#leep year

[blondebrainpowered]

Heart-shaped flask made of tortoiseshell, with Iberian mounts. Gujarat, India, 1580 

Tortoiseshell from the Hawksbill turtle (eremochlys imbricate), silver

"The hawksbill sea turtle (Eretmochelys imbricata) is a critically endangered sea turtle belonging to the family Cheloniidae. It is the only extant species in the genus Eretmochelys. The species has a global distribution that is largely limited to tropical and subtropical marine and estuary ecosystems." Wikipedia

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

its 5:50am in the morning I can't sleep for two reaaons

1) i have a terrible ache in my abdomen

2)

SHSHELRLHLKGOFKTKHLLGLELHLHOFOEOROKGDHDJDJJRHDJSJEJENEEBR💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥SIR. SIRR SUIRRRRRR SIR DAMN SIR SIR EHAT DID THEY DO YMTOYOU ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[mercuryislove]

the fun but also frustrating thing about reading three entire years of my writing back to back to back is that I see a lot of stuff that makes me go HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT so so so so often

[mvnces]

speaking of silas the dog b/oy ! do you guys ever think about how painful it would be to be stuck in between wolf & human? and going through full moons like that? 🙂

[suck-my-figurative-dick]

Saw fanart of a real life band from decades ago that is just so very removed from the band itself and I always think like at that point rename them and make ocs like bro what do you mean vocoloid gender bent modern au ma’am, those are your own fictional characters at this point

[meirimerens]

do you happen to have any headcanons about pascal curious and nervous subject? or any other sims 2 character for that matter :p

you get answered with anon from like yesterday #oops i had stuff on my plate teehee but Yes.

the nervous subject:

as far as nervous' #deal is i like to go with the Sims 2 For PSP lore that he willingly (or "willingly" - in quotes to express the murkiness of willingness when you're broke as shit) went in with the Beakers because he needed coin. in my head, like many kids who age out of the foster care system, he found himself age 18 not really having anywhere to go (no contact with the family during his stay in foster care), not really having had the best environment to learn any skill, he tells himself well fml 🤷‍♂️ might as well.

related to his 10 active point i think he's strong as shit. does not look like it (macdonalds_napkin_flying_out_of_window.txt). also very endurant - not necessarily fast, but his ass would smoke everyone in a long-distance run because he can just keep going. this is Not A Great Thing in his current #predicament because that just means he recuperates pretty fast from the experiments and so they just keep happening with little downtime.

bruises easily. and a lot because his prioperception is kind of fried so he's got always a blue spot somewhere.

i've #made #him in my ts4 game with a crooked nose and nose scar (which i draw, the crookedness of the nose translates a bit less since i'm always drawing his ass three-quartered) and those i think he got in foster care. even if he exists with 0 nice point i think that's an Experiment thing, he is not truly a Dipshit, but he's very early become quite rowdy. got into a tussle. got his nose broken. "you should see the other guy". this is also very funny to me because one of my OC has that same broken nose+scar deal

on the topic of My OC Has This in my mind's eye he's got tha Y-shaped autopsy scar. hector I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow [scars like the weird lesbians of my mind] did not really die, still has it. he understands that's probably a Scary thing for people to see + his ass doesn nawwwt want to deal with the question so when his best fwiend and his two Unsuspecting brothers try to get him to join for a relaxing heatwave afternoon in the strangetown pool he's like "i don't want to take my shirt off [THINKS FAST] because i'm insecure about being bony" and they're like "that's fine man no pressure 👍" [clueless]

le pascal curieux:

on one hand the phrase "gayscal bicurious" i had in the tags of my art once makes me hysterical and i genuinely leep fucking repeating it out loud to myself so often. devilish echolalic sound. on the other it is genuinely funny to me to imagine him realizing years later "why the fuck do i have beef with this guy over his gf i don't even like women 😐😐😐😐🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️". he keeps the beef though makes him feel alive #hatermindset #scorpio

after nervous told him "i have some... weird... living arrangement... and my roommates don't like to hear me play music out loud" pascal started putting songs he thinks nervous would like on an mp3 player. nervous gives it back to him every once in a while and update him on his taste so pascal can add more songs next time they see each other.

