#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

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Solas

[hyukakisses]

- emo pervy loser beomgyu as your bestfriend to boyfriend!

parings: beomgyu x fem reader

plot: loser beomgyu, bestfriends to lovers troupe, sweet crybaby reader but still a loser unfortunately, beomgyu and reader like eachother but beomgyu likes reader more than reader likes beomgyu (as it should be for any relationship between a man and a woman), insecure reader who has low self esteem if you squint (very old & re edited post i had up on my old account)

warnings: beomgyu corrupts reader a bit, use of pet names, smut !! (reader n beomgyu receiving and giving), faint ddlg themes, comforting n reassuring beomgyu who loves reader, dom gyu & sub reader

beomgyu was ecstatic; he had recently gotten himself a purple skateboard and just couldn’t wait to show you. he desperately needed one ever since he broke his bicycle in two pieces which you still didn’t know why or how that happened but you really didn’t wanna ask much less know

beomgyu was headed to your house, ready to show you his newly prized possession but he needed to do something first. grabbing a box cutter; the obvious manic emo boy craved your initials onto the back of his skateboard leaving a ‘y/n<3’ on the lower left side it wasn’t that noticeable to where you would notice it but he knew exactly where to find that mark if he went to look

with a satisfied cheeky grin beomgyu marched to your house riding his skateboard before putting on his black over the ear headphones of course. blasting bulls in the bronx by pierce the veil, his favorite artists in his ears. making sure not to fall on his back again, imagining how much you’d cry when he’d come over with cuts on his fingers and face again

“beomgyu!” you let out a faint squeal, your face gleaming in excitement seeing your bestfriend, your only friend climb through your window for the nth time.

“hey baby” beomgyu mutters grinning back at you showing off his dimple. this action made you flush, you were thankful you weren’t pale otherwise beomgyu would never let you blushing at his words down.

another thing that you were hiding was your oh so little crush on your bestfriend beomgyu, completely oblivious to him reciprocating the same feelings. you being a total ditz though, you didn’t really catch onto beomgyu’s liking towards to you. you always just thought he was really sweet.

plus you also had really low self esteem so it was hard to accept that anyone could possibly like you especially someone as special and attractive as beomgyu.

you still couldn’t believe that beomgyu was considered a loser, he seemed way too cool and attractive to be one but after being his bestfriend for years you’d slowly realized why he was one

you’ve noticed beomgyu never really spoke to anyone unless it was to angrily mansplain about the lore behind a hyperfixation he had, or when it came to defending you since you often struggled with anxiety.

beomgyu also always carried an angry look on his face only letting his gaze soften for you of course; beomgyu really lacked common social skills and had anger issues. often smashing things around him but also managing to calm down and comfort you once he noticed he was scaring you

but still you refused to believe beomgyu actually liked you.. i mean it just didn’t make any sense to you he probably just liked being your bestfriend, maybe he thought of you as a little sister to protect.

even after that one sleepover where he went down on you for the first time you still didn’t think he could possibly ever like you

“b-beomgyu?” you’d squeak in fear as you sensed your baby pink pajama short shorts being taken off of you as you tried to watch blue spring ride with the aforementioned male but automatically failed due to sleep taking over your body

“shhh it’s just me baby relax just let me taste my sweet girl you trust me right?” you hear beomgyu coo at you, this action calming you down and you nod your head. his bandaged covered fingertips from his skate boarding trick fails move from holding your face for your comfort to teasing the soft skin of your inner thighs but you couldn’t lie you enjoyed every minute of whatever was going on

your breath hitches, letting out high pitched whimpers clinging onto your teddy bear beomgyu gifted you for your birthday last year. as you helplessly watched the older male through glassy desperate lap at your pussy as if your were his last meal. the only thing that could be heard were your cries of over stimulation due to your climax and faint slurping sounds coming from beomgyu’s mouth

“b-beomgyu..” you’d only whine sensing the same burning sensation growing at the pit of your stomach while beomgyu continued to lap his tongue in and out of your gummy walls more aggressively when the emo boy felt you close up on his tongue

you felt beomgyu snicker against your clit as he looks up at you a faint smirk on his lips; “what is it babydoll? you wanna cum already? gonna cum on my tongue again?”

