#it’s always the same old bull i fear

[lonelysatoru]

just saw the jjk leaks. wish i could say i was surprised but this shit getting very predictable

[leonscottwolfkennedy]

WOLF VIKING (WORLD CIRCUIT RIGHT BEHIND ARAN RYAN) SCROLL DOWN FOR HIS INFO

HIII HELLOOOO HERES WOLF VIKING!!! I HOPE YALL LOVE HIM!!. Btw yall can draw him !!! and do any sorta oc interactions i dont midn!! So basically heres some info abt him because hes so silly. Wolf Viking is 23 years old, born to the swedish heavyweight champion Viking Wolf (Yes Wolf took his fathers boxing name.) Wolf is actually named Luke Johansson. He was born in sweden gothenburg. And he does fall on the light welterweight class. He watched his father always box so he wanted to box yk! Although he never had a good relationship with his dad after he lost his belt to a strange guy when Luke was just 9 years old. Luke has a vampire tooth, which i drew real quick

this shit, which i actually have irl too!! it protrudes a bit making it seem like he has a skin fang. He gets made fun because of it. Luke has three moles on his face at the same cheek. Aswell as freckles. He has bite marks on himself, not due to him being a stereotypical depressed swede. no its because its a stress relief. although he cant really show himself biting his own arm. because yk, weewoo medical is on their way. Luke has a special move (that im drawing) called Wolf pounce, where just like Aran ryans headbutt. He presses himself onto the ropes, before getting on it and jumping up and doing a headpunch onto his opponent. and how its shown is due to him dilating not only his pupils but his full on eyes until they are black and then he backs up. Luke is a chill guy but also nervous alot. Nobody knows why and he just wont open up. His worst enemies are, don flamenco, Super macho man, aran ryan and somehow soda popinski. Even though hes in the world circuit, he was over thrown by aran ryan. Luke enjoys the company of glass joe, von kaiser, piston hondo, bear hugger, bald bull and great tiger. Well he wont outright say it because hes too nervous. He does have some anger issues, such as in the ring and or just from being teased. he likes the scent of anything cinnamon, apple, coconut and or vanilla. and he loves peach ice tea. He likes cold showers aswell. and always makes sure he hides his coconut lotion. BECAUSE IK ONE BIG ASS MAN WILL STEAL IT FROM HIM. LITERALLY SNAPS MY NECK TOWARDS SUPER MACHO MAN. He dyes his hair black aswell, he originally has blonde hair. And out of the ring luke is known to run away from any sort of touch unless its medical. like an arm over his shoulder he has now climbed ontop of the lockers in fear. and bro has alot of secrets also teehee!

Luke has some rule infractions, that i will get into a later post!! but i hope yall like him!!

[joenotexotic99]

Hey! I love your work so much! Like your writing is actually beautiful! Anyway, I was wondering if you could do some of the Easy Boys if you were to tell them your pregnant? If not that’s totally ok, I completely get it. I just thought it would be kinda cute lol. I was wondering if you could include Bull, Lieb, Gene, and Winters along with whoever you want bc let’s be honest, I’m in love with them all.

A/n hope you liked this anon! <3

Warnings, so much fluff, slight language, probably needs a spell check.

Bull Randleman

You weren't sure of how he'd react, sure you loved each other but you never got to the point of whether or not you were having kids. When you did tell him his face stayed neutral, you almost thought that he was upset at first until a huge grin displayed across his face. He took you into his arms and gave you the biggest hug. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head, holding you close. He then let go to kiss your stomach. Telling his future kid that he loves them. When he looked back at you he had the most genuine smile.

“son of a bitch, I'm going to be a father”

“Damn right your are”

Joseph Leibgott

You just made this man stop completely in his tracks, you knew how bad he wanted a family so as soon as you found out you were expecting, you went running to tell him. He had the biggest holy shit face. He immediately ran to you and scooped you up. He started to ramble, thanking you and telling you how much he loves you and how happy and excited he is. He then gives you the sweetest kiss. The whole day he sported the biggest smile, if anyone asked why so joyfully he proudly told them that he was going to be a father. If this was a modern au I would totally see him calling you a milf, respectfully 

“holy shit I love you so much, you're amazing you know that? I'm gonna be a dad, jesus”

“The best”

Eugene roe

Like bull you haven't discussed the possibility of having kids. You had no idea what to expect telling him the news. You honestly expected the worst. But all that fear washed away immediately when you saw the excitement in his eyes and the wide smile on his face. He asked you if this is what you want and when you nodded with yes he went straight to hug you. Gene would be so caring with you. I honestly think that he would find trinkets and toys to give you his kid when he's old enough.  Will be such a great dad.

“Are you sure we're ready for this”

“Probably not but one things for sure is you are going to be a great mom”

Richard winters 

you wanted kids and so did winters, you've talked and discussed it before, even going as far as telling what names you liked and disliked. But it was always something you said you would do later in life, so it came as a surprise when you found out you were pregnant so soon. Telling him was exciting and nauseating at the same time. It took him a second to register what you meant, but he was more than excited. Starting a family has been something he's always wanted and now it's a dream come true. He rapped you in your arms telling you how happy he gets to do this with you.

“I love you, you know that?”

“More than you know”

Ronald Speirs

Honestly children were never really in the question. When you and Speirs talked about your future you would talk about beaches and vacations and buying a big house. Never kids. So you were rightfully terrified to find out you were pregnant. You had no idea if Speirs ever wanted kids. When you told him you half expected for him to walk away. It took at least ten seconds for him to make any face acknowledging to you his feelings. That's when he hugged you. When he pulled away he had tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. 

“were having a kid?”

“We are”

“I love you”

[bon2bonn]

Driver profile : Y/N L/N

Name : Y/N M/N M/L/N

Nicknames : N/N , bella , demon spawn, amour , love , sprout.

Nicknames by fans : Valkyrie, the unofficial official grid mom , Merc queen, red bull princess, angel, f2 grid mom , stargirl .

Age : I estimated her to be around 27 (it's not fixed so you can change it to whatever you like)

Birthday : 23 . October . (Same thing , you can put yours or any other date🤷🏻‍♀️)

Birthplace : Sydney, Australia

Blood type : B+

Languages : fluent in English, french + (language of choice) , basic Dutch , Spanish , and a little bit of Arabic.

Resident : between Monaco, London, New York and Sydney.

Personality : spitfire on track , a power that install fear in the hearts of every team and any driver she's up against , believes in actions and hard work rather than words spewed around , so if you have the balls and nerves to poke her , you better have the results to back you up or you won't see the end of it from her or her fans or the rest of the grid .

Known as The grid keeper/ no#1 mom who keeps them in line but could be found in the midst of chaos leading them with their antics and pranks . off track , she's an introverted small bean that can scare the daylight out of you if you rubbed her the wrong way, shy and closed off is the first impression that everyone gets when meeting her but once you get to know her she's the sweetest and most genuine/spontaneous person you'll ever meet , her RBF hides a gentle kind soul , that makes her the best person to give comfort and assurance even if she denies it. Protective bear of her loved ones and won't stop at anything till she make sure they're okay. She either acts like an old lady that complains about her back and knees , or like a little kid on a sugar rush , it's a normal day to find her around the grid at the most confusing places : climbing motorhomes just because/hiding behind tyres while everyone lose their minds trying to find her /sleeping in an ice tup cause she got too comfortable.

Habits: play with her hands when nervous, pout unconsciously when she's too focused on something, pick at her fingers when uncomfortable/stressed (if close , Charles would give her one of his rings to play with , or others would let her play with their fingers to distract her) , jumps whenever she gets exited, tilt her head when confused, clenches her fists/jaw when she gets irritated ( the guys knows when to interfere to stop her from beating someone), sings/humms absentmindedly through her day , do a little dance when happy, talks to herself in a quiet voice.

Occupation :

Former Formula 1 driver

Years of work : (2015-2022)

Racing biography 🏎️ :

*‌Toro Rosso :

2015 alongside : Max Verstappen #33.

2016 alongside : Carlos Sainz #55.

*‌Renault(alpine) : 2017 alongside : Nico Hülkenberg #27.

*‌Alpha Romeo(sauber) : 2018 alongside : Charles leclerc #16.

‌*Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team : 2019 - July 2022 alongside : Lewis Hamilton #44.

Currently:

• CEO/founder of Ingrid and willows brand (2018-now) .

• CEO and representative of L/N international corps (2022-now) .

•reserved driver for (RBR) Red Bull Racing (2023) .

Hobbies/skills : reading, playing piano, camping, hiking, cooking in general (loves backing) , painting specially with her youngest brother, singing, fast learner , have a very strong memory , is a pro at reading people and could tell their emotions and can almost alway tell when someone's lying , skilled stealthy prankster when provoked (by lando and max)..... .etc .

Family members :

‌father : f/N l/N .

‌mother : m/N M/l/N .

‌older brother: Edward l/N .

‌younger brother: Thomas l/N

Father :

Name : F/N M/N l/N

Occupation: CEO/founder of L/N international corps.

Social status: single father of (Edward , Y/N , Thomas l/N ).

Resident: London , UK.

Name : M/N M/l/N

Occupation: not found.

Social status: not found.

Status: alive .

Resident : Rome, Italy.

Name : Edward/Eddie M/N l/N

Age : 30

Occupation: CEO/founder of wildonwall (a worldwide known professional architectural company that deals in designing/building and supervising projects around the world).

Social Status: married to ( Alison Graham ) , father of two (one boy : Marcus/Marc , one girl : Ingrid/gigi ).

Resident: London , UK.

Name : Thomas/Tommy/ben M/N l/N

Age : 22

Occupation: student of fine arts , Oxford university.

Social status: a single Pringle who don't know how to mingle.

Resident: Monte Carlo , Monaco - London , UK.

Facts and background infos :

‌she's the only daughter of the L/N family , but chose to race with her grandmother's maiden name instead . She wanted to establish herself away from her father's name .

‌very independent , and mature beyond her age .‌

she's the backbone of her family, both her brothers and father own it to her for helping them through their lives .

‌she had a complicated relationship with her mother to say the least, she was the one who suffered the most when she left .

‌her parents split up when she was only 5 . her mom walked away leaving them with her baby brother who was barely months old .

‌her mother tried to forcefully take Eddie (the eldest) along with her while their father was out with Tommy, but he refused to part from his sister , resulting in a very traumatic day for the two kids.

‌she watched her dad as he struggled with taking care of them three , feeling like a failure who couldn't tend to his own children.

‌so she took it up on herself to help him take care, comfort and nurture her baby brother.

‌he tried to get her to live her age but she won't stop worrying about her brother and he won't settle unless she's close .

‌just hearing her voice got him from screaming his lungs out to cooing and giggling.

‌their bond only grew stronger as they grew up .

‌he was at his best behaviour when she's around, forgetting about the tantrums and wailing matches he had with his traumatized babysitter who quit the moment their father came back home .

‌her childhood wasn't the most ideal but she got her family with her and that was more than enough for her.

‌her dad was more than relieved when she finally had interest in something other than studying or taking care of them .

‌he watched as her love for racing grow untill he offered to take her to her first grand Prix.

‌she didn't sleep for days after .

‌daniel was her first friend in the sport .

‌they met through one of her uncles friends back in Australia , both didn't like eachother at all .

she was the quiet observing kid and he was the bouncing ball of energy , but they bonded through their love for racing .

‌she moved to Europe (between UK and France) with her dad where she found more suitable competitions to partake in, but she tried to keep in touch with him through the years , but they both got busy and lost connection.

‌she kept to herself and worked hard to build her skills.

Maintaining a healthy balance between her studies and racing .

‌untill she met some of the kids older/close to her age , most didn't take her seriously and even encouraged her to drop racing . But she also met little max .

Both acknowledged the other but kept their distance on the beginning.

‌the boy was blunt and she was unfazed.

‌they respected the other hard work and we're motivated to beat eachother at every race.

‌they surprisingly became best friends with time .

‌both acting too mature for their own good but unknowingly, they both got eachother to act their age as they grew closer .

‌they gave eachother tips and pointers as they sat away from the others before every race they were in together .

‌he'd talk her ears off after every race explaining every detail and every corner and she'd patiently listen to him , adding her own opinion here and there .

‌they were at eachother neck every race, but their friendship was as strong as it could be.

‌they celebrated the winner and encouraged the loser , both hated to lose , but they raced fairly.

‌she got discovered by Christian , and found her way to red bull academy program, Max a year after her .

‌and guess who's there ? Daniel Joseph Ricciardo.

‌they reunited after years , both inseparable even more when she got a seat at Toro rosso .

‌the team was on the brink of a collective breakdown, they already had Seb to worry about , now add those two with Max?

‌cue chaos and mischief , sirens going off with Seb laughing and Christian screaming in the background.

‌fernando saw her and declared war upon whoever dares to hurt this small bean .

Forming a small protection squad (more like him forcing Seb Kimi and Jenson to participate)

Kimi got robbed into it , he didn't even know until he found himself along with the others planning to slash a reporter tires for calling her slow and ignorant .

He thought they were getting coffee !?!! .

‌she was supposed to move to red bull in 2016 but Marko opposed, max was promoted instead, and she left to Renault the following season.

‌in 2018 she moved to alpha Romeo (saubar) alongside Charles leclerc .

Rookie Charles was low-key scared of her , he knew her from their carting days but still felt uneasy with her quiet personality and focused mentality.

The first time they met was a disaster at it's finest.

But she knew how tense and overwhelmed rookies could be in their first season so she tried her best to help him through it .

‌it was an exhausting season but they both survived .

