then looking at the poor girl cower in fear, you sit back down.

"No, no. I'm not mad at you."

You were mad because this was the weekend of the last race. The decider match.

Of course, it had been a year, you had metamorphosized, moved on. But you never forgot the race that got you on the edge of your seat back in Vegas. And neither did you forget the man who drove you crazy with lust. Not even for a single day. His business card was still hidden underneath your phone cover, creaseless. You had never dared to look at his number.

Now, you cheered him on as a fan. Following his races, rooting for him. Every now and then, your heart would ache - but you were happy for him. The only connection you had with him was through your device screen.

After a disappointing end to his last season, you had a lot of guilt. He clearly looked a bit weary, insomnia ridden for sure. Not willing to talk during interviews, keeping a low profile. He had gathered a lot of negative press because of this, people on social media sending him death threats, cyber bullying him, picking apart anything he said or did. It broke you to see him that way and there were many times you wanted to reach out - comfort him. But you knew it wasn't right.

You weren't ready then and he definitely didn't need a reminder that you happened to him. And now, it's too late for any of that.

Yuta maintained his aggressive, dominant racing style that he cultivated over the last year compared to the calm, calculative run he had during the years prior. It was a shock to the grid, but newer fans were very fond of the new beast that the track had birthed. He spoke less, remained polite and stayed out of trouble - focusing everything on winning races.

Fan interaction was the least of his concerns right now because Geto's team, Red Bull - had come up with massive and effective updates making the fight for the title a challenging yet thrilling one. They wanted to continue their laurels from last year and secure Geto his second win. They were closely tailed by Gojo and Geto's teammate, Mahito.

Geto and Yuta were currently tied in the standings. The final match was to take place on Sunday. The decider. Yuta and Geto's home race. And you would now miss it because that stupid manager can't be bothered to move his ass.

"I have plans. I can't make it." you flatly tell the intern who merely frowns. She was probably prepared to get a rejection from me because she is ready with her rebuttal. "The manager said you had committed a few weekends this summer. He just picked this one based on that."

"I'll talk to him." you reply, shaking your head and pinching your throbbing temple. With great responsibilities, come great migraines.

"Where is the summit anyway?" you ask, already typing out a message for her manager.

"Oh, It's in Japan. I'm quite excited, it's a beautiful country."

Japan?

You backspace the entire message.

"Never mind, I'm coming." You leave your laptop open as the split window flashes with a formula one ad - "Decider Race in Suzuka, Japan. Join the Fun, December this Year!"

"Let me meet up with your supervisors and talk more."

*****

The immigration at Japan's Nagoya International Airport, with three kids tailing you, hiding behind you like puppies is a bit of hassle with the language barrier and everything, but you persist regardless.

It's rather comfortably cool but not bitingly cold, even for December, owing to Suzuka's more southern location - compared to Tokyo. There is no sign of snowfall as you witnessed from the airplane while it descended. It would be good conditions for the race - a bit dry perhaps. And of course, the summit, the main attraction!

The interns, though a bit overwhelmed by the new environment, are starting to show signs of excitement as well. Their initial shyness is giving way to curiosity, their eyes wide with wonder at the sights and sounds of the bustling airport. You smile, knowing that this experience will be a memorable adventure for them too.

You are finally able to catch a shuttle to the hotel you're staying at - a five star one (courtesy of your company) and are finally able to relax, staring out the foggy window at the organized and clean Japanese streets, and the people, dressed in plain, formal clothes walking to work perhaps. You almost get lost in the mundanity of it all until the interns alert you that the hotel is here.

You all get down with all your luggage and gawk at the premier hotel building with its cream granite exterior, European design and tall pillars. It looked a bit out of place in the minimalistic spread of Suzuka. There is already a line at the receptionist's desk when you near it, making you sigh.

"Ah foo-" you turn to face your interns. "Can one of you hold the place while I sit somewhere?" The interns hesitantly, but definitively shake their head to say No. Kids, they grow up fast.

You stand in line for what feels like an hour but is only a few minutes until you hear an entourage approach you with their shiny, expensive luggage and matching clothes.

"We have VIP access, let us cut." one of them, a suited and no-nonsense woman tells you. You raise a brow at her, staring at her chapping red lips and burgundy jacket.

"Like hell. Cut after us, we're going first." You tell them flatly.

"Listen, we don't have time for this so please just comply..." the woman tries to negotiate but you don't want to budge.

"I don't have time either." you raise your hand.

"Let me handle this..." A man steps in front of the woman, towering over both of you. He is completely covered head to toe in a red beanie, red track suit and dark glasses with a black face-mask. Before he can say anything though, he simply looks at you and your interns.

"Y/N?" He removes his glasses to show a pair of cerulean eyes that you immediately match with a snowy head and a flashy personality in your brain.

"No way..." you clasp at your mouth. "Gojo Satoru?" you exclaim, confusing the parade of staff, probably Ferrari staff behind him.

"Next!" the receptionist bellows before you two can talk further and you make haste, finishing up the formalities, grabbing the keycard and returning to talk to Gojo, followed by your heard of puppies who look at Gojo skeptically. Of course they would, if a flashy, red man showed up.

"I'm- Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared!" He says and you open your mouth to defend yourself but he clearly has more to say.

"Yuta was distraught! What the hell happened between the two of you anyway! He won't talk to Geto, well they are kind of on weird terms now anyway. But he won't even talk to me!"

Hearing Yuta's name makes you immediately divert your eyes.

"H-How has he been?" you ask, softly.

"Well he was in a mood last season. We were all afraid he'd run us over with his Merc." Gojo admits, recalling some eerie memory of Yuta. "Well, specifically he was angry. But wouldn't talk about it. He got reprimanded by the management of course and started to focus his anger on the races instead." He tells you.

"I mean, he was always a beast on the track, a once in a generation talent. But now, he's simply incomparable. The only races he lost out on this season were ones where he pushed the car so hard, the engine or the mechanism went off."

Internally, you are happy that Yuta seems to be doing well. But somewhere, you feel a pang of discomfort. This isn't the Yuta you know. Or any of his peers know.

"Give me your number by the way..." Gojo asks, excitedly, removing his phone, also bright red. Human Ferrari he is, for sure.

"What for?"

"To leak on the internet..."

"Gojo..."

"What to hang out of course. And I have something to send to you." He says, forcing you to divulge your number which you do, with a grimace. What could go wrong anyway.

"Oh, and I don't know if you're still on talking terms with Yuta but, he's on floor 5 of this hotel, meet him if you want-" Gojo tells you and your heart skips a beat. You sneak a glance at your keycard and feel your throat go dry. You are on floor 5 as well. Before you can say anything else though, the Ferraris are on their way.

"Make sure you are free tomorrow! It's race day!" He says, without turning as their entourage enters the glass elevators.

"How do you know him, Y/N, he was quite hot..." One of the interns tugs at your elbow.

"Was he a former sweetheart?" The other intern grins at you.

"Hell no!" you snap. "That's a professional formula one racer. Watch ESPN a bit more, kids." you say, pulling them along with you to floor 5. You hope and pray with all your might that you don't run into Yuta at any point. Only when you send them off to their suites and enter your own, you finally take a huge breath of relief.

You thought you were over Yuta as well. That you could look at him and interact with him as fan. Maybe that was the case, given you'd never see run into him again. You cover your reddening face with your hands as you slump down to the ground and go into memory mode. It all comes back to you all of a sudden. His height, his dark hair, his large, innocent eyes, his firm, toned body and careful hands. His calming voice and his cozy demeanor. The more you think about him, the soggier your panties feel. You cannot afford to get out of this hotel room and run into him. You have no idea what you will do to him if you see him. Plus, what if he has a girlfriend now? Control yourself, Y/N. Show maturity.

You suck in a harsh breath and get off the carpeted floor, instead removing your laptop from your bag and checking emails to distract yourself. An ad keeps popping up in the corner of your screen though - about the Decider Race in Suzuka. And after all your attempts to ignore it, you finally click on it, annoyed.

You go through the seats and the prices. Even the cheapest, general admission ticket you can find sells for a fortune, making you gasp at the numbers. Great. This gives you a solid reason to NOT go. Now you can use it as an excuse to convince your brain that you are not losing out on an opportunity.

You shut the tab and continue looking at your agenda for tomorrow, smiling and humming to yourself in relief. That is until you hear your phone buzz to life, beside your laptop.

You check it to see a few messages from an unknown number.

"Helloooo!!!"

"Gojo here. Satoru Gojo. Handsomest driver on the grid. Ferrari's muse and face."

"You are already 20 seconds late at replying. Be quicker!"

You cringe at the string of messages and send him a thumbs up emoji as a reply, snickering menacingly when he sends another string of complaints. You wonder if Gojo too has a queue of women waiting for him to notice them. In that case, has he been influencing Yuta too?

You shut the thought down immediately. You're a fan. You remind yourself.

"Look what I got for you. Thank me later."

*Attached File*

Did he send you a trojan virus? nope. It's worse.

You open up the PDF file to find a ticket of some sort. Only it's the paddock VIP ticket for the race tomorrow. You'll be in Ferrari's stands.

You type out a long, long, long message. One full of swears and reprimands. But you backspace all of it and instead hit the call button.

"Ah, hi. Did you see-"

"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS GOJO SATORU!" you shriek into the phone receiver earning a yelp from Gojo.

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Y/N. You can't say no."

"But-"

"I've already paid."

"....."

"Oh, come on. Cheer for me. Come. You'll have fun!"

You are too angry to answer, and you simply cut the call. After your five minutes of anger subsides, anxiety takes its place. So, this is it. You get to see Yuta demolish the track live. Maybe this will be the last time ever. Maybe it's a good thing.

You decide to not think too much about it and just sleep on it instead. And sleep comes fairly easy, after your day-long air travel and the nervousness that maybe Yuta is hugging his blankets with his muscular arms, right next door. You picture those arms around your waist for a second and reminisce his deep blue eyes as you fall asleep, a bit bothered and surely wet.

*****

The next morning, you wake up before the sun even has a chance to show its face. You take a cold shower and prepare everything for the day to come. The Tech Summit will be a crucial stage to showcase your company and you, and your interns have to do a good job. As soon as the clock strikes 7, you go knocking on their doors to wake them up by force.

"Rise and shine, children! We've got some serious networking ahead of us!" you announce with infectious enthusiasm. Suddenly, the volume of your voice strikes you, and a wave of panic sweeps over you at the thought of waking Yuta. The mere idea of him hearing your voice and peeking out from one of the doors sends a shiver down your spine. With your heart racing, you quickly inform the interns that you're heading to the reception area. Without missing a beat, you make your escape, your high heels tapping a rhythm masked by the plush carpet that blankets the entire floor, each step a silent testament to your urgency.

The ground floor lobby of the hotel in the morning is a serene yet bustling oasis of activity. Sunlight streams in through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished marble floors. The air is filled with a subtle blend of fresh coffee and the delicious aroma of breakfast from the lavish dining court, north of the lobby. Plush, modern sofas and armchairs are arranged in cozy clusters, inviting guests to sit and relax.You were too busy with Gojo to notice any of this, last evening. 

