#bright and early for the daily races

[doodleous]

dull morning commute

[re-discover-communication]

Wednesday lunch

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Education

I'm always asked what sort of education different people recieve throughout different historical eras and since I'm heading back to college soon, I thought it was high time I made this guide.

Disparity

Education is viewed as a right by many but for some and thoughout history it was a privilege. For the wealthy and those of high status, education can be easily accessed. They can afford to tailor an education to fit their needs, they can hire tutors, and they can afford tuitions to top schools. For the poor, education was a luxury. However this doesn't mean that it was available. Some communities would fund a school or send their children to a local teacher - usually they had to pay a daily fee or at least bring kindling for the heating. Many poorer children also worked so they could not attend school consistently or were pulled out very early into their education. However, some poorer students could gain access to high level education if they were extremely bright or caught the attention of a wealthy benefactor who could fund their education.

Education as a Weapon

Education could also be banned for certain groups in society. It could be illegal to fund schools or host gatherings for students of a certain background, race, religion or gender. Education against the law could be punished by imprisonment, exile or execution. This is a measure usually taken by oppressive governments in order to follow a moral code or restrict the betterment of a certain group. An example would be the Irish Catholics under the Penal Laws.

On the otherhand, there is education that is influenced by the state to inject certain values, moralities and Opinions into a population. This is the intense restriction of reading material, removal of books that contest the teachings of the government or the kidnap of children from their culture, in order to forcibly educated them in alignment to their beliefs. An example would be the residental schools of North America and Canada and the AHS schools of Nazi Germany.

Content

As above, content of what children learn usually falls into a certain category. This is also true for the education offered to the wealthy and the poor. The poor would be offered a basic education, learning literacy and arithmetic, usually with an expectation that the children would not go on to any jobs that needs a broader education. Any higher education would be hard to obtain because of cost and the discriminatory view of the enrollment panels. The wealthy would have access to an array of different subjects including: The arts (drawing, music, painting, poetry, dancing), sports (riding, martial skills, rowing, hunting), arithmetic, geography, languages, geography and history. While progression to higher education will still be difficult, any affluent families are legacies of prestigious colleges or can make a donation to grease a few palms. These schools would be where the wealthy make lifelong connections and get springboarded toward opportunities.

Private Tutoring

Whilst some affluent, aristocratic and Royal families send their children to schools, private tutoring in the home was a popular choice. Children would be educated at home but tutors who either lived in the home or come to the house. The children would be educated alongside siblings or the children of courtiers or neighbours. Private tutoring sessions would often be the only education for upper class women recieved, taught by governesses and tutors.

Premises and Equipment

As mentioned above, wealthy and aristocratic families would usually attend established schools or attend school at home. They would be provided any equipment they needed. If they attend school, they would often wear a uniform. Some schools had multiple variations of the uniform for different activities. Many of the schools attended would be boarding schools. Boarding schools offered education to those who boarded and day students, however day students were often looked down upon as lesser than.

Poorer schools would be relient on donations and fees paid by students. As mentioned above, there may be a building reserved for classes - sometimes an designated schoolhouse or a teacher's home or a public building such as a gathering house or sometimes even outside - hedge schools. Equipment would be provided by the school. Uniforms at poorer schools were not a thing but students were expected to show up neat and tidy.

Corporal Punishment

Corporal punishment at schools was the go to punishment for students. Teachers had free rein to strike children for mistakes and bad behaviour. Punishments include insolation, physical stress positions such as standing on a chair all day, getting objects thrown at them, being slapped on the back of the legs with a cane, being rapped on the palms or knuckles with a crop or ruler. Students may also be humiliated by teachers through the use of dunce hats, encouraging other children to bully them or by the use of verbal abuse. Corporal punishment did extend to all classes except for royal children since that was either taken by proxy by whipping boys or left up to parents.

[vivwritesfics]

Comatose

Second part to THIS blurb

Lando stayed in the hospital for days on end. He gave Y/N updated and told her about the items she had received from fans while she was in the hospital.

The grid came to visit in groups of two or three. Oscar and Logan came together, Alex and George (who now drove for Sauber). Yuki, Pierre and Charles came to visit together, as did Carlos and Lewis. Max and Daniel went together, and Oscar arrived with Fernando Alonso.

"How you holding up?" Asked Oscar as he gave Lando the food she brought him.

Lando took the bag and looked through it. His favourites. Oscar really had become one of his best friends since their first season together. "No change," he answered.

No change wasn't a bad thing. It meant she wasn't getting any worse, but she wasn't getting any better. The nurses would assure Lando daily that she was bound to wake up soon.

Soon meant a week.

It was a full week that Y/N was in a coma. Lando never lost hope. He cried frustrated tears in the early hours of the morning when he was alone, but he never lost hope.

The grid visited when they could, but they soon had to fly off to the next grand prix. Y/N couldn't go (obviously), and Lando refused to leave her side, so Mercedes and McLaren both had to pull in their reserve drivers for the weekend.

Suddenly, Y/N stirred. Her head rolled to the side and her eyes slowly opened. The light in the room had her squeezing her eyes shut yet again. Y/N slowly opened them once more, letting them adjust to the bright, white room.

"Lan?" She croaked, looking to the chair beside her bed.

Lando jumped to his feet. he had never moved to fast before, coming to sit at her side. "Baby," he said grabbing a hold of her hand. "You're okay." He let out a relieved sigh, brushing her hair out of her face. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit, what happened?"

Lando had watched the video maybe a thousand times while he waited for Y/N to wake up. He'd gone over it time and time again, watching it zoomed in and in slow motion.

"You had a collision with another driver and the car spun out," he said.

"Oh," Y/N said. It was rather embarrassing, especially with Lando's lack of context. It was her first race and it had put her in a coma; she wouldn't be surprised if Mercedes wanted to drop her now.

Lando pressed a kiss to the top of her head and jumped from the bed. He ran off to get a nurse.

***

Y/N walked into the Mercedes garage, her boyfriend at her side. The first person to greet her was Lewis Hamilton. The seven time world champion pulled her in for a hug and placed his hand on her shoulder as he asked who she was.

And then Y/N moved onto her team principle. "Hey, Toto," she muttered as he pulled her into his side.

"How are you doing, Y/N?" He asked as he walked her over to her side of the garage, which Mick Schumacher was currently occupying. Mick, who was equally as worried for the driver he was replacing.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "Definitely better than a few days ago," she answered. A few days ago was when she woke up, dazed and confused. "But I can't wait to get back in the car."

Toto frowned. "Do you know when you'll be good to go?"

"Doctor said three weeks, but I'll be in the sim until I'm back on the track."

Toto laughed at her. "Good to have you back, Y/N."

Taglist: @papayatifosi @eviethetheatrefreak @azuravoguelh

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: olfactophilia

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

olfactophilia: a paraphilia for, or sexual arousal by, smells and odors emanating from the body, especially the sexual areas.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

If you had to choose one word to describe yourself, in your current situation… Goodness, it was hard. Pathetic? Disgusting? Perverted, deranged, insane? You heard Seungmin's voice in your head, calling you names. Calling you a dirty little slut, scoffing at you, torn between a look of utter disgust and an excited smirk. Just the thought turned you on - you wanted him to look down on you. You deserved to be looked down upon.

Nice girls touched themselves while thinking of their boyfriends fucking them. Normal girls closed their eyes and let their imagination do its job, their hand working away between their legs. You? You held your boyfriend's dirty shirt up to your face, sniffing desperately below the arm hole, inhaling the bitter scent of his sweat like it was fucking crack. If only he could see you now.

"What do we have here?"

Your legs snapped shut, dropping his shirt instantly. "Y-You weren't supposed to be home this early-"

He raised an eyebrow at you, ignoring your comment and stepping into the bedroom. "Is this what you do when you're alone? Sniff at my dirty things like a dog?"

"I just - I was getting off, and… I wanted to feel closer to you. Wanted to smell you." Your cheeks were bright red. Being caught naked was one thing. Being caught masturbating was another level. But being caught doing this? A vice of shame wrapped around your chest, making your heart race, and your clit throb.

Seungmin approached the bed, holding your face gently and smiling down at you. "Aww, baby. That's so pathetic, it's almost sweet."

You looked up at him, wide-eyed, almost drunk on his scent.

"I knew you were dirty but I had no idea you were into this. You like the way I smell, baby?"

"Mhmm." You nodded.

"Y'know, I was really looking forward to fucking you when I got home," Seungmin said, sly smile on his lips. He stroked back your hair, looking into your eyes. "But you seem so fucked out already. You don't even need my dick, do you? You just want to smell me?"

You couldn't help but whine at the mention of his dick. "Seungie - no - I still want-"

"Shh," he hushed you. "It's okay. You don’t need it, okay? You only need my scent."

He spoke so firmly you didn’t dare argue. You nodded meekly, watching as he pulled off his shirt. He climbed atop you, straddling your frame as you lay on the bed beneath him.

Seungmin’s smile was sweet, but it was dripping with condescension. “Go on. I know how desperate you are. Keep touching yourself.” You did as he asked, slowly circling your clit and holding back a whimper as you stared back into his eyes. You felt warm under his gaze, all hot and shy.

In daily life you felt so comfortable around Seungmin; you two had been together for a while, and he made you feel so bold, so self-confident. But in the bedroom? You felt so small beneath his stare, such a stupid, pathetic baby. And, fuck, it got you wet.

"Close your eyes," he instructed. You followed his word, putting your trust in him, as you always did, and plunged yourself into darkness. "Now breathe."

You inhaled deeply. His armpit - you would know the scent anywhere. You let out a high-pitched moan, absolutely unintentionally. It was so overwhelming to your senses - you felt so completely surrounded by him. It was a bitter scent, the sweat he'd accumulated throughout the day, though the sweetness of his soap cut through it. It was all so utterly Seungmin, you could hardly take it. His armpit hairs tickled your nose, and you resisted the urge to nuzzle into the crevice.

"Seungie, you smell so good," you panted.

He let out an amused scoff. "I smell awful, baby, I've been working all day. You're just so whipped you love it anyway." He was right, without a doubt.

“Finger yourself for me, baby,” he instructed you, his voice barely above a whisper yet still so commanding.

You were practically trembling with arousal; you felt it coursing through your system like a poison, making your limbs shake and your heart pound. “H-How many fingers, Seungie?” you asked.

He let out a low chuckle. “Such a good girl for asking. Can you handle three?”