you two never really spoke much of about that night, seeing how every time beomgyu tried bringing it up you’d start to cry out of embarrassment not really liking beomgyu’s teasing since you were very sensitive and just a big crybaby if we’re being quite frank

however as time went on by since that sleepover let’s just say you and beomgyu were getting closer and a bit more comfortable with eachother

“like this?” you’d tilt your head staring up at your bestfriend through your pretty lashes gently latching your plump lips around the cock in your mouth, attempting to suck beomgyu off not really knowing how to since you never really exactly given head to anyone before

“yes- fuck c’mere” beomgyu lets out a husky grunt, wanting to take control not feeling patient enough to guide you through sucking him off he gently started to move your head back and forth on his length

“gonna be a good little girl and let me fuck your mouth right?” beomgyu hissed at your soft gurgles as you nod rapidly drinking in the sight of the boy towering over you occasionally letting out soft whimpers and praises

“beomgyu?” you’d call out to your bestfriend watching as beomgyu paints his nails jet black; “yes princess? what is it?” he’s not looking at you instead he’s blowing air on his nails but you knew he was paying attention to you

you felt tears forming in your eyes, your hands trembling as you felt your heart race against your chest. “d-do.. do you like me? and i don’t mean like just as bestfriends i mean like do you like me enough to be my boyfriend?” you were on the verge of a panic attack at the mere thought of beomgyu’s rejection

beomgyu can hear the panic in your voice, shooting his head up in worry already knowing what to do to calm you down. “c’mere” the oreo haired boy cradles you onto his lap laying your head on his chest as he rubbed circles on your lower back shushing your cries. whispering in your ears ‘shh it’s okay don’t cry im right here’

“i don’t like you i love you you hear me? i love everything about you, your crybaby tendencies and your pretty face. it would be a dream come true to be your boyfriend if you let me” beomgyu reassured you making you sniffle with a smile followed by a ‘i love you too beomgyu! and i really want you to be my boyfriend!’

[writingshushf1]

Does your mother know?

Summary: "Now you're so cute, I like your style And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile"

When a new Ferrari driver crosses paths with the one and only Sebastian Vettel.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, age gap, grief/mourning, slight mdom vibes, y/n being a brat, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 4.8k

Note: more filthy fiction w/ seb! they have a 8/10 year age gap, if that bothers you- don’t read! 

masterlist

There's that look in your eyes I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild Ah, but girl, you're only a child

You were the new Ferrari driver. That was amazing, you weren't the first AFAB racing, yet the only one to get in a position as high as that, in a top team. Charles Leclerc was your teammate and you knew him before, you were good friends, you often went out with him and his younger brother, who was closer to your age. The pre-season tests in Bahrain happened, but you didn't talk to the other drivers, more out of insecurity and fear of someone judging you, you preferred to stay in your corner, studying about the car and its possibilities.

Thursday and the day went very well, just press conference day. You saw some drivers, said hello and introduced yourself, but nothing too big, because the focus was different.

Friday was the day. Free practice to test how ready the car was for your style of racing. You arrived early and had lunch alone at the Ferrari hospitality, waiting for the weather to get milder so you could do the paddock walk. When you decided to go, you found Sebastian Vettel doing the same, alone; as soon as he saw you, he started to slow down to keep the same pace. Initially, you preferred to stay silent, you didn't want to bother him anyway - and as you consider yourself an annoying person in general, it would be better to keep your mouth shut anyway. He probably noticed your insecurity-and in a way, fear-of starting a conversation, so he decided to start it.

"Welcome to Formula 1." He smiled and you couldn't deny it, he had his charm. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I hope it was only the good stuff."

"Of course, the newest Scuderia Ferrari driver, who has had an impressive year in Formula 2 and clearly a great contender to take the lead away from the Red Bulls. As well as being the youngest female driver to win that position."

"I'm not that young."

"But you're younger than me, that's for sure." He chuckled low, patting her on the shoulder twice.

"Like you're that old."

"Death is already knocking on my door." You couldn't hold back your laugh and he discreetly paid attention to your reaction, smiling. "Anyway, how are your expectations for the weekend?"

"Great. I hope... Actually, I will get on the podium on Sunday."

"Ambitious, that's what I find amazing about you younger drivers."

"Like you were not the same in your Red Bull days."

"So I've got a fan?" The suggestive tone in Sebastian's voice at that moment didn't arouse anything in you, in your opinion, he was just joining in the fun.

"How could I not? I always saw you as a role model. Especially with your more recent community work.... In fact, if you need someone one day, I'm a person who has a pretty free schedule."