As you walk around amongst the many hotel guests who are going about their way, enthralled, you take a seat in one of the sofas. You even see familiar colors, worn by some of the people in groups. You see the full teals of Aston Martin, the pinks of Alpine, the orange of McLaren. Looks like the entire grid is housed in this hotel. You gulp as you try to keep an eye out for any sight of black and subtle teal of Mercedes. 

Instead, you feel a shifting of feet beside you and find a group of dark blue and red clad people looking rather grave and sitting on adjacent sofas, in a close huddle. It doesn’t take too long to recognize long, sleek hair half tied up and half down. His snake-like eyes scan the huddle, as if he’s commanding them. You don’t forget the aura of Geto Suguru. A pale guy, with wild matted and blue hair sits beside him, with a manic expression on his face, like he’s his lap dog. This must be Mahito. They seem to be having some sort of serious conversation with their team. You can’t help but listen in, keeping your eyes on the ground. 

“So what are we going to do about Strategy A?” one of the Red Bull engineers asks Geto, in a low voice, looking around to see if any of the teams are paying attention.

“Act normal, Garner.” Geto tells him, smiling sweetly but darkly. “Don’t act suspicious and no one will notice.”

“We are to proceed with Strategy B. We don’t attack the rest of the grid today. We will only focus on the Mercedes duo.” Geto states.

“That was the plan all along.” The Red Bull staff interjects. “What are you saying?”

“Well your plan was for me to defend against Okkotsu and Mahito to defend against Merc number 2, Inumaki.” Geto begins as the team leans in closer to pay attention. Mahito seems strangely excited to get a mention from Geto.

“My plan is that we leave Inumaki alone. He’s of no consequence to us. He’ll be too busy defending against the Ferraris.” Geto continues and your brows furrow. What is he on to?

“I am sitting on the pole. And Okkotsu is second. The best way to go about it is to get Mahito to play on the offensive. Okkotsu gets rash and risky when faced with competition or close tailers. It is likely Mahito and Okkotsu will take each other out.”

Your eyes widen as you hear this. 

“And Inumaki has the slower car. Ferrari’s engineers wouldn’t anticipate number 2 and 3 being knocked out. They are more prepared for a podium finish, not the top finish. This will ensure that Red Bull will go home with the Driver’s Championship trophy.” Geto concludes his idea and the Red Bull team immediately begin discussing its feasibility. From the sound of it, most of them seem on board. Mahito seems to be the most excited, willing to give anything for Geto to get his second title.

The absurdity of the ongoing discussion is enough for you to look up and find yourself directly looking into Geto Suguru’s skeptical eyes. Your nostrils flare and a sweat breaks out atop your forehead at the thought of being caught. He narrows his eyes at you but dismisses you as a fan. He doesn’t recognize you. 

Thank GOODNESS.

You smile at him and quickly move away from their group of sofas. As fast as you can. So they are going to use Yuta’s driving style against him today. Which is fine. They are willing to crash into him to take him out as well. This is all a pre-planned, premeditated attempt to injure, or…you gulp… murder.

You lean against one of the reception desks to gather yourself for a minute. The lobby’s morning hustle now feels like a surreal backdrop to the chilling plot you’ve just overheard. The hum of conversations, the clinking of breakfast dishes, and the soft footsteps of guests blend into a muted buzz as your mind races. You need to warn Yuta, but how? 

Your interns show up soon, their bright, eager faces a stark contrast to the dark conversation you just overheard. They’re ready to go for the summit, unaware of the dangerous game being plotted in the corner of the lobby. As they approach, you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and try to push the sinister revelations to the back of your mind. You don’t see the Mercedes team anywhere in the lobby anyway, so you take your leave for the moment, feeling a tightness in your chest.

While the task at hand is crucial, you are more than confident that you can handle it flawlessly. The Tech Summit is being held at one of the corporate headquarters in the city area, a sleek skyscraper with reflective glass windows that glisten in the morning sun. As you step into the spacious lobby, you are greeted by an impressive display of innovation: booths showcasing various avenues in computing. Executives in sharp suits mingle with tech enthusiasts, the air buzzing with excitement and possibility.

Once you are in, you send off your beaming and well-prepared interns to talk to some big shots, their enthusiasm palpable as they approach various booths and networking clusters. You retire to a quiet corner, checking your phone and brainstorming for your next move. It's only a few hours until the race in Suzuka, Japan, a pivotal event in the Formula One calendar. The summit’s focus on the intersection of technology and sports is evident, with several companies proudly displaying their investments in Formula One.

Tech giants are pouring millions into F1, not just for branding but for the practical applications of cutting-edge technology in car performance, data analytics, and real-time communication systems. The fusion of high-speed racing and high-tech innovation is a perfect synergy, driving advancements that benefit both the automotive and tech industries.

However, the tension from earlier this morning lingers. Despite the engaging presentations and lively discussions around you, the clandestine conversation you overheard refuses to leave your mind. The race in Suzuka today is more than just a sporting event—it’s a battleground where the stakes are life and death, a thought that chills you as you consider Geto’s ruthless strategy.

You open your phone to find a few messages from Gojo and it makes a bulb go off in your head.

“Come to the hotel lobby at around 4PM. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I’m at the track right now.” He has texted. You read the message and pull out Yuta’s card from your phone cover. You don’t waste time and call him right away. A woman receives your call on the other end.

“Hello! Is Yuta free?” you ask, desperately but you can tell from the woman’s silence that it is not the case.

“He won’t be free until after the race. I’m sorry.”

‘I-it’s fine.” you laugh nervously, keeping the phone.

That idea was a bust.

Before you can think more, you are pulled in by one of your interns to help you out with a heated discussion they are having with a company representative on use cases of Artificial Intelligence. The rest of the morning and afternoon goes this way, with your hands full of discussions and debates with Men in Tech, mistaking you for one of the interns until you sigh and show them your badge of ‘Director of Software Engineering’, before obliterating them during the ‘discussions’ with a curt smile.

You don’t think about the race until after you have exited the premises of the Summit along with your pumped up interns who are waxing lyrical about you. They won’t stop talking even on the cab ride back home.

“That was amazing Y/N. You saved our necks.”

“Just be confident and patient till they give you a moment to strike.” you tell them wearily. 

Probably a strategy Mahito will be using today. 

“Do we go out today for drinks? How about it?” The interns begin discussing among themselves while I tune them out, shaking my leg in agitation.

“Y/N, want to join us?” one of them asks you eagerly and politely reject their invitation.

“I have plans today.”

“What plans?” The male intern asks, curious. The other two also lean in to listen.

“I am going to watch a Formula One Race, it’s in Suzuka.” You tell them and their eyes go all sparkly before they begin smirking at you.

“It’s the hot driver guy isn’t it. He invited you? That’s awesome Y/N! Looks like he’s interested!” This makes you scoff. “He’s just a friend. He’s not the one I have eyes for anyway.”

“Oooo, so there is someone you have eyes for!” they chime together. “Who is it?” 

An image instantly pops into your head. One of him hovering over you as you moaned out his name. You smile to yourself and dismiss the interns’ questions, making all of them pout.

As you enter the hotel lobby, a stark contrast from its earlier bustling atmosphere greets you. The lively chatter and movement have dissipated, leaving behind an eerie quiet that amplifies the grandeur of the space. The reception area, usually a hub of activity, is now manned by a solitary staff member who nods politely as you pass.

Heading towards the elevator, a wave of unease washes over you, chilling your hands. Should you attempt to find Yuta by knocking on every door on the fifth floor? No, that would likely result in being ejected from the hotel.

Entering your room with a frustrated grunt, you slam the door shut behind you. Another cold shower helps clear your mind, though your appetite remains nonexistent. Stomach growling, you mechanically brush your teeth and change out of your morning pant suit into a comfortable ensemble: a red sweater, blue jeans, and sneakers. The choice of red is a nod to Ferrari, aligning with your plans for the day.

Feeling more at ease in casual attire, you pause to gather your thoughts. It’s 3:45 PM. You should head out now. You grab your phone, keys and wallets and walk out of the suite, impatiently trotting towards the elevator. You turn the corner just in time to see it close. Maybe you are hallucinating but you barely spot a glint of black and teal behind the doors as they swiftly close.

You stop dead in your tracks for merely a moment before you sprint towards the elevator. But that one is gone now. You press the down button for the second one and tap your foot on the ground, waiting for it to arrive desperately. 

When it takes you down to the ground floor, you come out, wildly looking around to see the familiar colors again. When you finally see them, your words all drown in your feelings as you see the black and teal clad man get into the back of a car, giving the driver a quick nod and a short smile. 

It was from fairly far away that you saw him, but you were certain. It was Yuta.

You have to hold yourself upright as you nearly begin hyperventilating and the receptionist has to come and check on you.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m fine.” you assure him, as he makes you sit on one of the sofas. You watch intently through the glass windows as Yuta’s car zooms past. That was your chance! If only you had come out two minutes earlier and weren’t drifting away in your fantasies.

You had to focus now. You can’t afford to have your legs turn to jelly or your head spin out of control anymore.

When the person meant to pick you up arrived, donning a red jacket and black pants, you were completely calm and composed — now willing to think clearly about what to do next.

The drive to the Suzuka Circuit is rather short for obvious reasons. The hotel had been picked to be accessible from the circuit. The car your driver has brought along isn’t a Ferrari, unfortunately.

Arriving at Suzuka Circuit as the evening settles in, the atmosphere is electric with anticipation. The sprawling complex is illuminated by bright floodlights, casting long shadows across the paddock and grandstands. The air buzzes with the hum of engines from nearby practice sessions and the excited chatter of fans who have gathered from around the world to witness the fight for domination between Red Bull and Mercedes.

The paddock itself is a hive of activity. Teams in their distinctive colors, now suited up in their race-suits, bustle about, mechanics fine-tuning the cars under the watchful eyes of engineers. Media personnel dart between interviews, capturing the pre-race fervor and probing for insights. Paparazzi lurk at every corner, their cameras flashing intermittently as they seek shots of drivers and celebrities who have shown up to support the drivers/take pictures for social media.You stare at the whole spread, starry eyed and very much in awe. It feels surreal as the world around you moves at 2x speed.

The cars themselves are a spectacle to behold. The sleek, aerodynamic designs gleam under the lights, adorned with sponsor logos and intricate details. Each team’s car reflects their engineering prowess and commitment to performance excellence, poised to navigate the demanding twists and turns of Suzuka Circuit. You want to go ahead and take a closer look but the Ferrari guy who is guiding you around stops you from doing so until later.

“You can see Ferrari’s car later.” he tells you reassuringly but you frown at him.

You spot Mercedes, clad in their silvery-black-teal livery, standing out with their meticulous preparations, but you maintain a straight face. Red Bull, in their vibrant blue and red, exude confidence and determination as you narrow your eyes at them. 