You currently had two fingers curled inside yourself - you added another. “Mhmm,” you confirmed. “Can handle anything you tell me - Seungie knows my limits better than I do.”

“That’s right, darling,” he confirmed. He sat up, and his scent left your nostrils. You opened your eyes, lips pursed in a sulky pout, ready to protest, before you saw Seungmin looking down at you lovingly. “You’re being so good today, baby, what’s happening?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I knew you liked it when I’m bratty, Seungmin! You want me to be naughty? I can start acting up, if you want.”

Seungmin couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Nah. I want my good girl today. You gonna keep being good? Or do I have to slap that smirk off your pretty little face?”

It was fun, being told off by your boyfriend - you would know, as it happened often. You loved acting out in bed. And equally, Seungmin loved putting you in your place. But in this moment, as he looked down at you with such warmth in his eyes, all you wanted was to behave for him. “I can be good,” you insisted, looking up at him earnestly.

“That’s my baby,” he said, stroking back your hair gently. “C’mon, touch your clit while you finger yourself.”

You nodded, complying immediately. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation, pleasure spreading outwards from the bundle of nerves. You stroked your clit in time with your fingers pumping, curling to hit your g-spot. You groaned. “Dick now, Seungmin? Please?”

“Aww, you want my dick?” he cooed, cocking his head at you. “How bad?”

“Don’t play with me, Seungie!” you whined.

“I thought you were being good today?” he asked, effectively shutting you up. “Here, baby - don’t stop touching yourself.” You watched as he climbed off you, standing up and unbuttoning his jeans. His cock sprung free, rock hard already.

“You’re hard already, Seungie? You like watching me get off? You like it when I smell you?”

He smirked. “Yeah, baby. You’re so fucking dirty today.” You let out a whimper at his words, still pumping at your g-spot. “You like being called dirty, hm? You like being my dirty, slutty little baby?” He was stroking his dick as he spoke, slowly, teasingly.

“Yeah, Seungmin, fuck,” you nodded, practically drooling upon seeing his member. You saw it every day, yet it never stopped blowing your mind. He had the prettiest dick in the world - you firmly believed that to be true. Perfect length, perfect girth. Perfectly pink tip, perfectly trimmed pubes at the base of his shaft. How the fuck did you get so lucky?

Seungmin returned to the bed, climbing atop you once more. Further up your chest this time, positioning his dick above your face. You opened your mouth instinctively, desperate to taste, silently pleading for the weight of his dick on your tongue, down your throat.

“Close your mouth, baby,” Seungmin spoke gently. “You don’t get to taste just yet.”

You whined, but followed his command once more, closing your mouth to form another sullen pout. You wanted his cock in your mouth more than anything, it was true, but your desires were somewhat fulfilled when he tapped the head of his dick on your cheek. You moaned aloud at the contact, still fucking yourself enthusiastically with your fingers. He gripped his dick at its base, swiping it across your face, smearing sticky precum across your lip. You immediately licked it up, savouring the saltiness on your tongue.

“Close your eyes, baby. Deep breath in.” Seungmin pressed the tip of his dick above your upper lip, below your nostrils. You did as he asked, inhaling sharply. The scent was dark, musky, undeniably him. “That good, honey?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you cried, sniffing at his cock as though it was your only source of oxygen. Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax approach. Three fingers pushing against your g-spot, another circling your clit, Seungmin’s dick overpowering your senses. “I’m gonna - ‘m gonna cum, Seungie-”

“Did I say you could?” he asked. You opened your eyes to find him looking down at you sternly.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, Seungmin, please-”

“No,” he told you. His tone was flat, telling you that there was no room for negotiation; you would not be coming. Not until he told you so.

He took his dick away from you, though before you could complain, he planted his balls on your face. They shook as he stroked his dick, pumping it with his fist, bouncing between your lips and nose.

“They smell good, baby?” he asked gently. You let out a muffled noise of affirmation, and he laughed down at you. “Gorgeous little slut.”

His moans and grunts met your ears as he pleasured himself, and each time you opened your eyes you saw his furrowed eyebrows, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. Looking at him, you’d say he was enjoying this as much as you were - more, maybe.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he spoke, his voice husky. You did so, opening wide and sticking your tongue out for him. His balls landed on your tongue, salty with sweat, and you licked at them eagerly. “There we go, baby, that’s it.”

You wrapped your lips around one of his heavy balls within the sack, sucking gently, swirling your tongue around it. Seungmin moaned loudly, and you watched as he used his spare hand to pinch his nipple. You heard his breaths pick up in tempo, the strokes of his cock grow more vigorous. You knew the rhythms of his body better than your own; he was getting close.

“You wanna let go, baby?” he asked. “You wanna cum with me?”

You moaned around his balls, and he knew to take that as a yes. You fucked yourself harder, borderline attacking your clitoris, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me,” he breathed. He pulled back, leaving your mouth empty.

“Seungie, fuck!”

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast, crashing into you like a bursting star. Seungmin let out a long, drawn-out moan, crying out your name. A splash of cum landed on your cheek, another on your lip, on your chin. You licked what you could reach, swallowing greedily.

“Thank you, Seungie,” you panted. He wiped your cheek with his finger, bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on it gratefully, and he moved to grab a tissue from the bedside table, cleaning up the excess.

“I had no idea you were into that,” he remarked with a laugh.

“I had no idea you were into that,” you fired back.

He shrugged, still grinning. “Me either, baby.”

[thegingerwrites]

I'm calling this "the grass isn't always greener au" and I'll probably never write it but it was stuck in my head today:

The Clone Wars are over, Palpatine is dead and the galaxy is more at peace than it has been in a lifetime. Anakin is no longer a Jedi. He has been living with Padmé and their children for two years now and everything is fine. Everything is definitely, absolutely fine.

And yet Anakin can't help but feel like he made some kind of mistake in leaving the Order when Padmé told him she was pregnant. He can't regret her or their children. He can't regret the fact that he no longer has to deflect blaster bolts on a daily basis. He can't regret peace.

But he does miss Obi-Wan. The ragged threads of their bond are still present in his mind when he can bring himself to sense them. (And he does, often, like picking at a scab or the empty cavity of a missing tooth. He prods at the empty space, making sure never to go far enough as to make Obi-Wan aware of it. He hasn't seen Obi-Wan in months). He misses having a purpose, a bright shining goal, the feeling of fulfilling his destiny even if the pursuit of that destiny aged him in ways he is still coming to terms with.

He was never the Jedi he should have been but now he is no longer a Jedi at all. And maybe if he had held himself together for just a little longer, he could still be one today.

The Force gives him the chance to find out.

Anakin wakes up in the body of Darth Vader, two years after the fall of the Republic, broken and in pain, fully invested in the power of the dark side.

He flees the Executor as soon as he can. Taking stock of his mechanical limbs, full-body burns, and life support suit, Anakin has no idea where he is or what has happened to him. But this is him, some alternate version of him. When he takes off the helmet and stares into his reflection in transparisteel window of his escape pod, he sees himself. Despite the changes, the burns, the eyes, he recognizes himself.

He seeks out Obi-Wan through the tenuous, broken bond in both of their minds. This may not be his world and this might not be his master, but Anakin knows he could find Obi-Wan anywhere if he allows himself to reach out to that connection again.

Darth Vader appears on Obi-Wan's doorstep on Tatooine, begging for his help. It takes Obi-Wan time to understand what is happening but they sit and talk and everything that happened in the last days of the Republic is slowly revealed. Everything that Anakin did, everything that he became.

They talk for hours, Anakin reveling in Obi-Wan's companionship again, taken aback by how much his master loves him, even this version of him and all that he did, and Obi-Wan nearly brought to tears by the idea of having Anakin back again. What Obi-Wan wouldn't do to sit side by side with Anakin again, to have even the smallest speck of hope that Anakin might come back to him.

By the light of his hearthfire, Obi-Wan asks Anakin to take off his mask, so that he can see his face again. Anakin would do anything for his master but especially this older, sadder version who loves him so desperately and he obliges. Obi-Wan reaches a gentle hand out to stroke Anakin's pock-marked cheek. He presses a kiss to his pale and scarred forehead.

Then Anakin wakes up in bed with his wife, pulled completely from the alternate reality and back in his body again, his eyes wet with tears. Without hesitation, he reaches out to his bond with Obi-Wan and pulls.

Perhaps Anakin didn't make a mistake in choosing peace. But he certainly made one in leaving Obi-Wan behind. And if Obi-Wan's love could survive all of that, it can definitely handle a few years of strained silence and damaged trust.

Anakin races up the steps of the Jedi Temple in early morning sunlight and for the first time in two years, meets his old Master for tea.

[foreverisntenough]

-YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, little sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 17 - ‘You’re Mine’

Trent slowly opened his eyes, waking up, he grabbed for his phone and winced at the bright light in the dark room. He had heard it vibrating on the bedside table but hadn’t had the energy or interest to look until now. You were still passed out nestled on his chest. He smiled, inspecting the little details of your face before turning his attention back to his phone. His brows furrowed at a group chat with his manager and brother blowing up. He had 50+ text messages. Since early hours they had been talking and sending links. He scrolled in momentary ignorance up to where the conversation started this morning, clicking the first link sent curious seeing his name included in the headline’s blurb.

“What the ..” he spoke at a normal voice that trailed into a whisper... “fuck” as you stirred.

“T?” You cooed, picking your head slightly, wiggling a little on top of him.

“Shhhh... Baby, go back to sleep, yeah?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You couldn’t fight the sleep plaguing you, a headache hit you almost immediately so you rested your cheek back against his bare chest.

The Daily Mail headlines felt almost fake…. Trent squinted wondering if this was an elaborate joke. He couldn’t believe it.

‘Not So Secret? Alexander-Arnold confirms long term relationship with mystery woman’

‘Packing on the PDA; Liverpool fullback gets handsy with woman on a night out in Manchester’

‘Meet Mrs. Merseyside; Liverpool’s Trent Alexander- Arnold shows off his missus on a night out.’

That one seemed to stick. People ran with the Mrs. Merseyside headline. Photos of you last night were plastered across the internet; holding hands into the restaurant, a blurry photo of you kissing at the dinner table, hooking up in the car, god so fucking many of that kiss in the car, you pouring tequila down his throat, your whole night was chronicled. Why the fuck is this being published? You two went out all the time before this, but multiple articles, major news outlets, social media a buzz, it seemed like a lot. Trent’s head started to hurt now. He picked up his arm off you to rub over his eyes trying to calm down. His movement caused you to wake. You slowly began pressing kisses all over his chest. You moved deliberately, hands running over his skin. Humming. Trent got a little sidetracked for the moment, his hand coming to stroke your face but when your hand slid over his abs and down into the waistband of his boxers he shut his eyes tight at the amount of stuff going on and he didn’t think messing around right now would be a good idea.