Charles moved to Ferrari and her to Mercedes.

‌Toto offered her a Merc seat for 2019 .

‌lewis had his share of teammates and it didn't end well to say the least with his former friend/teammate (RIP brocedes) or valtteri after .

‌so when she first came in it didn't go well for her .

‌both her and Lewis are hardheaded and closed off, refusing to acknowledge the other Or give in to know eachother.

‌they stayed professional and moved out of the other's way, untill she came around, finding him in the back of his driver's room, sitting on the floor , his head on his hands after a shitty with a dnf .

‌she kept quiet and sat down with him letting him have his moment of silence but assuring he don't have to be alone .

‌after an hour or so, she took out her phone , showing him her family dog pics and videos , getting him to crack a smile and even few laughs before she let him talk about his own Roscoe, promising to let her meet him when they go to Silverstone.

‌the roles reversed when he found her in an empty office at the back of the garage , she got an earful from Toto and couldn't get a word in , her notes are always dismissed and her engineer wasted time until it's too late to listen.

‌he sat beside her, letting her lean on his shoulder in a way of comfort , letting her play with his rings to calm down.

‌they built a support system . and it resulted in building a solid foundation for a dynamic team.

But that won't mean she'll let her work go to waste because of the team's orders.

... : Y/N.

Y/N : yes?

James : Y/N, This is James, listen.....

Y/N : no James! You listen! Just because..........

Her radio messages never disappoint.

Yeah they give her a hard time , but they didn't know what was waiting for them .

She adapted quickly to the new team and their methods of work , it went as well as it could be up to 2021 .

Shit hit the fan and she almost die/quit .

But she stayed put , ending the season in 3d 🥉.

2022 things moved up a little, with her chances of getting the championship almost equalling Max's, him being ahead with only 24 point .

But Mercedes had their own plans.

Mid-season change in plans Leading to her leaving/getting replaced with George Russell , concluding her journey with Mercedes AMG team.

*Let me know if I missed something ✨

[cookie-crumblr]

AU’s With Alastair~

Animal hybrid AU

Part 1

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: F! reader/reader has a vagina, NSFW, reader and allie are owned by a human, treated like animals, heat, non human genitalia(he has a barbed cock), lactation kink, loss of consciousness, breeding kink, creampie, biting,

!!MINORS DNI!!

You were born to a cute cow lady, and Alastair to a gorgeous feline. It all seemed completely meant to be, as you came to be at the same time.

At least he saw it that way.

You and him grew up always by each others sides’ on a farm in the countryside, far away from anything else.

His mom abandoned him with his little sister and brother, which you don’t think is uncommon for cat folk.

But you bet it would be hard for anyone, let alone a small child that now has to care for two other children with only himself.

You are both older now.

Once your respective cycles started, you had to start taking short breaks from each other.

And now you’re old enough to “work” on the farm like the other hucow ladies…

“Alright girl, you’ll have to settle with a bull eventually,” The farmer spoke a little agitatedly or maybe just tiredly, either way your heart wracked intensely with guilt.

Today had felt so painfully long.

The farmer brought bull hybrids in from all across the country to court you…

Your big eyes stay downcast, wetness clumping your pretty lashes. “I know… ‘m sorry sir, I jus’… Don’t love any of them proper.”

The farmer lets out a long sigh, “Get some rest, Y/N”

Neither you nor the farmer were aware of Alastair watching from the second story window of the bright red barn.

“That stupid farmer.” His ear flicks irritatedly as he thinks. “only caring about production, and not for Y/N at all…” His fists ball while burning holes into the side of the farmer’s head with his stare. “Why’s it gotta be a bull anyway?” He wonders.

Has a hybrid of another species been able to impregnate another hybrid before?

He’s absolutely sure it’s possible.

If not, he’ll make it possible.

Besides, nobody loves you more than he does.

A breeze passes through your hair, and flows all the way up to Allie. Ears now perked up and swiveled all the way toward you, he can smell your heat coming.

That’s probably why the farmer is in such a rush to get you mated.

Alastair has always stayed away from you while you both were on your cycles, for fear of ruining what you have together.

This time he can’t.

Tomorrow he’ll stay with you.

Another evening comes and Alastair finds you whining and writhing in your stable, you’re clearly burning up and desperate.

Face shining with sweat, with barely any clothes on, and the fabric that does try and cover you, is instead stuck to your skin, showing him your peaked nipples and your puffy, glistening lips through it.

He stops in his tracks, mouth agape, his tiny fangs peaking out from behind his lips.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting.

But god, it wasn’t this…

He thought he was ready.

His shorts are feeling uncomfortably tighter.

You notice him as he swallows.

“Allie! uhm….” You start to cover up with a jean jacket, and he rushes over to you.

“Y/N, it’s… *ahem*… It’s okay! I’m actually here to help!”

“Allie…” Tears stain your cheeks. You get on your knees and present to him, “Then… Please, help me.”

A harsh swallow bobs his addams apple, making his choker shift.

He’s ready.

He takes his claws to your shorts and rips right through them, the freedom, and chill of the air sends shivers through your body.

He untied the silk ribbon he uses as a belt, and undid his shorts.

Next his crochet sweater was discarded to the hay covered ground.

“Wait, Y/N… I-wanttofaceyou…”

You oblige, thinking he’s adorable, and roll over, legs spread, inviting him in.

You’re breathing heavily.

He lifts your top exposing your chest.

Then he leans down to literally kitten lick your nipple, and gently flicks the other one, taking turns for both without leaving the other.

The effect is maddening.

You’re whimpering and throwing your head this way and that. Little “pleases” and “oh my goodnesses” falling from your part lips.

He smiles at this, getting the exact reactions he’s always imagined from you. His perfect beloved.

Dick now taken in his hand, he slaps your puffy cunt, before rubbing it down.

Something kind of stings as he drags down, but it’s so hot and hard it feels like everything you need right now.

“Please, Alastair… I want you inside me… I… really do love you.” You say desperation, and truth seeping from your words.

He almost breaks hearing those four words at the end, but he sets that aside for after, when he can just cuddle you. And tell you how much he’s always loved you.

His tip slides into your desperately wet hole, opening you further.

“Ahhh” You shudder as you begin to feel that which your body craves.

He slowly bottoms out, and stays there, feeling you pulse around him. His head becoming light.

He has to move.

He pulls out quick to snap him back in control of himself.

“AHHH!” You barely make out the scream as your own voice as you black out in an instant. Sharp pain and harsh, hot pleasure zapping through your insides at the same time as if a lightning bolt came down and smited you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Oh no, oh fuck, oh god” Alastair babbles as he accidentally slides back into you, to meet his face to yours.

He cradles you, his body smaller than yours, but he’s always been way stronger than he appears.

“Y/N…”

You come to only seconds later, your body burning hotter than before, you gasp, and pant.

“Allie? what… happened…”

“I didn’t think….” he’s crying into your neck. “I-I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t of-”

“It felt so good…”

“What?” His cheeks reddened. “I mean, are you sure?”

Ending his thought you brought his face down to yours for a kiss. He rocked deeper into you In response.

You felt that familiar drag, as he rocked back slightly, before jamming himself in all the way.

“You like that? You want me to plow into you?” His demeanor completely changed in a split second. “Say Squishmallow if you want me to stop.” He leans in to whisper, and then kisses your neck.

You nod enthusiastically.

His hand finds your tit, when he looks down suddenly. “Wait, Y/N! Look! You really don’t need a bull!” he holds his now wet hand up.

You shift to look down and sure enough you’re lactating!

He hurries to shove one in his mouth and begins to suck, and lick as he paws at the fatty part. This is your first time being milked, and it’s your best friend!

It feels heavenly.

his tongue doing laps around you.

You cry out, “Alastair!” followed by a series of “Oh”’s

He starts pushing as deep as he can go into you.

He pulls out slow this time, as he does the pleasure mixes with pain and you feel yourself producing more and more milk, it’s building up so fast in the one he’s neglecting.

“Please! hah! swap!” You moan exasperated.

He releases with a hearty *pop!* And quickly switches to your other breast, not leaving the other one defenseless this time, he squeezes and rubs circles around your nipple.

“Your milk tastes so good, Y/N, this farm is so lucky!” his eyes are clouded over now with lust.

He’s all the way out of you again, and he slams back in with all of his might causing you to bounce.

“Ahh!” You’re almost shaking it feels so good! “M-More!” you moan.

He obliges and pulls out not as slow, but still slow enough you don’t pass out again. Then he sets the pace for the session.

Slamming into you over and over again, your legs and hips folding more and more each time so he can get impossibly deeper.

He’s purring now, vibrating your sensitive buds as he alternates and sucks on each one, never leaving either unattended.

His skin is slamming against yours, and you swear at this point you feel him hitting your cervix.

You need his cum so badly, your body burns with this sole desire as you’re becoming so overstimulated.

You’re sure you’re babbling nonsense at this point but he continues to pound you as if he has no other purpose but to breed you right here, right now.

“Are you close?”

“Yesh,” you let out a breathy slur, mind hazy and floating with the stars above.

He pounds impossibly harder, rocking your bodies into the wooden wall of the stable.

You hold on for dear life as you come undone around his cock.

Seconds later with one final thrust and he’s shooting thick, hot ropes into you. You feel so full and your temperature starts to decrease back to normal instantly.

You squeeze him, as he lets go of your chest with another satisfied *pop*

“I love you, Allie…”

“I love you too, Y/N, so freaking much.”

He stays inside you as he readjusts to cuddle on top of you, limbs tangled, and both of you breathing heavily.

A little too soon later and the farmer is walking in, he doesn’t give you even a chance to hide Alastair, before spying you both.

“What is this?!”

“Sorry sir!” You sit up, tipping Allie off of you

“Woah!” He exclaims, as he slips, sliding out of you, his cum leaking onto the floor.

“AH!” You squeal from his exit, as milk sprays from your still engorged tits.

The farmer’s eyes widen, “Well… I can’t really complain with this outcome.” He takes his hat off to scratch his balding head. “Well Alastair, looks like you officially work for me now, specifically with Y/N.” he turns to leave mumbling, “if it works, it works i guess… How come i ain’t never thought of cat folk?”

You both giggle, before your temp starts to rise again.

“Allie! Help?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he folds you over yourself again, and slips in easier this time.

“Oh, you’re perfectly prepped from last round… Remember the safe word?”

“mmhmm!”

This time he bends over to your neck and bites you as he pulls out. It hurts in both places, but it feels so good, like an electric shock going straight through your body to your core.

He’s back to purring loudly as he starts to slam back into your abused and throbbing pussy.

You both come quicker this time, your moans and his mewls becoming one mini orchestra to your fuzzy ears.

His tail swishing with his motions, and yours sticking straight out, as tensed as your curled toes.

You feel his hot cum filling you up for the second time, you can tell it’s even more this time, and your own orgasm milks him for everything he’s worth.

This time after, you both drift off into a comfortable sleep, while holding eachother close as possible.

When you wake again, you’ll still have eachother, and you’ll be together for whatever comes next…

[soylent-crocodile]

Storm Soldier (Monster)

(Art by Anonynmous)

(I considered playing coy with my inspiration here, but let's be clear with it- this a fantasy 40k Space Marine, played not as protagonists but as tragic yet terrifying monsters for the more humanist playgroups most of my RPG experience belongs to. Statting them up as monsters, in my mind, helps distance players from the power fantasy of it; if you ever wanted a ragtag pack of underdogs to bring those marty stu marines down a peg, well, here's a monster to kill! And you if you want a sad little war machine your players can adopt and deprogram, it's the same deal.

By the way, I have them statted up as scattered force that can be dropped into any setting, but I'd love to use them as the terrifying enforcers of one of the more powerful political players in a world, like they are in 40k.)

CR8 LE Large Monstrous Humanoid

Also called storm marines, storm dragoons, and thunder warriors, storm soldiers are the result of painful fleshwarping techniques being used on young human soldiers, turning them into massive and obedient soldiers. Unlike with the creations of the drow, it is generally humans of a storm soldier's own culture who turn them into such monsters- leaders who value them more as weapons than as people. The process is traumatic and violent, and involves not only reshaping the flesh, but conditioning the mind to be loyal soldiers before all else. This leaves the storm soldier with a distant sense of her past life and a lot of buried trauma. They are functionally immortal, and often outlive the regime which created them. Storm soldiers are difficult to create, and those who do tend to spread their soldiers thin, with one or two storm soldiers assigned to a squad of mundane soldiers as linebreakers, guardians, and support.

This is not always the case, however. Centuries ago, a powerful shaman amassed a legion of these soldiers in a harebrained attempt to take over the world and unite it under his idea of order. His forces, however, became fractured- although sources differ on how, with some claiming the influence of a specific breed of fiend, and others believing it was a mundane power struggle. The result of this fracture was the death of the shaman, along with most of his generals, and the small remains of his forces scattered to the corners of the world. To this day they live in deadly xenophobic warbands; in particular, they have a hatred for elves, orks, and skeletons, although most still clash with each other in echoes of the original split. 

Storm giants notably have a strong emotional reaction to storm soldiers; evil groups of giants typically do what they can to scourge them of the earth, but good-aligned storm giants tend to feel extreme pity and often attempt rehabilitation of storm soldiers. Younger storm soldiers (that is, less than a couple hundred years old) are often a success in this endeavor, but those as ancient as the shaman’s army are almost universally too far gone.

Some rulers believe that storm soldiers can only be created out of men, although this is generally considered to be a laughable falsehood.