You are finally taken to Ferrari’s section — an attractive mix of red and gold flying in the stands and the air. The fans add to the vibrant tapestry of the evening. Dressed in team colors, they wave flags and banners, eagerly awaiting autographs and selfies with their favorite drivers. The scent of food from vendors mixes with the exhaust fumes, creating a unique blend that signifies race day excitement.

“Oh, look. There’s Mr. Gojo!” your guide cheers excitedly pointing to a separated section where two shiny, red cars sit in all their glory, surrounded by an army of mechanics and staff, also dressed in red. Seated in one of Ferrari's cars, a familiar figure catches your eye. He sits in the cockpit, helmet off, his tousled white hair catching the light as he adjusts his gloves with practiced ease. Spotting you amidst the crowd, Gojo flashes a brilliant smile and waves enthusiastically from the cockpit.

“Excited?” He tries to yell out over the crowd as you near him and his team. You nod and smile at his engineers before cornering him. 

“Did you see Yuta?” you ask Gojo.

“Busy day man. Haven’t really kept an eye out for him. Why won’t you go talk to him? Mercedes is right over there!” He says, pointing a gloved finger at the black and teal team.

“Won’t allow her… strategic secrets can’t be spilled.” Your guide tells you and Gojo, who seems to be unaware.

“Gojo, there’s something I need to tell you…” you begin, your unwavering eyes grabbing Gojo’s full attention as he puts on a serious face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s about Geto Suguru.”

“Suguru?” Gojo asks, his voice softening by a note. “What’s up with him?”

“Their team. They’re planning a dangerous strategy.” you say, only to get a few stares from the engineering team over at Ferrari. Gojo narrows his eyes at you, the cerulean blue piercing through you.

“And how do you know about this strategy?”

“I overheard. They’re going to make Yuta crash out.”

“Y/N.” Gojo calls out your name, and for the first time in his life, he sounds serious as hell. “Are you accusing Suguru of conspiracy? You know it’s illegal and could cost him his license.”

“But that’s what I heard!” you try to reason but Gojo doesn’t want to hear any of it.

“Suguru has known us since we were young. He would not do such a thing. And I suggest you don’t say this to anyone, not without evidence. Especially to Yuta, he won’t take kindly to it.” Gojo warns you. You hesitate on your spot before your Ferrari guide has to pull you away from the cars.

“Okay, that’s about it.” He says, dragging you away. “We can’t meddle with his concentration right before the race. Talk with him later, Miss Y/N.”

“B-but, I wasn’t done.” you complain, feeling a sting of pain in your elbow where the man grips you. “Hey, let me go!” 

“Listen! I just don’t want you confusing our drivers!” He finally snaps, spitting out at you.

“Their mental state is important! You can’t just say these things to them and bother them right before a crucial race!” he roars as I cringe in the slight flame of fear I feel inside him.

Everyone is way too busy in their chatter and taking photos of cars and drivers to notice what’s happening so you will have to struggle out of this on your own. 

You try to break free from his grip but in vain. 

“Let them get onto the track. I’ll let you go then.” He tells you, calmly.

“Are you holding me hostage right now? I said I understand, let me go!” you yelp, going for another twist of your arm to break free but the man has an iron grip. You begin panicking again now until you see another arm appear from the corner of your eye and hold on to the guide’s arm. 

The arm, covered in silvery black, padded material of a race suit. When you look at his face, your breath nearly stops. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, he barely seems to have noticed you. His penetrating gaze is fixed on your guide and he has him trapped in place.

“What’s the problem here?” He asks, in a rough low voice.

“N-Nothing, I was just escorting her away. Nothing wrong here, Mr. Okkotsu.” the guide stutters away, intimidated by Yuta.

Yuta looks the same, yet noticeably different at the same time. His once doe-like, innocent eyes now are half-lidded and uninterested, hiding secrets and carrying unknown burdens. He barely wants to smile, his lips stuck in a straight, firm line unwilling to curve. His jaw seems a bit more defined now, seemingly as he appears to look slightly manlier, and a lot more unapproachable. He has noticeable purple shadows under his eyes now and an eerily heavy aura.

“Do you not know how to behave with a woman? Leave her at once.” He says, grimly. When the guide finally lets me go and scurries away, Yuta finally looks at me, “Please, take—” but before he can finish his sentences, his lips freeze and his pupils dilate. You yourself let out a small gasp before his name exits your mouth in the sweetest voice possible. “Yuta…”

Yuta stands still for a while, his gaze not moving from you. You see his lips quiver and the muscles in his jaw ripple as he wordlessly takes his leave, moving quickly through the people, running away from you.

Not wanting to let him go to the race like that, you follow him. You follow him into a unisex restroom, closing and locking the door behind you as you find him fidgeting with the tap and the paper towels, unwilling to look at you or the mirror. The dim, dirty lights of the place only highlight his somber features as you frown at him.

You stand next to him until he is forced to acknowledge your presence. 

“H-how have you been, Y/N?” he asks, in a shaky voice.

Good? Better? I haven’t moved on from you? What do you tell him?

The stench and claustrophobia of this restroom doesn’t help the situation at all.

“I’ve been doing better, Yuta. How have you been?” you ask, tenderly. He still won’t look at you.

“I’ve been the same really. Just working hard. Racing. Boring stuff. Haha.” He laughs nervously, licking his lips, keeping his eyes down. 

“Yuta, if you don’t want to see me right now or talk to me. Tell me.” You say, with concern. “I don’t want to spoil your mood before the race.” 

“Not at all. A racer can’t let things like this affect him.” He laughs nervously yet again. “How come you’re here? Gojo invite you or something?”

“He did. That’s besides the point.” You say, getting back to business. “I wanted to meet you to tell you something.”

“Why? Do you want to get laid again? Did Megumi cheat on you again?” He interrupts. “We have all the time after the race, why don’t you excuse me now.” He furrows his brows.

“No, that’s not—”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He confesses. “But, Y/N. I don’t know if I can actually handle seeing your face right now. Because you haunt my waking hours and my nightmares every single day.” He continues.

“I never stopped thinking about how you left me that day. I was begging you to stop. You don’t love me, right? Heck, I haven’t even been able to look at a woman after that. Then let me suffer in peace.” Hearing all of that breaks your heart but you have no right to console him.  

“Is there anything left to say Y/N? Do you want to tell me how much you don’t love me?” he asks bitterly now, finally looking into your eyes. Dark blue, not somber anymore but teary. Vulnerable. Evidently, very much in love with you, after all those months apart.

“Well then, the race is going to start soon, I should —”

Before he can finish though, you grab his suit and pull him down to kiss him. Euphoria spreads through your mind and body, a soothing calm coating your entire being as you feel his lips mingle with yours. He doesn’t resist — he too is a victim of his own yearning. 

The two of you grab a hold of each other's hair and deepen the kiss. You entirely mess up his perfectly combed hair until it falls to the front of his forehead, brushing against yours. The two of you don’t even surface for a breath of air and keep kissing until it’s physically impossible and you have to separate — your face red, and your lips swollen. Both of you panting.

You swipe your thumb on his plump bottom lip, staring at it as you speak to him. 

“Did you get your answer now?”

Yuta seems to be in a daze though, completely bowled over by your bold attempt.

“Listen carefully, Yuta.” you tell him. “The raging maniac I’ve been seeing on the track this past year. That’s not you. You have to play it smart and smooth today, do you understand?”

“Y/N…” he chants, running a hand through your hair and pinching your cheek. “If I don’t drive dominantly, I won’t win.”

“Okkotsu Yuta, if you have ever loved me, promise me you will not drive rashly today.” you tell him clearly, with an air of finality in your voice and he stares at you.

“I’ll do what’s best at that moment, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“No! You have to promise me!” 

“Okay, okay!” he says, giving up, separating from you and opening up the restroom door. “Race starts in a few. I’m going for real now.”

“Please, Yuta. Be careful.” you repeat, tearing up now. “There’s so much I want to say to you later.”

“I’ll see you later with the trophy in hand, that’s a promise.” Yuta states. And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, he brings out the smile he always flashed earlier. Your Yuta’s heart-warming, genuine smile.

The two of you leave the restroom at last and he would not let you go back to the Ferrari zone. Instead, making you sit with his black and silver army of curious Mercedes folk. They all look at you like you’re some kind of shiny toy and it makes you blush and hide behind Yuta.

“Take care of her. Don’t scare her, I will know.” Yuta warns them, taking your hand and leading you to one of the fancy pavilions reserved for staff and their guests. They hand you a pair of headphones and make you sit with some of the women who happen to be the WAGs of the crew and the drivers. You have the pleasure of joining Inumaki’s hot as hell girlfriend who is wearing a silken top and an elegant black skirt along with a heart-winning smile. And there you are with your Ferrari sweater.

[Music recommendation, damn even the color of the audio track goes with the story:]

Yuta runs off quickly after that to hop into his car and have a final conversation with his engineers before he and his teammate Inumaki are called off to join the starting order for the formation lap. From your vantage point, you watch as the sleek, powerful machines take their positions. The sight of Yuta in his Mercedes, with his intense focus and determination, fills you with a mixture of pride and anxiety. 

As the formation lap begins, the cars glide gracefully around the track, their engines producing a symphony of power. The tension builds with every passing moment, the crowd’s anticipation reaching a fever pitch. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart racing in sync with the machines on the track. After a few minutes, the cars begin lining up in order again and the crowd goes silent — with Geto and Yuta making up the front line and an eager Mahito right on Yuta’s tail.

The race is about to begin, and you can only hope that Yuta will deliver on his promise. You press your palms together in anticipation and pray for Yuta to be safe.

They show the faces of all twenty drivers in a promotional video running over on the giant screens. You spot Yuta just as they announce the beginning of the race.

The five red lights come to life one by one with a beep and at the next beat of your heart, they go off, the car engines revving to life and the crowd going ballistic with cheer as Geto crosses Yuta and Yuta rapidly shifts to the side, going tire to tire with Geto’s Red Bull, sliding past him by a minimal margin and taking lead of the race as the fans erupt into cheer. You find yourself standing up and pumping your fists in the air. 

The cars follow the leading duo, creeping along behind them in quick succession.

“That's Good there Yuta. Keep pushing." You here a robotic voice in your ears. Probably Yuta's engineer.

“Copy that." You hear Yuta's voice and blush. Inumaki’s girlfriend eyeing you and grinning.

As the first lap comes to an end and continues into the second lap, there's a buzz of conversation going on in the room. The engineers and staff moving around, barking at each other and some glued to the gigantic screens.

“The car's doing well. Good job guys." Yuta sends out a message.

You overhear two of the engineers discussing among themselves that Yuta was being chattier and nicer than usual today and you smirk internally.

As the second lap progresses through the team witnesses a strange change in positions. Geto slows down ever so slightly to let Mahito’s car pass. There is a bit of commotion going on inside the room, curious discussions about Red Bull’s strategy taking place but you are aware what's going to happen as Mahito's slithering car inches closer to Yuta and activates its DRS.