“Nah, nah. Please baby, not right now” He cooed trying to be nice, mind racing thinking of trying to explain the news to you when he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.

“Wait, what?” Your head sprung up looking at him confused. It was rare for Trent to refuse you. You weren’t even trying to have sex. You just wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m sorry..sorry..” he shook his head overwhelmed. “Just not right this second pretty girl, okay?” He felt bad he could see you were confused but your head hurt too much to think right now so you laid back down in a huff and cuddled him a little before starting to draw over his chest with your nail. Trent kept reading on his phone frivolously, one article breaking down when you first appeared in Liverpool, another saying you were a one night stand, an instagram post found the price of the clothing items you were wearing, it was all doing his head in. He put his phone down leaning his head further back into his pillow. His arms squeezed you a little tighter before releasing and dozing off holding you trying to escape this morning.

Trent had fallen asleep when you heard the doorbell ring. You were confused and ignored it, continuing on with your important task of spelling your name, little hearts, and I love yous over his chest with your nail still. The bell rang again so you slipped off of Trent and the bed. You sleepily fumbled around the room looking for your panties. You pulled one of Trent’s shirts over your head as you made your way downstairs. You yawned, squinting at the bright sun coming into the house, you went to grab at the handle of the front door when it began to unlock and open. You pulled as they pushed it open.

“Where’s Trent?” Tyler pushed past you in the doorway. He had a key and he didn’t feel like waiting for your hungover ass to let him in any longer.

“What?” Running your hands over your eyes. He turned back towards you giving you a quick hug like he had forgotten walking in before he proceeded to let himself further inside, going to the kitchen.

“You just woke up I’m assuming?” He turned back to you, opening your fridge.

“Ty… I definitely didn't purposely come down looking like this.” You giggled half asleep pulling at Trent’s t-shirt from last night. “By all means, have what you want!” You joked as he poked around.

“You haven’t talked to him today?” He asked, head still in the refrigerator.

“Erm… no?” You were utterly confused and his panicked state had your head hurting again.

“Can you go get him, he has to get up. It’s… it’s time sensitive, yeah?” He asked nicely, finally turning around to face you. You said okay and left the room but you always worried when Trent and Tyler needed to have impromptu meetings. Usually, something was wrong or Trent had forgotten about something else. It all stressed you out. A part of you always selfishly feared that the ‘something’ would shake up your life with Trent. Unbeknownst to you, this one just might.

Tyler didn’t want to be the one to show you the news. He figured Trent should. You were a little sensitive about what other people said online and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He’d leave the hard task to his brother.

When you pulled Trent downstairs, it was a little awkward because he didn’t want to tell you either. You more than likely had to be included in some part of the discussion but the thought of stressing you out over something so ridiculous upset him.

“What’s happening?” You cooed, pressing a kiss into his neck as he wrapped his arms from behind around your shoulders in front of you.

“It’s fine, yeah? Just have to do this with Tyler. Sort some things out.” He cooed whispering in your ear, placing a kiss over it when he stopped.

Tyler had moved to the couch, Trent sat down on the other side, you stood awkwardly unable to move paralyzed by the possibilities. You suddenly felt sick and not from the alcohol that was seeping out of your pores now from last night. God, you needed to shower.

The boys explained the media frenzy occurring and you stood there in front of them. Shocked. Trent played with your limp fingers hanging at your side when you finally started coming back from the sudden drop in blood flow in your body. They showed you what had come out, scrolling quickly sparring you in the finer details, the comments you would inevitably read. Tyler called Trent’s manager and put it on speaker. He laughed when he greeted the boys so it lightened the heavy weight pulling on your heart at the moment that they were able to feel so relaxed with this going on.

“Well, there’s nothing… What am I meant to say? I don’t have to say shit to them…” Trent stumbled over his thoughts still tired, a little annoyed this was happening.

“It’s a ‘no comment’ situation, we knew this would happen. We just have to kill the more cynical narratives being put out there.” He paused, blowing some air out of his mouth. “The ‘Trent is a piece of shit, he’s a womanizer, drunk, throwing his career away,’ the whole lot and then obviously the Y/N specific stuff.” Tyler spoke more composed, seeming to have some sort of plan in place, prepared for this which didn’t surprise you but the ‘Y/N specific stuff’ comment caught you off guard. Trent hummed at it with some sort of agreement or remembrance like this was done before. You were out of the loop.

“It’s great you have to do press before the fixture this weekend.” Trent’s manager laughed sarcastically.

“Oh fuck” Trent said dropping his head in his hands. “Nah, honestly. Why do they even carreee” he groaned, falling back into the couch. The boys kept discussing more logistical things; statements, image rights, contacting the club.

“Can I go shower or do you need me?” You whispered pulling at Trent’s arm.

“You’re fine, baby. Come back down when you're done.” He kissed your temple. You got up and Trent mouthed where you were going to Tyler not to interrupt his sentence but to still fill him in. When you went to turn the water on in the bathroom you felt like you had been slapped in the face with the memory of your and Trent’s words in bed last night.

“Holy fuck” you expressed out loud. You turned the water a little colder to try to forget it, reset, there was too much going on, your head was pounding. You stood under the shower head and felt really naked. Obviously. But you felt naked that so many people had seen you in compromising positions, had opinions about you, a million questions blooming. The water droplets raced down your chest as you looked down, each one running over your skin with a thought.

‘He’s such a fuck boy and no one calls him out… the tequila photo, what a slag!’

‘What’s this girls name? Need to stalk immediately.’

‘How did this all go on and we had no idea. So confused.’

‘So obvious she’s in it for the money’

‘Where do these players even find girls like this?’

When you eventually got yourself pulled together you came downstairs going to the kitchen to get water first while you tried to listen to where the conversation had progressed to. You needed to overhear what was being said before you went back not wanting to get involved.

It was all fine. A little invasive? Definitely, but it was the life he chose and you in turn were now choosing. Nothing you could do. You figured it was okay to go back at this stage so you quietly crept back into the living room, not saying a word. You tucked yourself on the couch in between Trent’s legs leaning back on his chest. He engulfed you feeling your warm skin against his. It wasn’t a big deal. People could say what they wanted. It wasn’t going to change the way you felt about each other. It didn’t affect his performance capabilities. It bothered you for sure when people made incorrect or negative assumptions but that’s what was going to happen. Tyler gave you a smile as he continued speaking, reassuring your thoughts that this was ultimately fine, just a little uncomfortable as you began to zone out, the boys voices fading to murmurs.

“Baby?” Trent cooed his cheek coming to press against yours. “Hmm?” He questioned you but you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Sorry?” You shook your head trying to catch up.

“Did you want to release anything?” Tyler asked, leaning towards you a little.

“Release what?” This was all foreign for you to begin with so being asked to do things like this was over your head. Trent’s manager laughed a little.

“Like… Do you want to come out and say something, correct anyone, come out I guess to the public, information maybe, whatever you want?” Trent translated softly as his hands ran up and down your thighs.

“Oh… do you want that?” you turned to ask him but his face was so close to yours already you couldn’t really see him.

“Baby, that’s for you to decide this time. It’s your decision.” He pressed his lips to your cheek trying to be gentle but also explain that you, specifically, had to answer.

“Erm.. no.” You placed your hand over Trent’s. “I don’t think so, they can talk. It’s not like I want to ‘hide’ necessarily” you air quoted the word leaning forward to create space between you and Trent to look back and see his reaction. “but… it’s not really for strangers is it? I don’t have to, right?”

“No, you're fine not saying anything.” Tyler understood your reasoning, so did Trent. They assumed that’d be your response but wanted to give you the space to choose otherwise.

“Can I keep my instagram?” You interrupted the conversation that had carried on.

“Yeah, course. It’s fine.” Trent kissed one cheek again. It was sweet but you looked at Tyler for his answer. Trent said yes to everything you asked, it didn’t carry the same weight right now. Tyler nodded. “Told you so” Trent kissed you again. You had your same Instagram still. You had about 5,000 followers. It was small. It was harmless. There were no feed posts with Trent too obviously in them. You’d post stories with him, your friends and family, people you actually knew followed you, you could easily deduce that you were seeing him but there wasn’t really an easy paper trail to find or get to the account. You didn’t care anyhow, it was public. You wanted to ask though because it felt relevant and it was also your way of keeping some sliver of your normal life but you guess things changed slightly when the comments under your posts had verified blue check marks but other than that it was the same.

You leaned back again to cuddle into Trent’s chest and mentally checked out of the conversation now that your decision was made and your question answered. You would probably barade Trent with more questions later but right now… this was fine. You scrolled aimlessly on Trent’s phone looking at a folder of images from a gossip agency that sold photos from the night out.

“This one’s kind of cute.” You beamed nuzzling your head into his neck grabbing his attention.

“Yeah, baby.” He just yessed you. Tyler was less agreeable.

“Okay, no. We’re not pushing this.” He glared at you to basically shut up but the look still had a little love in it, relieved you weren't on the couch balling your eyes out right now.

You had zoned out again once you got bored of inspecting the photos. This was all a little nuts. It was the first time that people were writing full length articles about you. They didn’t even have your name and they had pulled all this crazy information out of thin air. It made you a little sick being so vulnerable.

The harsh slap of your thoughts you felt before your shower came crashing back. Trent’s hands were on your stomach and it had your brain going fuzzy and not in the way you thought it would. Your chest was warm. You could only imagine the onslaught of articles that would appear when you got pregnant. Jesus, did you want that? ‘When’ you get pregnant like it was set in stone. You rolled your eyes at the self inflicted chaos ensuing in your head.

The call was slowing down. They had kind of pieced together this idea that the England international team was released for the fast approaching Euros. When news sources were gathering images to use in the coverage the latest uploads from paparazzi cameras last night appeared. It was how the site you had been browsing worked. You could search for images taken by the agency and news outlets able to pay for them after the fact. There was a lot of debate about who made the team though, Trent, ever the hot topic, so there was growing interest and searches of his name and in turn that had all shifted to you.

‘This isn’t news… catch up. She’s been around the team for ages’

‘This woman is at every game of his, obviously a long term thing’

‘Can’t wait to see is she goes the the Euros’

‘100% a one night stand, she’s holding on to him for dear life’

‘How do we know nothing about this girl like TAA lets us in brother’

You saw one comment and laughed… showing the phone screen to Trent. It was a lyric from the ‘Brum Boy or Scouser’ song that seemed to ever haunt you.