"I'd love to. Mick usually joins me too. Have you met him? You two would become good friends."

"He was from the Ferrari academy, obviously! It's years since I've seen him properly."

You may have understood a pretext that he wanted to set you up with the younger Schumacher, but preferred to ignore - well, that wasn’t actually the case for the moment, he just treated the younger boy as one of his kids. You said your goodbyes, as soon began what you had been waiting for all day.

Practice had been great, the car was living up to your expectations, so the podium you were counting on would come out on Sunday and you could prove to everyone who doubted your ability that yes, you deserved to be among the best. You were radiant, the team director even asked if there was something wrong, since most of the time you remained serious, without smiles and ready to kill someone if necessary; it was as if you could be who you always wanted to be, it was a hard way and the criticism would never stop, but nothing could take away what you were feeling. Going back to your motorhome - since you preferred to spend the weekend there and not in a decent hotel - you saw Vettel walking with his head down, taking his bike and leaving; you thought about saying hello, but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and maybe he wanted to be without anyone in his ears babbling about random things

Meanwhile, on the way back to the hotel, the German's mind could only think of one thing: Ferrari's new driver. Sebastian was conflicted by the conversation with you during the walk, it was strange for him, seeing such a beautiful person and feeling that buzz in his stomach, something he hadn't felt for months. Since Hanna died , he had completely shut down; just thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, because it was hard to live alone after spending since your teenage years by the side of someone you loved, a person who built a family - that now, he juggled between leaving the kids with her family and yours, trying to see them whenever you had a break from racing and that action made you feel guilty, of them not having their father there when they needed him the most. The grief had consumed his body, the first months the only thing that got him out of bed were the race weekends, but with each defeat, his mind weighed more and more; months later, he finally decided to start therapy, he needed to be getting better mentally, he couldn't stay in this situation forever, for the kids, for the team and for everyone that counted on him; and it helped a little, the depression was easier to deal with, the days were lighter, even though the feeling was there. Even though the beaming smile was back around the Paddock and his volunteering to help the environment was back in full swing, it still wasn't enough to make him optimistic about living, even though two years had passed since the whole tragedy and sometimes Hanna's voice came in his head, telling him to move on. For that reason, seeing you walking beside him, smiling and being interested left him with this strange feeling, of a piece of the puzzle finally being found again. He quickly cleared that thought away, it wasn't what he was thinking at all, it was just a happiness to see a person like you on the track - and even if it was a little flare of romance, you were too young for him.

This grief stage wasn’t over, of course, even though he was in the last step: acceptance, although it still hurt deep in his heart and because of it, for a while he hadn’t made the best decisions for his life, however, that stayed only with him. Vettel didn’t open up about it with anyone for a while, friends would come and talk to him, but they only received nods and “I’m fine” type of responses, until the first anniversary of her death, during a Saturday post qualy, where he broke down during an interview and Mick took him back to his driver’s room, on that afternoon he blurted all his feelings out, all the shit he had done during this period, only for two people, Mick and Lewis. Nowadays, he still wasn’t 100% back on his feet again, however, he was trying his best and maybe, the new rookie had something to do with this new motivation.

…..................................................

Your first race was a success, as hard as it was, p3 came with a taste of victory. That night you chose not to go out and celebrate, you were too tired, because something they didn't tell you before was how the car would suck your energy - it was different to what you were used to in Formula 2.

The weeks and your next races were going well, lots of podiums and scoring zones, but still no wins. The situation of not having any wins yet was driving you crazy, no matter how flawless your performance was, the media was starting to get on your nerves with harsh criticism and you hated to admit it, but it annoyed you having to listen to this negativity while other drivers with cars with equal or better machinery than yours who are still winless were getting nothing but praise. The highlight of the week was on Saturday, after an accident during qualifying, you were in Q3 and ready to take your first pole position, but due to Norris braking hard during an 'S' corner in front of you, there was no time to slow down, your car hit the back of the number 4 McLaren, bringing both of them off track and subsequently causing your current times to be deleted and a red flag. You were angry with him and were ready to cuss him out, however after a rather lengthy conversation while your cars returned to the pits, he acknowledged his mistake and you worked it out; even though he admitted it in the post qualifying interviews, there were still allegations and questions about the possible crash being your fault, which made you so angry that he ended the interviews earlier than the others.