“No!" You yell out and the entire room turns to look at you.

“Yuta! He needs to get out of the way! He-" 

But before the engineers can register what you're saying or what's happening on the track you see Mahito’s car touch Yuta's from the behind, Yuta intercepting this and narrowly avoiding being tossed in the air. He does get pushed off the track though and into the grass until he gains control and slowly makes his way back onto the track. Now in 7th place.

You are the only one who breathes a sigh of relief because you're the only one who is aware of what went down behind the scenes. There is an uproar in the room now, a lot of them cursing out Mahito and Red Bull to no end. 

One of them finds the time to connect with Yuta on the Radio and ask if he's fine.

“Yeah, I'm alright guys." He reassures everyone. “Pushed far behind though. That seemed pretty deliberate. Put that up for review please." His voice breaks through the radio.

The crowd collectively gasps as they now see Geto swap places with Mahito and regain his position as the leader.

“Yuta. We can salvage this. Stick to the first strategy. Try to be aggressive.” The engineer instructs Yuta.

"Copy, that. At least until I gain P3" Yuta replies, making the engineers exchange  panicked glances.

You see Yuta in action on the big screen and now understand what people have been saying about his feral driving. You witness as he pushes the car to its absolute limit, overtaking two cars — an Aston Martin and Itadori’s Ferrari in one go at one of the fast corners, leaving them startled in his dirty air. He's now racing at P4, after Inumaki lets him pass as per team orders.

“Oh my god, he's up with Gojo now." Inumaki's girlfriend squeaks, holding your hand with an iron grip,making you break out into a sweat two.

Gojo’s Ferrari and Yuta’s Merc go head on, battling each other, getting into each other's way. Gojo is as unpredictable as Yuta is ferocious.

The two of them swap positions a good four times until Yuta is able to zoom past him in a dramatic show, in one of the wider corners, right into the straights.

He's now P3. And the only competition he has in front of him are the red bulls.

“You're in podium position right now. Second place is ensured. Don't do anything stupid." The engineer warns Yuta.

The room doesn't hear back from Yuta for a while until all of you witness his aggressive drive turn to a more smooth one for the first time in over a year.

"Copy that. I've a promise to keep.”

The crowd, the crew, the engineers, the photographers, the journalists, the WAGs and you. All of you watch as time stills, Yuta moving like a stream of water, smooth and direct, inching close to Mahito's car. 

They enter the DRS zone and the Mercedes’ flap flips open to let in the air stream. 

Yuta slips to the side staying just a tad bit behind Mahito whose intent now seems to push Yuta off the track for good if he attacks. 

Mahito who was expecting and anticipating Yuta to fault, for him to aggressively move past keeps waiting as they keep driving on the straight with DRS on.

It isn't until Mahito keeps straight, too drowned in his confusion to notice Yuta speed up right as they turned into a corner. 

Without warning, right as the DRS zone ends Yuta hits the throttle and speeds out of Mahito's reach, making the crowd go crazy.

In that moment, everyone on the track and in the stands is rooting for Yuta. They are waiting with bated breathes as the last lap approaches and Yuta's car creeps closer to Geto’s Red Bull.

The engineers have nothing to say now, they too, watch on in awe.

Your hands clasp over your mouth, as you watch without blinking as they enter the last corners.

Call it luck.

Talent and hard work can take you very far. But the harder you work, the better your luck is. And in those final seconds, Yuta happened to have newer, more seasoned tyres compared to Geto's more worn ones owing to an earlier pit stop. Maybe your prayers worked.

And that was it for Red Bull.

Yuta pushes the car and rockets out of the corner, zooming towards the finish line as the checkered flag waves the declaration of victory for him. Leaving the red bull, the ferraris, everyone who ever doubted him in the dust of the track.

He pumps his fists out of the cockpit, screaming profanity into the radio.

“FUCKKK YESSSS!!!!" 

“LET'S GO BABY!!! LET'S FUCKING GOOO AAAAHHHH!!!" 

He pulls his car aside while the others pass and returns to the track to do some celebratory donuts with his car, the steam from his tyres enveloping the car.

It's like a festival in Mercedes' operations room. Everyone is hugging each, patting each others’ back, crying. Inumaki's girlfriend is mumbling to herself, still holding your hand.

And you?

You are in utter shock. Absolutely unable to form sentences.

One of the engineers has to shake you awake.

“Okkotsu has done it! He's done it! Not just that, Inumaki came in third! We've won both titles! Mercedes has done it!" 

"H-huh?” You choke out, tearing up.

"Don't you want to see him? He's coming in right now!” the team exclaims, crowding at the door, aching to get out and meet their winner.

Out in the paddock, the teams have arrived to welcome their hard-fought warriors. The various colors stand together in unison waiting beside the tracks, separated from the drivers by the chain fence.

You see a line of women waiting by, standing out from the teams thanks to their eye-catching, elegant attires. They looked like supermodels — tall, magazine cover beauties. They must be the WAGs. 

You suddenly feel very conscious about your sweater and jeans. Just a year ago, you too had the most exquisite outfit possible, completely ruined by Yuta on his Lambo.

The drivers show up one by one as the paddock welcomes them. There is an impressive cheer for the arrival of Gojo Satoru, P4. He winks at the WAGs as they appear totally distracted from their own racer boyfriends but he doesn't stay for long.

He meets up midway with a dejected looking Geto and takes him away to some place you can't quite see.

Looks like they want to have a talk.

If the cheer for Gojo was something, it's nothing compared to the deafening roar championship winner, Yuta receives as soon as his Mercedes pulls in.

He jumps out of the car, removes his gloves, helmet and fireproof and comes running straight towards your lot, jumping onto them as they screech, hoisting him up in the air and ferally rubbing his hair.

“Well done, boy!" 

“Well done!" They chant.

When they finally let go and you're able to see Yuta. You don't see any sign of the depressed ghost of a man you saw earlier. This was the Yuta you knew and loved. Happy, shining bright, eyes full of life.

He wipes the sweat of his forehead as he approaches you and grabs you by the waist to pick you up and twirl you around.

He presses his sweaty nose to yours, his dark eyes twinkling.

“We did it, baby. I kept my promise." He laughs between words. 

"Now then,” he smiles at me giddily, walking away from the team with me still in his arms.

"What did you want to say to me earlier?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Telling you just how much I love you will take more than a few minutes, Yuta." You kiss his nose.

“More than a few hot nights." You kiss his forehead.

“And more than a lifetime." You say, finally leaving a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Okkotsu Yuta." 

You press your foreheads together, as a quick paparazzo clicks a picture of the two of you.

{{fin.}}

a/n: thank you everyone for reading! I was able to power through the chapters and put everything out quickly. Hope you guys enjoyed the tale of Racer Yuta!

----> BONUS<----

You hold the headboard of your bed for support as you grin down at a very engaged Yuta, lost in your juicy womanhood, holding onto your thighs for dear life as you sit on his face. His enthusiasm as he suckles and bites your sensitive zones drives you crazy and you come all over his face for what seems the tenth time in the past three days. He just refuses to let you go whenever he visits you in your city. You have to nearly always put in an extra sick day to cater to his and your needs. The two of you look out onto a bustling city from your high-rise condo. You wonder how many people know that a world-class, champion racing driver is eating your brains out right above their heads. The thought makes you giggle shamelessly.

"Yuta, stop, already." you urge him, laughing between words, pulling at his hair to get him to stop.

"Nope, I can't." he admits, looking up at you, with lust filled eyes. "I only get so many days with you. Need to make the most of this time."

You roll your eyes at him, getting off of him, making him whine loudly.

"Patience, lover-boy." you tease him, turning around to sit on his abs. His abdominal muscles are so well defined that even merely sitting on them sends chills up your wussy.

"Time to give my mini some love." you say, smiling at the bulge forming in Yuta's sweatpants. You uncover it to see his valiant dick stand tall, after being ignored by both you and Yuta for so long.

"It got prettier from last time." you pout at it, examining it as you stroke it with love. It pulls out the prettiest groans out of Yuta.

"Y/N, you saw it yesterday." he complains. "When you said you wanted to bounce on it."

"Well, Yuta. You can't just eat me out for all of eternity. Your dick has needs." you shut him up and take him in your mouth, savoring its thickness. It's just like the first time you ever took him in your mouth. You run and tongue up and down his length as Yuta grabs a hold of your ass, holding on till he's moaning.

You lick at his slit, playing around with the pre-cum he's leaking. His cock is so violent, it beats around inside of your mouth, and you silence it by pushing it to the back of your throat, where it sits snugly.

Your nose pushes into Yuta's balls as you let your throat do the rest of the work and soon enough, Yuta is coming inside your mouth with a monstrous groan, leaving you with plenty of fluid to play around with.

When you finally pull off, mouth full of cum, you see that there is still some life in his dick. You turn out to face him and now sit on his dick, grinding back and forth till he becomes hard again.

Your cheeks stay swollen with loads of his cum and Yuta stares at your face in disbelief.

"You really my cum don't you?"

and you nod fervently.

"Swallow it."

You shake your head.

"God, Y/N.." he closes his eyes, leaning back and letting you ride him, feeling his dick prod at your insides, its outline clearly showing through your abdomen.

"Ah..." he moans out, finding a rhythm he likes and the two of you roll your hips together. You want to moan out so bad but your cum sits in your mouth, marinating. You want to make a mess out of it on Yuta's abs and lick it all off.

How you've waited so long to do so many things to Yuta.

Only, your moment gets interrupted by a rogue phone call. From your phone.

"Buh, ish ma day ff!" you say, your mouth full and unable to speak coherently.

Yuta picks up the call and sticks it between his shoulder and an ear, while grabbing and controlling your hips with both his hands. His messy black hair falls on his sweaty forehead and his lashes brush his cheeks as he talks to the caller in his fucked out voice.

"Who's this?"

"Y/N, oh, she's busy."

"Are we fucking? Seriously, Satoru? Nunya business!"

Gojo Satoru!? The shock at his question makes you accidentally swallow the cum and you almost cry out.

"Uh-huh. Cool, bye." Yuta says, eyeing your reaction and closing his eyes.

"Oh no, I swallowed it!" you complain to Yuta and he's barely listening, chasing his orgasm. Soon enough, the grip on your waist tightens and he's coming inside of you this time. His neck stretching back and his adam's apple bobbing in his wide throat.

When he finally regains his composure, he looks back at you to reply.

"You swallowed. Finally! Good job!"

"Yuta!" you pout.

"Aw, baby..." Yuta teases you. "There's always room to do more." he sees, pinching your perky nipples.

"Your interns ask about you, Gojo told me. He takes them to races, VIP passes whenever he's free. He's made them into Ferrari fans, alas." Yuta tells you.

