#its not a racers responsibility to grab that

[m4xgirlie]

alright, now that i’ve finished reeling from the Qatar GP, i’m gonna attempt to write some of chapter 3 of A Surprising Invite. this should be interesting 😂

[marysfics]

Against the Wind

Your profession is more dangerous than your girlfriend's.

Fluff

The gentle hum of the Spanish countryside was a peaceful backdrop as you adjusted the straps on your helmet, the familiar weight of it a comfort before what would be another intense downhill training session. You stood by your bike, the sleek lines and custom colors gleaming in the soft sunlight, while the rugged mountain trail stretched ahead, steep and unforgiving.

Behind you, you heard the light sound of footsteps. You didn't need to turn to know who it was; the familiar energy made your heart quicken. Alexia Putellas was watching you, as she always did before a big ride—quiet but present, her support unwavering, though today there was something more behind her eyes.

"Are you sure about this one?" she asked softly, her voice holding a gentle note of concern.

You turned, meeting her gaze. The sunlight hit her perfectly, casting a halo around her golden-brown hair, but it was her expression that caught your attention. Alexia was strong, focused, a force on and off the pitch, but when it came to your career—the steep drops, the high speeds, the unforgiving terrain—there was always a flicker of worry in her eyes.

You smiled, walking over to where she stood by your gear bag. "You ask me that every time, Ale." You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, your fingers lingering on her skin. "But yes, I’m sure. It’s just another practice run."

Her lips quirked into a smile, but the concern didn’t fade completely. "I know, but this trail is… different. Steeper, more dangerous."

You glanced back at the path, its jagged edges and unpredictable turns thrilling you in the way only a true downhill racer could understand. It was the same thrill that Alexia felt on the pitch, that need to push boundaries, to test your limits. But you understood her worry—downhill biking was unpredictable. One mistake could lead to serious injury, or worse.

Turning back to her, you reached for her hand. "I get it. I know you worry about me, but I love this just like you love football. The adrenaline, the challenge… it’s who I am."

Her fingers tightened around yours, a sigh escaping her lips. "And I love who you are. That’s why I worry."

Your heart warmed at her words, and you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Alexia returned it, her free hand resting against your cheek as if grounding herself in the moment, in you.

When you pulled away, her eyes searched yours. "I’m proud of you, you know. Always. For chasing your dreams, for being fearless."

You smiled, a flicker of pride and love swelling in your chest. "I’m proud of you too. You’re unstoppable out there, Ale. And you’re always there for me. I couldn’t do this without you."

Alexia’s expression softened, but the shadow of concern still lingered. "Just… be careful, okay?"

You nodded, your smile reassuring. "Always." You squeezed her hand before pulling back, grabbing your bike and rolling it to the trail’s edge. You could feel her eyes on you as you mounted the bike, the weight of her emotions following you like a second shadow.

As you positioned yourself, the familiar excitement bubbled up. The trail was daunting, with its sharp bends and sudden drops, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Still, Alexia's presence, her constant support and care, gave you a new sense of responsibility. You wanted to be at your best—for her, for the future you both saw together.

"Ready?" you called back over your shoulder, your voice light, trying to ease the tension.

Alexia’s arms were crossed, but there was a glint of pride in her eyes now. "Always."

With that, you pushed off, the wind immediately rushing past you as your bike soared down the first steep incline. The world around you blurred, the trees and rocks becoming mere flashes in your peripheral vision as you focused on the path ahead. Each turn demanded your full attention, every dip and jump testing your reflexes.

But even in the midst of the high-speed descent, you thought of Alexia. Her love, her concern—it wasn’t a weight, but rather a reminder of what waited for you at the bottom of the mountain. You weren’t just racing for the thrill of it anymore; you were racing for her, for the life you were building together.

The final stretch approached, and with one last burst of speed, you flew across the finish, coming to a skidding stop. Your heart pounded, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but it was the sound of Alexia’s approaching footsteps that grounded you.

Before you could even dismount, she was there, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "You did it," she whispered into your ear, her voice filled with pride, relief, and something deeper—love.

You grinned, pulling off your helmet and resting your forehead against hers. "I did. And I’m still in one piece."

Alexia chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "Thank God."

For a moment, the world around you disappeared, and it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of that mountain, together against the wind.

And as long as you had Alexia by your side, you knew you could face any challenge, any race—because she made you feel invincible, even in the face of danger.

"I love you," you murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple.

"I love you too," she replied, her arms tightening around you. "But next time, I’m picking a trail that’s a little less... life-threatening."

You laughed, the sound echoing through the valley below, and in that moment, you knew you’d never trade this life for anything—not the risk, not the thrill, and certainly not the woman who stood with you through it all.

[r3starttt]

STREET RACER!ABS

nsfw | read this before or DNI

Legs wide open, resting on top of Abby’s shoulders. Cold breeze hitting your bare thighs and a soft shinning illuminating the beautiful scene in between your legs, hitting right behind Abby’s back who kept her pretty half leaded eyes completely focused on your cunt. Her hands kept caressing your legs, running her cold palm up and down the sides of your upper thighs. Calloused fingers making small circles around your knees causing your skin to flourish.

You, on the other side, were trying your best to hold your weight. Head resting on your shoulders and elbows resting on wherever you had space. Muffled whines coming out of your lips and chest pumping up and down rapidly. You caught her slicing a cautionary glare at you, she needed to hear you so desperately, and you needed to please her with it, you loved it. Yet, the idea of someone hearing wasn’t quite the best scenario, not since she’d just won another race and people would do anything to ruin that luck of hers.

“Can’t baby, y’ know we - fuck - can’t” your words came out almost as a reflex, so fast however audible enough. Abby groaned, abruptly moving away from your cunt. You frowned as a response, amusedly watching her hands run from your legs to her face, cleaning your juices off. Her sudden change of demeanor elicited a quick sigh out of you, confused at what to do. Her eyes kept locked on yours, until she wasted no more time, grabbing you by the waist to drag you closer.

Abby tilted her head to the side, humorlessly clicking her tongue “come here”. You obeyed, noticing her pushing her sleeves up to her elbows “m’ just thanking you for making me win, lemme making up to you” her hand found its way to your cheek, passing her index and middle finger over it until they got to the sides of your lips. “please, angel”

You opened your mouth enough to let her put her fingers inside, nodding quietly. “wanna hear you too” her weight got suddenly noticed by your pretty much fucked brain, you could feel her knee in between your legs. It was torture to not close them, the friction was right there and you needed it.

Right as she pleased, you let out a moan, feeling her fingers pressing down your tongue slowly moving them away. She chuckled at you, bit mockingly but just enamored by the sight, by the reward of her hard work. You looked so desperate, and the only thing containing her to look the same was exactly how bad you needed her. It was the least she could do, put you first.

Abby opened her mouth, leaning closer to the side of your neck while her fingers kept running down your body, taking her time to spread your saliva down your body. Wet kisses were left down your neck, until your clavicle and then up your jawline. Your sight so far was her now loosen strands from the usual slicked braid she did for the races, gently brushing over your face.