‘Got there girls acting naughty, one night stand and she still tryna call me lol’

You giggled so Trent did too, more at your little laugh than the actual comment. He still wasn’t sold on the song but the memory of New York years ago made him happy.

“Alright that’s enough. You two are fine?” Tyler asked, standing up. He didn’t need to be annoyed with you two cuddling on the couch while he tried to iron out remaining bits of the situation you didn’t have a say in.

“All good bro. Thank you.” Trent said fist bumping his brother, he was also genuinely thankful for how Tyler handled these things.

The Euro’s were rapidly approaching, Trent having to leave for England training soon, his days busy with workouts and media. Your days blurred directly after the articles came out and him not being around as much didn’t help. There was a lot of focus and attention on you and it caused you to disconnect. You were being papped so often around the city. Articles continued to come out. You had gone to get food with Marcel one day and it resulted in another media onslaught. You wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt of Trent’s. The actual media coverage was pointless, the frenzy really ensued in the comments when people noticed bruises and love bites on the side of your neck and once to your delight now your embarrassment, on your inner thighs. People had a field day dissecting your sex life. You didn’t want to be on your phone anymore. It had become too much, you weren’t used to this. Sure, some people's interest was sweet and thought more positively of you but an overwhelming amount was just criticism and hate. You hadn’t even responded to any of your friends or families texts in days. To be honest, you didn’t even know where your phone was.

“Ignoring me, huh?” Trent said, waking into the kitchen one late morning. He had a day off and given the recent fixation on you, you two opted to just stay home.

“What?” You looked up from the now cold cup of tea you were swirling a spoon in. You didn’t realize you had been doing that since it was hot.

“I texted you asking for water, baby” he kissed your temple walking past you to grab one.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry T, I would've gotten you one. I don't have my phone.” Your eyes pooled like a puppy looking at him actually feeling bad.

“I know, I found it” Holding it up in front of you before he pressed another kiss to your temple standing behind you caging your body against the counter, his chest pressed to your back. “Okay?” He rested his chin on your shoulder worried after seeing you isolate. He didn’t want to bother you, understanding this had been a lot to process, but he had been busy and he missed you. He didn’t accept your dismissal and definitely didn’t fall for your lies so he made you come with him back to the cinema room to spend some time together.

You laid in the dark room on his chest in a little bra top and biker shorts. Your one leg draped over his hips, Trent was just in a pair of sweats, his hands caressing your exposed skin on your back and shoulders. Your hands traced shapes mindlessly over him as you both stared at a football game, quiet. Your heart hurt a little missing him even though he was under you. You wanted him to pay attention to you. You slid your hand down his face and pulled his pouty bottom lip out with your thumb, exposing his pretty teeth, he was unphased, letting you manipulate him. You let his lip go and nuzzled your face into his neck. You left nothing but soft kisses and nibbles on his neck, working up to his jaw and back down his neck. Trent sighed in contentment with your lips on him, shutting his eyes disinterested in the match now.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” He asked, unable to ignore your touches knowing you wanted attention. He didn’t open his eyes though. He just slipped his hands from your lower back to knead your disappointedly currently covered ass.

“I have a question” you cooed with a little giggle. Trent’s heart started beating faster, well aware that neither of you had addressed the ‘pregnancy’ comments, avoiding it every time you had had sex since. The glow from the tv lit your face and he softened seeing more of you. He wasn't sure though if he should play it off or be honest if you asked about it right now.

“Hmm?” He hummed, waiting to see what you were going to ask.

“When you’re playing someone you know, like a friend, do you pretend you don’t know them, is it awkward?” You continued giggling.

“What are you on about?” He started laughing at your out of the blue question. For now, he guessed you were ignoring the comments so he would too. Your innocent question warmed his heart though. You were adorable. He just wanted to ignore all the shit going on and be with you. You were waiting for him to answer the original question so you sat up placing your hands in your lap, waiting patiently. His eyes lit up at how beautiful you looked.

“Hmm?” He hummed again squeezing your exposed waist pressing gross wet kisses against your skin. He missed you lately, you felt distant and he didn’t know if it was the baby topic or the news but he wanted to cheer you up.

“Ew!! You know what I mean!” You squealed attempting to wiggle out of his hold and get an answer but he was much stronger than you. He kept pressing dramatic kisses on you. You felt like a weight lifted as both your giggles filled the room.

“C’mere” he was trying to grab you but you were trying to get away from him jokingly but really, him, his kisses, his hands back on you right now was everything. It didn’t take long for him to catch you so he picked you up and placed you back where you were before. He quickly came to lay completely on top of you, crushing you with his weight. You loved this Trent. He was so childish, manhandling you ignoring how strong he was in comparison, he didn’t care about anything but the present, he wasn’t Trent Alexander-Arnold number 66 in Liverpool’s starting eleven, he was just yours for the moment. He was being ridiculous and it made you happy to see that big goofy smile come across his face as he giggled close to your face.

“Baby!” You breathed out heavily but your moan next to his ear had Trent brain shift gears almost immediately. He went from teasing you to becoming very aware he was on top of you, in control.

“No, tell me what you mean” he hovered over you, his arms pinning yours down against the couch above your head. Your chest rising and falling was more apparent on full display now. You felt small underneath him.

“No, T…” you said slow and sensual. Your brain transitioned too in your new position.

“No?” He cooed, leaning his face closer towards yours. The energy had shifted in the room

“No” you practically moaned, lifting your head a little to move towards his lips for a kiss, he met you half way and you gasped at the contact.

“Okay… gonna tell me what you want then?” He said pulling away from your lips for a moment resisting to kiss you till you answered him.

“No, don’t want anything from you” You giggled a little trying to play coy but he wasn’t having it.

“So you’re not the one drooling, staring at my dick right now?” He laughed. You hadn’t noticed that your gaze had dropped greedily to his hard length. You couldn’t even get a response out. You just smiled shyly.

“Why you going shy now baby? Hmm?” He said nuzzling into your neck as you tried to hide from him, turning your head. He used the arm not holding yours back to grab your chin and turn your face to him before his lips crashed into your again. His body pressed into yours, you could feel the hard cock you’d been staring at against your core.

“I’m not” you moaned, wanting to touch him but your hands struggled to break free under his hold.

“Baby” he paused, pressing his hips flush against yours. “So hard just for you, fuck, just for you.” He groaned

“I love you, T, fuck.. so much” you were desperate for him. He laid into you, his weight was heavy on top of you and love loved the pressure.

“Say it again” he whispered in your ear. His free hand ghosting over your body. It was an excruciating tease. His movement slowed when he pushed into you once more before he whispered again. “Say it again for me, baby.” He let go of your hands and you scrambled to grab at him, pulling his face to yours, kissing him hopelessly, tugging his clothes off frantically.

“I love you, forever, T.” You did. You were obsessed with him. Sometimes in moments like this it hit you how fucking crazy it was suddenly naked with him, your boyfriend, in the house you shared, in another country, it was absolutely mad. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about him fucking you the other night. You could hear him say it, it had been playing on a loop in your head for over a week.

“Make me a daddy, be a good girl and take it all of it f’me”

It made you practically orgaasm just thinking about it, his body on top of yours. His big hard cock brushed over you. You felt like you could scream. He was so hot on top of you, sometimes you forgot until it was happening. He looked down at you. His eyes glimmered, his full lips parted, you nodded to let him now you just wanted him inside you as soon as possible. His lips pulled into that cheeky beautiful grin that had you swooning when his cock brushed over your clit moving through your folds to push into your soaking wet pussy. Your back arched your hip’s instinctively coming forward to meet his. He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in falling into a hard and rough pace, silently telling you he was in charge. The air around you became increasingly thicker at how hot it was getting. He felt so good you couldn’t hold back a moan. The way the noise hit his ears made his stroke falter.. You had him on a leash you didn’t know you were holding. You controlled him with every move of your hips. Your whines had him folding. He was ready to give into anything you wanted. He took a deep breath pulling out for a moment to reset, trying to prolong this.

“T, baby, please, please I need you.” You were begging for him. He took a deep breath trying to gather himself before he gripped the fat of your ass so tight you let out uncontrollable whine.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He teased above you, that smile reappearing.

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, squeezing around nothing desperate for him. Trent pushed his finger in your mouth and you moaned around them. He took his now wet fingers from your mouth and dragged them down your body before his thumb rubbed your clit in harsh circles. .

“Be a good girl and tell me your mine.” He cooed as you were falling apart under him. You couldn’t get any words out only whines, you felt his thumb into your clit harder.

“Fuck! Fu-fuck T, I can’t.” Tears started to form on your lash line. Your eyes locked onto him in desperation to let you cum. He held your gaze before he slammed his length back inside you all at once. He started up a brutal pace, so much rougher than his previous one. You could feel every hard vein and ridge of it fucking into you. He consistently hit a spot so deep inside you that only he knew. You both moaned at the sensation. You couldn’t hold it together anymore.

“I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Tell me your mine.” He grunted through the words. You could tell in his voice he wasn’t far behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah fuck. T…Oh my god I’m yours. I’m yours.” You were crying. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your orgasm washed over you. You came all over his cock, Your slick covered his length as it dripped down your thighs. He continued to fuck into you relentlessly. “I’m yours, T.” You whined.

“Shit, shit, shit, gonna cum. Be a good girl and take all of it f’me.” It was a line similar to the one replaying in your head when you practically begged him to cum inside you to get you pregnant. A second orgasm came flooding in with the memory. All you could do is cry and moan his name while he fucked his cum into you, filling you up completely till it was leaking out of you. As he felt his cum seep out he couldn’t help but think about you asking for him to get you pregnant too. You were on birth control, you two definitely were not being the most careful but Trent didn’t mind if you actually ended up pregnant. In all honesty, that would be a dream for him. It was the ultimate way of marking you as his, and only his. You both were thinking about it and not saying a word but pretty happy with the idea.

You clung to his body breathing heavily whispering how much you loved him in his ear while your hand raked up his spine after his movements stilled and he collapsed on top of you. You stayed like that for ages until you heard an awfully familiar sound. Trent was softly snoring as he breathed on top of you. He rested his heavy head on your chest with his arms wrapped completely around your naked frame. His hair tickled your skin as he dozed off between your boobs. You let him stay like that a little longer, just happy to have him with you because he was going to be leaving for the tournament so soon. It was nearing dinner time and you wanted to make sure he didn’t fuck up his sleep schedule so you tried to wake him.