This hulking woman wields a massive shield and weighty warhammer. She towers over her companions, and her eyes are leaking a glowing fluid. Misc- CR8 LE Large Monstrous Humanoid HD10 Init:+0 Senses: Perception:+8 Stats- Str:20(+5) Dex:11(+0) Con:24(+7) Int:14(+2) Wis:10(+0) Cha:6(-2) BAB:+10/+5 Space:10ft Reach:10ft Defense- HP:125(10d5+70) AC:18 (-1 Size, +7 Armor, +2 Shield) Fort:+10 Ref:+7 Will:+7 CMD:36 Resist: Immunity: Fear, Fatigued, Exhausted, Electricity Offense- +1 Shocking Warhammer +15/+10(2d6+6+1d6/x3), or Slam +14(1d8+5 plus grab) CMB:+16 Speed:40ft Special Attacks: Clarion Shock +14(8d6 electricity, target is illuminated as with Faerie Fire) Feats- Power Attack, Improved Bull Rush, Weapon Focus (Warhammer), Vital Strike, Intimidating Prowess Skills- Climb +13, Escape Artist +5, Intimidate +16, Knowledge (Local) +7, Knowledge (Nobility) +7, Perception +8, Ride +13, Survival +13, Swim +13 Special Qualities- Illuminating Gaze Ecology- Environment- Cities Languages- Common Organization- Squad (1 Storm Soldier, 4 Human Warrior 6) or Thunderhead (4 Storm Soldier, 6 Human Warrior 6) Treasure- Standard (Large +1 Shocking Warhammer, Large Field Plate, Large Steel Shield) Special Abilities- Clarion Shock (Su)- As a standard action a storm soldier may pump a blast of glowing lightning into a target as a melee touch attack. Additionally, creatures hit by this attack are illuminated in golden light as with the spell faerie fire for 10 rounds. Illuminating Gaze (Su)- A storm soldier’s eyes glow in brilliant pale yellow, illuminating a 60ft cone in front of the storm soldier two light levels.

[toastedjeans]

Introducing...

TOWER OMENS

A Good Omens and Pizza Tower crossover AU! Because apparently i love combining stuff that couldn't be more different from each other and seeing how it fits.

HEADS UP! If you aren't familiar with Good Omens or haven't seen the series yet, i highly recommend you ignore this post. There will be spoilers! Block the tag "#Tower Omens" for future posts if necessary.

With that out of the way, let's get right into it! [LOTS OF TEXT AHEAD I'M SO SORRY]

But before we look at the characters, a thing i want to mention is that instead of London, most of the events will take place somewhere in Italy. That means that some events, locations, and references will be different from the source material. You'll see what exactly i mean when we get to the timeline changes.

Oh also this will be pepstavo heavy. Because it's my AU and I'm predictable.

Anyway, here's the characters + the percentage of how likely it is they'll keep that role

Peppino as Crowley [1000%]

For being a demon, he's actually a surprisingly good person, and would never hurt anyone innocent. He fell cause he got mad one too many times, and now he's got trauma from the Fall. Other demons don't trust him and keep making his existence harder than it already is. He hates being reminded of the angel he once was, it makes him feel like a failure. Despite that, he would never want to become an angel again, in fear of falling again and going through the same traumatic experience a second time. Also Maurice is up there.

Instead of a snake, his animal form is a cow. No, not a bull. For reasons. His demonic mark is a big mole, burn mark, or scar in the form of a cow's head/skull located on his upper arm.

Instead of the Bentley, Peppino will drive an old Vespa, AND he'll be the one with an establishment. So instead of Aziraphale's bookshop, there will be Peppino's pizzeria! His pizzas are the best in town, not because he yells at them to be better, but because he's just so passionate about cooking. He has small horns he has to hide underneath various hats, and unlike Crowley, he can only marginally change his hair. Sure, he can make them longer, but he'll remain bald so he won't ever be able to hide the horns underneath hair. Usually he wears a chef's hat, and only takes it off around someone he trusts. Also, because of the anxiety, he's a terrible liar.

Lastly, he absolutely hates rats, and only tolerates them when he sees how sweet Gus is to them. But he would never hurt them of course. He just thinks they shouldn't be anywhere near him. Ever. But spoiler alert, he warms up to them cause of Gustavo.

Gustavo as Aziraphale [1000%]

As an angel, he's a good person, but he can still be mischievous at times. He can hide his nervousness pretty well, therefore he is a decent liar, and always here to help Peppino out of a situation when he can't come up with a lie himself. He's very powerful and can get extremely scary when angered. You know he'll kick Maurice's ass once he finds out how he used to treat Peppino.

Gus used to just make food appear with miracles, but after asking Peppino why he didn't do it as well, Pep teaches him how to cook. He sees how passionate he is and how much he's enjoying himself, so he starts to enjoy it a lot as well. They then become coworkers in the pizzeria.

He's more comfortable with experimenting with clothes, so he will appear more feminine in various eras, and sometimes still with the moustache because yes. He has an affinity for animals, especially rats. Instead of magic tricks, he will train rats and then do a little rat circus show (he doesn't harm them of course). Sometimes he feeds rats after shifts and talks to them, basically to keep them out of the pizzeria while Peppino is near.

Maurice as Metatron [95%]

Our favorite scumbag. He used to bully Peppino relentlessly, and still keeps insulting him even when he's not around. But he shuts up around Gustavo cause he's incredibly afraid of him, but won't ever admit it. Knows how powerful he can get. Is always kinda aggressive, but mostly just talks shit and threatens anyone who crosses him with The Fall™. Since he's God's right hand everyone is kinda afraid of him. Hates Noisette and is glad when she disappears and later on leaves

Noise as Beelzebub [95%]

You know he hates Peppino. When he's in hell, he wears his suit, and his rat ears and tail are visible. But when on Earth (he doesn't come there often, he hates it), he sometimes wears his regular outfit to hide his ears and tail. It's really uncomfortable to him though. Instead of flies, he has fleas who are always surrounding his head. They look like tiny Noisys :).

He'd never admit it but he has a huge crush on Noisette. Even gave Noisette a flea container that now lives in her bunny hood.

Noisette as Gabriel [95%]

First off, major change from the series, hear me out. She's besties with Gustavo. While she's sort of the leader of Heaven, she sometimes lets herself get pushed around by other archangels when there's things she doesn't wanna do. Like punishing Gustavo after the failed Armageddon event. She still feels bad that she had to do this.

Other than that, she's oblivious as hell (pun not intended). She loves spending time with Noise and doesn't care that he's a demon. Or maybe she doesn't quite realize. I mean, he's nice to her, and he's funny. Anyway, even on Earth she keeps her bunny hood up, almost like it's part of her.

As Jim, she will be called Hazel. Since i don't want her to come back naked she just doesn't have the bunny hood on. It triggers her memories but she gets headaches from them, so she can only keep wearing it after getting her memories back. One of Noise's fleas is always on her and she keeps accidentally almost killing it by scratching herself.

Mr Stick as Michael [70%]

Really wants to be in charge, but he doesn't know what he's doing. He relies on the other archangels to do his job but he still wants to be the leader. Just. Without the responsibilities or having to make choices. He thinks he's extremely smart and knows everything better than anyone else. But when tested he insists that everyone else is tricking him or cheating (his waluigi side is showing...). Wants to be intimidating but i mean look at him. He's a twig. I could snap him in half with one hand. And I'm damn weak.

Burton as Sandalphon [70%]

Another one who's very different from the series. He's sweet and polite, but can be a little intimidating due to being Very Large™. He wouldn't hurt a fly though. He's also very good friends with Gustavo and Noisette, but like Noisette, he's sometimes pressured into being mean or cruel - such as attempting to kill Gus - by the other archangels

Fake Peppino as Shax [85%]

He'll be called Bruno in this. He never met Peppino despite looking like him, and being his replacement after Pep got banned from Hell. When angered, he can get extremely intimidating, but mostly he just doesn't quite understand how humans work. His speech is reversed, and only demons can understand him, but others can learn to understand him if they take the time.

He appears more goopy in Hell, like his in game sprite, and looks like the Nothing Compares guy when on Earth, but still can't speak normally. He either uses sign language when having to talk to humans, or just gestures around. Or he thinks he's doing sign language but actually just says gibberish.

In the end when Noise and Noisette are reunited, he gets promoted to Duke of Hell by Noise, but he doesn't want the position so he gives it to someone else.

Pizzahead as Lucifer; Pizzaface as Satan [99%]

Look. If Satan and Lucifer are the same character, then both are just different forms. In my head at least. Pizzaface is Satan (more demonic, huge, gets destroyed), and Pizzahead is Lucifer (more humanoid, human height, may return later).

While PF is more for intimidation, PH is more for visiting Earth in secret or when having to go through the Hell offices. PF created Fake Peppino and the Peppi clones, nobody knows why he seems to be so obsessed with Peppino that he keeps making demons in his image.

Pepperman as Uriel [89%]

He just really wants to get rid of Gustavo. He may look silly but he can be extremely intimidating, and way stronger than he looks. Selfish as heck. I want him to always wear a feather boa, both in his angel form and in his human form. And also i want him to look a bit androgynous. Genderfluid icon. Idk where his art would come into play but I'll find a way probably. Maybe his art form is fashion. So he's always wearing some kinda extravagant clothes, at least when he's on earth. Plus the feather boa.

Vigilante as Hastur [85%]

Basically looks the same as in game while in Hell, but with horns on his cowboy hat. On Earth he looks like a human cowboy. Idk how else to describe it lol. Even if he didn't like Doise very much, he's still mad at Peppino for killing him. He witnesses the Holy Water™ incident and tells Noise, but Noise doesn't believe him.

Doise as Ligur [95%]

Looks very similar to Noise, but unlike him, Doise isn't a rat, but a raccoon. Him and Vigi didn't really like each other that much, but they still preferred each other's company over anyone else's (especially Noise's). He dies via Holy Water but it's not as straightforward as you'd think (explanation below)

Peddito as the Holy Water [95%]

This secret special liquid is made for angels to kill demons easier. When thrown to the ground, it shapes into a sort of clone of the being who used it, but with hollow eyes, which is supposed to confuse or scare the opponent. It has the same strengths and weaknesses as the original, but without fears or other pesky feelings in the way. Since Peppino throws it, it will turn into a form that resembles himself. The liquid will then chase and kill the first thing it sees, in our case Doise, and then vanish with him. Like, he'll just vaporize or something. Only angels know about this weapon, and it is only used in extreme situations.

Peppiclones as Eric (disposable demon) [100%]

There's just. So many of them. Sometimes they get in a fight and kill each other before someone can give them instructions. Feral. Fake Peppino hates them cause they tend to get on his nerves quickly and rarely listen to him (which is impressive since it takes a lot to make him angry or annoyed)

Brick as the Hellhound [100%]

Brick will start out as a Bad Rat, and will turn into a Stupid Rat once given a name. Yes, she will still be gigantic. But she's the only giant rat, all the others are normal sized. Won't stay with Fungo, i really want her to stay with Gustavo (or at least reunite later on?). I don't care there has to be a reunion between them. Maybe Fungo is going to college and can't keep Brick, and the parents can't provide anymore. Idk. I love Brick i want her and Gus to stay friends

The Toppins as the Them & Warlock [101%]

Mushroom as Adam -> human name Fungo

Cheese as Wensleydale -> human name Gio (short for Formaggio)

Tomato as Brian -> human name Tom

Sausage as Warlock -> human name Saul or Soos

Pineapple as Pepper -> human name Pina

Pizzelle as Maggie [75%]

She's hopelessly in love with Rosette, but way too anxious to talk to her. Actually isn't sure if Rosette is flirting with her or if she's that nice to every customer. Sometimes she says things before thinking about them and regrets it later (she lets the demons into the pizzeria). Keeps thinking she's not good enough for Rosette or that she hates her

Rosette as Nina [75%]

She owns a cafe and bakery. Always has a smile on her face and is sweet to everyone she meets. She did just go through a breakup with her toxic partner, but tries to downplay it by acting like nothing happened. Actually didn't realize her partner was really manipulative and controlling until talking to Pizzelle about it when they're shut in during the power outage. She's not quite ready for a new relationship yet but keeps Pizzelle in mind, they're besties for the time being :)

Pizzano as Mr. Brown [55%]

He's an aspiring actor, but can sometimes be too much in his role, so that he keeps convincing himself that Pizzelle is his arch rival. He makes videos/short films on the internet (i don't wanna say he's an influencer but it goes in that direction). He doesn't quite have a crush on Gustavo, but he enjoys his company a lot more than Peppino would like.

✨ Timeline changes ✨

|| Before the beginning ||

Peppino used to be an archangel, he had bigger wings and hair (sorry Pep). Like Crowley, he created the stars but he used something like an oven for it, or maybe a cauldron. He used to be kinda apathetic towards other angels, and only liked creating stars. But he does eventually talk to Gustavo cause he seems genuinely interested in what he does, and nobody ever showed appreciation towards him or his work. Maurice was already a total asshole to him, which obviously angered Peppino, and then he just let him fall one day, stating that he wasn't behaving like an angel should.