Soft pleads kept brushing your lips, accompanied by her name desperately mumbled. Your eyes were either open and flickering or closed so tight it made all worse, you could feel your walls clenching around the emptiness she’d left on you every time her lips pressed on your skin “I know princess, I know”

Her fingers finally made contact with your slit, eliciting a cocky smile on her face at how socked you are. Her fingers ran up and down your cunt, slowing her movements whenever she got to your clit. Until nor you or her could wait anymore, it was equally torturous for both. Both her fingers slid until your arousal, pluming them in and out at enough speed to make you want to pull away from how overstimulated you were already.

Her kisses change to ones more sloppy, making a mess with her own saliva all over your body. Sucking and tasting every inch of your skin and then back to your mouth to not only hear but feel your pretty moans and whimpers. She responds equally, whining at your taste and feeling under her, at how you clench around her fingers, how you try to close your legs to do your best and make this last as long as possible for both. “so pretty f’ me ángel, so good”

Bucking your hips to ride her fingers, your hands grip the back of her hair, tucking at her braid. She tries to pick up her pace as much as she can but the pure image of pleasing you makes her wet to her knees. And the way you grip her hair, god you know how to treat her good.

She knows you won’t last any longer, otherwise you wouldn’t be so focused on her, on trying to make yourself be aware of something else that isn’t her fingers pumping in and out of you. She can sense your stomach tensing under her, your legs rubbing together the whenever you get the chance. “cum f’ me princess, yeah?”

A vulgar moan is head out your open lips, which she silences with her own lips, taking advantage of how fucked up you are to free herself from your grip on her braid. Abby can feel her fingers getting covered by your slick, nonetheless she keeps moving them even after you’ve finished, after your thighs and her expensive leather sit are all covered by it. She couldn’t care any less about all that when she has you underneath her like this.

The kiss is nasty, so sloppy and wet, but god it feels so good. Seeing her all pussydrunk, tasting her and now feeling all that adrenaline she’s been keeping for today, it’s the best reward for you. A satisfied sheepish smile appears on both your faces, finally feeling her fingers out of you.

She cleans herself on your thighs before crawling away from you, being stopped by your weak arms wrapping around her one last time “love you” you murmur, wandering your eyes all over her face “love you too, angel”

[starsofang]

Finish Line

Street Racer!AU / Part 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.

TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise

A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3

The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.

The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.

You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.

You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.

It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.

“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.

“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”

You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”

The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”

The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”

Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.

John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.

Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”

You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.

“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”

That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.

You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.

Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.

Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.

The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.

They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?

The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.

The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.

The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.

“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.

You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.

“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.

“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.

“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.

“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.

It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.

“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.

“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”

“Maze,” you offered.

Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.

Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.

“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.

Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort

Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.

“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”

You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.

Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.

Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.

Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.

You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.

Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.

He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.

You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.

Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.

The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.

Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.

All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.

Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.

The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.

This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.

The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.

When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.

You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.

The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.

The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.

The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.

He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.

Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.

Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.

Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.

Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.

Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.

As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.

The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.

You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.

Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.

You were second, Ghost was first.

You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.

The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.

“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.

“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”

Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.

“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”

He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.

[therealmylesmorales]

Shut up, and Drive

Another request for the main homie @ficsonpost-its 🫶🏾 featuring Street Racer!Claire and her loser!gf meeting for the first time

WC: 600+

Your friend was big into cars. Always have, even when you guys were kids. So when they pretty much begged you to come with them for a motorcycle meet up, you half heartedly agreed.

It’s not like anything better was going on that weekend.

You drifted away from your friend after trailed behind them for almost an hour; they were busy talking to one of the car owners, pretty much fangirling over the vintage Chevy. Somehow, you made it to the other side of the lot where the motorcycles were. These seemed a lot cooler.

You lingered by a few of them, most of them looking the same until you came across a modern bike that stopped you in your tracks. The metal was a cherry red with dark accents across it. A different sight from the usual all black bikes. Along with the coloring, the logo on the bike that said HARLEY-DAVIDSON, it was almost hard to move onto the next.

It was easy to say that this was the best looking bike that you seen yet.

”She’s a beauty, right?” A voice said from beside you.

When you turned to make a dry retort, your voice suddenly got caught in your throat. Fuck, she was pretty. Too pretty, even. Her brown waves were pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her round face. And her eyes seemed too blue to be real; yet you couldn’t seem to look away from them.

“Is it—she yours?” You asked, watching as she ran her hand over the handles. You then noticed the white helmet that was dangling from her other hand and the upper half of her body was covered by a leather jacket in the same color of the bike she was now leaning on.

She hummed. “Fixed her up myself. Definitely my favorite.”

”How many do you have?”

“Just two,” she said. “This one for showing, then the other for driving.” The girl gave you a bright smile and raised your hand to you. “I’m Claire.”

You were hoping your hand wasn’t sweating when you shook hers. “Y/N.”

“You go to RCU?” She asked, pulling at the sleeve of your black sweatshirt with yellow writing. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around then.”

”I really just go to classes then back home,” you answered pitifully. “My friend actually had to force me out tonight.”

Fuck, that sounded sad.

But Claire didn’t seem to mind, seeing how she let out a laugh at your answer. “I’m glad they did. Seeing how I got to meet you. You made this boring night a little better.”

You averted your eyes at her response, rubbing the back of your neck. Claire had no problem leading the conversation, seeing how you were at a loss for words. “Hey, how long are you staying?”

However long you want, you thought. However, you settled for, “I’m…not sure.”

Claire’s voice lowered, leaning closer to you as she spoke. “A couple of us are staying after to place bets on a few races. I’d like to see your face in the crowd, cheering me on, maybe?”

“You-you want me there?”

“Mhm,” she smiled. “You could be my good luck charm.”

You tried to hold your smile back at her answer; you failed but Claire found it cute. The moment between you two was interrupted by a man with blond hair who called out for Claire.

When he saw you in close proximity to her, he sent you a friendly nod. “Claire, you ready?”

”Yeah, I’ll be with you in a sec, Leon,” Claire answered. When it was just the both of you, Claire reached over to grab your hand. “Lookin’ forward to seeing you, then.”

And much to your surprise, Claire sent you a wink before you parted ways, the touch of her hand lingering.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, feeling a small wave of confidence in yourself. If a girl as pretty as that seemed THAT interested in you, maybe you weren’t that big of a loser others thought.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

SUPER BUMPY!

michael kaiser: the new formula one champion that’s taking the world by storm. he’s unreasonably picky, and he’s always finding faults with a team that can’t seem to ever keep up with him. so he takes matters into his own hands in seeing if his new car for the season will live up to his expectations, all with a little help from you.

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): formula one au, slightly suggestive content

Kaiser was a finicky man. He had the bite to back his bark, and no matter how horrible his personality on and off the track was, no one could hold a candle to his abilities as a racer. That was the only reason why his company tolerated him and spoiled him to this extent, because everyone knew that he was an irreplaceable talent.