"Ahem. They were promoted to full time employees after the feedback from the Summit." you correct him. "Plus, they know I'm fucking you every chance I get. That's what I'm up to." you say, sliding off his dick and falling into his arms, allowing him to continue playing with your tender breasts.

"You're all packed up for this weekend's Monaco Grand Prix, right? We leave in two days." Yuta reminds you, biting your lower lip and bursting into a smile.

"Of course, I'm looking forward to it." you tell him. The two of you stare at each other, drowning in each other's passion until you realize something.

"Oops almost forgot. I love you, Yuta."

Yuta blushes pink when he hears it. "You say that every ten minutes."

"Isn't that what I told you..." you remind him.

"I'm saying it every day." You place a tender kiss on his lips.

"Forever."

[mustainegf]

Fluff with Older James with a you get reader who has a kid and he’s meeting the kid for the first time or just something with fluff along those lines

AWWWWW THIS IS SO CUTE IM GONNA EXPLODE

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ²⁰¹¹

The very last thing I had expected to do was meet James Hetfield. I mean, he's a legend, a rock star, way out of anyones league, it may have seemed like a dream. But life is funny I guess, somehow, we ended up crossing each other's path.

Something just clicked between us despite our age gap. We understood each other in a way that felt natural and right.

Life had taken a different turn a year ago when I became a mother. My little boy, was everything for me. His father and I had parted ways quite amicably, but that had left me very wary toward relationships.

James and I had dated for months, and things were getting very serious. He'd been so understanding and patient, never pushing too hard and always within the bounds of respect. Now the time had finally come to meet my little boy. That's one big step, and I was pretty nervous.

But I didn’t expect it to go badly, James had changed my life in ways nobody could. He was so incredibly sweet, loving me, and hopefully my son, for who we are.

I had told James about my son eventually, and he had been more than supportive.

We planned just an easy afternoon at my house. James was to come, and we would spend some time together. I wanted it lowkey, hoping this would simmer down his introduction a bit.

While I was preparing lunch, I kept checking the clock, my stomach was churning in anticipation.

When the knock came at last, I exhaled shakily, dried my hands on the towel, and came to answer it. There James was, holding a simple bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small toy truck in the other. His smile was warm, and I felt all my affection for him in that moment.

"Hey," I said, stepping aside to let him in. "Come on in."

"Hi," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I brought these for you." He handed me the flowers before leaning down to give me a kiss. I couldn't help smiling.

"They're lovely, thank you sweetheart," I said, and began to relax a little. "And what's that?" I nodded toward the toy truck, James’ arm still around me.

James smiled. "This is for the little guy. I thought he might like it."

My heart just about melted a right there. "Aww, James, that's so sweet. He’s in the living room. Come on, I'll introduce you."

We walked into the living room where my son was playing with his blocks on the floor. He looked up as we entered, his big blue eyes curious and alert.

"Honey, this is mamas friend James," I mentioned, kneeling beside him on the floor. "Can you say hi?"

He looked from James to me, his little face serious. "Hi," he said low.

"Hi, Little guy," James said, and bent down on his heels to his tiny height. "I brought something for you. Do you like trucks?"

The boys eyes went wide when he saw the toy. "Truck!" he exclaimed, tilling forward with a reach.

James handed it to him with a smile. "It's all yours, buddy."

He dove right into playing with the truck, all shyness suddenly forgotten. I just stood there watching them, my heart was full.

I admired as max drove the little truck up James large arm, creating deep laughs from the man whom. I’d fallen in love with.

In the afternoon we played, built towers out of blocks, and did some truck racing on the living room floor. James was amazing, very patient and observant, not forcing anything, just going at my little boys pace.

I could tell in his eyes that he had affection toward my son, and I was rather touched by that.

After lunch, we put him down for his nap. As I closed the door to his room, I turned to James. I was relieved and happy.

"Thank you," I said, trembling with emotion. "You were so great with him."

James pulled me into his arms and held me in a tight, warm hug. "He's a great kid. You've done an amazing job with him.”

He gently brushed the now steaming tears away with his thumb. "I love you, and I want to be a part of your life. That little guy is a part of you, so he's important to me, too."

Within weeks it would become such a regular feature that James would turn up after band practice, sometimes just to help me cook dinner or to play with my son.

It was on one of the Saturdays that we decided to take him to the park. The day was perfect; clean and full of sunshine, with my son in high spirits as we saddled him up in his stroller to head out.

James pushed the stroller while I walked beside him, our hands brushing together occasionally.

At the park, he was running about, all full of energy and giggles. James chased him around, making monster faces and noises at him, he squealing in delight.

"Do you want to go on the swings?" James asked, met with enthusiastic nods.

We went to the swings first, and James picked him up, slipping him into the baby seat, and gently pushing him while he giggled and shouted, "Higher, higher!"

I stood there, watching them, James turned toward me. "Come on, join us," he said and patted the swing next to my son.

When we came home from the park, my little boy had fell asleep in his stroller. James carried him upstairs and put him into his crib. He gently brushed a kiss on his forehead. It really was so tender and such a loving gesture, it brought tears to my eyes once again.

Back in the living room, James pulled me into his arms as we tumbled onto the couch. "I love spending time with you and him," he whispered. "You both mean so much to me."

I looked up at him then, my heart full. "We love having you here. You make everything better."

He leaned down and kissed me. It was a slow, sweet kiss that said it all.

James wasn't just my partner; he was becoming a father figure to my boy, real stability in our lives. The age gap between us didn't mattering.

Our little family was unorthodox, but love and laughter reigned in every inch of it. And most importantly, my son had a real father now.

[reorientation]

love the idea of having my male best friend slowly change his mind about my lesbianism. I came out really young (15) and never did anything with boys and my best friend, as we get older, begins to fantasize more and more about me and just decides that lesbianism can't be real and that I'd fuck him if I weren't so proud and stubborn. I'm none the wiser to the development, outwardly he's supportive, there to comfort me through my break ups and unwise situationships. finally one night I decide I've been neglecting our friendship too much for girls who keep playing with me, and we plan a night where we stay in and chill like we did as teenagers, only this time with some hallucinogens.

we watch one of our favorite movies and I take a low dose and start tripping after half an hour. not heavy visuals or anything, just sensation. I'm a little out of it, feeling this wave like sensation over my whole body, and I struggle to tune back in because something is definitely going on. when I focus again I realize our movies is no longer playing on the tv, instead there's a video of a man bending a younger girl over doggy style and fucking her so hard she moans uncontrollably as her tits bounce. between my legs aches and I realize he's teasing my clit through my panties, fluttering feeling moving all over my body and making me shudder.

"wh-what are you doing?" I stutter.

"shhhh just enjoy it." he says.

I can't even think. he dips his fingers below my panties and touches me, sending that aching feeling to a ten, making my clit throb and my vulva twitch.

"you're already so fucking wet." his voice is strange next to my ear, like it's very close and very far at the same time, "I knew you'd want this."

"n-no," I gasp as he plays with my pussy. I can't control my body enough to get his hand away, and the sensation is so different, so strange that I can't get myself to stop it, I just want to know how it'll feel next.

he slides his fingers inside me while he plays with my clit, pumping them in and out. his other hand goes under my shirt and gropes me all over, eventually grabbing my tits. he pushes my t-shirt up. I'm braless because we're wearing our pjs, just an oversized t-shirt, thin tiny shorts, and knee socks. he leaves my shirt pulled up over my tits, which is so embarrassing, and pinches one of my nipples before taking my other breast in his mouth.

I don't realize I'm whining, "oh my god, oh, oh my god, please, what are you-- what are you-- fffffuck-- what are you doing to me?"

the sucking sensation on my nipple is too much. my aching cunt tightens around his fingers and a warm wave spreads all over me as I come.

he starts to reposition me on my back and that's when I snap back to myself. I protest and struggle, "what are you doing? what's gotten into you? please, please, you have to stop."

my body works a little more and I start to squirm and push against his chest. he's gotten me beneath him, on my back on the couch. he forces my legs apart and shoves me down roughly.

"shut up, you want this you fucking slut. you think real lesbians come on men's fingers?"

he shoves the fingers he had inside me in my mouth before I can answer, and the drugs pulse through me, making me helpless. I can only suck on his fingers as I make vague noises of protest.

he rubs his cock over my clit and my whole body twitches. "that's it, what a good little lesbian. I'm gonna make you come on my cock."

I shake my head in panic. he takes his fingers out and uses his hand to push his cock hard against my slit as he slides it back and forth, teasing my clit with the head of his cock. my face gets hot and my cunt throbs.

"no-- n-n---n--n-n--" I gasp and whine. his cock is long and thick, hot and hard. I've never felt anything like it.

he slides it in and I scream. I don't even know what makes me scream: the immediate white hot pleasure, the pain, or the betrayal. he stretches me slowly, pushing himself little by little inside as I arch up and struggle for breath, making sounds I've never made before.

"fuck you're so tight. you're like a virgin." he says, his eyes darkening the more he pushes inside. I see a thought light up in his face, "oh my god, you are a virgin."

"no-- I-- I--" he shuts me up, forcing his mouth on mine. he bottoms out deep inside me, the head of his cock against my cervix, making me sting and strain deep, deep in a place I've never been touched. he kisses me and I try to pull away, to refuse, as he tries to force my mouth open.

he pulls his hips back and nearly pulls all the way out, a motion that leaves my cunt pounding as I moan against his mouth, then he slams himself deep inside and I scream, and he takes advantage of my now open mouth, pushing his tongue inside and forcing mine to swirl with his, rub together, as he lulls inside my mouth. he starts fucking into me in similar slow yet forceful way, not letting my body get away from him, not letting me refuse anything.

as he fucks me I can feel my body heating up. my thighs begin to shake as I try hard to deny the orgasm mounting. he sucks my tongue as he pounds deep and I begin moaning and whimpering in gibberish.

"that's it, come for me you fucking slut. this is what you were made for. I've heard enough about those stupid little sluts you think you're in love with, take it, take it, like a good lesbian."

I'm gasping as he rams harder into me with each word. the feelings are so intense tears come to my eyes. he grabs my breasts as he beats his cock deeper into me and I can't stop myself, I come on his cock harder than I've ever come in my life. so hard I cry out.

he pounds me through my orgasm and just as the first ends the next one begins, overlapping waves. I arch off the couch as he fucks me, screaming, my cunt clenches around him.

I collapse back down, completely fucked out of my mind. I've never come like that before.

"what a good little lesbian cockslut." he whispers in my ear as I lay dazed beneath him. his cock is still inside me, sliding in and out just a little bit to keep a frustrating sensation going within me. "who's a good lesbian?"

I close my eyes and whimper as his stroke gets longer.

"tell me who's the good little lesbian that came on her rapist's cock?"

my knee are still so weak and my legs still so shaky.

"say it." he demands.

"no," I say weakly.

he flips me over on my knees and pushes me down into the couch by my shoulders, so I'm face down, ass and cunt presented to him. it's a humiliating position.

he slaps my ass hard and I yelp.

"say it."