On Sunday, even if you started P9, you would do your best to win at Imola, it was a question of honour. You changed strategies with your team, talked to everyone and tried to be as assertive as possible, you knew that they had the ability to make this win happen. Nervousness was running inside you, it seemed that the world would end as soon as the lights turned off. The race was fine, already at the start you had already got p5, the tyre changes were in the time that you had stipulated with the team of what would be better and could hold the others until the end. In the last two laps you were less than a second behind first place, which at the moment was Max, and you wouldn't hesitate to pass him no matter what. Seconds before you crossed the win line, you accelerated the car harder than before, hearing the engine squelching, however it wasn't the moment to stop, not until you passed him; that's what happened, seeing the chequered flag in front of everyone else.

"P1, you are p1." Your response was just to shout back, he was very happy and didn't know what to say.

"P1 piccolina ! You did it." You heard your engineer say on the radio.

"And Charles?" Your voice was still euphoric, you wanted to know where your teammate was standing too.

“P3.”

The interviewers this time were kinder, with several people stopping you and congratulating you on the flawless race you had run. This time you deserved quite a party.

In these weeks you got closer to Vettel, he became a great friend and mentor. You admired him a lot, because he was always a great example and to be able to call him a friend was a privilege, so you didn't hesitate to go and bother him after the race, knocking on the door of his motor home - you knew that he hadn't gone back to the hotel yet, as he always warned you and offered you company on the way back.

"What's up?" his tone of voice was not the most welcoming, maybe he wanted to be alone, however the moment he opened the door and saw it was you, his expression lightened. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Um... So, I won the race..."

"I know... I gave you a hug right after." He cracked a smile, a little confused by the situation.

"Me and a few other drivers... Almost all of them actually, we're going out tonight, it's a nightclub.... I know it's not your style, but it's a celebration and I'd love for you to go." Your face was turning red, it was such a simple request, but you wanted to hide because of sudden shyness. "We reserved some tables near the smaller dance floor, because not everyone is a fan of dancing."

"Do I really need to?" He whined, grimacing and leaning against the stopper.

"Please... Make that sacrifice for me." You gave him the puppy dog look.

He looked at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not it was really worth it to hang out with several young pilots in a nightclub. "Okay. For you, I'll go." He snapped, sighing loudly, and you gave the German a hug, squealing loudly.

"I'll give you the address! Wear something cool and that doesn't make you look like a middle-aged school teacher."

"Hey! That's an insult against my style."

It was almost 10 o'clock at night, you had just put on your high heels, finally ready; Charles was texting you five times a second, telling you to hurry or he would go alone and you would miss your ride.

When you arrived at the nightclub, you went quickly to the group where the other pilots were, greeting them and drinking your first shot of tequila to open the night properly. Half an hour later, from far away you saw curly blond hair entering the place and at the same moment you knew who it was: Sebastian; he arrived shyly, saying hello to everyone, getting close to you, who gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. You noticed that he took your advice about the outfit, this time wearing light brown jeans, a white tank top with a larger dark green short-sleeved button-up shirt and some black sneakers, but what took your breath away was his hair up in a loose bun with a few strands falling off. Maybe you checked him vigorously, but you could blame the alcohol.

"You're not sober." He commented, discreetly checking your look.

"And you won't be either," And then you handed him a bottle of beer - because you knew he liked it.

Sebastian felt guilty that he was checking your body every five minutes, a conscious voice in his head screamed that you were too young for him, too innocent - I mean, not so innocent, but that made him even more curious. His thoughts were dissipated when he saw you turning a shot of some coloured liquid, paying more attention on what you were going to do or react, his protective instinct was above the desire of wanting you; he didn't comment anything, just watched, disassociating a little bit of reality, having again that little voice that he didn't fit with the others there, that he was too old for this generation.

A few more shots and drinks in, your body already felt lighter. You were chatting with Gasly and Ricciardo, until they came up with the idea of everyone hitting the dance floor - even if most of them weren't the best dancers or didn’t like to, however, when all of them are at least tipsy, they don’t even think before abandoning the tables to go. Vettel hesitated to go with them, so you patted Daniel on the back and said you would be dancing in a few minutes.

“Hey… Don’t you wanna go with us?” You put your hand on his shoulder, looking at him.

“I don’t feel like dancing.” He didn’t look back at you, something was wrong.