“T… baby” you cooed

“Hey…” you tried again, speaking softly.

“Pretty boy…” stroking your hand over his prominent cheek bone.

“Mmm” he groaned, moving a little on top of you. You thought he was going to get up but he just squeezed you tighter.

“No?” You giggled at how tired he was. “Okay.” You kissed him

“I love you Y/N so much” he said quietly, closing his eyes and humming in appreciation as you continued rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 18 xx

[ser3nityst4r]

Riddle’s Backstory

Riddle’s eighth birthday was as meticulously planned as every other day of her life. His mother, a renowned potioneer and a woman of unwavering discipline, ensured that every aspect of Riddle’s life, from his diet to his education, was optimized for success. The birthday cake, a low-sugar concoction made with nuts and lecithin-rich soy flour, was presented with the same clinical precision that marked every aspect of Riddle’s life. However, Riddle, despite his meticulously structured world, harbored a yearning for something more, something forbidden – a strawberry tart. “Just once, Mom,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, “I’d like to try one of those tarts covered with bright-red strawberries.”  His mother’s reaction was swift and unyielding. “Absolutely not! Those tarts are monstrously unhealthy. I might as well feed you poison!” she declared, her voice laced with disapproval. “Even just a single slice would exceed your recommended daily intake of sugar.” Riddle’s heart sank. He knew better than to argue with his mother. He had learned early on that defiance was met with unwavering discipline and an extension of his already rigorous schedule. So he nodded, accepting his fate, and returned to his studies.  But the image of the tarts, their shining red jewels of strawberries, clung to his mind. A longing filled him, a yearning for something that felt both forbidden and exhilarating. One afternoon, during her “independent study” time, a knock on the window startled her. Two children, their faces alight with mischief, waved excitedly.  “Hey, come play with us!” the boy, Che’nya, called out. “Let’s all play croquet! Oh, but it’s LOTS of fun!”

Riddle hesitated. He had never been allowed to play with other children. His mother believed that socializing was a distraction from his studies. But these two seemed different, their energy contagious, their smiles genuine.  “I can’t,” he responded, his voice barely a murmur. “I’m supposed to be doing independent study, and I have a lot of homework to do.” “‘Independent study’ means you pick what to do, right?” the boy, Trey, piped up. “My grandpa says play is a form of study!”  And so, Riddle, drawn by an inexplicable force, found himself stepping out of his carefully constructed world, joining Trey and Che’nya in a game of croquet. It was exhilarating, messy, and utterly chaotic. They laughed, they ran, they fell, and they learned. They shared secrets, told stories, and discovered a world beyond the rigid rules that governed Riddle’s life. In the weeks that followed, Riddle, fueled by the joy of playing with his new friends, began to sneak out of her room during his “independent study” time. They played hide-and-seek in the orchard, raced through the fields, and even dared to venture into the forbidden woods behind their homes. It was a world of freedom and laughter. One afternoon, Trey, his eyes sparkling, took Riddle’s hand. “You’ve never even tried a strawberry tart? They’re out of this world!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Riddle’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. My mom says sugar is basically poison.” “I mean, you probably shouldn't eat too much of it, but calling it ‘poison’?” Trey scoffed. “You know, my family runs a cake shop. Let’s go get a tart right now!” Riddle hesitated. Her mother’s warnings echoed in her mind. But the temptation was too great. In a moment of reckless abandon, she agreed. The strawberry tart, a crimson jewel of sweetness on a pristine white plate, was a revelation. It tasted like joy, like freedom, like a world beyond the carefully controlled world she inhabited. But the joy was short-lived. His mother caught her red-handed, the half-eaten tart a stark testament to her transgression.  “I cannot believe this!” her mother thundered, her voice laced with fury. “Not only are you cutting independent study time, but I find you eating a mountain of sugar?! Those two hoodlums must have incited this behavior. You must never play with them again!” Riddle, his heart aching, was consumed by guilt and fear. He promised, with trembling lips, to never break the rules again. But the pain, a deep, hollow ache, lingered.  He looked at her mother, his face a mask of rigid perfection. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “Why does my heart hurt so much?”

His mother’s gaze remained fixed, cold and impenetrable. Riddle, his voice trembling with unspoken anguish, continued, “I want to eat a tart! It’s my birthday, so can’t I have some just this once? I want to play outside all day long! I want to make lots and lots of friends! Tell me, Mom, please...what rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?” But his mother remained silent, her face a mask of unyielding control. Riddle’s heart, heavy with a longing he couldn’t articulate, remained shrouded in a silent pain, a whisper of a rebellion that dared to dream of a world beyond the confines of her mother’s rules.

[xsherewrytesx]

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

summary. You and Toji were broken up for 8 months+. Your constant pressure for him to improve led to frequent fights, driving him to spend more time at the mechanic shop and racing than with you. Despite knowing you meant well, the strain became too much, and Toji eventually ended the relationship.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, street racer au

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Prequel

In the early days, before everything unraveled, before the weight of expectations and dreams became too heavy to bear, there was a time when your and Toji's relationship burned bright with hope and passion.

You were deep into your architecture studies at SCAD university, your days filled with drafting tables and design critiques. Toji, on the other hand, lived a more unconventional life. He worked at a mechanic shop during the day, fixing cars with a skill that hinted at years of hands-on experience. But it was the nights and weekends that defined him—a street racer, known for his daring maneuvers and his loyalty to his crew.

Their worlds collided one night at a local hangout spot, where street racers gathered like modern-day gladiators ready to battle it out on the asphalt. Toji's presence was magnetic, his confidence matched only by the roar of his engine. You were drawn to his intensity, the way he seemed to defy the rules both on and off the track.

Their first date was unconventional, to say the least. Toji took you for a ride in his prized Eleanor Mustang, pushing the car to its limits under the cover of night. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of speed—it was intoxicating, a glimpse into Toji's world that you couldn't resist.

As their relationship blossomed, you saw potential in Toji beyond the mechanic shop and the late-night races. You believed in him fiercely, pushing him to dream bigger. It was you who planted the seed of owning his own shop, a place where he could showcase his talents and build something lasting.

Toji was hesitant at first, wary of your relentless optimism. "You think I don't want it hard enough?" he would argue, his voice tinged with frustration. "I take my time to learn things right, not rush into something half-assed like you want."

Their arguments became a cycle—a dance of passion and frustration, love and misunderstanding. You both made up after each fight, drawn back together by their shared fire, only to fall into another argument soon after.

The highs of victory at the races were often followed by the lows of heated debates over dinner, their friends, Sukuna, Geto, and Gojo, bearing witness to their volatile love affair.

One night, after Toji lost a crucial race, your disappointment turned to biting criticism. "You were too slow off the line," you snapped, your words a slap in the face. Toji, already raw from the defeat, snapped back with equal force. "I don't need this from you, Y/n! You think you know everything, but you don't understand what it takes!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes," You sure act like you don't have what it takes." Toji's eyes widen incredulously at your words. He felt his heart crack for the first time since you guys started arguing almost daily.

Toji voice was raised,

"So, this is how you see me huh, just some bum mechanic. I hold my own. I pay my share and more. I do everything I can and more for you, for us. You want L.V, Bottega Veneta, anything you got that plus more. Trips to see your family back home. Tuition fees I help you pay that AND ONE FUCKING NIGHT IM OFF MY GAME AND THATS WHAT I GET Y/N. FORREAL"

Their friends watched in silence as the argument escalated, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths. Sukuna, usually the voice of reason, exchanged a worried glance with Geto and Gojo.

They had seen this before but not to this extent—the clash of two strong-willed souls who loved fiercely but couldn't find common ground.

Toji walked off leaving you with his friends. He walked over to his cousins Maki and Mai who were hanging with Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi, his younger brother.

Megumi sensing his older brother's tension offered him a beer and a quick smoke. Toji took the beer and the joint leaning against Megumi's custom built 2000 Mazda rx7 series 8 in orange.

Megumi stood next to Toji analyzing him before asking. "Wanna talk about it bro. We all saw the commotion from over here. The music was too loud for us to hear but we know it was bad."

Toji sighed not wanting to talk, just think. "Just the usual these days honestly but I'm good man......For the most part." Megumi studied his older brother's face for a moment. He's never seen Toji look so stressed out before. He's usually a bit more carefree and relaxed. Yuuji strode over to offer Megumi another drink and glanced at Toji, who was deep in thought. "Is y/n trippin on him again?" Yuuji inquired, to which Megumi nodded in confirmation.

"Why doesn't he just...idk take a break or end things. They went from the it couple of the meet ups to that old miserable couple who hate each other but stay together for the kids and mortgage." Toji laughed at Yuuji's analogy of his and your relationship.

As the night wore on, Toji retreated into brooding silence, nursing his wounded pride. you, to hurt to stay, stormed off into the night, leaving behind a trail of regrets and unresolved emotions.

The weeks following that pivotal night were filled with tension and distance for you and Toji. What was once a vibrant relationship had deteriorated into a fragile shell of its former self. Intimacy had become a distant memory—

No more shared moments of passion, no lazy mornings in each other's embrace, no whispered promises. Instead, your interactions were marked by tense exchanges and the heavy weight of unspoken issues weighing on you and Toji's mind.

Toji sought solace in the familiar clang of tools and the smell of motor oil at the mechanic shop. It became his sanctuary, a place to bury himself in work, tuning up cars before and after races, avoiding the suffocating atmosphere of his once-shared apartment.

His boss and uncle, Naobito, initially tried to send Toji home at reasonable hours. But seeing the turmoil in his young mechanic, he relented, letting Toji work as long as he needed to find peace in the roaring engines and the adrenaline-fueled world of street racing.

Days stretched into weeks, and Toji's absence from home became the new normal. He spent his evenings at Geto's or Sukuna's place, smoking, chilling and talking about life and racing. He liked being around them. They understood the allure of the fast life and how the life is, especially for him.

When Toji finally returned home, it was almost three weeks since he had last stepped foot in the apartment. Exhausted, he unlocked the door, hoping for a moment of peace, but you were waiting for him, your eyes blazing with anger.

The sight of Toji, worn and distant, triggered a burst of accusations and pent-up frustrations. “Where the hell you been, Toji? Do you even care anymore?” Your voice cracked with anger and hurt.