He grabbed your hand, half-dragging-half-leading you through the dimly lit hallways of the Bastard Munchen headquarters. His grip on you was tight and firm, like he didn’t want to let you go, and you practically stumbled through the winding staircases and sterile hallways as he led you to the garages.

“They approved the new cars.” He grinned, his smirk radiating with the sickening ambition that catapulted him into the world’s spotlight as the young, undefeated champion of the Formula One world. “I really hope they added all the things I asked for. I have no use for a car that can’t keep up with me. Less so a team that can’t fulfill what I ask of them.”

You had half a mind to scold him but decided against it. Noa constantly chided Kaiser about being nice to his management team rather than acting like a tyrant bossing the mechanics and engineers about how “the car isn’t responsive enough” or how he specifically asked for certain tires rather than the ones they got for him.

He was clearly excited to see these new cars, and at least this time around, he had enough faith to try them out. He had stormed out mid-testing last season when he found out that the experimental cars then didn’t go as fast as he wanted them to be, and the poor engineers had to scramble against time to up the car’s limits in time for the race.

Kaiser threw open the door to the garage, and you flinched when he flicked the lights on. You blinked past the discomfort, your stunned eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness as he herded you towards the center of the garage.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He breathed. He finally let you go, skipping over to the vehicle presented to you.

Just like what Kaiser said, the car really was gorgeous. A sleek black and red, emblematic of his team’s colors, welcomed you. Gold decals glimmered under the spotlight-esque lighting of the room, and the curves of the car screamed of a luxurious speed befitting that of the racetrack’s emperor. Ads for his sponsors were emblazoned on the sides, the colorful banners and letters only reminding you of how much global attention Kaiser held in the palm of his hand. Even though it was stationary and parked inside the garage, you could easily imagine it speeding down the racetrack.

And with Kaiser inside… Right now, he was dressed down in his casual clothes, but you couldn’t help but think about how stunning he’d look with the car: the prideful emperor, in that tight bodysuit uniform—matching black, red, and gold as the car—with his trademark blue rose tattoo peeking over the neckline, blond-blue hair cascading down his shoulders like the stunning opulence of royalty, holding his personalized helmet as if it were a treasure bestowed onto him. 

Kaiser looked like he couldn’t wait to take it out and push the car to its very limits. Your heart twisted at imagining your driver boyfriend in all of his racing bravado. Kaiser was adamant about taking you out to all of his races, but no matter how many times you saw him in his uniform, raring for the tracks, you always got all blushy and flustered at the thought of his well-toned silhouette itching to demolish his opponents.

“Wow…!” You clapped your hands. “I’m not too familiar with the specifics of the car, but it looks so pretty!”

“Finally that useless team of mine pulls off something good,” he laughed smugly. He turned back to you and motioned for you to come closer. “But a pretty car doesn’t mean shit if it doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“You’ll get to take it out for test runs soon, right?” You tiptoed closer to him. His blue eyes sparkled with an almost sadistic glee as he traced the hood of the car with his fingertips. You looked up at him, offering a small smile as you took your place by his side. “They went all out with the design, so I’m sure they put in a lot of thought everywhere else. I know you complain a lot about how your team can’t keep up with you, but they really do the best they can for you.”

“A team that doesn’t live up to my standards means nothing to me,” Kaiser snorted and shook his head. “But that’s a conversation for later. I’ll tear them apart once I actually have a reason to. I’m here because I want to test this car in a different way.”

You tilted your head. You thought he had dragged you here to show off the car to you, to watch you gush over his newest steed and fawn over him with your praises. Well, even if that wasn’t entirely his intention, you were bound to do it eventually at some point, but now you were the slightest bit confused.

What did he bring you here for? It was far too early to actually take the car out on the track, and all that the two of you could do was admire it visually like this.

As if he could sense your surprise, Kaiser chuckled darkly and reached for you. You gasped when he pulled you into his chest, his arms easily ensnaring you and turning you to face him. 

“What are you making such a face for?” He leaned in, and your breath caught in the back of your throat when his lips ghosted over your cheeks. “I always have a plan. An emperor always keeps his subjects within check.”

You knew he was having fun watching you shudder in his hold. “Wh-What did you bring me here for then? I thought you only wanted to show me your new car…”

He pushed on your shoulders, and you cried out when he shoved you down onto the hood of the car. You landed unceremoniously onto the polished material with a loud squeak, your limbs immediately splaying out against the car. 

You whipped your head up at Kaiser, equal parts flabbergasted and irritated. “Hey, what are you-“

The car shifted with Kaiser’s weight when he got on top of you, his hands firmly planted down onto the hood of the car on either side of your head. One of his knees slid up your legs, leaving you stuck between his body and the car as you stared up at him. Your voice died out mid-sentence as your heart rate picked up dangerously, and Kaiser’s piercing azure eyes lowered into a seductive half-lidded gaze.

He grinned down at you, uncannily resembling a cat that had caught a helpless mouse in his paws. “Do you want to know what I brought you down here for? It’s to test the car’s endurance, darling.”

“Endurance…?” You didn’t dare raise your voice any louder than a whisper. Kaiser ducked down, and you froze as he exhaled against the curve of your neck, where your pulse thrummed rapidly inside of your throat.

“Mhm. You heard me.” His voice was taut, brimming with the same tense electricity that he reserved only for races. The same icy concentration that he only ever spoke with when he had honed in on something, the kind of cruel professionalism that had left countless second-rate champions broken in his wake. “Every race car gets a little scuffed up during races. They crash into the track’s borders, skid against the roads—hell, they even crash into other cars. I gotta make sure this beaut right here can handle everything I throw at it.”

You tried to squirm away to no avail, and the blond’s manic smirk only widened when he felt the car shifting under his palms. “What does that have to do with me?”

“It means-,” he dipped his head, and you spluttered over your words when his lips grazed over your jugular, “-I can be a little rough with you as an experiment to see if my new car can keep up.”

Oh my god.

You thought the wind was being knocked out of you when Kaiser snickered against your skin. He pressed a flurry of kisses to your neck, his tongue cheekily swirling suggestive circles against your sensitive body. You clenched your eyes shut and pushed at his toned chest, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer to you or to shove him away. Not that it really mattered when he had you right where he wanted, pinned underneath him while he kissed you over and over again.

“K-Kaiser, wait- we shouldn’t be doing this here-,” you gasped out, scrunching your face up. Hot shivers ravage your body, and the sounds of him kissing you repeatedly filled your ears. You hated how smooth your boyfriend could be at times, managing to turn you into a flustered goop underneath without any warning. He knew which buttons to press to get you to melt for him, and his kisses weren’t doing you any favors to think rationally. 

He licked at your skin, and a cold shudder ripped down your spine. “What, are you scared? That someone might see? C’mon, darling, it’s not like I haven’t kissed you in front of other people.”

“There’s that, but-,” your hand landed on the hood of the car, pressing against it slightly, “-this is just wrong! We shouldn’t be making out at work, let alone on top of a car that’s still in testing!”