Gustavo was a kinda low tier angel, basically just a messenger for other angels. Nice to every angel he meets in hopes of becoming friends. Unlike Aziraphale, he won't immediately be in love with Peppino at first sight but he talks to him more often than others so he starts feeling attached quicker.

|| In the beginning (4004 BC) ||

Peppino unintentionally made Eve eat the apple cause he bumped into the tree in his animal form and it landed directly in front of her. He's first on the wall cowering cause he feels guilty. Then Gustavo joins him and tries lifting the mood a little bit. He's aware that it was the plan to let the humans out but didn't know how. Tries reassuring Pep that he didn't do anything wrong. His weapon would probably be a flaming spear or lance. Or a big pizza shovel thing idk.

|| Bildad Era (Land of Uz 2500 BC) ||

Peppino won't tempt Gustavo to eat food, he's too worried about him falling. Since he has trauma from the fall he doesn't want Gus to go through the same thing so he tries to keep him from indulging too much. But Gustavo always wanted to try food. He knows that he won't get into too much trouble for eating food so he risks it.

|| Knight time (Wessex 537 AD) ||

Peppino is basically in the knight transformation, while Gustavo looks kinda like he appears on the Bloodsauce Dungeon title card. He's actually the one suggesting the arrangement, and Pep refuses more out of fear.

|| French Revolution (Paris 1793) ||

Peppino is the one getting captured. Idk why yet. Anyway, it's like Pig City where Gus has to break Pep out. That was my whole thought

|| Grand opening (deleted scene 1809) ||

Peppino opens his pizzeria for the first time. Noise, Vigilante and Doise visit him, congratulating him (begrudgingly) on spreading the Great Plague of Marseille (France 1720). They heard that Peppino was in France somewhere in the 1700s, but didn't fact check any further. He has no idea what's going on. They then tell him to look out cause there's an angel on Earth in the same area, and if he sees them he can just kill them anyway (maybe they make fun of him for being easily scared). Noise says that Da Boss (PH) wants him to come back to Hell and work side by side with him for some reason, he's pissed as hell (pun intended this time)

Meanwhile Gustavo wanted to congratulate Pep on the opening. When he sees the other demons, he hides, but listens in on the whole conversation. Is more careful since Vigilante has very good senses, and Pep doesn't notice him either. He then basically does what Crowley does in that scene, but leaves a little gift for Pep with a note that implies that he made the demons leave. Pep continues not knowing what's going on.

|| Holy water park break up (1862) ||

Peppino asks for holy water just in case of emergencies, but Gustavo refuses. He won't get angry at him, but more worried, so he offers Peppino his angel ring. It functions like a sort of communication device, so Gus would always know when Pep is wearing it. He tells him to put it on when he needs help or someone to talk to. Pep gets pissed, not only because he didn't get the holy water, but also cause he thinks Gus is making fun of him cause of the ring (also maybe he gets a bit flustered). He runs off and throws the ring back at him.

|| War (1941) ||

Peppino somehow became not just part of the mafia, but the boss. He doesn't know how that happened. His outfit will be inspired by Evil Pep. While he does have experience with using guns, it makes him anxious. He remembers when he was forced to kill others, and freezes up when he has to hold a gun. Sometimes smokes a cigar for intimidation purposes, but actually hates smoking, and will have a coughing fit. Goes by Mr. Spaghetti.

Instead of books, Gustavo delivers lab rats. He wanted to rescue them but either the Mafia or Mussolini want to test various nuclear weapons or whatever on them. Idk why. He gets so upset when he realizes the rats were killed by the bomb, but Peppino revives them, even though he hates rats, and gives them back to Gus. Gustavo is officially smitten.

|| 1967 ||

Peppino is for some reason still a mafia boss. Still wants holy water and wants his goons to bring it to him, but Gustavo stops him. He brings him a flask of special Holy Water, and tries again with offering his ring. He adds that he should see it as a reminder that he'll always be there for him when he needs him. Peppino accepts the ring this time. Since it's an angel ring it either burns or itches and he'll get a rash from it, so he wears it around a necklace. From this point on Peppino is seen wearing the ring around his neck, and Gustavo will not have one anymore. He also doesn't replace it. Also i thought maybe Gus appears more feminine here but still with a moustache because yes. I haven't figured out the outfit yet but i think this could be neat.

|| Nanny time ||

Peppino becomes a home tutor instead of a nanny. He's generally nervous around children, and doesn't wanna do or say anything wrong to them. He's afraid that he makes them cry or upset cause then he'll start to panic. Just like me fr.

Gustavo will appear feminine, as a personal cook for the family. He'll have old cartoon granny vibes, a dress with a cutesy lacey apron with hearts on it, long hair in a bun, and big cute oven mitts. Kinda like that one Granny Gnome in Gnome Forest.

|| Angel Disguise ||

During the pizzeria invasion, Peppino goes to Heaven and disguises as an angel, wearing his white hoodie and cap with sunglasses. He'll try to be as authentic as possible so he also wears the ring Gus gave him and kinda forgets it gives him a rash (and also that Gus now thinks something's wrong). Then basically the same things happen as in the series, but with the addition of a very worried Gustavo.

While looking for the Clue™, Gustavo will wear an outfit that's kinda like a mix between Aziraphale and The G sugary spire. Also he will drive that Vespa, even if he doesn't have a license. He promises Peppino to keep it safe of course.

Okay that was a lot. I'll update this post whenever i change some characters around. Still need to figure out Dagon and Furfur (and some others from S1), plus Gerome and John. Hopefully I'll get these roles and characters figured out soon :)

[fiberturkey89]

"Silent Storm"

(A roleswap within my AU, where Jiro was the one Sora met instead of Zanth, takes place before the AU fix Staying Together.)

He had long forgotten what the taste of fresh fruits and meat felt like.

He missed the various types of earth that he used to roam, from the scorching heat of the volcanoes to the pleasant meadows of valleys.

The smell of the lands, a wisp he couldn’t quite grasp anymore.

It danced on his memory akin to the winds that used to aid his wings midair whenever he soared across the realms.

The winds in this place were aritifcal, the lights simulating a soft glow akin to one of his old nests, but without any of that comforting warmth.

He missed the airdrafts that carried him across the lands. The lands were new, different than previously. The people he met along his travels were even more so. He hoped that the few he met reunited with their families and tribes.

Jiro couldn't say the same for these foul ones, however. He eyed the green-eyed one as she departed from the chamber, that one treated him as if he were a mere hippo. Aggressive, without reason. Without thought.

Well. He was above that. He could control his claws and his thunderous breath.

His teeth and eyes had seen more than she could ever fathom. It was only by pure luck that these fools had caught him at all.

Curling up to take a nap, he yawned. Despising how they left him in here with his chipped and shedded scales longer than usual, it was perhaps only luck that they cleaned his prison every week or so.

He supposed it was only one person who really cared enough, anyway. He hadn't seen the one man who came in and cleaned them up now that he considered the length of time...

Peeling his lip back, he hoped that one was alive. Afraid of him as the man was, on occasion, he offered scraps of vegetables from his lunch as compromise to clean the prison without issue.

Jiro considered it ironic luck that one had the brains to keep him content. Using his wings to act as a cover for his head, he readjusted himself with a snort.

He was too tall, too long for this cell, he kept accidentally sitting on or stepping on his own tail. Grumbling, he closed his eyes.

"Is he okay?" A small voice asked, catching him off guard. How long had he been unfocused for? Was he losing his touch?

"I wouldn't worry. It has moments like this where it rests after it sheds its scales. " There it was. The deception, the lies.

Uncoiling from his position to see a newcomer and the green eyed rot-hatch, he was taken aback to see a young human staring at him.

She stared back, a full smile being the thing that greeted him. She lightly waved, and he sniffed in response.

What an odd one. She had no fear, no ingrained hatred for him.

What made this one different from the others?

"Nothing to worry about. It's always been the most responsive of the Dragons we've worked alongside. We simply caught it in the middle of a nap."

The words awed the girl, her eyes widening, though Jiro shot green-eyes a stare that would have even made a bull Elephant in musth halt its charge.

She ignored him, causing his claws to dig into the cold ground below. Fool. When he escaped, she would pay. Her and that red-eye moron.

He had more interesting matters to lend to, however, considering this child was eyeing him with wonder.

"A Dragon..." The girl murmured, approaching his prison. He cocked his head. How curious.

He thought more would know of him, considering how much they lied.

Especially whatever it was red-eyes often did with him in the background. Talking as if they were long time friends.

Jiro snorted at the thought, friends? With a Dragon Hunter? Boars and hippos would fly before that happened.

Though, this human. She resided in this place with them but seemed to have no interest in their occupations.

Other children or teenagers would have certainly spouted their loyalty to the Hunters or their queen by now. Not her.

She was.. young, for a human. Very young. She couldn't be any older than.. what were the words that humanoids regarded their ages with? Ten? Eleven? Something like that.

If his memory didn't fail him.. he was... about ten years older than her? He could be wrong. Humanoids were strange.

"A real Dragon.." The girl uttered again, making Jiro grin softly despite the circumstances.

Few children that came into this chamber gave him more than a passing glance or even recognition.

He had this pink haired one's full attention.

So far, he liked this one. He wondered how long it would take for her to turn violent against him, he thought wryly. All the children seemed to after minimal coaxing.

"I can't believe you're allowed to have them here in the lab- this place is magical!"

Jiro bit back the urge to laugh. This child had no idea what true magic was. It certainly wasn't this 'lab'. Perhaps if he ever escaped, he could have her meet one of the true magic users out there.

He did, however, appreciate that he had been associated with magic. Puffing out his chest in pride, he raised his head to tower above her, showing off.

She giggled, reaching a hand out upwards, and if he could talk, he would have warned her. However..

This time, he nearly laughed proper when her hand bounced off of the prison. He couldn't blame her at all. One couldn't quite see the barrier that separated him and the outside chamber.

Her grin faded for a moment, and he blinked in suprise when it disappeared for longer than a second.

He wanted the smile to come back. No child in his presence should be without a smile. They always did with genuinely instead of an adult.

Doing his best not to side-eye green-eyes, she walked over to the thing that would open his prison, he waited. "Oops, sorry. Let me deactivate the field. This one has long accepted its role in our lab. It won't be any danger."

The field went down, and he had to refrain from thwacking her with his tail in front of the girl. Perhaps if she tested his patience, he'd consider it, even if it meant dying.

He'd at least take this brute with him.

Besides, he was only dangerous when he chose to be, not when he felt like it.

If only they could get that through their skulls.

His eyes focused on the girl who strained to reach her arm over the gap. What an energetic one. Much different than the grumpy adult humans in here.

He supposed that was par for the course, humans seemed to naturally sour as they aged.

Craning his neck to bridge the gap, he pressed his snout into her hand gingerly, knowing how little it took to bowl a human over. He smiled softly, staying still.

She returned the smile with an ear to ear grin of her own, eyes alight with joy. Lightly bumping the edge of his snout to her fingers.

He surpressed the urge to recoil, surprised that she carried a charge like he did. It was faint, but it was undoubtedly there.

She had the Dragons Gift, much like himself. Allowing himself to smile freely in joy, he trilled. It was good to see a hatchling to walk free. She must be hiding it well.

Pressing his snout again, he inhaled her scent and committed it to memory. Smelled akin to flowers.. metal, and.. cats? What an odd assortment.

Her hand was warm, almost as warm as his fathers scales. Smoother than his, however, almost like his mother's velvet scales.

He crooned softly, causing her to break into a fit of giggles. "Awh, you sweet thing! Do you have a name?"

He would've told her his name was Jiro, but he was unsure of how to communicate that-

"Subject 152 stroke 9A. Though the janitor and the lab technicians have taken to calling it Sora."

His tail twitched. He was not an it. He was a he like how the girl was a she.

He had a name, thank you. One that had been gifted to him by his parents. Jiro was a fine name, if you asked him. Not whatever Sora meant.

It sounded like it would be a bad name for a Dragon like him.

The girls eyes widened, so she knew what it meant. Whatever it did caused her grin to vanish. It must be a terrible name for it to disappear. "Sora? The ancient Imperian word for orphan?"

...

Firstbourne's fangs, you lounge around a flock of Dragons to keep up with the latest news once, and then humans consider you family - he swore on the Source Dragons' names he was going to stomp these humans into the ground.

Except the girl, of course. She was a Dragon like he and had given him the proper respect. The others, however..

He had to refrain, very, very, very hard from blasting green-eyes with his lightning. He had to refrain from the thoughts that filled his mind for chewing out those others who called him that.

Even the one who cleaned his prison.

He however, kept his eyes and snout on the girl in front of him, taking care not to let his anger cloud his judgement.

Her eyes turned downcast, her shoulds loosened heavily, and she frowned. "What happened to your family, Sora?"

His jaws hung open for a brief moment, a thought he hadn't been willing to entertain in his time here. If at all since the Merged Lands.

..How were his mother and father and sister? Had they joined those tribes of others that came from other lands?

He wouldn't be surprised if they loosely stood with one, his kin of Thunder Dragon preferred to live in the same general region but never came together, save for mated pairs who would call relatives when it to was to welcome a new one into the world.

He backed away, laying his head down and staring at his scales. Attempting to gauge if they'd ever been caught by these blast rotten boar-brains.

As far he'd been aware, they had escaped safely in another one of the realms before the Shattering-

Breathing suddenly became difficult, his scales felt as if they were being slashed by an Ice Dragon who was trying to attack him.

His muscles tensed in searing hot pain, as if the lightning was being pulled out of his very being.

He roared, crying out in pain as his eyes narrowed at green eyes in hatred, the smile she adorned from seeing him writhe in pain sickened him.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!"

The pull faded, and he collapsed to the cold, hard floor. This cave of despair is the only thing to remind him that he was alive.

His vision was blurry, and his limbs felt as if he was buried beneath a heap of rocks. He panted, greedily inhaling air. He could just barely make out the argument to be having as his hearing faded in and out.

He couldn’t see what was becoming of green-eyes, and the girl, struggling to lift his head, he gave up as his vision continued to darken.