“Is something bothering you? You can go if you’re not feeling good here.” Maybe it was the drunk you, but you placed your hand in his neck, making him look at you. “I’m not gonna be upset if you leave. We talked, drinked and it’s okay if you want to go.”

He was hesitating, he didn't know whether to leave or stay there, moments like that were hard; Sebastian was never someone so social, of course in his Red Bull years he partied a lot, but it was never his favourite thing to do. The German looked around and then deposited his eyes on you, still conflicted with all his thoughts running through his head. His biggest dilemma at the moment was about the Ferrari driver, whether he would stay for her, dance along and have fun, finally let go and be able to live a little, move on, on the other hand, this feeling of leaving the past behind was overwhelming. He stood for a few more seconds thinking, while you waited; "what could possibly go wrong?", "what am I being so afraid of?", "why couldn't I make out a little?" , then he sighed low, grabbed another bottle of beer and cracked a smile.

"Let's go to the dance floor." He held her hand. "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" Tu asked, not sure what exactly he was talking about.

"Grieving." You didn't know how to answer, for a moment you had forgotten he was a widower, so you just guided him into the huddle of people, squeezing his hand.

You started to dance, letting your body free, it was nice to be able to move to the beat without someone being able to judge you. Daniel came over with two shots of vodka for you, you drank them both quickly and giggled quietly, watching him do the same. This time, the drink hit a little harder, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more and more. As a result, your movements were dirtier, rolling your hips on your own while your friends were glued to unknown girls or dancing shamefully while drinking. Meanwhile Vettel was trying to dance with the younger drivers, but he felt out of place, he wasn't as young as them anymore, so after a while he started to walk past people to walk back to the table, but he caught your eye first.

"Stay dancing here with me." You held his arm, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure? Because… I can see what you want, but you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun… So maybe I'm not the one to be dancing, call Mick or Charles.

“Stop with this no sense!” You blurted the words, laughing. “Just follow the rhythm, look."

Chloe's song 'Have mercy' started playing and you cracked a smile, starting to move your body slowly, maybe you weren't noticing, but it was in a sexy way that turned Sebastian red, looking sideways until you put your arms around his neck, catching his attention.

"Keep moving with me." He placed his hands on your waist, slowly getting more into the rhythm.

You both forgot about the world around you, dancing just for each other, with your bodies glued together and embarrassed smiles as you tried to keep in rhythm until the song ended. He pulled away a little, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Montero” by Lil Nas X started playing and you cracked a big smile, turning your back to him and letting the older pilot's hands on your waist, rolling your hips against him. It took a few instants before he understood and got into the rhythm, loosening up and starting to have fun with you.

“Does your mother know you dance to older men like that?” He whispered, travelling his hands around your body.

What had happened after, was that you had spent it together, drinking even more and dancing more overtly, which the others noticed-especially Daniel and Charles, who were closer to you, but they would let the matter die. The point of leaving was when the blonde was really wanting to kiss you, but the last shred of notion he had showed.

"Let's go to the hotel." He muttered, with his accent stronger than usual.

You didn't even say goodbye to anyone, you just hailed a taxi and went to his hotel, arriving there and making sure no one saw you together. When you entered the room, he quickly locked the door and came close to you, passing his hands around your waist.

"I hope I didn't get the wrong signals." He then brought your face closer against his, initiating a sloppy kiss that you reciprocated at the same moment, slipping your arms around his shoulders and your hands stopping at his neck, caressing the spot. His tongue was already going against yours in a desperate rhythm, like he waited all night to be with you; when you broke it off to breathe, you looked at him, worried.

“Is it okay? To be kissing… I know you…” You started, but he put his finger on your lips.

“It’s okay… Let’s focus on us.”

So you kissed him again, this time with more urgency than before, allowing yourself to run your hands down his back, gripping the fabric of his button-down shirt. He broke the kiss this time, looking into your face for a few seconds, admiring you, before he started trailing kisses from the back of your ear to the collar of your dress, sucking and licking a few specific spots, which made you whimper with pleasure.

"Can I continue?" He asked as he touched the zip of your dress.

"You don't have to be so gentle, Seb."

"But you deserve it."

"And I say... You can be rough with me, I know you like it." You cracked a smile, disentangling yourself from him and sitting on the bed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, biting his lower lip before he started to move closer, standing between your legs.