“I can do as I want. You know that they can’t do anything to me.” Kaiser’s teeth latched onto your soft skin, and you yelped out. A stinging pain rushed to your head, prickling all over your neck. You could tell that he had bitten deep, fully with the intention of leaving a mark, and tears welled up in your eyes as your poor nerves recoiled at the pain. 

You also knew he bit you there on purpose. On the left side of your neck, right above your shoulder. The very same place that the tattoo on his neck was, the royal blue rose that struck fear and respect into the heart of every racer worth their salt in the Formula One world. Kaiser’s tongue licked over the bite marks fondly, and you could feel the vibrations of his haughty laugh spreading across your skin. 

“Perfect,” he purred proudly. You knew your boyfriend better than anybody else in the world, and if there was something he wanted, he sure as hell was going to get it. You laid there, all meek and trembling, your heart hammering in your chest in anticipation of what he was going to do next to you. Would it be crazy of you to say that this excited you in some sick and twisted way? Knowing that he could toy with you this easily and you’d eat it all up happily?

Your breathing threatened to give out on you when his tongue was replaced with his hand, his fingertips brushing over the prominent bite marks on your chest. He admired his handiwork, with the same kind of glee you knew he looked down at fallen opponents with. 

“That’ll turn blue once it heals,” Kaiser remarked. “Probably around the time I get to take the car out for its first actual drive. That way we’ll be matching, and everyone can see what I’ve done to you.”

Your stomach twisted with sick anticipation. Millions of eyes on you, the whole world watching to see what fledgling champion would think of this year’s new car. Everyone would be admiring him with bated breath to see how this season would kick off, and his mark on your neck would be there for everyone to know that he’s laid claim to you.

He leaned over again, looming over you as you pressed your back fully against the sleek hood of his racing car. 

“But this is just the beginning of the season, darling,” he whispered. “And I’m not sure if I’m quite done testing this car’s ‘endurance’ just yet. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, so bear with me.”

The hand around your neck tightened just a hair. “You wouldn’t mind if I got a little rougher, would you?”

x

[lv-tangle-universe-blog]

Lp... You're licking your arm... I don't care if you taste like some blueberry sour patch kid...stop

( After her daily chat with King Candy, she drives off to diet coca cola mountain, it's been a few years after she spawned in, and she's getting accustomed to the place and her new looks, as weirdly convenient as they are, she finds her most favorite part of the day is visiting Vanellope, that little girl is so brilliant. Glitch and all, she tried to make a cart that was peddled power. It was very unfortunate that taffeta had to find out, come by, it ruined the fun, she giggled she came up on to the mountain in her low rider, she was planning to make up yesterday with sledding, pulling out some waivers from on top of lowrider, to show her, last place walked to the false wall, putting her ear to it, making sure at her new friend is not crying, she can hear the echoes of silent sobs, which made the death glitch smile, knowing this is the perfect opportunity walking in,

Vanellope was sitting on her sponge cake bed, crying into a candy wrapper. Those bullies stopped her from getting her dreams again, but she wasn't gonna give up. Last place knew that "woah, hay?... What happened?" she strained concern as she walked over to Vanellope slowly putting an arm around her shoulder..."taffda came by the junkyard and... *sniff* and..." The poor little girl looks like she's gonna devolve. Into tears again, last place slowly put her arms around the little girl in parental instinct, "ssshhh, shhh, sh, she's just a big bully, you know that"..."Why can you race, and I can't...it's not fair"..."Vanellope...*sigh*... We went over this, I have to or"..."or king candy will arrest you. I know, I know, just why can't you give me the coin, So I can race in your stead"... last place sighs again, "That's not how it works, sugar spot," she stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out a coin that floats in her hand as she open palms tries to hand her it, "go on, try to take it if you can get it out of my hand I'll even let you race with lowrider" the little glitch knew how much lowrider meant to its older sister, if you get to touch the steering wheel, let alone start up The engine is a privilege. So Vanellope grabbed the coin and tried to pull it out of the open palm of the dark glitch in front of her, realizing that despite it floating off of her hand, it was very stuck in place, she kept pulling and pulling desperate to get the coin kind of her hand before turning red face and giving up,"is this some kind of joke, some form of prank,"..." Sorry, sugar spot, I wish it was." Last place waved her hand with the coin in it. trying to chuck it or throw it anywhere, but it doesn't come off, "this thing only seems to come off when I want to race, or i'm putting it in my pocket" "wow, that's just mean lp, you know it wouldn't come off, and yet you tease me with the promise of driving lowrider" she pouted "yeah, I know, but I wouldn't give you such determination, if I didn't"... The death glitch laughed at its younger sibling,"Don't be too hard on yourself, besides, I brought some wafers so we can take them up. Ice cream summit to go sledding"... Vanellope still looked very upset about the teasing and something else..."Look, kid, i'm restricted by limitations to, i know it doesn't seem like many limitations, but I could never cross the finish line in first to be a good racer, i'm not even allowed to be on the roster, but i just doubled my focus on something else,"..."Like being the best glitch disappearing act"..."Exactly - wait, what did you call me?"..."disappearing, act like you make things and yourself disappear at times"... Last place gives a weird look before continuing "maybe we can find something else in your code that tells you what you're good at, and so we don't have to, well, put everyone in danger"... She pauses, waiting for a response... but doesn't get one, "kid, what am I gonna do with you?"... Last places with a chuckle "maybe go sledding on those ice cream summits," the little glitch responds, "exactly, now, come on I left lowrider, running, and I don't wanna anybody taking her while i'm talking to you"... She walks out with the little glitch. Following right behind her, she smiles, hoping this will take her mind off of racing for the day and keep her out of the roster race)

[mediumtires]

bestie pls i need more christian/toto content, a drabble, a ramble, long tags, just SOMETHING!! you have me hooked and now i'm addicted i've read 7 years so many times it's embarrassing

ok hear me out you guys keep asking and i don’t have anything proper that i could offer you just yet BUT i saw an ask a while ago where someone said lewis isn’t going to renew his contract next year and saying “i won’t join another team” isn’t saying “i’ll be here next year i trust this team” etc etc etc and like, i hate myself for it but walk with me for a second here……………..

Lewis is the one to drop the bombshell of his retirement. Not his camp, not Merc, not PR. There is no tidy Instagram post in black and teal, no quote on quote, no text box announcing the retirement of one of the greatest. It’s Lewis who types it up, a hundred words max, and before he puts it on his story he calls Toto and lets him know.

Toto is in his office in Brackley, behind his big desk, glass walls, open door policy, looking out at a bunch of his employees steadily working away and none of them realise, none of them understand what is happening in the very moment he picks up the phone, what it does to him to hear the words, “I’m sorry man” and “I don’t wanna be the next Alonso” and “I can’t do another season of this” and “I need to let it go”. Toto’s world shifts, bends, and slowly glides off its axis. A funny joke, he thinks at first, before the realisation hits.