He wanted to see what was becoming of it, if the girl was okay- but he couldn't due to his weakness. "-This is why I brought you here-"

So that was her name.

It didn't suit her.

She had a much fiercer attitude than she let on.

She deserved a better name.

Her parents were weak. If they gave incorrect names to their children, then that meant they had unbefitting names, too.

Giving in to darkness, Jiro forcefully slept, unaware of what happened next and unable to do anything after that.

___________________________________________

The next time he had awoke, he had lost track of the time, coming to with bleary blinks. His scales felt disgusting and heavy.

His wings felt as if they were bound again, cramped and strained in this tiny space.

Shaking the sleep off of his scales and repositioning to rid himself of uncomfortable cramps that followed with, he noticed that it was the dead of night.

A moments peace, then.

Laying back down, his snout bumped into something lightly recoiling with a hiss and crackle of thunder. He calmed when he realized it was..

A bucket of water?

Looking around to make sure it wasn't one of green-eyes' behavioral tests, he carefully lapped at the water. Sighing in relief as it eased his burned veins, as if the rains themself were dousing him.

He kept himself from paying too much attention to the small shape huddled underneath one of the tables.

The door opened, and he quickly hid the bucket under a wing, meeting the guards' gaze with a look of disgust.

The human, wearing a helmet that prevented Jiro from being able to see his expression, simply turned around and muttered something incoherent.

He wouldn't return for a while.

Quickly finishing his water, the dragon sniffed at the bucket again, his eye ridges raising in suprise.

It was indeed one of the rare metals that a dragon like himself required to eat on occasion. The girl knew his kin supplemented their needs with things like these.

Smart one, she is. Very smart. He trilled in approval, even smiling. She would have been a good Dragon.

No, she was a good Dragon.

"I got you one of the copper buckets we use for the calves at the greenhouse," she whispered, approaching him and pulling off her hood.

Calves? Cow? Meat? He licked his chops at the idea of fresh meat. He couldn’t recall what he had eaten last, but it'd must've been ages ago.

Pulling a pack from her back, Jiro's desires for flesh were overtaken by surprise, how had this girl snuck in here unnoticed by annyone?

Was the patrolling really that horrendous? Poor fools, they wouldn't last a day if there was a competent Invader in their midst.

Quickly pulling the keep to his prison down, he noticed her eyes were red and swollen. "I also got you some steel torque nuts... I-I dunno how well these work, but these should give you back some strength."

His gratitude came to a stop when he considered how her own flock must already be turning against her for cutting his torture short.

He had heard the public shaming that they enforced on others for simple mistakes. Green-eyes had made the call to the others that there was a strange one in their group.

He felt a crackle of electricity spark in his jaw.

He would have words with whoever reduced her to this state. If they so much as dared harm this hatchling any more than they had.

Words would be shared with teeth and claws. This was a promise.

Taking out his hatred by ravenously eating the bucket and the small morsels she dropped in gently, he crooned softly - grateful to the child for coming back and giving him food.

She lay some more food down before him, one of them being a favorite of his. "I also got you some watermelon and bananas. Sorry, we don't have any red meat. I can try getting you some fish?"

He nodded quickly after carefully crunching through the watermelon, loving the memories that came back with the moisture rich fruit. He then ate the bananas next, his stomach more content than it had been in possibly seasons.

He felt some some semblance of embarrassment when he tilted his head and motioned to her pack in query after his fill, though.

Hugging herself for a moment, she presented a small thing in her hands that held food. "I do have two potatoes, but they were for me - you can have them if you want?"

Holding them out for him, he fervently shook his head and hissed, nudging the thing back to her chest with a harsh snort, startling her.

"Are.. you sure? I can always get myself more-"

He growled, causing her to go silent. He tenderly raised the thing she was holding to her chin and chuffed. Her food was her food. Not his. "Okay- okay, I'll eat."

He was hungry, yes. But he refused to take the share of a hatchling who had done more than enough for him and, by extension- needed the sustenance to grow into a powerful individual.

Watching her eat her fill, he huffed in satisfaction, the Thunder Dragon reclined in his seat, yawning. His stomach was feeling better, his bones weren't aching as much, and he had company.

Carefully shifting his scales into one corner of his prison, he sighed. The thought of his parents and sister coming back to momentarily haunt them, better him than either side.

If his parents had been the ones captured, either would've died of a broken heart if they'd been separated. His kin mated for life, and his sister had a full life ahead of her.

He's take this agony many lifetimes over if it meant preventing any of them from being captured.

Even if he wished he could escape himself.

He could say the same for the girl who would most likely needed to escape herself, as she was no longer welcome here.

The girl who needed a name. Because her sires were failures at naming their own offspring.

He watched her eat, eyes locked on the exit of the lab. She was brave, definitely, even in the face of being caught and the punishment that came after.

Perhaps he should wait for her to prove herself before he got hasty. After all, his original name had been Thunderstrike before his parents had bestowed his true name once he had completed a feat.

Even the precursor required a feat..

Once she finished, she began to pack her things and pull up her hood - stretching carefully. He inspected her state, good, good. She was healthy. Strong.

While they hadn't exactly conversed, there was nothing wrong with simply being in each others company.

The girl chewed her lip, gazing between him and the door after some minutes of silence. "I could help you escape? There's a city across the desert we can go to! I saw these bird-wyvern things flying during the day.."

Wyverns, what a rowdy bunch they were. Many of them were decent enough company if you were looking for news, very gossipy if you asked him.

However, he shook his head. Attempting to rise, he only fell over, causing the child to lurch forward as if she could catch him.

Hands moved to his snout, and he purred softly in confirmation. He was fine. Simply too tired to move properly.

She wasn't taking no for an answer.

"I can keep bringing you food and we can escape! I promise, I know the best ways out, or-or maybe I can get something that'll help your legs-"

Jiro's frowned, he shook his head. Raising a claw to show how it trembled, his scales chipped and broken, he motioned to it.

The girls eyes furrowed, her lip wobbling. "I can help you," she repeated, this time firm. "I can come up with a plan to get you through the main gate-"

He then lifted up the girls much more stable hand with a gentle bump of his snout. Raising his own claw again and then letting it drop to the cold floor.

"You're not weak!" She blurted out. "You wouldn't slow me down! We just... need to plan properly! I can do it!"

He shook his head again, truly stubborn like a Dragon. He nudged her towards the thing that would raise his prison.

He would slow her down. There was nothing to be said. No amount of planning could help him escape.

He had no fear of death. He would fight until his last breath.

She should, however. She should have a fear of the consequences that come. She had a life ahead of her.

His entrapment could be a lifetime.

The girl, frustrated at her limits, quickly pulled up the field and took off- early enough to avoid the patrol that would come.

Sighing, Jiro lay back down, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. Grateful for her help. Feeling some guilt for having to send her away.

___________________________________________

He was unsure of how long it had been since he saw her last, but she had gotten taller. Longer hair.

She was thinner.

He didn't like that.

She had become sadder, her eyes almost always shiny when she saw how his scales dulled and flaked from the constant drainage.

She hesitated to touch his scarred and scored snout, her once stable hands trembling much like his weakened claws.

Only, hers was out of sadness, his was out of weakness. She was powerful, for being able to mourn over a being she only met twice.

He was ashamed she couldn't see them in their proper luster, ashamed she couldn't see him in the prime of his life.

Yet he still attempted to ask how she was.

She wouldn't answer him. She avoided his eyes.

He felt some level of hurt. He had only been looking out for the Dragon Gifted.

What an odd thing that he would become curious about this girls life in the little time they had known each other.

He still stood strong whenever he saw her after. However, she visited him rarely, sometimes to simply have him as company, other times to share a quiet meal.

The seasons continued to change without him, and he worried for the girl as her eyes began to lose their sheen.

Faintly, but it was there.

__________________________________________

She brought him two watermelons tonight, a fish, a bucket, and torque nuts. "Here you go," she said.

She was doing too much. He could do nothing except offer his company.

He would repay her with the gift of flight when he escaped.

He watched her before he ate, how she turned around partially to keep an eye on the exit. He could see that her spirit was dying faster than he was.

He was the one in the cage, but so was she.

The two ate in silence. It was heavy. Much like the volcanoes he nested in for some nights, bathing in the heavy heat.

This was cold.

He finished his meal, resting his skull against her leg as she ran her hands up his head - her touch was still warm.

Still full of life. Full of power much like he once had.

"We can still try to go to the colored city across the desert," the words were hollow, no fight to them.

They had this discussion before, and she always came out unsuccessful.

She needed to escape. No, he needed her to escape on his behalf.

"I wanna go there," she announced. "But I don't want to leave you behind. It's unfair. You should be free."

He agreed, and he should be free. Where the winds and the thunderstorms call for him, the cool nights and the warm days. The seasons came and went along with him.

It was a distant memory that he could only fathom thanks to the food she was giving him. The seasons hadn't stoppped to acknowledge he was gone, of course.

They stopped for nothing, and no one.

The task of bringing him food was draining her.

Her hand's tremble proved that. He'd seen what an outcast among the flock looked like. She had no place here.

Perhaps it was time. No, it was time. His strength only came back little. The food amount was not enough for him to properly heal himself.

Moving his head away from her leg, he sifted through the dull scales in his prison, his most recent shed having come at a bad time.

He picked up the most rich scale he could and placed it in her lap. Calling up his lightning to gently charge it, for only she would be able to feel it.

This was his gift to her.

"You're giving this to me?" She said, voice hushed. "I... thank you."

He chuffed in welcome, it was a very pretty scale if you asked him.

This was his way of escape, even if he couldn’t be there to see the dusk and dawn, the stars and sun.

He nudged her, pushing her to her feet. "Wh- Sora! What're you.. doing?"

He unfurled his wings, still able to shine that undercurrent akin to lightning as he motioned to the cieling.

"You.. want me to go?" She bit out, and he nodded in conformation. Offering her a smile that no doubt was more of a grimace considering how her lip wobbled.

"But-" He silenced her with a huff and a headshake, forcing himself towards the blasted thing that would entrap him.

No, the thing that would separate him and her.

This was her feat. His test to her.

Make it across the desert to this city and.. live.

She didn't cry but instead, she sighed. "You really are a stubborn Lightning Dragon," her eyes became as glassy much like the sands he would scorch for amusement, and he used his snout to wipe them away.

Jiro wholeheartedly agreed. He and his sister got it from their mother, the comment making him chuckle in amusement. His laughs not as full they would have been some time ago.

The girl hugged his snout, gripping tightly. He pressed against her, gentle to make sure he wouldn't bowl her over.

She couldn't be any more than.. twelve, or thirteen if he was remembering human ages right.

It was a while before the two separated, blue fleckered gold eyes met his own. He bowed his head and trilled gently, motioning her to raise it.

With great reluctance, she raised his imprisonment. Holding her hand there for a few moments as it twitched in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry, Sora."

Jiro, he would have corrected. Instead, he snorted in goodbye to her. Watching her pivot and run out of the lab.

Leaving him alone.

Sora. A name for orphans in this place called Imperium.

It's what the girl would have been calling herself. She and him both knew that.

He disagreed on her being an orphan.

She would always be welcome to his family.

The name spoke of loneliness, of heartache. It's what that name would make most think.

But he had already given her a precursory name, one he considered worthy of the little Dragon.

She would make her own name in time, one that would truly fit her and be the one that told everyone else who she was.

One that she would roar whenever somebody used that infernal name her parents had given her.

He wished he would be able to hear her roar it to the winds, much like the quiet thunder she brought with her.

She had yet to cross the desert, in her view.

But to him, she had already done it. He was no longer as alone as he thought he was, in this place called Imperium.

For Silent Storm would give him company.

[delusionaltoma]

13, 14, 15 for the Fallout asks!! ((It's Bee Hiiiii!!!))

HI BEE!! <333

13. What is the most frightening experience they had endured?

The most frightening experience Bombita ever went through would have to be being trapped in the Sierra Madre. As a bit of a pyromaniac whose whole gimmick and source of weapons is mainly bombs. She felt a strange sense of fear, she's never feared bombs or explosions but I suppose that's what happens when you're not the one blowing up people, but instead the one who could be blown up at any second. The environment as well was just something she has never experienced in her life, and the constant threat of the Ghost people, The radio beeping, and the anxiety about keeping others safe or else they all die, it's was honestly a bit traumatizing for her.

Something small but besides her items being removed, she felt completely vulnerable without her face paint on. after she got shot down in GoodSprings, she hasn't been comfortable with seeing herself without her clown makeup on. It's been a slow process trying to remember what she looked like along with feeling comfortable with it but she always felt "naked" in a sense without it.

14. What is their fondest memory?

It's honestly hard to say since she enjoys a lot of her memories!!

Before becoming a Rodeo Clown at the clown motel (or what was left of it after the bombs) she used to work for a weapon supply business, something like the Gun Runners but shorter lived due to the NCR cracking them down. She would often be cooped up in her station fixing up any old weapons found during savaging around the Mojave. She would have some pre-war film playing on a rinky dinky television set her and others were able to fix and just be in her own little world honestly. She has always enjoyed before and after being shot the joys of pre-war films, taking inspiration from them into her new life as a rodeo clown

15. What is their proudest moment/ accomplishment?

Her proudest moment would have to be one of their first large rodeo they ever threw at the clown motel. It was one first times she really had no choice but to be seen by more than just a few drunk people. But through a couple of moments of smaller rodeos and smaller shows. It was the same day she truly grew into her new role, entertaining, protecting the rider, and fooling around with the bull. She soon learned how to enjoy the art of the rodeo and live into her new role as Bombita!!