“Oh… Since you like to be dominated…” His face got closer to yours where you could smell his breath, but didn’t kiss you. “Strip for me. Now.” He backed off, crossing his arms.

So this was a game and you would follow his rules, with a little bit of a twist. Slowly, you started taking away your high heels, then your panties that you put in his trouser pocket, with only a part of the red lace sticking out and finally you took your red lace bra off, putting it on the ground. Now, you were only wearing your tight black dress with your legs a little bit open while you waited for his response.

“The dress.”

“I want to keep it on.”

“I don’t remember you being in charge.” He whispered, holding your face with one hand. However, when he saw you like that, his body liked it for sure. “You can keep it on, but don’t disobey me again, okay baby?” You nodded.

He started to kiss your neck again, being rougher than before, biting and leaving marks you would regret in the next morning. Meanwhile, his hands were travelling around your body until they stayed at your breasts, pulling down the fabric just for them to pop out; Vettel looked a few seconds at your boobs, before starting to suck one and pinching the other nipple harshly. You moaned his name repeatedly, feeling your core dripping wet from the attention he gave to both of your breasts. Suddenly he stopped, earning a whine from you.

“Wait up, baby…” He backed off, getting on his knees on the floor - you never thought a man could look this hot on their knees.

He opened your legs, starting to kiss every single inch of your thighs in a provocative way and you just whined in the process, because you wanted him tasting you. “What?” He stopped, looking at you, the vision of a messy haired Vettel between your legs made you moan and throw your head back. “I need you to use your words.” As much as you wanted to say, nothing would come out, it was overwhelmingly good to just have that moment. “Lieb, use your words, I’m not going to say again.”

“I want you to taste me.” He looked at you, cracking up a smile.

Then he lowered his head again, leaving a few more kisses, especially on top of your core. The German’s tongue started to move around your clit, moving it in a tortuous pacing so you could feel every move of his; at the beginning you were already chanting his name, putting a hand on top of his head, holding his golden curls around your fingers. Unexpectedly he put two fingers inside you, moving in a quicker rhythm and curling the tips just a little bit, hitting that sweet spot of yours. What made you orgasm for the first time was that besides his fingers working it up inside you, he started to suck gently your clit - you were moaning incoherent words when you hit your climax. Looking at him when he lifted his face towards you with a smile, licking his lips made you let out a wimp, quickly pulling him up and you getting on your knees.

You kept looking at him while you undid his belt and pulled his trousers to the floor, however, his hard-looking dick with leaking pre-cum inside his boxers called more your attention. Slowly, you reached the bar of his underwear, pulling it down and seeing it; you looked up at him before he nodded so you could do what you wanted for a while. You let your tongue pass through his tip, focusing a bit on there, hearing him hold back moan. In one go, you had put his dick in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat, starting it to quickly bob up and down, finally hearing him groaning in pleasure. His hand reached your hair, guiding your head to go slower than you were. “I won’t last long… You’re too good for me.”

You pulled back, looking at him. “Then I want you to finish inside me.”

He smiled at your cockiness, taking the rest of his outfit and laying you on the bed, while he grabbed the condom and the lube.

“Do we have to use it?” You whined.

“Maybe next time we don’t.” He whispered, covering two fingers in lube and pushing them inside you. Him inside you like that made you whimper, looking at him.

“Please, just fuck me.”

“Patience, honey… I don’t want you to feel pain.”

He quickly slid on the condom and spread your legs to his sides, now getting even closer and placing his hands on your sides.

“Ready?”

You nodded, then he adjusted his dick in your entrance, moving in slowly until all of him was inside of you. Sebastian left little kisses up your neck when he saw you closing your eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, only starting to move when you gave him the signal to.

Your walls were clenching around him as he started to pick up his pace, going faster every thrust - this was near pornographic, you were both moaning each others name, fixing your gaze on each other. You could feel every single inch of him inside you going and your climax getting closer, letting your moans even louder - if that was possible. Then Vettel lowered one of his hands, starting to do circles around your clit with two fingers, which made you come for the second time of the night. The blonde wasn’t that far from reaching his either, his thrusts were more erratic and soon he groaned your name close to your ear, laying on top of you.

“That was… Wow.” You whispered, running your fingers along his back.

“Yeah, wow.” He kissed your cheek, slowly disconnecting both of your bodies, which made both of you groan with the sensation. He took off the condom, throwing away  “Let’s take a shower before we go to sleep.”