Toji just sighed not wanting to argue with you as soon as he got through the door. He opted for silence, but you pushed on again

“Toji, where the hell have you been?” you demanded again, your voice sharp. “You think you can just disappear for weeks and not tell me where you are?”

Toji, weary from weeks of turmoil and external pressure, finally snapped. “You think I don’t care? You think this is easy for me? Plus, I’ve been working, racing. I needed some space."

His words were sharp, each syllable laced with bitterness and exhaustion. He was trying not to unleash everything that had been brewing inside him for weeks.

“Man, miss me with that,” you fired back, tears streaming down your face. “You been out here actin’ like I don’t exist. You think I’m stupid? You out there wit’ somebody else? and what's this bullshit about Space...SPACE! You needed space, so you just leave me here, not knowing if you’re dead or alive? You didn’t even call!”

Toji’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I ain’t been with nobody else! I’ve been at the shop, tryin’ to get my mind right. But you always jumpin’ to conclusions. I didn't wanna fight with you almost every night after a day at the shop. I just needed to clear my head."

“You expect me to believe that? You ain’t been home in weeks, Toji! Weeks! and you talking shit about clearing your head” you shouted, your voice rising with every word.

“Clear your head?” you echoed again, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You mean avoid your responsibilities. Avoid me. Toji, this isn’t working,” you said, your voice breaking. “You’ve been gone for weeks, and you didn’t even think to call me. What am I supposed to think?”

“I needed space! You don’t get it, do you? Every time I come home, it’s like walkin’ into a battlefield. I can’t breathe here! You think I was out there having fun? I was working my ass off, trying to keep my head above water! And you? You didn’t check on me either! You didn’t care if I was alive or dead!”

Toji yelled back, his frustration boiling over.

“That’s not fair, Toji! You shut me out!” you shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “You didn’t give me a chance! You needed space? So you just leave? Just like that? What about us? What about our plans, our dreams?” you cried, desperation seeping into your voice.

“Toji, I’m tired of this!” you yelled, your frustration boiling over. “You never take anything seriously! Not our relationship, not your future. You just coast by, doing the bare minimum.”

Toji scoffed, “That's bull shit and you know it I've been busting my ass trying to make something of myself. All you do is nag and push and talk and push and fucking frustrate me and the fuck you mean by plans? dreams? You mean your plans, your dreams. You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed. You pushed and pushed until there was nothing left of me but your expectations.”

“Nah, that’s bullshit!” you cried. “I was tryin’ to make you see your worth. You got talent, Toji. You could be somethin’ big, but you stuck in that damn garage like you scared of success! Why can’t you see that I just want what’s best for you?"

“You don’t get it!” Toji roared back, his face contorted with pain and anger. “I love working on cars. I love racing. It ain’t about throwin’ away potential. It’s about doin’ what makes me happy. But you... you always want more. Nothing is ever enough for you NOTHING I DO OR TRY IS ENOUGH!”

“So it’s wrong to want the best for you? For us?” you countered, desperation creeping into your voice. “We had dreams, Toji. Big dreams. What happened to those?”

“They turned into your dreams, not mine,” Toji shot back. “You never asked what I wanted. You just assumed. You pushed and pushed until there was nothing left of me but your expectations.”

“You think I’m just naggin’ you? You think I don’t want you to be happy? I just wanted us to be happy. To build somethin’ real,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Toji’s voice, when he spoke again, was cold and detached. “I can’t do this anymore,” he declared.

“I’m done, Y/n,” Toji said, his voice cold. “I’m done fighting. I’m done trying to be someone I’m not for you.”

Toji stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Sukuna’s number.

“Yo, Sukuna. I need your help. Can you come over and help me move my stuff?”

Your shock turned to disbelief, then to a desperate plea. “Toji, please, don’t do this. We can work through this, I promise.”

Toji paused, his gaze hardening. “Nah, it’s too late for promises,” he said flatly, his eyes devoid of emotion.

“Sukuna,” Toji said into the phone, “I need you to come over. Help me move out.”

Sukuna’s voice came through the phone, confused and concerned. “What’s going on, man? You sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Toji replied, glancing at you. “I need to get out of here.”

As he hung up, you continued to shout at him, your voice desperate and raw. “You can’t just leave, Toji! You can’t just walk out on us!”

Toji ignored your pleas, moving through the apartment with a sense of finality. He packed his belongings swiftly, each item a silent testament to your shattered dreams.

Pulling out a wad of cash, he dropped it on the table. “Cover my share of the expenses. It's about 15k”

Overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, betrayal—you snatched the money and flung it at Toji hitting him in the back. “I don’t want your damn money!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart breaking with each passing moment.

Toji picked up the cash calmly, placing it on a side table without a second glance. He took off his apartment keys, dropping them next to the money. “Use it or not, I don’t care anymore.” His voice was hollow, his gaze distant as he turned away.

“You runnin’ away again, Toji! Just like you always do when things get tough!” you shouted, anger and pain mixing into a volatile cocktail.

Toji froze, his back to you. Slowly, he turned around, his expression hardened by years of unresolved conflict. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it’s not. I’m tired, Y/n. I’m tired of fighting, of trying to live up to your expectations. I need space to figure things out.” Toji said dejected rubbing his temples.

Just as the tension reached its peak, there was a knock at the door. Sukuna entered; his usual smirk replaced with a look of concern. “Yo, you really doin’ this, Toji?”

Toji nodded, his resolve unwavering. “Yeah, I’m done. Just need to be out of here.”

You followed them through the house, your pleas growing more desperate. “Toji, please! Don’t do this. We can fix this; I know we can!”

Sukuna glanced at Toji, his brow furrowed. “You sure about this, man? You wanna throw all this away?”

Toji’s frustration boiled over, and he snapped at Sukuna. “I said, I’m sure! Just help me pack and let’s get out of here!”

Sukuna nodded, silently helping Toji gather his things. You trailed behind, tears streaming down your face, your heart breaking with each passing moment.

“Toji, you can’t just walk away. What about all the good times? What about us?” you begged, your voice cracking.

Toji paused, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. But I can’t keep doing this. I need to breathe. I need to be me, without all this pressure.”

You watched helplessly as Toji packed his belongings, his movements mechanical and distant. In a desperate attempt to stop him, you grabbed at his clothes, trying to yank them out of his hands. “Toji, don’t go. Don’t leave me like this.”

Toji, startled by your physical resistance, tugged his clothes back with a firm grip. “Let go, Y/n. This ain’t gonna change nothin’.”

“Stop it, Toji! Just stop!” you screamed, your voice filled with a mix of rage and desperation. “You can’t do this to us!”

The tussle escalated, both of you pulling at his belongings until Toji managed to wrench them from your grasp. “Enough!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the apartment.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him with tear-filled eyes, your voice a trembling whisper. “I hate you, Toji. I wish I never met you.”

Toji froze, his eyes widen at your words, his expression one of shock and pain. He stared at you; his voice dangerously quiet. “Say that again.”

“I said I hate you! I wish I never met you!” you repeated, each word cutting through the air like a knife.

Toji’s face hardened, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. Slowly, he reached for the double Cuban link bracelets on his wrists, removing them one by one. He placed them gently on the coffee table, followed by the matching ring and the promise ring you both exchanged on Valentine’s Day last year.

He looked at you one last time, his voice filled with a cold finality. “I hope you’re happy now. Goodbye, Y/n."

With those words, Toji turned away, grabbing his packed bags and walking out the door without a backward glance. Sukuna lingered for a moment, casting a sympathetic look your way before following Toji out of the apartment.

Alone in the silence that followed, you collapsed onto the couch, tears streaming down your face. The apartment felt emptier than it ever had before, the air thick with the weight of shattered dreams and unresolved emotions.

Weeks turned into months, and the ache in your heart slowly dulled to a persistent throb. Toji’s absence became a void you learned to live with, the memories of happier times a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

You threw yourself into your studies, burying your pain in the relentless pursuit of your dreams. Architecture became your sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself in the creative process, if only temporarily.

Occasionally, you caught glimpses of Toji’s life through mutual friends or social media—snapshots of him at races, laughing with Sukuna and Geto, the tattooed sleeves on his arms a stark reminder of how much had changed.

Sometimes you'd even attend street races, it's been apart of your routine for so long. It was hard to stop.

And yet, despite the passage of time, a part of you couldn’t let go. The memories of Toji—

𝕆𝕟𝕖, 𝔼𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥

You hadn't planned on driving through this part of town. Memories lurked here, painful and poignant, like ghosts whispering from every corner. Your hands tightened on the steering wheel as you navigated familiar streets, the echoes of old arguments and broken promises haunting your thoughts.

The engine of your car hummed steadily, a contrast to the erratic beat of your heart. The shop came into view, its neon sign with the words Zenin Auto's flickering even in the bright midday sun.

As you approached, the sound of an all-too-familiar song filled the air, blending with the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber. "Same Old Song" by The Weeknd. Ironic, really.

You saw him before he saw you. Toji was at the center of the garage, his presence commanding, even now. His back was turned, engrossed in conversation with Sukuna near the open hood of a sleek, black Dodge Hellcat.

Sukuna, his lean frame leaning casually against the car, glanced up and caught your eye with a grimace, his cigarette dangling from his lips as usual. He nudged Toji, and Toji turned slowly, a spark of recognition igniting in his eyes.

Toji looked different yet the same. His muscles seemed more defined, his sleeves of his jumpsuit tied around his waist to reveal new tattoos that snaked up his arms like wild vines. A silver lip ring gleamed on the opposite side of his lip scar, a bold addition to his rugged appearance.

His hair, always a bit tousled, now fell just a touch longer, framing his face in a way that made your heart ache with nostalgia. He wore his usual navy-blue jumpsuit with the sleeves tied around his waist, paired with black Timberland work boots and a black fitted vest.

You felt frozen, caught between the urge to turn away and the magnetic pull of unfinished business. Your car idling in front the shop. Memories flooded back, unbidden. Late nights spent waiting for him to come home, the scent of motor oil clinging to his clothes.

The fierce arguments, the passionate reconciliations, and the relentless push from you for him to strive for more. You had meant well, always. But sometimes, love alone couldn't bridge the gap between two people heading in different directions.

Toji's gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable at first. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though time had stood still. Then, a flicker of something crossed his face—was it surprise, regret, or resignation?

He scoffed lightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he lifted a joint to his mouth and lit it with practiced ease. The flame briefly illuminated the scar on his lip, a mark you used to trace with your fingers in quieter times.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Toji thought, the anger he had buried resurfacing. "After all this time, she just shows up. For what?"