[raysources]

𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒     —     a collection of one - liners taken from the soundtrack of the 2015 broadway musical, school of rock.   slightly edited for clarity.   change pronouns as necessary.  

just wait and see!

let 'em laugh.

i know my time is comin'.

no one'll call me a loser again!

try to walk as if you're going somewhere.

the pressure's on for you and me.

don't, and it will mean i go ballistic.

good luck, have fun!

just like the good old days!

you've always been a dreamer.

give up your dreams.

your dreams are lame and weak.

we ought to cut the bull and just get real.

give up your dreams, and get a freakin' job.

join the grown - up world like us.

quickly, don't let anybody see you!

how come you never told me you could play music?

you ever play electric guitar?

let's waste that time together, shall we?

you're in the band!

don't forget to emote!

i only play classical.

that's good. for my grandma. who's, uh, dead.

i still don't have a job.

is that something you could swing?

i'm putting you in charge of the whole damn thing!

i pledge allegiance to the band.

if you're in raise your hand!

you never let me get in a word.

no matter what it is that i do, it's like i just can't seem to get through.

i've got so much to say.

still, you never listen.

can't you see i'm hurting?

i promise, one day i'll make you hear.

i'm not the kid you want me to be.

you just don't wanna see the real me.

you just keep shutting me out.

i'm not gonna beg you — you'll never see a tear.

the legend of the rent was way past due.

how can you kick me out of what is mine?

you're not hardcore unless you live hardcore.

what it all can mean is quite confounding.

the children all like him more than us.

who knows what he does but god, it works!

maybe we too could do some good.

there's been one solution since the world began : don't just sit and take it, stick it to the man!

get all of your aggression out.

stick it to the man!

go off the script, do what you like.

they hate it, they can take a hike.

why live your life to someone else's plan?

crank the amps to 17!

don't just sit and take it, stick it to the man!

show 'em what rebellion means!

why march to someone else's caravan?

there's no way you can stop the school of rock!

i'm in charge!

go punk, or start packing.

it's time to play!

come on, this isn't hard!

make sure he remembers, or i'm breaking both your necks.

we don't have time to waste while you try to find some taste!

i can still remember how the music used to be.

where do last year's one - hit - wonders go to?

what happened to the girl i was?

guess the songs kept playing, but i didn't stop to hear.

where's the joy i used to know, way back when?

sorry for the outburst.

let's keep this our secret, who'd believe it anyway?

thanks for the reminder that there's music in me yet.

if you flip the record and start over, does it sound the way it did before?

he can barely read!

i promise you, i can read!

we're gonna sue!

his ass belongs in jail!

i'm a loser, okay?

i used you.

worst of all, i wasted your time.

i thought nobody could, but you, you understood.

you raised my voice up, taught me not to fear.

i've learned who i am because you're here.

school won't be the same without you here.

now that i've found you, you can't just disappear.

you've taught me so much since you've been here.

two and two make five!

rock got no reason, rock got no rhyme.

i've been biting my tongue too many times.

today's assignment : kick some ass!

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

everything that rises | charles leclerc

🏎️ synopsis: cecilia and charles were once inseparable friends, sharing the same dream of working in formula 1, but a disagreement drove a wedge between them. years went by, and the two lost touch. now charles is a ferrari driver and cece is a stats analyst at red bull racing. warnings: childhood friends to enemies to lovers; angst; minors dni. (W.C. 4k)

| the playlist |

"Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge."

Part 1 — Where did all the years go?

I was a child once. 

Those were the days of our picnics, when we scattered old blankets across the grass in my backyard and surrendered ourselves to the endless expanse of the sky. Hours would slip away, and time would become an afterthought as we lay there.

My mother would prepare us a feast. She would cook plates of succulent chicken, pasta dripping with rich, homemade tomato sauce, and potatoes crisped to perfection. But the real stars of our picnic were the sandwiches, meticulously crafted with layers of tender deli meats, crisp lettuce, and the tangy bite of mustard. To wash it all down, there was the cool, golden elixir of orange juice, poured into Disney character themed glasses that seemed bottomless in their generosity.

In that sun-drenched haven, every bite carried the weight of innocence and the taste of simpler times. Each bite transported us back to a place where the world was benevolent and the future an uncharted landscape filled with endless possibilities. Each and every bite had the taste of childhood and every gaze skyward a glimpse of eternity.

Yet, amidst the symphony of flavors and the warmth of the sun, what I remember most vividly is the sound of his laughter. It echoed through the air, a melodious tribute to our unbridled joy. It was a laughter that mingled with the rustling leaves, harmonized with the distant chirping of birds, and danced in the interplay of sunlight and shadows.

The memory of his laughter takes me to our old secret world, hidden away from the watchful eyes of adulthood. We would slip into our racing suits with the same eager anticipation we had reserved for our favorite childhood games. The rubbery scent of the helmets and the squeak of gloves being pulled on marked the transformation from ordinary mortals to speed-seeking daredevils.

The karts, vibrant and sleek, stood in readiness. Each curve was a ballet of precision and speed, a dance we had rehearsed countless times before. The thrill of victory, the fear of defeat, and the unspoken camaraderie bound us together, making us push the limits of our machines and our own abilities.

Growing up, Charles was always the color red, vibrant and full of life, while I was the color blue, calm and introspective.

Charles embodied the fiery spirit of red — bold and adventurous. He could light up a room with his presence, his laughter ringing out like a joyful melody. Red was the color of his enthusiasm and his unwavering determination to chase his dreams.

I, on the other hand, gravitated toward the soothing embrace of blue. I was the quiet observer, the one who found solace in introspection and the gentle cadence of the world around me. Blue was the color of my contemplation, my affinity for art, and my penchant for delving into the depths of my thoughts.

At home, seated in front of the television watching F1, he pointed at our idols and said:

"Someday, that will be us!"

We became teenagers after that. 

We wouldn’t laugh as hard because, you know, it wasn’t cool. Mom would still make those same sandwiches and they tasted exactly the same. 

Those were the years we started growing apart. But if you asked me then, I would have bet my life that we would remain close friends forever.

“Remember when…” 

That's how all our conversations began. Remember the pillow forts? The ridiculous arguments that ended in tears and laughter? Remember the candy that only appeared on Christmas? My God, do you remember Christmas?

We stopped making new memories. 

Shortly after that, we had a fight.

I remember the words, fragmented and disjointed. It began with a misstep, a clumsy remark, and the spark ignited. The exchange of words grew sharper, laced with the bitterness of misunderstanding.

I have long forgotten if it was something I said, a careless word or something I’ve done – maybe a thoughtless action. I don’t know what he saw that made him feel so much disgust for me.

Because he was supposed to stay in my life forever. Charles had been woven into the very fabric of my existence, an inseparable part of me. So I said to him, "I'm sorry."

And I continued to extend apologies. Each “I'm sorry” was a desperate attempt to mend what was broken, to bridge the chasm that had suddenly yawned between us. 

But Charles, his anger still smoldering, met my apology with silence. 

And then, the silence fell like an impenetrable veil. Charles stopped talking to me.

He no longer responded to my texts.

Time flowed on, relentless and unyielding, and before I knew it, our teenage years had slipped through my fingers like grains of sand.

College became my new reality, and I embarked on a journey that led me to graduate with a degree in data analytics. It was a world of numbers, algorithms, and logic, a far cry from the carefree days of picnics and karting.

The memories of those sandwiches, once a cherished taste of innocence, had blurred into oblivion. I couldn’t remember what they tasted like. The words we used to share, the stories and secrets that once bound us, had dissolved like whispers in the wind.

In the ever-advancing march of time, I became an adult, charting my own path in a world where the laughter of my dear friend had become a distant echo.

There’s a long list of songs that I’ll never listen to again, they remain etched in my memory, melodies that Charles introduced me to — the notes that accompanied our whispered confidences.

When he departed from my life, when I reluctantly let him slip away, he carried with him more than just his presence. He took with him a trove of treasured memories, moments of joy and connection that were now irrevocably severed. 

It was as though I had surrendered a piece of my own soul, willingly letting go of the incredible gifts he had bestowed upon me.

The movies we used to watch together. Our secret codes. Our special places — all of these now lay dormant, waiting to be rekindled by the spark of his return.

I think about him every time I go to the beach. 

Of all the people who had drifted out of my life, Charles was the most difficult to move on from. His absence cast a long shadow over my days, and the ache of missing him lingered like an unhealed wound.

Part 2 — We’ll never be those kids again.

The ache of losing Charles never truly subsided. In a cruel twist of fate, he remained a constant presence in my life, his voice echoing in the corners of my mind, a haunting reminder of what we once had. It was as though he had never truly left, and his absence had become an ever-present, silent specter.

The years passed and Charles and I reached the peak of our respective careers. Our paths continually converged, not by chance, but by the magnetic pull of shared ambition and relentless determination. 

Everything that rises must converge.

As fate would have it, Charles realized his lifelong dream, ascending to the position of Ferrari's number one pilot, while I, working at Red Bull, helped orchestrate the collective genius that propelled our team to the summit of the sport.

Our paths, once so intertwined, had now diverged into two different realms of Formula 1 excellence. 

Every day, I had to navigate the treacherous terrain of our shared world. Going to work became a minefield of emotions, a tightrope walk of avoidance. I watched my every step to shield myself from the painful sight of his face. The mere prospect of crossing paths with him was a torment I couldn't bear.

He was everywhere, woven into the fabric of my daily existence, an inescapable ghost haunting my every moment. Each reminder of his presence, every trace of his existence, felt like a dagger in my heart, a constant, gnawing pain that refused to relent.

I yearned for closure, for the opportunity to attempt the difficult task of moving on. But with him perpetually in my midst, I remained trapped in a state of perpetual longing and unresolved emotions. His lingering presence, both a blessing and a curse, had become a prison from which I couldn't break free.

The ghost of our friendship continued to haunt me, and the weight of his ever-presence threatened to suffocate me. It was a torment that knew no bounds, a relentless battle between the past and the present, and I found myself caught in its merciless grip, yearning for the solace of closure that remained agonizingly out of reach.

And then, the Monaco Grand Prix after-party incident unfolded.

Amid the glittering extravagance of the Monaco night and the boisterous revelry of a crowded party, where luxury cars lined the streets like jewels and the Mediterranean moonlight cast an enchanting glow, the dimly lit room swayed to the rhythm of mirth and the clinking of glasses and the scene was set.

As the hours slipped by, the influence of alcohol cast a hazy, intoxicating spell.

In this whirlwind of emotions and blurred boundaries, I found myself inexorably drawn to Charles, as I had countless times before. Perhaps it was the liquid courage coursing through my veins, or perhaps it was the persistent undercurrent of our unspoken connection that had grown increasingly difficult to ignore.

With a half-empty glass in hand, he approached me, a crooked smile playing on his lips. My eyes, sparkling with the same intoxication that infused the room, met his in a moment of shared recognition.

"You know," he began, his words slightly slurred, "you're really, really pretty."

Our laughter, like music in the night, rang out as I tilted my head in amusement. "Well, thank you," I replied, the warmth of a blush coloring my cheeks. We haven't spoken privately in years.

His gaze remained fixed on me, his words sincere amidst the alcohol-induced haze. "I wish... I wish I could meet you for the first time tonight," he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of longing.

The admission hung suspended in the atmosphere. In that fleeting moment, the past and the present converged, and the burden of unspoken grief simmered beneath the surface, a pain that could never be relieved.

We stood like two lost souls in the heart of a tempest, caught in a moment of naked vulnerability and raw despair. It was a confession that held the promise of unattainable redemption, a fervent wish that whispered of a future forever denied by the inescapable weight of our sorrow.

And in that fragile, alcohol-soaked moment, the boundaries between yesterday and today blurred, leaving us both to ponder what might have been if we were, indeed, allowed to commence anew — an agonizing reminder of the happiness we once shared, now seamlessly forever lost.

Our lips met in a moment of vulnerability, an impulsive act. The taste was bittersweet, a fusion of longing and confusion. But as our mouths sought solace, an overwhelming realization washed over us.

Regret, like a bitter aftertaste, flooded our senses. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

In that fleeting embrace, we had crossed a line that should have remained unbroken. Our eyes met, mirroring the profound disappointment that now hung heavily between us. It was a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment that threatened to shatter the fragile equilibrium we had struggled to maintain.

As we pulled away, the weight of our actions settled upon us like a heavy cloak, suffocating the intimacy we had once cherished. We stood in silence, our regrets echoing in the stillness of the room, a painful reminder of the irrevocable damage we had inflicted upon our precious bond.

It was a kiss that should never have happened, an ill-fated attempt to recapture something we had lost. And now, the bitter taste of regret lingered on our lips, a constant reminder of the irreversible mistake we had made.

Part 3 — You texted me at midnight.

In the aftermath of the ill-fated kiss, regret was a constant companion, a shadow that cast a pall over our interactions, a reminder of the irreversible mistake we had made. I retreated into the solitude of my own thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if our connection was destined to remain in this purgatory of regret and unresolved emotions. The echoes of our teenage years had returned to haunt us, a reminder that some wounds, once reopened, could never fully heal.

We couldn't bear to acknowledge the vulnerability we had exposed in each other, and so, instead, we channeled our frustration into a bitter exchange of words and glances.

On the paddock, where our professional lives intersected, we found ourselves caught in a never-ending cycle of snarky comments and pointed remarks. Every interaction was laced with resentment, as if our anger had become a protective armor against the discomfort of our shared mistake.

We exchanged angry looks, each one a silent accusation, a reminder of the blame we had heaped upon each other. It was a dance of frustration and hurt, a toxic cycle that neither of us could break free from.