Toto has experienced many a crisis in his life. Some of them more serious, more real than others, but each one of them prepared him for the next, for what’s to come. His body catches up quicker than his brain. It’s the physical signs first, of going into fight or flight. Blood pumping, trouble breathing, sweaty hands, mouth dry. Racing heart. Funny expression. A racing heart. He’s always thought of himself as having a racer’s heart, especially in moments like this. He can calm himself, he can self regulate. He can manipulate himself, breathe through it, pretend he’s behind the wheel, pretend this is a life or death split second kind of decision calling for nothing but calm and steady hands.

He does; breathe through it. If there is one thing he is, steadfast and unswerving, it’s a leader. Responsibility sits tight in his neck as he seeks out his team, first the closest five, then senior personnel. He is not going to make this into a huge thing - it is - but he will have to make his people aware before Lewis lets the rest of the world in on his secret. Word is going to spread fast.

It does; spread fast. Toto was given an hour. He uses it wisely, types out a company wide announcement, and then another email, a more personal one, to the PR department. Tells them to leave things until tomorrow. There is no point in rushing this.

Toto leaves his office at 5 on the dot. Turns off his computer, does not take any documents, does not take any work to look at later, just shoves his travel mug into his bag, grabs his jacket and makes sure to turn the lights off on his way out.

When he gets home, Christian’s Range Rover is parked where it’s always parked, in the left space next to the stone steps leading up to the front door. It stands a little wonky today, the left front tyre kissing the grass. It’s an unusual sight. Christian is very particular about his car, and his lawn.

The dogs yap at his feet when Toto walks through the door, drops his shit on the sideboard with no mind to clean up after himself. He drags his feet through the foyer and into the kitchen. It’s still light out, it’s July, and Christian has opened the patio doors to let the warm summer breeze in.

His face has something critical to it when he locks eyes with Toto, crow’s feet deeper than usual as he watches him approach. Toto can feel the weight of his gaze on him, how he drags it up his body, down, up again, only to settle on his face for good.

“Colleague or husband?” Christian asks.

“Husband,” Toto says and folds himself into Christian’s opening arms, tucks his face into the crook of his neck and inhales deeply, allowing himself to just close his eyes and breathe. No need for pretences here. Car in the gravel, engine off, steering wheel dislodged and hands in his lap. It’s okay if his fingers shake. Christian knows he’s not a racer by heart.

[shepherds-of-haven]

For the writing ask meme:

What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

What is your deepest joy about writing?

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage. (i’m not picking one, just grab something that was fun to write!)

Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

-emeraldgreaves

What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

My writing ritual, up until around May, was like a little bit cursed: I'd typically write from 10 PM to around 4 or 5 AM, which is obviously not great. I'd also put on a show that was guaranteed to not distract me on extremely low volume (like 1 out of 100) in the background, so a show I'd seen a million times before, like the Office or Bob's Burgers.

Since coming back from a trip to Europe, though, I saw an opportunity to reset a schedule I'd kept to for the last 12 years and have now been rising and writing at a more appropriate time! Nowadays my writing ritual is going to the library, putting on fantasy or TTRPG orchestral music (particularly by Ivan Duch, who is composing the music for the game) in my earbuds, and clacking away! This ritual is only cursed in that some really weird shit happens sometimes at the library, but sometimes I get around that by reserving a study room for myself or me and my partner. 😌

What is your deepest joy about writing?

Hmmm, it seems cheap to say all of it! I think the satisfaction of completing a story that you've not only mapped out and plotted through, but actually executed, and then elicited strong emotional responses from others (hopefully as according to plan) as a result of all of that hard work is a truly joyful thing to experience. But just writing about the characters, exploring their psychology, and especially building their relationships to each other is also a huge part of it, and it's also a joy to explore and flesh out and create an entire new world for them to exist in... I just love all of it!

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage. (i’m not picking one, just grab something that was fun to write!)

Around him, Scythia stirred to life beneath the skin-soaking warmth of early morning. It was just past dawn, so the heat of the day was not yet beating down on the city like a hammer against an anvil; but in an hour or two, it would edge close to brutal. Herald tipped his head back and let himself absorb the sights and sounds of the city while he still could. Long-necked white herons—called sword-birds for their vicious beaks—dueled together in lazy displays in the streets. Charcoal-eyed concurs beckoned him from curtained doorways, then caught sight of his own brand of ownership and looked away. There was the heavy, acrid scent of fuel and machine oil as he passed the Metal District, where mechanics in their garages toiled away on the racers and war rigs that crisscrossed the Badlands in choking clouds of dust. Underneath a shabby awning, a suntouched fortune-teller gave advice to a lean, restless merc with scarred shoulders and a face studded with fearsome metal rings.

This is from my current novel manuscript, which I keep telling people is like a cross between Mad Max and X-Men, but it's really evolved to become this more magical and intricate science fantasy, because I can't stay away from magic and humanoid/alien races and disparate cultures and, like, oppression and persecution, I guess. I really thought it was going to be a gritty dieselpunk adventure with machine guns and monster trucks and things, which it still has, but I think this passage (from the first chapter) kind of showcases its latest vibe, which is a bit more mystical and fantastical, as well. I've rewritten the first chapter at least five or six times, with this particular passage only being appended in the fourth or so iteration, so I think it's a good way of seeing (to me, the only one who read the first few drafts) how far the world has come, when the city and its environs weren't really described at all! I also just like the rhythm of the passage: there's something about it that feels satisfying. :)

Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

It's an absolute vital necessity to me. It actively bothers me when I see the Oxford comma not being used... I will always use the Oxford comma. You could pry it from my cold, dead hands and I'd still be using it on my gravestone!

[smbhax]

Power Glove (Mattel, NES, 1989)

POWERPLAY. The Power Glove.™ You plug it in like any joystick. But the similarity stops there. Because now you don't just guide the action. You're in the action. As soon as you put on the Power Glove, its 3-D sensors track the position of your hand in space. You enter the program code. Calibrate the glove. Center it. And feel the mechanical moves of a joystick give way to free-flowing, instant response. You actually knock out Mike Tyson. Grab the steering wheel of Rad Racer.® Bank and fire your P-38 in 1943™ The Battle of Midway. All simply by moving your hand. The Power Glove has a unique programmable keypad that gives the best NES™ players moves they've never had before—and never will have with a joystick. Twist your write for immediate head butt in Double Dragon. Bend a finger for "Thrash Mode"—your character turns and shoots in all possible directions. Bend another for "One-Shot Turnaround": you automatically change direction and fire faster than you ever could with a joystick. With new moves at your disposal, it makes your joystick games especially vertical scroll games, new. Different. More exciting. And that's only the beginning.

[messengerofmechs]

5, 12 and 19 for Castor please!

5. Do you have any role models? Tell us a little bit about them.

"It should be no surprise that Cityspeaker Radix has been a huge role model to me." Castor gives a slight, fond smile, "She was very straightforward, but never unkind. Always saw even the small issues were addressed, never letting anyone or anything fall to the wayside. She very much was another mentor to me as I learned how to be a cityspeaker."