"no!"

he slaps me again, hard smarting burn on my outer thigh that starts to feel a little good, but still too painful.

"say it."

before he can bring his hand down again, I shout, "I'm a good lesbian! I'm the good lesbian that came on my rapist's cock."

"good girl." he sighs, and puts his cock again at my entrance. "now this time when I put my cock in you, you're going to say, 'thank you, daddy'."

"please, please," I whimper, "please don't do this."

"please don't do this, daddy." he corrects.

I can feel his hand lift again and I rush out, "please don't do this, daddy."

he pushes his head inside and I whine, "ffffuck, fuck--"

"what do you say?" he slides himself deeper.

"thank you, daddy, fuck, fuck, thank you, daddy," he slides evenly inside me as I scramble inside myself for some composure. my legs are so weak, already so wobbly.

"who's gonna rape your pretty little virgin pussy straight?"

he starts pounding into me with new strength. I'm a wailing, moaning mess beneath him, my own juices running down my thighs as he rams my cunt hard and deep.

"you are, daddy," my eyes are rolling back in my head, "fuck, daddy, you're gonna fuck me straight. fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, only that I don't want him to hit me again, and maybe, though I can't take it, I can't have him stop right now.

he pounds my pussy brutally, fucking hard and fast as I scream nonsense into the couch and he speaks low and dark, "I'm gonna fuck the lesbian out of you, you stuck up little bitch, turn you into my good girl, my little slut, who's gonna be my little slut?"

"please-- please, daddy, make me your little slut, fuck the lesbian out of me, daddy, please--"

I come on his cock again, and this time I gush everywhere. I've never done that before, and I can't stop myself from nearly collapsing.

he keeps fucking me and I realize too late that his thrusts are getting more desperate, more sporadic. "daddy, please, you can't come inside me."

just then he grabs my hips and forces himself as deep as he can, ramming against my cervix. I orgasm, a blackout rolling through me, as he spills his come spills hot and deep inside me.

he drops me down on the couch, used and limp. after a few minutes of laying dazed, I notice again the tv, a woman riding a man's cock, lost in the pleasure, throwing her head back and riding desperately as she moans.

he fucks me for the rest of the night, in all different positions: over the side of the couch, doggystyle, prone. at one point I wake up and he's pushing himself inside me from behind as I lay on my side. the drugs make me come over and over, make all kinds of crazy words fall out of my mouth.

the next morning I wake up and he's not there. I leave and decide to never speak to him again.

but a week later he shows up at my door and I let him in so he can throw me against it, rip off my panties, and fuck me there against the door as I groan, "nonononononono I'm a lesbian I can't do this nonono daddy please--"

"I know. now come for me like a good lesbian."

This is an ask just about as much as you're a lesbian - but it's a very hot story, little dyke, and I'd love to see the adorably confused look on your face as you came helplessly, over and over, on your new man's bare cock.

[lady-raziel]

Do you also find it annoying how people will trash talk the USA by using statistics for the whole country instead of looking at them by state?

Like, for example, how they’ll claim we have terrible standards for paid maternity leave, but they’ll use the baseline for it and completely ignore the fact that paid maternity leave is different in each state.

Yeah. I think it’s difficult for people from other countries, especially smaller countries who are geographically small and overall more culturally cohesive, to grapple with the idea that America as a whole is a very challenging country to generalize. Like, yes, ok. I work at a government agency that looks at federal level statistics— the work my coworkers are required to do by statute requires them to look only at federal level data and draw conclusions based on that data. With large scale statistical analysis, you CAN say “based on census data of everybody, the AVERAGE demographics are x, y, and z and the AVERAGE income is x, the AVERAGE person pays this much in taxes, etc.” And those sorts of conclusions are valuable in certain senses and in certain situations.

However, making generalizations like that for a country of 333 million people is really only a very narrow view of the whole picture. People have said before that it’s more like America is actually 50 small countries in a trenchcoat, and honestly that’s not far off! It is pretty difficult to say “all Americans are x” when conditions in Alabama and Colorado can be literal opposite ends of the spectrum.

Even the “red state” and “blue state” generalizations can be pretty misleading— take Colorado again, for example. Colorado is widely considered a “blue/liberal state” because of the large high-population density progressive cities on the front range of the Rocky Mountains where most of the residents of the state are. However, this discounts the fact that in the rest of the rural areas of the state, especially the eastern half bordering Kansas, attitudes and policies are much more conservative.

Here’s a map that might be illustrative:

These are Colorado’s 8 congressional districts. Congressional districts are required to have approximately equal levels of population—therefore, you have geographically tiny districts in population centers and geographically large districts in rural areas. So the ENTIRE purple portion of District 3? That has the SAME number of people living in it as the tiny district 1 that contains the capitol of Denver. I’ll add another layer— despite Colorado being a “blue state,” that purple district is represented by Lauren Boebert, a notable MAGA conservative. So really, even in Colorado it’s hard to generalize and say “all Coloradans are x” because no they’re not—you have a variety even in the same state.

If you want to get EVEN more in the weeds, you can have wildly different types of demographics even within Congressional districts.

Here’s the map for Colorado’s 6th congressional district, currently represented by Jason Crow, a Democrat.

This district includes the city of Aurora— known for being a highly diverse area that has a high refugee population. You might also know the city of Aurora for being the site of the 2012 theatre shooting as well as being the home of Elijah McClain, a young African-American man murdered by police officers in 2019. So this Congressional district contains a large POC population and is not homogeneous. But this district is also interesting in that it also encompasses the WEALTHIEST CITY IN THE STATE, the 96% white Cherry Hills Village— which, considering Colorado has highly wealthy mountain resort towns like Aspen and Vail, is saying quite a lot. And this city is mere miles away from Aurora, where economic outcomes tend to be very different. Yet they are in the same Congressional district— so even on a local level its hard to make sweeping generalizations about most things and say “this is the one number or set of numbers that represents everything for everyone.”

Now imagine situations like this in every state and every congressional district across America. There is, of course, a place for large statistics, but such wide generalizations especially with context removed really don’t say much of anything unless you’re a data analyst studying something specific. It is hard to say definitively, especially on national data, that all Americans are a certain thing. This isn’t just an American problem with statistics, of course, not all people in any given country or population are going to be the same. Generalizing statistics can be good at a VERY broad overview that represent things worth conducting more specific crosscutting analysis to form more specific conclusions. However, a lot of people tend to view large stats as ways of stereotyping or confirming biases about groups of people in a way that SEEMS scientific or data based. They remove all context or specific crosstabs that actually paint a more accurate, but often messier, picture.

Big clean numbers are nice. But they rarely tell the full story or allow for nuance.

[artdcnaldson]

THANK YOU FOR MATCHING MY FREAK

You’re art’s sister and are like 2-3 years younger. You meet Patrick when you’re 12 and he comes to your house during summer break to visit Art. You’ve always had a crush on him and he knows you well enough to consider you a friend you know, but at that time you’re still just Art’s little sister.

Flash forward couple years, Art is out of college and with Patrick on tour (they never have a falling out in this AU) and both of them are like 24. You’re 21/22 and freshly out of college and well you want to take a gap year before finding a job. You felt like you didn’t really experience in college yk. Constantly studying and never even really went out. Kissed a couple guys but sadly still a virgin and quite frankly embarrassed.

You decide its a great idea to travel. I mean what’s not to like! Get to see new places, except your family doesn’t have the money to let you galavant anywhere you want and you’re a broke college grad, so you’re stuck traveling on your big brother on tour. Not that you don’t love him, Art’s a great brother, it just isn’t what you planned….until you realize Patrick is there too.

When you finally meet up with them, you realize Patrick has just gotten hotter. More of a man now at 24 and well you’re not the shy little kid you were anymore. You’re 22 and know what you want. And well you don’t know if you’re beautiful (patrick already thinks so but shhh you don’t know that) but you do think with the right clothes and attitude you could get him interested (he already is but again shhh you don’t know that).

So yeah you decide you don’t really need to wear bras anymore and that tiny little lacey panties are soooooo much better for you. Short skirts or the long white ones that are kinda see through in sun or any bright light are your favorites. And little tiny tight tops. You always make sure to give Patrick hugs after his games and always compliment him. Looking up at him with big eyes.

Patrick notices. God he notices. He knows what you’re up to. When you’re drunk you whisper about how much you want him and how you touch yourself thinking about him and how no one’s ever had you like that and that you wants him to be the one who does. He’s not surprised at this, Art’s repressed as fuck so yeah of course you are too (he blames the catholic upbringing but thats a different story). What he is surprised tho is how much you want it…how much hr wants you…god he wants to completely defile you. In every way possible. Fucking claim you in a way you’re begging him to do so. He swears he isn’t possessive but the thought of any one else with you starts to bug him too. You’re just so sweet and need someone right for you :( not some random douche :( someone who’d treat you right :( and fuck you right :( God he wants you so bad…it’s just you’re Art’s sister.

- 🫀

EXACTLYYYYY EXACTLYY

Art notices something is up, gets a little protective, the way a good big brother should. He starts carrying an extra jacket in his car specifically so he can give it to you when you’re out with the two of them, to cover up how short your skirt is.

He sees how you go to Patrick whenever you can, how you cling to his side and look at him all starry-eyed and sweet.

“You need to tell her you aren’t interested,” Art tells Patrick one night, when they’re brushing their teeth in a hotel bathroom. You’re across the hall, blissfully unaware of what your brother is doing.

Patrick could just agree, could tell him he’d never go for his best friend’s sister, and that he’d tell you to leave him alone. But he’s nothing if not an asshole.

“What if I am interested?” The words are spoken around a mouthful of foamy toothpaste that he spits into the sink. “Your sister’s hot, she wants me, clearly. She could do worse.”

Art shoves him, which makes Patrick grin. “Fuck you. I’ve seen how you get with women. I’ve been on the other side of the door and heard it. If you ever even look at her the wrong way, I will break your fucking knees.”

Patrick leans against the wall, his lips twitching into a grin. “That could be good. I’d be all bedridden and weak. She could take advantage of me, make me submit to her perverted desires.”

Art groans, meets his gaze. “I’m serious, Pat. Tell me you’re going to put a stop to it, or I’ll have to make her go home.”

“Alright,” he says, putting his hands up. “I’ll tell her to knock it off.”

But what can he do when Art’s taken some pretty girl at the bar back to the hotel? when you’re drunk off of sweet girly drinks and it’s just the two of you? When you’re batting your lashes at him, telling him how handsome he looks, that you want to kiss him so bad, want him to touch your— but you can’t say it, you’re looking down, all shy.

But you’re not shy enough that you can’t tell him that you’re not wearing a bra, that you’re not wearing panties. That you want him so bad it’s hurting and you just need him to make it feel better. That no one’s ever touched you before, but you think he should be the first. That the first time you played with yourself it was after you watched one of his matches.

Jesus fucking Christ. He gets a glass of water, makes you drink it all in front of him, then makes you drink another. You follow on wobbly legs as he walks you back to the hotel, keeps a nice firm hand on your wrist.