“How clever, staying the night.” You got up, wrapping your arms around him.

After you took a warm shower together - that could have been shorter if you didn’t kept kissing and caressing each other, you two laid on his bed. You were wearing one of his old Ferrari t-shirts and he was only in his boxers, drinking wine - that he already had, from the bottle.

“I always had a crush on you…” You whispered, trailing his abdomen with your fingers. “Teenage me would be very happy, especially that she used to shamefully read smut about you on the internet.”

“Oh, wow… So I have always been your target?” He joked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s just… You’re too hot to not check out.”

“So I’m winning from younger drivers, with more energy to keep you up all night?” He was still being playful, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

“Well… You just fucked me and looks like would go for a second round.” You lowered your hand to his boxers. “Besides, I like more mature men, who know how to make me feel good.”

He was at a loss of words, your words had left him red in the face and his classic smile. He placed the wine on the bedside table and pulled your body up, starting to kiss you again.

That night, you still did it two more times, enjoying every second together.

Maybe it was wrong and you would regret in the morning everything you had done together, especially for your reputations within the sport, but that moment was about enjoying what life had to offer 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 ✨

[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”

[tarjapearce]

Hear me out the book of life x bbg miguel 😍 it could either be like La muerte reader and xibalba Miguel and if that’s to ooc for Miguel then Manolo Miguel and Maria reader🙏 I feel like it’s a little ooc either way but PLSSS😞🙏

🤭 It's fine dear. I think, Miguel would do a great job as El Catrin, I feel his personality is more inclined to go with it, and the reader, well, Xibalba. Mischievous, kinda tricky but still so so loving and a softie for him :')

No proofread, just randomness ahead

"Why would I want to rule the Land of the Forgotten?" Black wings tucked behind your back as you stared at Miguel. Red eyes blinked unamused at you.

"Why can't we share? I could do a pretty good job too."

"Mi cielo, Who would watch over the land? You have the talent for it."

"You're just saying that cause you don't wanna share. The Land of the Forgotten is boring! With capital B! Nothing ever happens. It's so depressing all the time. No colors, nothing!"

"It's your realm. You're there cause you cheated on a wager." His finger flickered your nose.

You groaned in annoyance. Of course you would try and ask but to no avail. His decision absolute.

"Let's make a wager then." Smirking you planted yourself before him, his nose flared softly but waited for you to finish.

"A wager?"

"Yes. A wager . See those two boys there? They're always fighting for that girl's attention. And you and I know that only one of them will come out victorious."

"And?" His eyebrow quirqued.

"If my boy wins, I'll have your land. If the other boy wins?-"

"You'll stop meddling with the affairs of men" He caressed your cheek before disappearing.

"But it's the only fun I have left, my dear! You scared of not winning?" Your fingers walked over his chest and smirked.

-----

The wager was on. He had blessed the boy he rooted for with a pure heart, but you on the other hand had given the little jerk of a kid, an ominously beautiful looking black and green medal. The Eternal Life Medal. Whoever wielded it could be no harmed not killed. Your plan had been on a roll without any signs of stopping. Now everything you had to do was wait.

----

The two boys turned into men, both persuing their passions. Yours turned into a respectable and famous soldier that always ended up living to tell the tale thanks to his magic medal none knew about. And Miguel's boy had grown into a famous bullfighter. Even though both were different the love they had for the girl, now a lovely looking woman, remained the same.

But you had seen the hesitation in Miguel's part of the bet. Despite him being a famous matador, he didn't wish to inflict any more pain in the poor animal. He wanted to sing.

The woman seemed impressed by his act of mercy. You would have to step up in your game if you wanted the Land of The Remembered.

----

A two headed sneak had bitten Miguel's boy, he had gladly took his role among the dead if that meant to rescue his beloved.

A rare sight among the perverse humans. A pure heart. Of course it was cheating, but it'd make you one step closer to be the ruler of such wonderful and colorful land.

---

Your name echoed through your old realm as Miguel roared, full of anger. He had discovered what you had done.

"Repugnante hija de burro leproso! Hiciste trampa. Otra vez!" ( You misbegotten daughter of leprous donkey. You cheated. Again!)

"I did not do such thing!"

His boy was there, facing you, needing answers. And so was Miguel.

---

You had put Jim through his worst fears, a maze that somehow he was able to decipher, and the final test. El Toro. (The Bull)

A manifestation of every single bull slayed by his ancestors.