"And of course Pollux itself. Its boundless enthusiasm and passion has always inspired me, long before the role of cityspeaker even crossed my mind." Castor's face lights up. Literally, as the markings on her face glow, signifying a response from the titan only the cityspeaker is privy too. Castor sighs, "and of course its beauty is remarkable as well."

12. How would you describe your style?

"Well I must admit I have quite the attachment to the synthwave street-racer look. I know it's hardly the most unique style but to me, nothing quite beats driving down the neon-lined outer roads of Pollux under full view of the cosmos and with the skyline of the main hub in the distance." Castor rattles off her response, guesturing out the window in the general direction of the roads she's referring to. "When I was younger, I spent a couple days planet-side on.... oh what was it. Phobos Prime? I saw my first sunset there. The colors that the sky had... Well, I haven't changed my paint since."

19. Describe an average day in your life.

"My day starts pretty early, I try to get out for a drive first thing in the morning and grab a bite to eat at my favorite bakery. Then, it depends on the day, but there's usually a lot of meetings. I meet with the city council very regularly, any planetary representatives if we're in orbit, and there's usually a couple ongoing projects that need Pollux's and my input. I meet with artists and curators, help with public events, and even do interviews sometimes." Castor smiles a bit cheekily. "And I always make time to check in with Pollux to see how it's doing."

"Some days I'm traveling all over city and some I'm in my office. Being a cityspeaker really is facilitating communication between our community and our city, and that conversation ebbs and flows just like any other." Castor speaks warmly, clearly proud of her work.

"I'll generally eat out either at the places near city hall or wherever I happen to be at the time. Pollux always has suggestions on new restaurants it thinks I should try. I think it's a bit jealous that it can't try the food too." Castor's markings glow again. She chuckles and adds, "Now I know for sure."

Castor settles, and continues around the disruption, "At the end of the day I try to take some time to relax, though I don't always get that chance. The nights here are just as busy as I'm sure you know. Especially if there's a show planned." Castor sighs and sinks into her seat, "and, well, that's just about it. I head home, recharge, and do it all over again. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

[snow-rider-racing-gamer]

Why Snow Rider is the Ultimate Winter Racing Game

If you are searching for an engaging and exciting winter racing game, look no further than Snow Rider. This online gaming experience offers players a unique blend of fun, skill, and competition, making it a standout choice for gamers and winter sports lovers alike.

The first thing that grabs your attention in Snow Rider is its stunning graphics. The snowy landscapes are beautifully designed, creating a visually captivating environment. The attention to detail in the sledding mechanics enhances the overall experience, making you feel like you are racing through a winter paradise.

Gameplay is where Snow Rider truly shines. The controls are smooth and responsive, allowing for precise maneuvering as you navigate through challenging courses. As you race against the clock, you’ll encounter various obstacles that require quick thinking and sharp reflexes. This dynamic gameplay keeps players on their toes and ensures that no two races are ever the same.

Moreover, the competitive nature of Snow Rider adds to its charm. Players can compete against friends or other online racers, fostering a sense of community and rivalry. Sharing your high scores and challenging others to beat your time is a fantastic way to enhance the gaming experience.

Another noteworthy aspect of Snow Rider is its accessibility. The game is unblocked, meaning you can easily access it from various devices, whether at home, school, or work. This convenience allows players to enjoy a quick race whenever they have a few moments to spare.

In addition, the game continually evolves, with regular updates and new challenges being introduced. This commitment to improvement ensures that players always have something new to look forward to, keeping the gameplay fresh and exciting.

Ultimately, Snow Rider offers an unparalleled winter racing experience that combines stunning visuals, engaging gameplay, and a competitive edge. So, don’t miss out on this thrilling adventure; jump on your sled and start racing today!

[the-firebird69]

NEW! Macalister Motors Superfin from Fast Furious Spy Racers by RGTV

https://youtu.be/EoBQ95ijV1s?si=RNeEI0U82JuYs8Ou

The car is unique to the movie in other words we think that we make it and they use it in the movie and it's not a known brand and it's very hot and it's designed very well and designed to be a fly car and a converted car a front wheel drive car of any kind will work and we need this and we do know what the study has shown about the regular sedan this is for a mid size which is not the compact it's the size our son had as a Kia Optima and the step up from his is a perfect fit to make this car and he wants to know if Mac wants to turn Lori's into one and it's symbolic and it will be reminding people. And he says no someone will try and do that but then he gets the idea we're doing it and it doesn't mean that so he's gonna look at it and he is frustrated and angry and you keep all the original stuff and if she's moved or comes out you put it back together and he says wow that's good then you can do it to my car now he's interested because this sounds like the stupid idea that might come out and Tommy F actually took the car and he might be sashy and he's Sasha Cohen we think. Who is also infested in the furious no is in the movie Talladega Knights. So we're gonna get going on this and I'm approving it and he wants to help and he wants to send me prototypes using the Kia because he's appreciative of his father and mother and they say we don't want to do it but we might have to. And this car would be awesome. There's no such thing as mcallister racing and there will be he says and people have in mind in memory and think I remember that from somewhere. The name actually came from the TV show with the Coyote X as Judge McAllister and he does point that out and then he's responsible for this kind of thing happening with the serious fast and furious that's a cartoon but it's not really it's cartoonized if you watch it it's very intense. This stuff is very hot and a lot of it is his and he's a giant I am too but not that class you have to understand he's doing it for a reason. Everybody thinks they can steal stuff and you don't end up with anything. I guess it's the thrill of the Chase. This car will be very fast and it'll be fun as hell to try and chase our friend around in it

mac dady

ok ok this is the car and i do grab it and from japan i think.  and it would be trump. and it makes sense now. It's true as hell and it's I was involved in the Volkswagen but that was not the same type of vehicle it's fast but it's not fast it's made to be like a regular coach and the platform that this is on is like the platform that Dave had and it's a little bit beefier and the Kia is a little bit beef here believe it or not it's got a real frame and he was safer in that car than most cars. And it's really stupid because he's gonna look loaded and he has absolutely no money but people probably try and get him money because he looks loaded and that's not the answer the answer is that he is not loaded doesn't have anything and it's the Mac code and they want them to look at people like our friend here and we get it didn't work with the Kia then they put it on the Kia wait that makes sense. They had it ready too

tommy f

and this is fun He says if I establish a track record he's going to have to try and break it and he might try it himself and that would be intense. His father and mother won't let him they say so have BG do it but with his car I can't stand this this is what it's like that guy can really move in its BG it's because he doesn't weigh anything and he'll call him the lightweight all night until he starts arguing and it makes BG feel better believe it or not. This is gonna be fun and he says he wants to do it and he wants Tommy have to get going on it he says he's got the design and it's the one with the funny looking rear end he says no way that's the one people like it's like a fly car and a friend says make it a little shallower cause that's actually a little bit big. Agrees in some angles it looks massively awesome and he's going to go ahead and try and do it but really it's not his car so wondering who his car is and you can see the movie where it comes from and it's from Trump and Tommy F has to take it because he thinks they might have stone chips that are different or know where they are it's going to start up pretty soon it's not the same car as the one he made recently that's the venom this would be different and he's worked on this he says because of his mouth he says that we're his people and stuff and it's actually the first vehicle he gets after all of this crazy stuff and there'd be an agreement and stuff for him to drive it around and the reason why is a little bit obscure and is famous for certain things and all these famous wealthy people know him and John Remallard knows that and if he gets this car they're going to be sticking to him instead of just him getting plucked clean

bg

Olympus

and sit pass it ll by and be a pompus ass. no but ok. and yeh he takes it serously. and it is sasha.  we ddo this. breake sherrys record.  I all of a sudden see what you're saying I break the record of hers sasha will break mine with your car and the Mac Proper will come out and he might break the record before you get it and Tommy F says that's kind of how it went he didn't use it much maybe once or twice and put it back and that's the story and it will make them come out and and we see what happens we think it works.