now not to get too deep into the politics of the sims franchise's mpreg. a pregnancy narrative hates to see me coming. but in my head... while he's a loving father and is protective and kind and genuinely obsessed with his kid once they're born & tutti quanti towards his little scrunkly... i think he lived the pregnancy pretty Lukewarmly. he knew that it Could happen, but well. the household description does mention "[getting] more than they were "expecting."". i think until halfway there he was like 😬 and then the Weird Scientist Brain kicked in and he was like "this is an Experience". pascal curious I Would Like To Award You the Highest Honor I Can Bestow. Post-Partum Depression (jesting. unless?)

not new of a headcanon because i've drawn it so it's probably obvious I think he's the shortest of the brothers and a Reliable Resident of Stockytown #shawty

bringing together Buddy Erwin Lore and "In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis" i know the inhabitants of strangerville hate to see him hang out by erwin's Listening Station and psychoanalyzing every word that comes out of the mouth of the people he's bugged #nosy

erwin detour because i have this to say:

he drives a two-toned (orange and white) 1980 chevy k30 crew cab. a beat-up thing that he loves so muchhhh. looks like this (but imagine Oinge and not tan/camel)

speaking of cars i have something for Lazlo:

drives a 1986-1988 buick riviera. a purble one. exactly. i see it for him for the little screen inside #vintage #slay

stoner. with peace and love and zero derogatory tone. he feels it makes him think. it does. tbh i see the three dabbling. you're telling me vidcund has this beautiful greenhouse and they don't grow cannabis in there? you know that post that's like. my homie was making edibles and discovered passion for baking now he's a baker. this did not happen to lazlo he knew how to cook and bake completely independantly. but it helps. they let nervous smoke with them and they see him blink normally for the first time.

Ophelia Nigmos my shayla....

she has a Motorola RAZR V3 for phone. it is DECKED to the heavens with stickers and stick-on gems and phone charms

2004 is prime and i mean primeeee pop-punk/emo era (hence why she looks #likethat tbh) and she's deeeep in that. like Simple Plan's "I'm Just A Kid" came out 2002 and i knowwww she's having that shit on LOOP on her mp3 player. due to the fact that She's Just A Kid And Her Life Is A Nightmare

the bloggerrrr i know she is blogging. idk what strangetown could have as a mirror to the 2000s-2010s french "Skyblog" [les vrais connaissent tmtc] but girl... is.... BLOGGING!!!! either a Livejournal or a Blogger.

i just realized how long this poast was #oops but Basically Yes.

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Always been yours

Kitten Braden x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, friends to lovers, girl dick!

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

Kitten and yn had been best friends for as long as they could both remember. They had met when they were both in sawing class and had instantly clicked. Growing up they were inseparable, sharing everything with each other from their deepest secrets to their biggest dreams. They spent countless hours together having fashion shows, having fun and just enjoying each others company away from a disapproving society a safe space for them both. And for years, this is the only way that Kitten and Yn saw each other.

As friends.

That all changed when Kitten and Yn went to a club. They had both just turned 18, and they were ready to celebrate. They spent the evening having fun, dancing and drinking. A slower song began to play.

"May I have this dance Kitten?" Yn asked .

"Of course, Yn."

Yn and Kitten held each other close and began to sway to the music. As they danced, Kitten took a leep of faith and kissed yn catching her by surprise. Yn paused and stared at Kitten for a moment in shock. Then, she smiled and leaned in to kiss Kitten again. They continued dancing, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

"We should go home," yn whispered into kittens ear.

"Okay," Kitten agreed as they kissed again.

The girls quickly left the club and hailed a cab.

The moment they got into their shared flat, they crashed together.

Yn's hands quickly undid Kitten's pants and pulled them down to her ankles. Her panties were next. Yn pushed kittens knees apart and started to lick her hard cock. Kitten moaned and arched her back off the bed, reaching down to grab a handful of Yns hair. Yns tongue swirled around the head of Kittens cock, sending pleasure through her body. She moaned and her grip got harder on Yns hair. "Cum for me, Kitten." yn commanded. Kitten let out a loud moan and shot a rope of cum straight into Yns mouth. yn licked it all up eagerly. They quickly switched roles, with yn getting on her knees and Kitten sucking on her clit . Yn moaned and grabbed kittens hair, her knees starting to shake. She knew that she was close. She leaned back and rode Kittens face to orgasm. "Fuck Kitten" yn moaned. Cum squirted onto Kittens face. Kittens tongue lapped it up eagerly.

"Want you inside Kitten" yn whined

"Fuck I want that too love" Kitten moaned.