The sight of you, unchanged yet somehow different, tugged at memories he had tried to bury beneath the noise of the racing engines and the smoke of his joint.

He remembered the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the softness of your touch that could soothe even his fiercest temper. But alongside those memories, there was also the weight of unresolved issues, the fear of falling back into old patterns that had left you both scarred.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind. "Why does he have to look so good?" you wondered, struggling to maintain your composure. "Does he even care that I'm here? Does he even miss me?"

In that charged silence, you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

The lyrics of the song playing in the background seemed to mock you both.

And now I'm poppin', yeah Ain't nobody showed me how I made it big poppin', yeah Tell me how you like me now I swear I loved you, girl,

a bitter reminder of the love you had once shared and the pain that had torn you apart.

Toji wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension that crackled between you. But pride and stubbornness held his words captive, leaving only the smoke of his joint to fill the silence.

"She really had the nerve to come here," Toji thought, his jaw tightening. "Ain't no way I'm letting her see me sweat."

In that suspended moment, neither of you moved. You could feel Sukuna's eyes on you, a silent observer to the reunion that neither of you had expected.

Toji's jaw tightened imperceptibly as he pushed a hand through his hair, breaking eye contact and turning away with a dismissive gesture. The casualness of the gesture masked the turmoil beneath the surface, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatened to engulf you both.

"I should just leave," you thought, the weight of the past too heavy to bear. But before you could gather your thoughts, Toji turned his back completely, disappearing deeper into the shadows of the garage. Sukuna's lingering gaze followed you as you stood there, grappling with the weight of unfinished conversations and unresolved feelings.

"Toji really gonna let her presence fuck his head up like this?" Sukuna thought, watching Toji retreat.

The decision was made in a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you turned the wheel sharply, the tires squealing in protest as you sped away from the shop and the ghosts of the past that lingered there.

As the distance between you and Toji grew, you fought to steady your trembling hands and quiet the storm of emotions raging within.

[wojakgallery]

Title/Name: Withered Wojak in the dark Wojak Series: Withered (Variant) Image by: Unknown Main Tag: Withered Wojak

All around me are familiar faces Worn out places, worn out faces Bright and early for the daily races Going nowhere, going nowhere

[lieutenantfloyd]

✦Day and Night — Yuki Tsunoda✦

Dating AU (headcanons)

Pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Summary: What daily life is like in your relationship with Yuki.

Notes: This is the product of me getting distracted while writing a completely different thing for a completely different driver (more on that later). Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this! <3

Day

♫ Bad Haircut - Stephani Poetri & JVKE

Your days start slow. Mornings are full of soft cuddles and even softer kisses. When it’s finally time to greet the outside world, expect to coordinate entire outfits, or at minimum match sneakers. He’ll pick you a bouquet of wildflowers whenever he spots them, only to be left worshipping the small bug bites perpetually scattered across his knuckles whenever he’s away for a race. His love of food bleeds its way into your relationship in a myriad of ways. Whether it's him waking up early to make you breakfast in bed, catching up over lunch at a new restaurant, or taking turns being each other's sous chef whenever there’s a recipe you want to try out. When your schedules allow, you’ll travel to one of the many places you always talked about going to. At some point you’ll invest in cameras; his digital and yours analog; with the notion of capturing the beauty of the world around you. Nevertheless, you’ll return home every time with pictures of nothing but each other. If you ask him to teach you/help you improve your Japanese, he’d be over the moon. Watching your eyes light up with recognition as you start to understand his words of adoration and terms of endearment is enough to make his heart nearly burst.

Night

♫ Here With Me - D4vd

Nights with Yuki end just as soft as the days begin. You’ll complete your nightly chores before playing video games or reading. It’s all so hopelessly domestic. If he’s had a hard week, you get him to take a bath with you. You can practically see the tension slipping from his shoulders as you shower him with floral soaps and loving words of encouragement. On occasion, always when he’s in a particularly cheerful and clingy mood, he’ll pester you to share a gloriously graceless slow dance. While this usually happens at home, there have been several times he’s convinced you to dance with him in the most social of situations. No matter the location, Yuki always makes sure to mark the intro, chorus, and outro of each song with a kiss. When insomnia gets the best of you, you’ll go on late-night drives. The streets are nearly empty and he’ll always insist on driving. At some point, he’ll pull over for a midnight snack. You always pick something like chips, pizza, or sandwiches while Yuki always chooses nothing but sweets. Salty and savory foods might not be your favorite, but Yuki's bright eyes and near-blinding smile when he inevitably mentions how well you balance each other out certainly is. The best nights are when he finds himself wine drunk and overflowing with love in its most pure form. Giggling and tripping over his words as he spills every last bullet point on his list of hopes, dreams, and intentions for your future together. Introducing your families to each other. Two dogs and a cat. Fresh flowers and white linens. Home-cooked meals. Wedding vows and pastel-painted nurseries. A modest home, a gentle life.

[wolf-in-shining-armor]

Justice

Terra, Sol system

3152

There were many things that Hadrian had disliked about the Republic of the Sphere.

In its early years, it had seemed like a beacon of shining hope for the galaxy’s future, a promise of justice, equality, fair leadership. For those brief, golden years, the future had seemed so bright.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last long. When Exarch Levin had dissolved the senate, Hadrian had seethed in fury, unable to do anything as the fledgling hope for democracy in the Inner Sphere had died in flames, watching in horror as the Clans had descended like vultures to consume the carcass of the Galaxy’s best hope.

However, despite his distaste for the Republic in its later years, he would rather it ten to one over the new “Star League”. Despite their lofty namesake, Hadrian saw them for what they truly were: Thugs with big guns, who thought that just because they had the best ‘Mechs and superior technology, the rest of the Sphere ought to be at their beck and call.

However, he had nowhere better to go, now that the galaxy's last and best hope was dead and gone. No matter where he went, He'd only ever find a new face for his overlords, a new color for the boot on his neck. At least, here on Terra, the technicians still had access to the republic documentation that detailed his creation.

However, if they didn’t stop poking and prodding at him every time he came in for a tune-up, he was going to go ballistic.

“Will you quit that?” he asked, as one of the technicians examined the mechanisms that made up his right arm, admiring the workmanship that had gone into it. “That’s my body, not some museum exhibit for you to play about with.”

With an annoyed huff, the man set the detached arm down, moving back to his assigned duty, which was recalibrating the servomotors of his hand.

“Major Winters, I would ask that you be less curt with my staff,” the scientist-in-charge said. “You are a technological marvel, and it is only natural that they are curious.”

Hadrian bit back a response, phantom signals racing through his mind to clench teeth in a jaw he’d lost decades ago. He stayed silent, tamping down his annoyance at probing fingers, at intrusive diagnostics, at the thousand other minor annoyances that rankled him as they worked. After all, they were the one thing keeping his body operational- it wouldn't do to piss them off.

An hour later, he left the facility, sensors registering a spike in heat as he stepped out of the artificial chill of the laboratory. With hesitance, he checked his daily schedule, so much busier since his promotion. Indeed, it seemed that today was planned to be just as full as yesterday, with meetings, inspections, and more paperwork than he could shake a stick at. One highlight of his day, however, was a lunch with Colleen, an old comrade and now a naval officer, working her way up the crew of one of the great big WarShips the orbital foundress seemed to churn out every week.

However, on his way to his office, shared with other officers of the 46th Battlemech Regiment, he encountered a commotion taking place in the open courtyard, which made the center of Fort Lewis-McCord.

The source of the disturbance seemed to be a cluster of Clan elementals, easily picked out due to their enormous stature, and several of Hadrian’s own men, of Charlie Company.

Hadrian sighed. Looked like he'd be late for that lunch with Colleen.

“Stay in your lane, Stravag,” one of the elementals said, “Or I will put you back in it myself.” the warrior’s baritone timbre was like thunder, rumbling across the crowded space as Hadrian drew near.

“Fuck off, you pod-born shitstain! I’ve got just as much a right to be here as you! I earned my way, wasn’t designed to be a perfect little soldier boy by some cunt in a lab! If anyone should be kicking rocks, it’s you!”

In a flash, the elemental had the man by the collar, hoisting him in the air.

“Count yourself lucky that you are too pathetic for me to declare a batchall, scum. For I would break every bone in your body for the disrespect you show me.”

Just as quickly, Hadrian was in the middle, breaking the elemental’s grip and standing between the soldiers.

“What in the hell do you think you're doing?” He asked the two, looking back and forth between them.

“This freeborn,” the elemental said, spitting the word like a curse. “has disrespected me. It is my right to punish him.”

The former Republic pilot snarled at the Clan warrior. “Like hell! I'll rot in hell before I let this dumb fuck talk down to me like that!”

Ah, so that was the case. It was a common story in these days, The arrogant Clan warriors would try to push their supposed superiority on the Sphere mechwarriors, only to become enraged when the proud pilots didn't roll over and show their bellies. However, Hadrian had developed a foolproof technique for dealing with them.

With a quick jerk, he grabbed the warrior by the face, throwing him across the courtyard until he impacted the chowhalls's wall with a thud of cracking concrete.

He slunk closer, grabbing the elemental by the throat and pinning the giant above his head, tilting his head to look the man in the eye.

“I think you Clanners had ought to be taught a lesson. You think you have some innate right, simply because you're all designed in a lab, to impose your will on the rest of the world.” The claws on his left hand, wrapped around the man's throat, began to extend, the scraping sound of metal echoing in the suddenly silent courtyard. “I think it's time you learned what it's lIke to be weak. I think it's time you learned to be afraid.”

At the edge of the crowd, a couple of the elemental’s compatriots began to charge, until Hadrian's tail whipped out, wrapping around and drawing the blade kept at his hip. almost immediately, the Clan warriors became unsteady, As did the rest of the crowd, the vibrating blade tuned to a specific frequency to disrupt the human equilibrium.

“I wouldn't try it,” He said. “Or I'll paint the stones red with your little friend here.”

There were whispers in the crowd, now. Hushed voices muttered, words like ‘abomination’, and ‘Savrashi’ spreading through the crowd, until the voice of Hadrian's superior officer broke through the din.

“Major Winters, put that man down immediately!” He was short, for a clanner. An ex-Jade Falcon, embittered by their defeat in the IlClan trial, but still dedicated to Star League. “And report to Star Colonel Osis for disciplinary action. Sergeant Broadchurch, Point Commander Kevin, you're to report as well.”