trump

andyeh the charis lol needs money for tht and i laugh ok the same chairs lol not heavy

...

Olympus

Wow you figured it out but it's out of love and he loves his wife and he wants to be with her and us too with his father and his mother and his best friends and we grew up with him every 2nd of the day. We know how he is he doesn't like these people they're weird and **** you'd like to show them down and to beat them at their own game in the race and to bring the Mac proper up and yeah they have Sasha do the race if someone gets the track record after the one our son to do it and that's how it's done this is great this is greatness OK this works for me. I'm starting to see what he's saying he's gonna be a big man for us and he's gonna do it on purpose and he wants to and is ready to and all these people are very lame but that's good and we have time and we're building.

Thor Freya

and he is fun but man what a tude like trump sings and trumpsings it out of ignorance mostly but  man ok youi shouild seethe readout off the chart. for my people and  up there

macs

we see it

mac daddy

Oympus

[themovieblogonline]

Kizazi Moto: A Firey Blast of Afrofuturism ignites Animation

Have you watched the scorching hot series on Disney+ called Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire? This ain't your average cartoon. Kizazi Moto bursts onto the scene with a vibrant blend of Africanfuturism, stellar animation styles, and dope stories centered around young heroes. We're talking Black Panther vibes meet classic video games, all wrapped up in a future bursting with potential. https://youtu.be/jFBu33_XeUI This first part of our Kizazi Moto feature dives into the first five firecracker episodes, leaving you wanting more. So, grab your favorite space juice and let's blast off! Welcome to Generation Fire: Why It's Hot First things first, the title "Generation Fire" ain't no accident. Every protagonist in these opening stories is a teenager, bringing a fresh perspective and youthful energy to the challenges they face. It's their fire that drives the narrative and ignites our imaginations. The Herderboy: Familiar Yet Fresh The first episode, "The Herderboy," throws us right into the action. Think The Last of Us meets Horizon Zero Dawn, but set in a rural African landscape where futuristic tech coexists with traditional living. The main character, Ndahura, looks like he stepped straight out of a Zelda game, ready to take on some monstrous creatures that wouldn't be out of place in Horizon Zero Dawn. This episode sets the bar high with its cool character designs and a world that begs to be explored further. Where do these creatures come from? Why the mix of tech and rural life? These are mysteries that leave us wanting more. Mkhuzi: The Spirit Racer with Anime Flair Next up is "Mkhuzi: The Spirit Racer," a fun, anime-inspired ride. Our main character, Manzo, has a mysterious alien arm that seems to have a mind of its own. Think Afro Samurai meets The Boondocks with a dash of Crash Bandicoot's Aku Aku mask thrown in for good measure. The animation is a blast from the past, reminding us of that awesome Afro-Japanese fusion style. The story centers on Manzo's desire to protect his mom, the town's defender, in a way that resonates with young men everywhere who feel the responsibility to take care of their families. The ending throws a surprising curveball, leaving us with a smile. Moremi: A Captivating Shadow of the Colossus Style Tale "Moremi" might just be the top dog of these first five episodes. This one tugs at the heartstrings as we meet Luo, a mysterious boy held captive. The whole vibe screams "Shadow of the Colossus" with a talking robot bird named Malimbe acting as Luo's protector and self-proclaimed god. The animation and character designs are top-notch, featuring monstrous robot villains that echo the first episode's mysterious tech theme. Luo has a life-sustaining artifact, but its origin remains a mystery. Just like "The Herderboy," this episode builds a world with so much potential that it feels like a crime to leave it unexplored. There's also a standout scene showcasing Luo's backstory with a slick animation transition reminiscent of Spider-Verse. The bond between Luo and a mysterious scientist is something special, and we'd love to see their story continue. Surf Sangoma: A Darker Dive with Familiar Lessons "Surf Sangoma" takes a more intense turn. Set in a futuristic 2050 Durban, it's a stark departure from the previous rural settings. Think Ready Player One meets Afrofuturism, but with a heavy dose of surfing thrown in. While there's violence, the episode delivers powerful messages about friendship. It also throws in some cool homages to other properties (think whales in the sky that look suspiciously like something out of Star Wars). This episode is darker and more dangerous than the others, but it still manages to be captivating. The story of a friend caught up with the wrong crowd feels familiar, but the setting and designs breathe new life into it. It's a bit creepy, but undeniably good. First Totem Problems: A Hilarious Coming-of-Age Tale The last episode in this batch, "First Totem Problems," takes a sharp turn in animation style. Think The Powerpuff Girls meets The Proud Family, but set in a futuristic African city. We follow Sheba, a young girl on the cusp of adulthood, as she prepares for a coming-of-age ritual. This ritual involves receiving a totem tattoo, a symbol of family pride and a connection to one's future. It's kind of like a futuristic Bah Mitzvah or Quinceañera. The hilarity comes from Sheba's internal struggle as she decides whether to choose her mother's or father's totem. This episode explores the importance of tradition, family expectations, and forging your own path. It's laugh-out-loud funny and has serious potential for a future series. We're left wondering what happens after Sheba chooses her totem, and if her decision will have lasting consequences. Plus, the way this cartoon integrates technology with nature is simply stunning. The character designs are vibrant and unique, with a color palette that pops with pinks and purples. Kizazi Moto: A Must-Watch for Animation Fans Kizazi Moto: Generation Fire is a breath of fresh air in the animation scene. It's a stunning showcase of Africanfuturism, boasting diverse animation styles, captivating stories, and young heroes that inspire. These first five episodes leave you wanting more, with each world begging to be further explored. Whether you're a die-hard animation fan or just looking for something fresh and exciting, Kizazi Moto is a must-watch. Stay tuned for part two of our review, where we'll delve deeper into the show's overall impact and target audience. We'll also discuss the anthology format and how effectively it brings these diverse stories together. Until then, keep your eyes peeled for Kizazi Moto – it's a firestorm you won't want to miss! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBl0l_ZgGiY Read the full article

[1gbag]

Unleash the Fun: Top 5 Android Arcade Games to Play in 2024

Get ready to embark on an exciting adventure as we dive into the world of Android arcade games 2024. Whether you're a fan of action-packed shooters or thrilling racing experiences, these top five games are bound to provide endless entertainment on your Android device. From immersive gameplay mechanics to stunning graphics and captivating storylines, let's explore the must-play games that will surely keep you hooked for hours on end.