You’re beaming when he brings you to your room, start clumsily stripping off your dress. He has to turn around when your dress pools on the floor, has to physically cover his eyes so he’s not tempted to turn around.

“Jesus, put some fucking pajamas on.”

“Pattttt—“ you whine. But when he doesn’t move you obey. He can see your nipples through the tin tank top, but it’s better than nothing, literally.

“C’mere, let’s get you ready for bed.”

He sits you on the counter in the bathroom, wipes off your makeup carefully. You groan, press your forehead against his as a wave of nausea hits. You smell sweet, like vanilla, but mostly like liquor. He holds your hair while you vomit, wipes at your teary eyes and says it’s fine, he’s seen worse. He’s been worse.

And then you’re crying, saying you like him so much and you wish you could just have him— that he’s so nice to you it hurts in your chest like you can’t breathe. He thinks it’s sweet, but you’re just drunk.

He brushes your teeth, carries you to the bed. Slides the hotel trashcan next to the bed, just in case. And he shouldn’t, but he leans down and kisses your forehead too.

“Please don’t leave, Pat. I feel sick.”

He sighs, texts Art. Full disclosure, I’m staying in your sister’s room so she doesn’t choke on her own vomit. Have fun with the room tonight bro.

He falls asleep sitting up in the armchair by the TV, and the two of you notably don’t talk about it the next morning.

[geeks-universe]

@ladylemon27 : Hey! Could you make a head-cannon for All Might having a secret family with a loving wife reader?^^

[Not me actually working on an All Might x Reader fic rn actively writing the part where he finds out his wife is pregnant 🤠]

For years, in interviews and on forums, people have wondered about All Might’s love life. He was, after all, the most desirable man in Japan, maybe even the world.

Before you met him, you’d been a little bit curious. After your first encounter during a particularly brutal fight with a villain, your curiosity had died down. (Mostly because he was an absolute dork who had stumbled over his words in an attempt to flirt.)

It seemed fate wanted the two of you to meet again and again, as nearly half of all fights you’d gotten into with villains were interrupted by the boisterous laughter of one Symbol of Peace. Years later, Toshi would admit that he’d definitely been maybe keeping a specific eye out for any mention of you, in hopes of working up the courage to ask you on a date. You’d fallen even more in love with him when he told you.

It only took a dozen or so meetings before he finally asked. You’d laughed- only because the idea that the number one hero wanted to date you of all people was absurd- before the dejected look on his face had you explaining your thoughts. He’d been so quick to assure you, to tell you how highly he thought of you, that how could you ever say no to a date now?

Your relationship blossomed from there. One date turned to two turned to nearly everyday. Before you knew it, you were engaged. The wedding was a beautiful ode to your love, even if it was all done in secret.

You found out you were pregnant three days after Toshi had been gravely injured in his fight with All for One. Those initial days had been hell, the threat of death nearly constant. You’d been by his side every second of every day, and it wasn’t until you’d quite literally fainted on the third day from a mix of exhaustion and the unknown pregnancy, that the doctors had discovered the little miracle growing inside you.

You didn’t tell Toshi until weeks later, once he was no longer critical and the likelihood of him dying had passed. He’d been so concerned at first, and then overjoyed.

Life after his injury had looked different, but was no less full of love. He’d held you a little closer, his kisses lingered a little longer, but he was still the same heroic man he’d always been, even if his self-confidence stumbled some days. He took to calling you his pillar then, beyond thankful of the support you gave him everyday.

When your little miracle arrived- a little boy who looked damn near identical to Toshi- he had cried harder than he’d ever in his life. He held you to his chest, staring down at the tiny life you’d created together. He’d made a promise then, that Sir Nighteye couldn’t be right, that he would live a long life, if only to see his son grow into a man that would make you proud.

[dollypopup]

that 'have you ever been punished as a child?' line Pen drops hits different when you realize that in the books, Colin was horsewhipped by his father the morning before he died and then went to Eton where they literally had something called 'flogging Fridays' during the time he attended

like Julia, Miss. Quinn, what do you mean you just threw that information in as a random throwaway line that is never mentioned again? do you not realize how WILD that makes Colin's background?

He was twelve years old??? His dad saw him hitting Eloise and then horsewhipped him, and after horsewhipping his twelve. year. old. son. he then goes to comfort Eloise by taking a walk with her and the bee stings him and he fucking dies

Colin would be out here blaming himself for that death forever are you kidding me???? Wondering if he didn't hit his sister (when they're children playing together), would his Dad still be alive? Would he still have gone on that walk? Would he still have passed away as Colin sat sobbing in the stables, hurt by his hand?

And then he goes to Eton where the only time he had off was 3 weeks around Christmas, but still has to stay there, and 3 weeks in the summer when he can finally go home to Aubrey Hall?

This timeline is BONKERS. Like. . .we know Edmund dies not too long before Hyacinth is born, and she's born May/June. Colin's birthday? Yeah, it's in March. So you mean to tell me, the order of events of all this mess could be as followed: Edmund horsewhips Colin when he's 12 years old (sometime before March), he DIES that same day, Colin turns 13 (in March), Hyacinth is born (in June), and not a few months later Colin has to go to Eton (after the summer break. Social season is Spring and Summer, and ends either July or August, so let's be merciful here and say he leaves in August) and doesn't come back for an entire year?

You mean to tell me this boy has had what? Half a year to get over his father's death after he whipped him for a minor infraction and then he's waltzing into an institution where canings and whippings and floggings and bullying are the norm when he's a teeny tiny little boy?

How is this man not filled to the GILLS with trauma???? No wonder he's so close to his mum and listens to the women around him more than the men and never talks about his dad. And he still turns out so nice and empathetic and kindhearted? He still listens so much to Pen and is so gentle with her and has a good sense of humor and cares so deeply?

That man is never raising a hand to their children. He probably won't even raise his voice at their children. Oh my god.

[willowrites]

can you do a smut where y/n has a of and colby finds out

smile for the camera

PAIRINGS. colby brock x fem reader

SUMMARY. it’s the very beginning of your and colby’s relationship and there’s a tiny little something you haven’t told him about your job…

WARNINGS. smut, fem!masturbation, oral f!receiving, colby talking you through it!!!

AUTHORS NOTE. thank you this was a very different request but i was sooo into it 🤤 sorry its so short and also i’m so so sorry for being mia again, i took a trip to mexico and came back with the WORST stomach bug but i’m back! 💝

WORD COUNT. 1.1k

…and record.

you sat back down on your silk sheets on top of your bed. vibrator in one hand and your other propping you up against your camera.

you turned the vibrator on hearing the familiar buzz of the toy.

you made eye contact with the camera lens then made contact between the vibrator and your clit.

you lightly placed it on your clit; hips jolting at the sensation.

“fuck..” you whispered.

you close your eyes, imagining a certain man in between your legs. lips on your sensitive spot sucking and biting.

you pressed the vibrator even harder on your clit.

you groaned at how strong but how good it felt.

“mmm…please.” you begged to no one but your imagination.

you felt yourself get riled up. the feeling, it was so fucking good. you were starting to become overwhelmed by the pleasure.

you were so close. you felt it. you open your eyes to give the viewers more before your orgasm hits you.

“yes yes yes.” you whispered.

right there…

right fucking there…

right-

you heard a door slam.

your eyes widened.

colby.

“shit shit shit.” the vibrator on your clit felt so fucking good. just a few more seconds…

you heard his steps coming up the stairs.

“please please…” you moaned.

then it hit you. the wave of pleasure taking over your body.

you pressed the vibrator further on your clit riding out your orgasm.

you heard the doorknob jiggle and before you knew it…it opened.

“hey, baby- i-” he stopped in his tracks as he saw you. you had thrown a sheet over the bottom half of your body but leaving uncovered the top part of your lingerie-covered body. “holy shit.”

“i didn’t know you were coming home early.” you gulped.

“yeah…we ended early.” he surveyed the room, and then his eyes returned to you.

the silence couldn’t have been louder.

“so what were you doing…” he walked further into the room.

“uh…” you paused. your eyes flicked to the camera that you had propped up against a pile of blankets then back to him. “nothing…”

“y/n…” he dragged out while walking on your left side, his right. “you can tell me what…”

his voice shortly stopped as he laid his eyes on the camera.

you looked at him then afterwards avoided contact.

“were you…recording yourself?” he had a small grin on his face.

“no! i um…i mean maybe i uh…” you stuttered. fuck just tell him y/n.

you looked at him then the camera.

“yeah…i was. for um…” you sat up straight. “i was going to tell you this…i have an only fans.”

his mouth slowly opened.

“and…and believe me when i say that i really was going to tell you but i didn’t know what you’d think. and i should’ve told you before we started like dating i just-” you kept ranting but he interrupted you.

“baby, it’s okay.” he set his stuff down and sat down beside you. “i’m not judging you at all.” his arm went up to your bra strap.

your breathing became heavier the closer he got to you. “are you sure? i can stop if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

he completely disregards your question and asks you a question. “what were you doing before i walked in?” he whispered. “were you filming?”

you lightly frowned. “i was yeah…” you said quietly observing how colby’s hand made his way toward your upper thigh.

“what were you filming yourself doing?” he got closer until he was kissing your shoulder.

“i-i- was just um…” you lost your breath.

“just say it.” his hand came up to your chin tilting your neck more to give him more access to it.

“i was touching myself.” you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“yeah? did u come?” he kissed up to your ear nibbling.

“yes.” you felt slightly guilty admitting that you made yourself have an orgasm from a vibrator but at the same time, you wanted to see what colby would do about it.

“did it feel good? better than my touch?” his hand inched up your thigh getting closer to where you needed him most.

“might need a reminder to answer that…” you were leaning closer to colby’s face looking at him and searching his eyes.

he raised his brow before taking the camera then getting up and connecting it to the line tripod that was set at the corner of the room.

“yeah? alright then, if i need to show you. i’m going to get it on camera.” he laughed but had no humor. he clicked the bottom igniting the red little dot on the camera signifying that it was filming.

he then rushed back toward you grabbing you by the neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

he immediately took dominance.

he pushed you back onto the bed grabbing both your hands in his and holding both over your head with only his right hand. “you’re okay with this?” he gestured toward the tripod.

you nodded connecting both your lips. you made out for a few minutes, the situation getting heavier and heavier.

afterward, he then connected his lips to your neck muttering, “can i take these off?” gesturing toward your lacy panties.

“mhm.” you nodded eagerly.

he quickly ripped them off so then nothing was between your bare skin and his clothed print.

you grunted feeling the burn from the material being pulled away from your body.

“wanna see me make you feel good? think i can’t do it?” he panted letting go of your hands so that he could move his mouth downward moving closer toward where you ached.

“mmmmm, we’ll see.” you were breathless and couldn’t help but flinch as he dove right in putting his tongue on your clit. “oh god.”

you squirmed under him still sensitive from the orgasm you had earlier.