With a sigh, Hadrian dropped the idiot elemental, leaving him gasping for breath. He'd gotten his point across, but it would have to be enough. Sending a quick message to Colleen to request a raincheck on their lunch, he sheathed his blade and began the trek to the Star Colonel's office.

There were many things that Hadrian disliked about the Republic, but it was still better than Star League.

[soupy-sez]

“All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces. Bright and early for their daily races. Going nowhere, going nowhere.

Their tears are filling up their glasses. No expression, no expression. Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow. No tomorrow, no tomorrow.”

↚ Tears For Fears – Mad World ↛ x

[hoarding-gremlin]

All around me are familiar faces

Worn-out places, worn-out faces

Bright and early for their daily races

Going nowhere, going nowhere

[roseprincesskristina]

Count Hunkula ((Vamp! Yami Yugi X Yugi))

((Sup, boils and ghouls! Princess Tina here once again wanting to offer y'all my steamy spooktacular semi long fan novel right heretofore your utter observation. Halloween may be coming tomorrow, but it ain't too early to celebrate at all, heck no! Anywho, feel free to enjoy reading this bone shivering tale about a youthful King of Games and his crowned Egyptain sovereign. Happy Halloween 🎃😄))

Onto this tranquil inauguration of Autumn, a mild comforting season emerging itself gracefully by a voluntary visit toward the metropolitan town of Domino City, Japan, populated with numerous health minded denizens both youthful as well as elderly conjoined altogether to share the similar pure halcyon, even to decorate every single vegetative leaf of dual trees and bushes across the entire country with a gentle swipe of a paintbrush to morph them into five beautiful colors of the seasonal rainbow, a tender hearted young man plus new owner of a still remained Kame Game department named Yugi Moto aimlessly ventures throughout a crimeless municipality upon an ordinary saunter into the center of a relaxing afternoon nightfall wielding double bagged hoards of supplies in his hands to carry all the way home safely.

Indulging with sheer thankfulness for absolute peace caused by the fair temperature alongside a melodious breeze offering its friendly embrace to entrap his late petite anatomy, adorable cheeks, and caressing the tri hued spiky hair dough in an invisible hand makes the empathetic King of Games to whistle out his rapturing sigh of relief while continuously traveling farther from the food market only to obtain at least several meals including beverages he had purchased earlier into daytime due to the gaming establishment/household possessing zero supper or refreshments whatsoever, Yugi decides to proceed onward at the park for a 40 second break upon the solo bench to set himself as well as the bag of groceries on a clean seat before returning back to the abode cautiously into one peace.

Capturing numerous silent breaths while feeling partly worn out during a semi lengthen exercise walk around the cleansing city in complete ease other than his recent adolescent years in Domino High according to the pint size figure he used to have regardless about becoming a target for crucial bullying, yet instead, it was a worthwhile effort of getting within an appropriate physical shape to stay active for not only healthy reasons by lonesome, but with invigorating duels as well.

Ascending two crystal clear violet pupils of his cutely ginormous eyes above the decent navy bluish skies with an addition of the flawless winter moonlight teeming along the glistening stars that possess true beauty in appreciative awe despite diamonds or any other kinds of different gems that some others gaze toward the window of a jewelry store especially a pawn shop, he would hardly witness anything so breathtaking such as this heretore in his youthly adult life until today.

Accurately an excellent observation of the blissful dusk that will surely become a perfect medicine to cure every brain such as the kind spirited Moto's into a non state of paradisic dreams to simmer away the dreaded nightmares about violence, greed, then mostly as well as the Shadow Realm.

Few seconds have swifted like a fox into a marathon race, the entitled dueling champion had finally reached onward to his destination, AKA, the game building after a hard working stroll all over the urban streets holding grocery baggage in both arms just to increase a few muscles inside his slim physique.

"Phew.... Boy, I never knew that doing daily chores like this can be a rough exercise than running laps at the gym in high school. No wonder my Grandpa had went all the trouble for retreating the groceries for our house." Said Yugi, blowing off his panting sighs from his mouth to relinquish his breathing from the usual leg work by walking.

"But on the bright side, at least I made back to the game shop safe and sound with all those groceries. Thank goodness for that."

With this cast aside, he would grab onto the handle of the second market bag that was carried into his right hand with the left one as his other dives inside his leather school pocket to fish out his keys before unlocking the door.

Until suddenly, unbeknownst to the Dark Magician user who took his swell time on playing the difficult Crane game deep into his pocket to win the keys then began to open the door, it was mysteriously unsealed by an anonymous individual other than his grandfather Solomon Muto, who recently used to live here before his retirement.

Procuring the keys that he successfully dug out of the pocket at last, especially in time to insert it to the keyhole of his residential house, he then shockingly finds that the once sealed door has been Open Sesamed without problems.

"Huh? What the....? Why in the world is the door completely open when I had immediately just locked it before I left? Hopefully it wasn't another Orichalcos incident like the previous one. Or maybe it was a robbery of sort? Looks like I have to find out myself." He said, putting away the keys in his pocket where he gently yank it out from then extends his hand to the knob to slowly push the door open while advancing inside the lobby and wholeheartedly locked the door at once.

Afterwards, he would look as well as investigate around the gamely vestibule in abundant directions even left to right included only to see if the whole object followed with Duel Monsters booster packs are all here, sealed up into the glass counter where they rightly belong.

Relief began to pat the lad's back in reassurance as he himself sighed into fast consolation by dialing his anxiety down to a short minimum. His imaginations have yet again obscure his senses as he chuckled naively cuing his hand to rub his head behind.

"Heh. What a relief. It turns out there's no such thing as an Orichalcous cult nor robbery for me to worry about anymore. Guess it's just me and imaginations again."

He headed horizontally to the kitchen room to lay both bags on the solid table, then slowly unleashes his upping stretches with duo arms in mid air before storing nourishment into cabinets as well as the refrigerator. Speaking of, he simply got started to do so right away.

Exiting from the dining area wiping non sweat off his forehead, the duel strategist would ascend upstairs to his bedroom for a well earned rest and relaxation. Barely realizing about these trails of rare unexpected ignite candles that placed in the hallway while he reaches to the room opening the door. Until an unknown but special surprise in storation has awaited him from the beginning.

"W..Wha? What in Ra's name is all this doing in here? And why are all these scented candles scattered everywhere, even in the hallway I just walk through? And... Is that...a coffin?" He questions in his thoughts, scrutinizing each as well as every unexplainable items that are decently decorated in the restful lair.

Preventing himself from the attempts of drowning within an inescapable ocean of craziness yearning to engulf him thoroughly downward its throat following the stomach, Yugi shook offward his conscious opinions as he carefully tip toped to the coffin in wonders of what or who could be inside of it. Praying that won't be his beloved grandparent, whose already in Domino Retirement House For Elders such as him, to be in that case.

Although before that his soft mitted fingers would outstretch its path toward it, the door of the undead casket, have been thrusted unrushingly open by a masculine palm that undoubtedly belongs to someone, especially to Yugi, incredibly familiar.

A nameless person, an unbeatable sexy version, had later started it all as a masterplan only to lure his "victim* into a "false sense of security" by unsealing the lock of entry door downstairs, then placing the candles in the hall as a clue for the youthed individual to follow.

Once the coffin door have served its purpose by agaping itself easingly for this stranger, now emitted himself out of the cist then landed on the stainless carpet donned into a kinky black vampiric attire that matches his leathering pants and cape, with a tighten crop top hugging the masculine pecs insanely excluding the godly, hardened midriff adding with six packed abs gifted by the deities of beautification themselves.

Making his beguiling approach straight over to his "captive" swaying side to side with the movement of his chiseled hips, Hiding his flexing arms in the back of his head while flashing his handsome grin of a casting spell toward the now astonished boy, who he usually remembers as his loving partner from the Millennium Puzzle just in time to infiltrate his expression by a cherry blush.

"P....Pharaoh?"

"Well, good evening, my dear Aibou~ To what do I deliver this pleasure of meeting such a beautiful young specimen such as yourself~?" Spoke the bewitching Pharaoh, offering his enchantful wink to his bashful astoundee before him then takes the hand planting a kiss.

"This is unbelievable.... You did all of this, for me..? But I thought that a burglar had broken into our establishment just to steal something from the store. Not to mention training cards too. Please tell me I'm hallucinating...."

"He he he he~ It is alright, Yugi~ You are not having a bad dream or an unrealistic nightmare at all~ For everything around here is utterly pleasant and safe as it is right now~ There are no signs of criminalities, casualties, and most importantly, not the Shadow Realm~"

"Really?"

"Indeed~ A Pharaoh such as myself, shall never deceive one another~ Including not to you, my adorable partner~"

"Aww... Pharaoh~..."

"That is the truth I have spoken~ Now then, allow me to perform the honors of absorbing the concerns throughout the kiss from your peaceful lips~..."

The dracularic seducer, now closer enough to Yugi, begins to inflict his manly hands upon his lover's chipmunk cheeks as well as accelerate his face toward his former vessel at a romantic speed only in the precise timing to inject his lips deeply inside the compassionate mannered youngling, who too, then responded into a sweet osculation.

Entrapping as well as cuddling each other in the comfort of Yugi's bedroom during this center of an eternal smooching, seconded with the Game King directing his lips and tongue to sexually trace even savor a sweet taste abundantly over the half teen's sensitive neck countless times.

"O....Ohhh~... Oh Pharaoh~.... Pharaoh~.... Please don't stop savoring my neck~.... I find it rather enjoyable when you do it~....." Moaned Yugi, singing out his sexy cries from his lungs.

"Mmm~... Yes, my darling mortal~.... Release your harmonious voice and sing for me~.... For such music is very suitable to the emperor such as I~ Yet none shall ever become more lovely and trustworthy than you~..." Replied the pleasuring king, limitlessly making intense love onto the duelist's collarbone.

Once more, true serenity combined with the decent atmosphere that is Fall, have cherished everyone as well as everything within the depths of Domino into a thoughtful hug. Never forgetting, to also combine the beloved dueling duo such as Yugi and The Pharaoh Atem as one in a romantical moment.

The End

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: October 26, 2001

Lyrics:

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places, worn out faces

Bright and early for the daily races

Going nowhere, going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression, no expression

Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow

No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles, it's a very, very

Mad world, mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good

Happy birthday, happy birthday

And I feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen, sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me, no one knew me

"Hello, teacher! Tell me, what's my lesson?"

Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles, it's a very, very

Mad world, mad world

Songwriter: Roland Orzabal

Enlarging your world

Mad world

SongFacts:

👉📖