Kitten flipped yn onto her stomach , and slipped her dick inside of her pussy. They moaned in unison as Kitten thrust deep. Kittens hips pounded against yns ass. The pace quickened, they were getting close. "I'm gonna cum" Kitten whined

"I'm gonna cum too love" yn moaned back

Kitten thrust once more and felt herself cum. Kitten felt yn's pussy clench around her. Her legs started to shake as she was about to cum, yn grabbed kittens breasts and played with them while Kitten moaned and continued to fuck her brains out. "Oh god, I'm cumming. Harder Kitten."

Kitten obliged and thrusted even harder until she felt yn's orgasm take over. "Fuck, that felt amazing" yn panted "Same, I've been dreaming about that" kitten laughed. "I love you yn" "I love you too Kitten" yn said as they hugged. "Will you be my girlfriend love?" Kitten asked uncharacteristically shy.

"Kitten I've always been yours"

They kissed passionately then they drifted to sleep in each others arms. For the first time, they weren't sleeping in their usual separate beds, but in Kittens bed.

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

An: I love Kitten so much! Please send in requests for her!

[adventuresasmrsfindley]

TGIF! What a week it's been. This may be a TMI post but we're all friends here right? 😅

I went in for the colposcopy (reminder, this is for the cervix, not a colonoscopy) on Wednesday. My PCP said this was precautionary but I was still pretty nervous for the procedure. Imagine my shock when the OBGYN was talking to me before and said the cells they found were more on the side of concerning and this was an "absolutely need to do further testing" scenario. Not just "let's be extra cautious". I completely broke down in that poor woman's exam room. After coming off the breast scare, her throwing around the word cancer again was too much for me. I cried for a good 10 mins while she talked me through everything. I explained what had been going on recently and apologized for being such a mess. She totally understood and was great considering this was the first time we met lol. Anyways, she said that she definitely wanted to do biopsies which I was hoping wouldn't be needed but I trusted her judgement and let her proceed with the procedure. She took 3 total, and it was definitely not a pleasant experience. The last one sucked the worst. I took ibuprofen before the appointment just in case and I'm glad I did. Luckily it was over pretty quick but I had quite a bit of bleeding (duh - she basically hole punched my cervix 3 times) so she had to use extra of the solution that is supposed to stop the bleeding and lemme tell you. It's gross. It looks like coffee grounds coming out and I'm still dealing with it 2 days later. I was pretty sore the night of but haven't had much pain after that. It's more just annoying. It's also annoying because she said the results take about a week. If they come back a level 1 or lower we will just continue to monitor with yearly paps, but if they are higher than that she is going to recommend a LEEP. You can Google that if you want to know what I'm in for 🙃 all the research I did before said most places do it in the office but she said they are not equipped for that and it would be done in an outpatient surgery room and I would be put under general anesthesia. I am hoping soooo hard that my results come back good but a week is a long time to wait!!! I am so over this year.

On top of that, I found out I'm going to be traveling to CA multiple times this summer for work. I knew one trip was very likely but was not prepared for probably having to go once a month. It's going to be a great career opportunity so I'm not going to pass it up but I am not stoked about being away from my guys so much. I'm not in a great place with my MIL either right now and she's the best equipped to help us out while I'm gone because she's retired. So we will see how that plays out...

It's a lot going on right now. I just really need some good news back from the doctor and then I feel like I can fully focus on getting our summer planned and setting us up for success since things are going to get pretty crazy I'm sure.

[aduckinpain]

Grief still knows my number

Tags: Character study style writing, heavily implied Lestappen, Symbolism, Hurt/comfort, Happy Ending, Very focused on dealing with Grief, Charles Leclerc centered, Charles Leclerc Analysis throughout the years, All the radios and quotes that people use to describe Charles are accurate

Word Count: 2.8k

This is also on AO3 by roianamustang (me).

Hardships and life go hand in hand. Walk side by side. Fall into step with each other. Bleed together. Sigh deeply. Rinse and repeat.

Time and healing go hand in hand. Presumably anyways, according to everyone. While the years have allowed the blood to gradually crystalize, Charles Leclerc doesn't think the wound will ever stop dripping on his pristine wooden floor.