“no come on baby you can take it.” he spoke against your sensitive spot. the sensation bringing chills all over your body.

your legs were starting to shake the more time passed by.

you already felt yourself about to hit that edge.

your chest moving up and down as you took deep breaths awaiting the pleasure that was about to hit you.

you looked down and saw colby with his eyes closed licking your juices up. it was that view that had your orgasm crashing into you. as he heard you moaning his name he went faster and faster helping you ride your orgasm out.

once time passed by you’ve had enough and we’re becoming way too sensitive.

“too much, baby?” his heavy breath hit between your thighs.

“mhm.” your body was limp as he crawled back up connecting your lips in a chaste kiss.

“can’t wait to watch this back.” he whispered.

you had totally forgotten he was recording…

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 38

chapter 57:

1. starting out with gay panic i see. not for pandora, but for me. good lily is SO HOT

2. lily and remus’ freindship is pure angst atm

3. “I love you, Lily, then and now and the past six years and the next six and all the years I've got in this life. All of them will be spent loving you, and I would do it all over again; I would do it tomorrow.” 😧 IM IN SO MUCH PAIN

4. the loss of dorlily 😔😔 BUT we we lost in dorlily, we gained in marylily and dorlene

5. i love the emphasis put on the importance of freindships in crimson rivers. remus even says himself that he loves lily just as much as sirius, just differently

6. “"You know, Red, I feel like I need to go shake Remus Lupin's hand," Kingsley says dryly. "He's working miracles, clearly."” kingsley is showing KING behavior

7. omg the absolute LOSS OF DORLILY

8. damn lily went to mary and spilled everything

9. “Regulus is snatched out of his near-daily daydream of taking Slughorn by the back of his head and smashing his face down against the table he sits at until he's just a smear on it” MOOD

10. barty and regulus taking care of each other >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

11. I WANT SIRIUS TO BE ABLE TO TAKE THE MASK OFF!!! FUCK THIS!!

12. SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES SIRIUS AND JAMES

chapter 58:

1. “He's not above killing an old man” 🥰🥰💞💖💞✨regulus✨💞💖💞🥰🥰

2. WHAT

3. albus killed ariana. that’s- that’s wild. i’d- i’d never. holy shit. HE KILLED HIS OWN SISTER TO WIN THE ARENA?? THEY WERE THE LAST TWO AND HE KILLED HER??? holy FUCK

4. ALBUS VOLUNTEERED FOR ABERFORTH FIRST AND THEN ARIANNA WAS CALLED???? ID NEVER FREAKING RECOVER HOLY SHIT

5. this is such whiplash. i was unprepared for this knowledge

6. 😐😒 side EYE at albus. he fell in love with the person that literally tore his family apart. i don’t feel sorry for him in the slightest. he’s insane.

7. OHHH got it. grindlewald killed ariana. so then albus killed him. revenge >:)

(i still have no sympathy for him. he’s still in love with grindlewald. the little bitch)

8. regulus does not play around. his deal with albus is feeling a lot like his ahb self and i’m love with these characterizations of him.

9. 😭😭😭 tiny nymphadora kicking a man’s ankles for hating on james

10. dumbledore: i have a mission for you-

remus: fuck no

dumbledore: to save james and sirius

remus: FUCK YES! OKAY!!!!

11. before i know if dorcas and marlene switched who goes on the mission, i make my guess right now: this mission kills marlene. she goes on it and dies.

12. “"I'd rather you kill me, I think," Dorcas tells her, and it comes out as a whimper, her heart clenching violently in her chest.

A shaky laugh spills out of Marlene's mouth. "Honestly, that could be arranged."

"Make it hurt," Dorcas mumbles.

"No, for you, I'd be so gentle," Marlene whispers, breath spilling out hot and trembling along Dorcas' jaw.””

FUCK IM SO GAY

13. “"I promise," Marlene vows immediately, fiercely, and then she kisses her, holding her face in her hands and kissing her like that's enough to make sure that promise never breaks.”” zar, i’m so tired. please, i’m so tired. she’s gonna die and i’m so tired. 😞

14. the theme of harry potter is literally supposed to be about how love is more powerful than anything else, yet jkr sucked at portraying that. crimson rivers does it wonderfully, over and over and over again.

15. i forgot about mary being trans until it was casually dropped in again, and honestly, i’m glad it’s that way.

16. i like how everyone’s like: reg no!!!

and bartys like: REG YES!! THEYRE TALKING SHIT ABOUT YOUR FIANCÉ!! FUCK THEM UP!!

17. every. damn. time. reg is like “if you do this, i am explicitly telling you the pain i will make you feel in return.” and every single time, people do it anyways and are surprised.

18. “Marlene, a woman who rolls with the punches, and keeps going, and wears her bruises like jewelry.”

19. zars comments on lily at the end of the chapter 😭😭 “i love this transition for her going from having sex with a lot of women to being like I'm A Family Woman Now 😭 she really said, i found a wife and a kid, and im done with the drama”

[nomsfaultau]

(Potentially) daily ask №9

Random scenarios edition!

Everyone in the fault crew suddenly turns fully human. No special abilities, no nothing. So Wilbur doesn't have the void thing anymore and has a fixed height. Tommy doesn't have the red anymore. Philza turns completely human with no ability to turn back to a dragon or a god anymore, also mortal now. Blade gets the pink hair anime girl-like fanon C!Techno design, with blood god getting a new vessel (some sword. Which is now sentient and posessed by him.) and the voices just getting wrecked along with the blood god. Tubbo gets turned human (system still stays though), and if they don't have any prosthetics then their legs get magically restored as well just cause it'd be cruel not to cause their only option would be to yk crawl. What would happen after?

Ace attorney aka the court game. Tommy's the one getting sued and the rest of the crew serve as the lawyers, and they're standing against all the prosecutors in the game at the same time for funsies. Alternatively if you don't know the characters of ace attorney, you can put Tubbo and Phil as the lawyers, Tommy as the suspect and Wilbur and Techno as the persecutors. Who would win assuming that murder and mind control isn't allowed in court?

They have to make a high school group project/presentation for whatever reason. The project is on sharks. Just different kinds of sharks. Tommy seems like the guy who'd like sharks. How well does it go?

1.Wilbur is having a CRISIS. This is everything it always longed for and refused to admit it wanted. This whole tangle of jealousy, envy, discrimination, self loathing, and now it's just exploded. Wilbur's brain probably breaks for awhile, doesn't know how to handle being very suddenly confronted with his self deception. Wildly running hope and hatred in nearly equal measures. I don't think it would ever get over the oppression at the hands of humans even once it had privileged.

Techno is also having a crisis for funnier reasons, since bruhh he's a bishōnen now?? Where's the muscle? Where's the FAT?? He's utterly baffled with how weak and tiny he is. Really likes how small his metabolism is now tho, since he has to put in wayyy less effort given he needs like 2% of the calorie intake he used to have (rough estimate I've done a lot of math over how much this man needs to eat but can't recall atm). And he has fingers. Like proper fingers!! He can TOUCH AND FEEL THINGS. And COMPLETE BODILY AUTONOMY! Take THAT! Meanwhile The Blood God is desperately trying to get the sword destroyed so that it can escape and get a better vessel because it did NOT agree to this! ...but also wouldn't kill you, because The Blood God's relationship to The Blade was not what it'd hoped it'd be.

I'm going to say Tubbo has prosthetics now since instant magic healing without consent has a history of uh connotations. Plus now they can actually go to a hospital and get proper prosthetics, although probably not without a lot of medical hassle. I don't think Tubbo would actually know how to move their body like at all? Since their previous method of movement was so alien from muscles. The human Hive members would help in that sense, and probably front a lot for awhile while Tubbo tries to figure that out since they don't know how to speak or eat or

Philza is having a panic attack on the floor because he's not immortal anymore and that is a LOT to deal with for a man who is ~4 billion years old. He's probably going to handle this the worst of everyone. Also shaken deeply by the fact he'll die before his children do, unable to protect them. That he has to pay mind to pain now, not just push past for the sake of his Collected. Philza is...probably not going to ever recover tbh. He's familiar with grieving for others, but never for himself.

Tommy is psyched as hell and hugging everyone. Pretty similar to the bracelet ask. Plus now the Foundation has no reason to study him, right? ...right? (the Foundation will be going insane about this new development, and will probably have a very easy time capturing them now. Everyone would be released afterwards....but probably amnesticized to hell and back.)

2. I have ~some familiarity with Ace Attorney, given Mandatory Family Reunion turns into a surprise crossover with it for like two chapters. Turns out Edgeworth and Quackity are PEAK comedy duo. ...And technically Tommy does go on trial in Fault, though it's halfway between that and a confessional with Rhodes acting as judge jury and...not executioner, since that was Tommy's job in the Foundation 😬. I think Tommy would be terrible on stand, and at some point just start cussing Edgeworth out. I imagine 'muffin' censorship would pop up like hold it and objection bubbles. Tubbo is tearing their hair out because the ace attorney system is NOTHING like an actual court room and Rhodes is really enraged at the injustice of it. I think Wilbur could have fun on the investigation side of things, and Philza could be the teen anime girl sidekick of the week whose random anecdotes about old immortal stuff helps solve the case. The Blade only believes in the second amendment so he's probably just eating popcorn and plans to break out Tommy when he inevitably loses. Because well the guys and flies would certainly try but the ace attorney courts are hellish. Franziska's whip probably got ate by Wilbur, which is good before it triggered The Blood God. Tubbos' near omnipresence could probably really prove how corrupt Debeste is. Manfred Von Karma....'s body turns up in a dirty alley oh noooo welp can't be helped it happened outside the court 🤷

3. Tommy declares himself the group leader and tries to boss everyone around to some success, since he does have a talent for ringleading, but there's definitely a lot of bickering and teasing that are not the mark of an effective leader. Wilbur doesn't know what a school project is but will provide eldritch sharks and can probably speak Evil Shark which would involve turning his mouth into that of a sharks, which they use for demonstrations during the presentation. The Blade adores procrastinating. But also he's beaten up a shark before probably, Cali boy and all that, so bonus points for personal experience. Philza is fairly goal orientated and wants them to do well and kinda carries the group tbh. But also he mixes in historically believed myths about sharks oops. Tubbo is insanely good at multi-tasking but the dyslexia makes research more painful. Tubbo pushes for a (much needed) extension on the project deadline on the basis of disabillity accommodations and thus is the sole reason it's completed before the due date. It's not informative but it is a very entertaining project. B-

[fruzdin]

[forecast0ctopus]

i knwo a lot of people like the aos cadet and dress uniforms but i do Not and am actively trying to think up alternatives…… with tos kirk though lmao sorry

[zincbart]

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

This is a piece I made inspired by the upcoming @bdubszine !! I'm super excited for it so I went all-in creating my first ever non-animatic fanart!

Click for quality!

[jerswayman]

i think we all know it's you who never wants to leave brando