The tension between us was palpable. Our anger and blame had become a wall, a barrier that kept us at arm's length from each other, a defense mechanism against the pain of our own regret.

Pierre, our only remaining mutual friend, had mustered the courage to ask: 

"So," he began tentatively, "what happened between you two?"

We sat in his living room. The walls displayed abstract art and a minimalist charcoal-gray sofa took center stage. A low, polished coffee table featured art books and a sculptural vase with white lilies, floor-to-ceiling windows framed a city panorama, with navy silk curtains adding drama.

I sighed, my eyes drifting to the floor as I searched for words that would capture the complexity of our situation. "Why don't you ask him?" I countered, my voice tinged with bitterness.

Pierre gave me a knowing look. "I did," he admitted, his frustration evident. "And he said the same thing."

Pierre hoped he could jolt me out of my impasse, force me to confront the truth that had remained buried beneath layers of anger and resentment.

"I thought you had gotten over it," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. "That little feud. We're adults now, how come you two are still fighting?"

I sighed, the bitterness of our ongoing conflict gnawing at me. "It's not that simple," I replied.

"But it's been years," he insisted.

I sighed, hesitating for a moment. "We kissed. In a moment of weakness. It was impulsive and... Wrong."

Pierre's shock was palpable, his features frozen in a mixture of surprise and concern. "You mean... You and..."

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Yes.”

He didn't press the matter further, however, Pierre couldn't help but give knowing looks whenever, for some reason, our paths crossed. Those glances were a reminder that he carried a secret with him

A text from Charles arrived unexpectedly, its arrival marked by the soft glow of my phone's screen in the darkened room. The clock showed me it was past midnight. The message, simple yet laden with unspoken questions, sent a jolt of surprise through me.

"I got your number with Pierre," it read, "Do you still think about me?" 

Charles's question hung in the stillness of the midnight hour. Charles, the vibrant red to my calming blue, had reappeared in my life with an impossible question.

With a sense of trepidation and nostalgia, I began to compose my reply, knowing that the past and the present were converging once more, like the colors red and blue blending on an artist's canvas, creating a new and uncertain shade of emotion.

The words flowed from my fingertips in response to Charles's late-night text, a confession that I had held in my heart for years. "I never stopped thinking about you," I typed, my words echoing the truth that had lingered in the corners of my mind.

The message hung in the digital space between us. In those few words, I had bared my soul, revealing the depth of my emotions and the unspoken longing that had persisted despite the passage of time.

As I hit send, I couldn't help but wonder how Charles would respond to my confession.

Charles's response came swiftly, his words laden with a mix of longing and unresolved emotions. "I never stopped thinking about you either," he admitted, his vulnerability shining through the text message. "I want to kiss you again. Is it weird that I'm still angry at you?"

The weight of his words settled over me like a heavy blanket. It was a confession that mirrored my own feelings.

As I considered my reply, I knew that our reconnection had opened a Pandora's box of emotions. The desire to kiss him again was tempered by the knowledge that the past could not be erased, and the anger we both felt was a testament to the wounds that had yet to fully heal.

"I'm still angry too," I replied, my fingers hesitating over the keys. "I hate you for every single one of our birthdays that we spent apart."

"I'm a bit drunk right now," Charles admitted, his honesty and vulnerability shining through, "I don't think I can handle this well. But please, let's talk tomorrow."

The admission of his inebriation added another layer of complexity to our conversation, a reminder that the emotions we were navigating were raw and unfiltered. Charles's request for a conversation the following day held the promise of a sober and more coherent exchange, a chance to delve into the depths of our feelings without the influence of alcohol.

So I agreed.

Part 4 — That’s it, it’s finally over.

The next day, Charles and I found ourselves at an al fresco restaurant in the heart of London. The table was meticulously set, bathed in the gentle, dappled sunlight that filtered through the lush canopy of trees overhead. Our tentative smiles were like fragile echoes of a bygone connection, softened by the clinking of cutlery and the distant murmur of conversations that framed our reunion.

I absently played with my napkin, my gaze drifting to the greenery surroundings that seemed to envelop us. Charles, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass, appeared equally preoccupied by the world beyond our secluded table.

Finally, Charles broke the ice, though his words carried an air of uncertainty. "It's a good weekend for Red Bull, right?" he ventured.

I played along, offering a light-hearted jest. "Maybe I can convince you to join us. The champions' side."

Charles's response came swift and unequivocal, like the snap of a whip. "I would rather lose at Ferrari than win anywhere else."

His words landed like a sharp blow to my chest. I found myself simply staring at him, the weight of his words settling upon me, forcing me to confront the truth I had long avoided.

And then, as if compelled by an unseen force, the words began to spill forth from my lips. "I could never be happy losing."

In that moment, our conversation had shifted, the undercurrent of our emotions resurfacing like a long-buried truth, leaving us both to grapple with the implications of our newfound understanding.

Charles's gaze remained averted, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance as if unwilling to meet mine. “We should talk about what happened.”

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, we should," I replied, my voice carrying a hint of hesitation.

The air around us grew heavy, tears welled in my eyes, their slow descent tracing a path down my cheeks.

"I hate that I have to see you all the time," I confessed, my voice trembling, "and I hate even more the fact that I'm not allowed to talk to you."

Charles finally turned to face me, his gaze locking onto mine with a vulnerability that mirrored my own. His hand reached across the table, tentatively finding mine, and a flush of warmth spread across my cheeks at his touch.

"You can talk to me," he reassured me, his voice a whisper in the intimate space between us. "I don't even remember why we stopped. I don't remember why we fought."

The tender caress of our entwined hands was a poignant reminder of the closeness we had once shared, the meal on the table long forgotten.

"I remember we yelled," I admitted, "and I never yelled like that at anyone before. I felt so awful for what I did to you. So I apologized, but you never responded."

Charles's eyes brimmed with remorse, his grip on my hand tightening. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of his own regret, "I'm so sorry. About the kiss too."

"You don't have to apologize for the kiss," I whispered, my voice barely above a hushed breath. My gaze was averted, fear of rejection gnawing at me, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

"No?" Charles questioned, his hand tenderly tilting my face to meet his gaze.

"No," I confessed, my voice now filled with newfound confidence.

A playful smirk graced Charles's lips as he asked, "So is it okay if it happens again?" His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I saw the face of my friend — happy, just as I remember.

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, a cascade of emotions swirling within me. I nodded, my heart pounding with agreement.

We both acknowledged the need for more privacy. Our stay in England was tied to work, so we made the decision to retreat to the muted solitude of my hotel room.

It was an adult decision, the hotel room was a cold and impersonal space, devoid of the warmth and familiarity of our cherished pillow forts. Its sterile decor and neutral palette seemed worlds away from the vibrant tapestry of our childhood adventures.

The environment in which we found ourselves was a stark contrast to the carefree days of our shared past, a visual and emotional testament to the changes that had occurred in our lives.

As Charles's hands traced delicate patterns on my body, it felt nothing like the innocent games of our youth, the boundaries between friendship and something more blurring with each passing moment. Our intentions were clear, and the space around us seemed to hold its breath, aware of the transformation that was unfolding between us.

"I've wanted this for so long," Charles confessed, his voice heavy with desire, after fervent kisses.

I tried to inject a hint of humor into the charged atmosphere, my nervousness evident. "You do know they say sex is the fastest way to ruin a friendship, right?" I quipped.

Charles responded with a lighthearted tone, but the truth in his words was unmistakable. "It's okay, we're not really friends anymore," he replied, his words carrying a weight that hung in the air.

In that moment, it dawned on me with a profound clarity. We truly weren't friends anymore, not in the way we had once been. We were two individuals who wanted each other, drawn together by desire and an unspoken longing.

As our lips met in more fervent kisses, years of unspoken longing and regrets melted away, replaced by the urgency of the present moment. The past had faded into insignificance, and the future remained uncertain, but in that moment, none of it mattered.

In the intimate confines of that hotel room, Charles and I succumbed to the pull of our desires, shedding the weight of unresolved history and embracing the present moment. The chemistry between us intensified, our bodies finding a rhythm that was as natural as it was passionate.

"I'm sorry," I thought I heard him say it in the midst of our shared passion. But in the quiet of that hotel room, we were both offering apologies with our bodies, each touch and caress a silent acknowledgment of the complex emotions that had brought us to this point.

Words had become superfluous, unnecessary in the language we were now speaking — a language of desire and understanding.

In the heat of the moment, we were both apologizing with our bodies, seeking solace and connection in the physical realm. It was an apology for the years of distance and misunderstanding, a silent reconciliation that transcended the spoken word.

As our bodies entwined, the burden of our past regrets melted away, evaporating into the hushed confines of the room. In its place, we found ourselves bathed in a profound sense of catharsis and renewal.

This was a moment of profound vulnerability, an unguarded authenticity that had eluded us for far too long. In the quiet aftermath of our intimacy, we lay together, wrapped in the warmth of our newfound understanding. The room bore witness to a testament to the power of connection to heal wounds and renew the bonds that had once defined us.

[bcrtiesjr]

i look inside myself and see my heart is black i see my red door i must have it painted black maybe then, I'll fade away and not have to face the facts it's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

— 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊. THE ROLLING STONES.

002. 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. THE WHO.

no one knows what it's like to feel these feelings like i do and i blame you (you, you, you) no one bites back as hard on their anger none of my pain and woe can show through

003. 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍. CAT STEVENS.

oh, how can i try to explain? 'cause when i do he turns away again ot's always been the same, same old story from the moment i could talk i was ordered to listen now there's a way and I know that i have to go away i know I have to go

004. 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋. THE ROLLING STONES

please allow me to introduce myself i'm a man of wealth and taste i've been around for a long, long year stole many a man's soul and faith i was 'round when jesus christ had his moment of doubt and pain made damn sure that pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate

005. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑. IGGY POP.

i am the passenger i stay under glass i look through my window so bright i see the stars come out tonight i see the bright and hollow sky over the city's ripped back sky and everything looks good tonight

006. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑. BOB DYLAN.

you that never done nothin' but build to destroy you play with my world like it's your little toy you put a gun in my hand and you hide from my eyes and you turn and run farther when the fast bullets fly

007. 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃. STEPPENWOLF.

Like a true nature's child We were born, born to be wild We can climb so high I never wanna die Born to be wild Born to be wild Get your motor runnin' Head out on the highway We're lookin' for adventure And whatever comes our way

008. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐃. BLACK SABBATH.

i need someone to show me the things in life that i can't find i can't see the things that make true happiness, i must be blind make a joke and i will sigh and you will laugh and i will cry happiness i cannot feel and love to me is so unreal

009. 𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑. THE ROLLING STONES.

ooh, see the fire is sweepin' our very street today burns like a red coal carpet mad bull lost your way war, children, it's just a shot away it's just a shot away war, children, it's just a shot away it's just a shot away

010. 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘. THE STOOGES.

look out, honey, 'cause i'm using technology ain't got time to make no apology soul radiation in the dead of night love in the middle of a firefight honey, gotta strike me blind somebody gotta save my soul baby, penetrate my mind

011. 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. THE CLASH.

the ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin engines stop running, but I have no fear cause london is drowning, and I live by the river

012. 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒. DAVID BOWIE.

this ain't rock and roll this is genocide as they pulled you out of the oxygen tent you asked for the latest party with a silicon hump and your ten-inch stump dressed like a priest you was, todd browning streak he was

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Thought of something cute/ ironic for mortal Kakashi and his hubby, as kids.

When Gai was 6, he learned more stories about the god of storms and after not hearing his grandma yelling for him one day, got the same idea he had in his first lifetime: that the god of storms Kakashi, maybe had moved too far away! And he couldn't hear them, so he would have to go out and find him! He couldn't be that far.

So that night, he packed up some snacks, but before going off on his quest, he decided to stop by his best friend forever's house; Kakashi! And tossed a few stones at his window until he woke up- and promply got tackled by Bull and Pakkun for A.) Waking his friend up, and B.) Trespassing on his farm.

But Kakashi got up (grumpily) and heard his friend's idea and was like... "you're gonna die if you go alone. Hold on. Let me get my backpack and my bunny" *stuffed toy*

And together the planned to go out and go on a quest to find the god of storms! Kakashi grabbing a map. A change of clothes. An entire jar of dog cookies. And an extra coat and water bottle for Gai. They knew that together, nothing was impossible, their plan was full proof.

... they didn't get past the eggplant field before Gai's grandparents caught up to them and pulled them back to Kakashi's house by their ears. And grounded them for the rest of the summer (or in Gai's case, FOR TIL COLLEGE!!!). Gai's parents were incredibly over protective and afraid their grandson would try somethig like this, which is why they always checked on his room no less than 5 times a night! So he didn't get far.

...also he left a note saying he was going to see Kakashi and go find the god of storms, and thatvhe'd "be back by dinner" so they knew where to look (XD;)

Still, eventually they're allowed to play together, and both make up maps and plans for their quest to find the god of storms, before one day forgetting it as a childhood memory.

25 years later, Kakashi is helping clean out his grandparents home after his granny passed away, and finds an old chest with many of their old toys and favourite fames, and their old plans to go on a quest to find the god of storms. He looks at his hubby, who's not exactly in the right state, than outside the window at the dry world they live in and decides...in a few weeks...maybe he'll bring up a grand journey with his husband. Science, prayers and magic has not worked this far and he has long suspected his hubby was THAT Gai, and so...maybe together...they can find the wayward god... maybe they can bring back the rain together...