-

Miguel's boy had won the wager. You were to return to your realm.

"I believe you've won the wager again mi amor. Just like my heart, all over again."

His eyes softened and a bony finger was brought to your chin.

"I'm really sorry my love. Would you ever forgive me?"

"I do"

He pulled you closer to give you a deep kiss as the skies exploded in colors.

-----

(Love this movie btw 🥹❤️)

[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

Ziti as Muriel [100%]

They have absolutely no clue what they're doing, but they're doing their best. Afraid of pretty much everyone, especially higher ranking angels since they're authority (yes, even Burton). An even more terrible liar than Peppino. They've never been treated with kindness before, so they grow attached to Peppino and Gustavo really quickly.

They pose as a health inspector instead of police (and i can make them wear a suit!!!). Gus shows them some rats and they immediately fall in love with them. Of course they don't know anything about Earth, as far as they're concerned, rats in the kitchen are a normal thing. Pests? No, look at them, they're too cute to be pests! (Also side note, as much as i still don't quite like Ziti as much, they're perfect for Muriel. I can't see anyone else in that role!)

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 with Ziti 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.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[lggy]

could i ask about ur interpretation/hcs abt zenix & laurance's friendship while running the sk rebellion

oh my fucking god i LOVE zenix and laurance my beloved rebellion boys. here it comes.

Laurance already knew plenty about zenix. they meet formally for the first time right after laurance leaves into the nether at the season 2 finale. 'formally' as in zenix mistakes laurance for a stray from gene's fleet and tries to pummel him-- then zenix is pleasantly surprised to discover laurance is the first guy to actually put up a decent against him in years and he finds room to respect laur for that.

zenix doesn't know jackshit or care about laurance and keeps brushing him off as some rando, until laur mentions aphmau and garroth, who he shares a soft spot for (as much as he refuses to admit it.)

They begrudgingly team up because they have almost the same end goals. Laurance wants to slay the shadow lord and free all the souls and save aphmau, Zenix wants to slay the shadow lord and take his place as ruler of the nether. zenix genuinely believes he's stronger than shad and deserves to be king. laurance doesnt believe the last part lol. at least they both want that guy dead. cant pick and choose ur allies in nether, i guess.

the rebellion was actually vylad's idea to zenix, create an organization in order to take down their common enemy. zenix always wanted a fleet to lead and control and treat him like a king. vylad has to convince zenix that he has to actually act like a decent leader. He kinda ruled a group through fear for a while until laurance came along and managed to strike a deal with him involving a Lot of convincing but it worked. (vylad is so relieved)

the rebellion has around 20-40 members in their organization (tiny compared to how massive shad's army is). laurance is the planner, vylad is the recruiter, zenix is the fire power.

laurance feels a little guilty sometimes for promising to kill zenix that one time in s1 but then zenix pisses him off somehow and laur takes it back

zenix is very big-brother-like and loves teasing n bullying laurance. he finds it hilarious that laurance timeskipped 15 years because now that means zenix is older and now he gets eldest privileges. laurance isnt exactly thrilled about zenix and his utter lack of empathy on his situation.

theyre p much begrudgingly best friends thru circumstance. though laurance slowly eases and opens up over time and gets more comfortable joking around like his old self. zenix also eases up over time and shows respect and trust, he's very much swayed by praise and acts of kindness and gets kinda clingy 'n over enthusiastic. laurance only realizes how much zenix has opened up to him when zenix vents about missing phoenix drop and garroth n aphmau for the first time.

they're about equally matched in strength. Zenix is more powerful with raw strength, but laurance has professional training and is a lot smarter. their fights kinda end up like wrangling a bull.

they bicker and banter constantlyyyyyyy. vylad has to keep them from killing each other sometimes.

despite the banter and fighting and disagreements, they absolutely team up together to lovingly beat the shit out of gene. its almost comical how much they like tormenting gene and pissing shad off.

laurance/zenix are extremely powerful when they can actually manage to be on the same page and work together

it took years for vylad to help zenix overcome his shadow knight bloodlust, (funnily another ro'meave that never gave up on zenix.) zenix now has relatively good control of himself, about on the same level as laurance.

there may or may not be some stupid background love triangle shit going on w laurance and vylad and zenix. lonely clingy bastards love vylad

this is only a fraction of my power i am utterly obsessed w the rebellion