"Galaxy Defender" - Genre: Shoot 'em up Google Play Link: Galaxy Defender

Prepare yourself for an intergalactic battle like no other in "Galaxy Defender." As a fearless space pilot, your mission is to protect the galaxy from alien invasions. Engage in intense shoot 'em up gameplay as you navigate through challenging levels, dodging enemy fire and unleashing special abilities. With its stunning graphics and captivating sound effects, this game offers an immersive experience that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

"Turbo Racer" - Genre: Racing Google Play Link: Turbo Racer

Rev up your engines and get ready for adrenaline-pumping races in "Turbo Racer." Take control of high-speed cars and master the art of drift as you compete against AI opponents in a variety of challenging tracks. With its realistic physics and responsive controls, this game delivers a true racing experience. Customize your vehicles, unlock new tracks, and climb the leaderboards in this thrilling arcade racer.

"Pixel Ninja" - Genre: Platformer Google Play Link: Pixel Ninja

Embark on an epic journey as a nimble ninja in "Pixel Ninja." Traverse through beautifully crafted pixelated worlds, battling enemies and overcoming challenging obstacles. With precise controls and fluid animations, this platformer offers a nostalgic gaming experience. Unleash devastating ninja skills, discover hidden secrets, and save your village from the clutches of evil in this captivating adventure.

"Hyper Shooters" - Genre: Shoot 'em up Google Play Link: Hyper Shooters

Prepare yourself for a fast-paced, bullet-hell extravaganza in "Hyper Shooters." Take control of futuristic spacecraft and engage in intense battles against hordes of enemies. With a wide range of upgradable weapons and power-ups, this game offers a dynamic and highly addictive gameplay experience. Dodge enemy projectiles, maneuver through challenging levels, and show off your skills in online leaderboards.

"Super Breakout" - Genre: Classic Arcade Google Play Link: Super Breakout

Relive the nostalgia of classic arcade gaming with "Super Breakout." This timeless game puts a modern twist on the beloved brick-breaking genre. Use a paddle to bounce a ball and break through layers of bricks, collecting power-ups and bonuses along the way. With its intuitive controls and addictive gameplay, "Super Breakout" offers endless hours of fun for players of all ages.

Conclusion: 2024 is shaping up to be an exceptional year for Android arcade games, and the five recommendations above are just a taste of the excitement to come. From the intense shoot 'em up action of "Galaxy Defender" to the nostalgia-inducing gameplay of "Super Breakout," these games offer a diverse range of experiences for every player. So, grab your Android device and immerse yourself in the thrilling world of Android arcade games 2024. Get ready to unleash the fun!

Unveiling the Top 5 Android Adventure Games 2024: Embark on Thrilling Quests!

[joshlincoln]

Masking. Perhaps that was Linc's best talent rather than his abilities on a motorcycle of any kind. The moment she mentioned risk taking the slightest smile ghosted his somewhat dry lips. "Not sure what you mean." To most everyone he saved it for the track or all the dirt around his property and off into the hills, where he rode like a man possessed with torment.

Despite the years he'd put into his modern Robin Hood antics, no one had a single clue who'd done all those robberies. Each bank was too far from Providence Peak to be connected but it seemed not a single soul would suspect the bleached blond who'd made millions would be taking such risks.

Why would he need to rob a bank?

There wasn't a single reason other than to see what he could get away with. The ruffian liked to tempt fate. It never seemed to choose him, no matter what he did, so Linc did anything.

The money was usually given away or stored somewhere safe. What possible rainy day could arise? It was anyone's guess.

And he liked that.

Unknowns weren't scary to him anymore. They might not have ever been given that he had begun making his own way as a teenager.

When they'd first met the racer hadn't forgotten the look on the baker's face. He'd stepped out onto the road without bothering to look each way, and subsequently a vehicle had nearly hit him, and blared their horn in response after their tires had screeched against the pavement. Some explicative were shouted from an opened window, but Linc had carried on without so much as a blink.

Stronger than fear?

Stronger than death?

Despite her questions then and the way she alluded to that past day now, Linc fixated on the ring adorning her pretty finger. It traversed his thoughts to a time his best friend had been engaged to the woman he loved. How that would never come to be now.

"You're unsure?" The racer noted the conflict in her gaze, a faint reaction as her attention went to the circle that bound her to another. "How new?"

The question had taken him by surprise. Did he look like someone anyone would want? There was no chance of a happy ending or settling down. Linc was sure women could smell that on a man. Sense it subconsciously. Of course, some came along thinking he was fixable following the accident that had changed his life, but some things, some people, just couldn't be repaired.

Cerulean eyes followed the baker as she moved to grab some snacks for him. He'd already laid cash out on the counter next to the register. Always cash. Never a card nor a phone with some way to digitally pay.

"Nah. I'm not good for anyone," said the man of few words. Any bit of speech practically had to fight its way out.

"Yeah," he answered for the coffee, "with some cream, please." Cigarette now dangled from his lips. / @verdadurmaz

The spot at the corner of the bakery was a favorite place for a reason. In between the pages of whatever book she'd picked up, she saw the world for what it really was. She saw happiness etched into the features of some, worry and sadness in others, and on occasion, the baker saw things that made her spine tingle with curiosity and made all of the stories she'd ever read seem lackluster by comparison.

A peek at the clock and the oncoming darkness outside of the shop that made the neon open sign shine brighter started the countdown until closing. It was her and one bakery left for the evening, but the slow flow of foot traffic meant that soon enough, it would only be her.

She had only just reached for her phone when the welcoming chimes of the door sounded and her head lifted to take in a tattooed blonde. "Depends. Are you in a risk taking mood today?"

Verda pushed herself up from the counter's embrace, her gaze fixated the man she had watched confidently walk across the street while a green light welcomed traffic to flow freely. Her heart had nearly clawed it's way out of her chest when one had all but clipped him.

A part of her had admired that boldness and another had been terrified of it. She had watched a lot of things from her window, but seeing him be painted onto the pavement wasn't something she ever wanted to experience.

The baker followed his gaze and lifted her left hand, fingers doing a dance as if he hadn't already noticed the ring. "It's new. Kind of." Things still felt new and uncertain in a way, a fact she blamed on getting married on a whim. It was difficult to hold any kind of anger towards him when his mouth curved upwards, even only for a few short seconds at a time.

"What about you? Tempted fate lately?" She sidestepped towards the glass display case, dipping out a few different items before pausing to look over him once more. It was good to see him again, even if that shame darkness clung to him like a shadow.

She didn't know him, not really, but she wanted to. "Coffee?"

@joshlincoln