I love suspecting that Gai is THAT Gai, because Kakashi thinks so highly of him why tf wouldn’t a god fall in love with him? He’s perfect and Kakashi totally understands

But then not connecting the dots and the obvious clues to his own connection to the god of storms, because that would mean admitting he’s something more special than ‘just a farmer boy’ and deep down Kakashi doesn’t want to admit that for so so SO many reason’s.

Kakashi tucking that map away somewhere close by so he can show it to his husband, but also wondering just how the god of storms will react to finding out Gai is married

Will he be upset? Is Kakashi the reason that he’s not there, because he doesn’t want to give rain to a world where his mortal lover fell for someone else? (So close babe, just a little less self hate!)

I can imagine Kakashi talking to Gai’s grandpa about it, expressing fears that he really did fall in love with THAT Gai, and that one day Gai will find the god of storms again and leave him

And the grandpa just sitting there like ‘boy you are so smart but so dumb, how do you exist? I’m going to smack you, but then i think you’ll finally realize and i just know that won’t end well’

[pcril]

* ◟ : 〔 LEWIS TAN, CIS MAN + HE / HIM 〕 ZHONG JIEGOU , some say you’re a THIRTY SEVEN YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both INTUITIVE and BULL - HEADED, one can’t help but think of VENGEANCE by COLDRAIN when you walk by. are you still the HITMAN for THE HANGING MAN, even with your reputation as THE OUROBOROS? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and REMORSE SEVERED BY ONE'S OWN HAND, FEELING THE WARMTH OF AN INFERNO BUT NOT THE PAIN, SINS OF GENERATIONS PAST STILL SEEK PENANCE, although we can’t help but think of SENSHI ( DUNGEON MESHI ) + CHARLES SUN ( THE BROTHERS SUN ) + CASSIAN ( JOHN WICK ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

ENTER THE OUROBOROS.

You’ve overstayed your initial timeframe on these grounds. Every nook and cranny’s been memorized. Yet you still walk the streets as a stranger. The concept of settling in is always within reach, but you’ve long forgotten what having a home means. Though some broken part of you will always long for it. So you tell yourself you don’t mind the constant rain as compromise. When in reality you’ve always fucking hated it. The memories it digs up stings worse than broken glass underfoot. But you carry on. Keep your head held high, shoulders back, spine straight just like you’ve been taught.

PUBLICLY KNOWN FACTS:

Name: Zhong JieGou

Appearance: TBA but does have a face scar from corner of mouth to cheek & one in the middle of his left hand.

( tw — child endangerment, murder )

Does anyone really know who their parents are?

It's a question that Jie never thought twice about growing up. He'd always been told he was the apple to their eye. Their miracle child, the embodiment of their love. And he was. Throughout his childhood, his father was a modest man that built his morals and teachings based on the hard truths of the world; mainly faults and redemption. Whereas his mother was perfect in just about every way as a successful realtor, loving wife and mother. Everything was fine — normal until he turned eleven.

The sudden, horrendous murder of his aunt sent his mother over the edge. She became unstable at a rapid rate; long nights out, hardly social, a husk of her former self. Even worse when the murder didn't remain at large — law enforcement hardly kept vivid interest until the case went cold. Jie and his father tried everything they could to console her to the best of their abilities, but she was cast further than they could reach.

Everything started to crack when his mother stumbled home covered in blood. No one was given a moment's notice before she robbed Jie of his father's life; knife driven deep into the throat twice and left to bleed out on the floor. He wasn't given the option to run for help, or reason with his own mother for the horrors that unfolded around him. All he was given was the same greeting that his father received and was swiped at with a blade. Straight through the left hand, raised in self-defense and fear. Unlike his father, he fared better with his instincts and managed to evade a fatal blow. Still, the knife carved into the right side of his face; just next to the corner of his mouth and up to the meat of his cheek.

They struggled for several minutes on end. Jie pleaded in pain while his mother remained unreachable — convinced that it was better if her own family died at her hands instead of the cruel world they lived in. Then there was a slight break of clarity of what she was doing. She remained over Jie, her own son, knife poised to drive a blade into a vital point. It was in that moment of opportunity that Jie fought back. He bit the very hand that had fed him all his life and fought to survive.

The altercation ended with both parents deceased and himself very much alive. He had his mother's knife grasped in shaky hands. They didn't stop shaking until he realized that — no, he really didn't know his parents. Not his father, and definitely not his mother.

Hell, maybe even himself.

Life after that incident was different. Jie almost followed his mother's descent into numb madness. Yet the support of his grandparents and new friend fished him back out; unknowingly helped him keep a level head as he figured out what the hell he truly was. Though terribly difficult, he worked towards some semblance of a normal life. Yet misfortune laughed in his face once more when he reached seventeen.

The sudden disappearance of his best friend uprooted him completely. The circumstances had been too clean, too random — too everything wrong. Yet the local police couldn't see that. They couldn't see past the fact that his friend was a full-grown adult with a rough past. They didn't do much of anything besides the bare minimum; just like they had with his aunt's murder.

It hadn't felt like a coincidence to him from the very beginning. Two horrible occurrences within his very young life didn't just happen under the pretense of random misfortune. He didn't accept it — couldn't accept it, and his disbelief ended up being right.

The body of his best friend turned up years later — dismembered and almost beyond recognition. All faith he had in law enforcement was buried along with the discovery. No one was there to help level his drowned thoughts. No one was there to tell him to try and move on — continue to live life to the fullest. No one was there to stop him from taking matters into his own hands as he finetuned his skillset. Eventually marketing himself as a hit for hire.

WHAT'S BURIED UNDERNEATH .

HISTORY BEING WRITTEN .

TBA.

[honeyedsins]

(JEREMY ALLEN WHITE, CISMALE, HE/HIM) Oh, is that ASHER BROOKS? I heard the THIRTY THREE year old is PASSIONATE.  But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also VOLATILE. Makes sense seeing how they are a PROSPECT in the GHOST RIDERS. 

stats.

full name:  asher alexander brooks. nicknames: ash. birthday: august 9th age: thirty-three. birthplace: brooklyn, ny. star sign: leo. gender: cis male pronouns: he/him sexuality: heterosexual. gang: ghost riders prospect. rank: prospect. cover: record store owner @ echo chamber. theme song: merry christmas, please don't call by the bleachers

appearance. 

face claim: jeremy allen white hair color: dirty blonde eye color: blue height:  5ft 11ins weight: 185lbs build: muscular tattoos: very very very much so. scars: many past scars from his father.

family.

mother: olivia salvatore (restaurant owner). father: johnathan (johnny) brooks. siblings: jason macavoy, half brothers (same father) and deceased younger brother, vincent (25) and baby sister, madelyn (5). pets: rescued a pitbull named hemingway.

personality. 

positives (+): protective, caring, determined, loyal, motivated. negatives (-): volatile, aggressive, impulsive, stubborn, closed off. fears: losing his mom, letting his mom down, his dad was a fear of his. zodiac: leo element: fire hogwarts house: gryffindor drugs/ alcohol/ smoking: never touched a drug, big smoker and drinker. aesthetics: a white tee shirt tucked into black jeans while the smiths play quietly in the background of a vintage record shop, bruised knuckles outside of a grungey bar with broken glass, a bustling italian restaurant that he helps his mom out in with soft italian music playing in the background. character inpso: will hunting from good will hunting just not the intelligence part lmfao, opie winston from sons of anarchy, robb stark from game of thrones,

tldr basically: (mentions of drug overdose, childhood trauma and abuse)

growing up in the italian side brooklyn, asher was the oldest with a lot of responsibility thrust upon him very young.

his father instilled a work ethic in him that was unlike any other - like a workhorse, he was up and at them early mornings in his mother and father's restaurant, primarily his mother's family's restaurant, washing dishes, scrubbing, getting new orders in, learning the business because he had to.

his father, johnny, was heavily involved with the gang life and from early on, asher was never shielded from much. he saw heavy violence when he went with his family to his serpent meetups, and his father always told him that one day, he would get involved in that life too.

he and his father always had a strained relationship - mainly because they were very different. asher wanted to listen to his records from a young age, cook with his mother in the restaurant and was more into motorcycles, art, music rather than the brutal side of gang life. that being said, asher had a temper like no other growing up - all learned from his father.

his father wanted him to be the perfect son and eventual gang member. he wanted him to be a strong bull, a man amongst men, but no matter what he did, asher disappointed him which led to beating after beating to toughen him up. asher only cried and got upset as a young kid - as he turned thirteen and got older, he never let his father get the best of him.

his respite, for him, was music and his siblings. the moment his baby brother, vincent, was born, things changed. when he became a big brother, he understood what real, honest love was, because he would do anything for vincent. they were best friends, throughout their entire lives - and vincent was his father's favorite. an attractive, beautiful boy, smart as a whip, charming - there was nothing that vincent couldn't do. things got even better when madelyn aka maddie was born, their little baby sister and asher felt like he had to be the best big brother in the world.

the pressure of the life got to vincent though - and asher saw that. it wasn't until vincent was around sixteen that he got heavy into the drug scene and it killed asher to see. this was his baby brother and it broke his heart to see the cover ups, the glazed look in his eyes. asher had no tolerance for drugs and would always be vincent's first call, and of course asher would come running - but still furious as hell after vincent sobered up and promised he would stay sober.

it was a battle for years - until the dreaded day came. asher was still unhappily being his father's sidekick - when he got the call late at night that his beloved little brother had overdosed at the side of a club at the age of 21. every muscle in his body, every single muscle, went completely numb. he couldn't believe it and couldn't stop running until he got to the club and pushed through to see.

vincent's death was a blower the brooks family really couldn't deal with well. olivia, his mother, poured herself into the restaurant and his father grew even more abusive and horrible toward asher, insisting that it was his fault that it had happened. the fights that would ensue got worse and worse - and one night, a horrible night about two years after vincent's death, johnny brooks was found dead in a fire that erupted in an abandoned warehouse in queens. no one knew how or why, but asher was always told it was gang activity.

now two years since his father death, four years since his brother's, asher is living the life that he finally wants to live. when vincent died, he got his money in order from working at the family restaurant and odd jobs to finally open his own record shop, a dream he had told vincent over and over again.

the record shop is called echo chamber in brooklyn and it is a vintage record shop for all types of genres. still though, asher is home all the time to return to the restaurant and take care of his mother and baby sister, maddie, who is five.

he's a family boy, and it wasn't until recently that going through his dad's things, he saw a text message saved under a woman's name he had never heard of before and there it is was. hey johnny - you have a son. here he is, jason. and there was a picture of a young boy and picture of the birth certificate. to think that asher had another younger brother out there thrilled and terrified him - and he was shocked to find out he lived right in new york too.

it was no surprise - his father was a playboy, a bad guy, but when asher told his mother, she wasn't surprised either. it was something that asher thought about for a while, to go and meet him, to find out about him. they were half brothers after all, but it felt disrespectful in some way, to replace him - now that vincent was gone.

still though, asher is all about family and he wants to know his brother - as well as join the gang that he is in, very much interested as a prospect for the ghost riders.

[lestappeninchidents]

Behind the clouds is hiding the sun

HI GUYS ! 💜

Here is the next and the last chapter of part 1. I know it took so long to come, but I was overwhelmed! Like I said I have a lot of ideas, but I don't think many people like this fic that's why I'm thinking of dropping it or perhaps just write for me...

Words : almost 10k by OlympeF1 Chapters : 2/2 Pairing : Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc & Esteban Ocon, Max Verstappen & Esteban Ocon Series : Part 1 of The sweet flail of Max and Charles as F1 parents

Summary : Max and Charles decide to adopt Esteban, a six-year-old boy, who has already seen so many horrors. However, they know that the evidence is there. They left F1 several years ago, they live happily. But Max, like Charles, think that they are missing something. Max tries to understand what it means to love a child, and Charles becomes a real comfort to both of them. OR: Upon discovering the first chapter the fluff is at its peak, before later revealing the dark files that lie behind a small child.

Snippet :

"Max, you're crushing my hand."

Yet Charles did nothing to unhook their linked fingers, simply accentuating the gentle circles he made with the pad of his thumb on his husband's hand. It was a movement that had always anchored him, as he too was petrified of what would happen next when they finally entered that children's home. But he never deviated from why they were here, which would allow him to move forward no matter what towards their destination. The future of better days for a little being already so flayed by life, was at stake and it became his mount in this ordeal, as when he had clung to his dream of world champion with Ferrari. After the rain, comes the good weather.

"Sorry schatje."

As if to ease the pain and thus make amends, the former Red Bull driver gently kissed their intertwined hands with his lips. This made the Monegasque smile tenderly, amused and at the same time admiring how much his love for this person never ran out of steam. Even planted in the middle of the sidewalk, a few meters from their destiny, facing a bed of daisies that had not been mowed for a while, Charles was still admiring the immeasurable love he had for this man. Thank God he had finally removed his blinders, blinded by a childish rivalry that had carried him for so many years, but which could have made him lose so much if he had continued in this blindness. Charles was no longer afraid to say, after years away from motorsport, that he would never have gotten where he is without Max. All his life, the former Monegasque driver, deep in his unconscious, had been looking for the recognition of this rival as a small jewel buried under the mines.

They were ready, even though his husband's blue stunts seemed only strewn with fear, Charles knew that the love they had felt when they read this child's file, was perceptible just behind. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could still look into Max's eyes, to read the certainty that he held the story of their future child in his fingers. Charles thought he had only seen this assurance when Max declared himself world champion before he had even entered F1. And even then, he's not sure it wasn't tinged with a hint of uncertainty. Charles knew that when they looked at this child, the obvious would explode in a million little fireworks. It was there.