Success, achievements, wins. All these things fly with glory. Trigger adrenaline. The blood pumps, moves. Colors seem brighter, voices seem simultaneously louder and quieter, blending in with the murmur of the wind, of the cheers. The heart doesn't stop, doesn't take a break. It keeps on going and going and going. If any tiredness is supposed to be felt, it seems non-existent at that moment. The trophy is cool, blending with the heat of his hands. The light reflects on the champagne bottle. The crowd roars, so does he. 

Man has never felt more godly than when he's soaked in red with the cape of history and legacy flowing down his back. Never felt more untouchable than when he's deemed irreplaceable. A hero from a legend coming straight to life. 

The highs reach the moon. 

So the lows reach the Earth's core. Bright, yet hot enough to incinerate, evaporate.

People die and the world doesn't bat an eye. Life keeps moving and time keeps flowing. But its core weeps molten metal, scalding. Dripping furiously, wondering, screaming. It seems so loud, yet no one notices. Why don’t they see it? Why don’t they understand? 

Every June, his phone rings. Echoes in the walls of his expensive apartment. No matter how much he pays, it soaks itself in the crevices between the tiles. Makes sure it follows him. Hangs heavy in his pockets, in his rooms.

The heart has four chambers, each one of Charles’ overflowing.

Every July, Charles hangs his heart, lets it air out in the Monaco air, near the sea. It never fully dries. It drips and drips and drips.

In 2014, F3 welcomed him with open arms, the sun shined bright and his career seemed to be soaring. The future clear.

On October 4th 2014, the present halted. It stopped. His heart dropped, yet it deafened his ears. Hands shaking and eyes unmoving, he heard the gasp of his maman next to him. From the corner of his eye he could see his papa get up and call someone in a fervor. He felt hands on his face and the panicked, yet soft voice of his mother. Everything blurred. 

Turned dark.

Blank.

He doesn’t remember much afterwards.

On July 17th 2015, Charles Leclerc’s phone rang at 4:03 AM. Jules Bianchi called him on a Wednesday’s waking hour for the last time. The sea was bursting in his room through every opening, every window. 

Jules was finally resting.

Charles couldn't wake up from this nightmare.

His heart swelled. The rush of liquid in its chambers sudden. Wrong. The first thing to fill up were the ventricles, allowing them to hang heavy at the bottom. Slowly over the years, with every drip, every leak, the atriums expanded with the never ending grief.

2017 was his year of change. F2 had kicked off with a grand slam and he kept racking up the points. One after the other, after a long and difficult time, Charles’ future seemed set. His road to F1 perfected already.

He wanted more. He couldn't wait to have it. He'd jump, leep, crouch and slide to achieve what he wanted, what he deserved.

He'd honor Jules, he'd make Papa proud.

He’d bleed red. Get submerged in. Breathe till the bubbles escaped his lungs to reach for the sky.

The high of Monaco still lingered on his skin. In the month in between he'd been counting down the days. Training, sleeping, hoping.

20 days left.

10 days left.

9 days, then 8.

7, then 6.

5, then 4.

Halt.

Stop.

Just stop.

Not again. It's too much.

No.

Not again. Not now. Why now? 

No.

The 21st of June’s sun peaked its rays on the cloudy sky, Hervé Leclerc’s eyes slipped shut and Charles Leclerc met his breaking point.

The quiet before the storm, then a boom was heard.

A sudden calm and then a supernova.

His phone rang on the 25th of June.

‘He’d lost his father earlier in the week. We’re talking literally 48 hours later, he was in the car. He then went out, fell to last place, fought his way through and won the race. This was a kid who’d just lost his father and he was a kid at the time, a teenager. To have that kind of mental strength, I’ve never seen anything like it.’

Charles Leclerc won the 2017 F2 Baku Grand Prix.

Charles and Hervé dreamed a lot together. He remembers the race nights, the Grand Prix, the atmosphere, the wins. The drivers and their celebrations, their fireproofs and livery. The success, the wins, the championships, the legacy, the weight.

They remembered the red.

They looked up to the red.

They dreamed of it.

Laid down their lives for a chance to look at it in the eye.

So he lied.

His father on his deathbed, sick and weak, still held that spark in his last words. That smile, that used to be his comfort, now lingered with a looming feeling of dread. Of knowing what's happening. 

So he lied.

And take him back in that moment right now, he would still lie.

With his own reassuring smile, Charles Leclerc looked at his dying father and told him Scuderia Ferrari signed him into F1. The horse pranced and jumped and bled Charles Leclerc, as much as his own family had bled for it.

So he lied.

And his father died happy.

His heart filled to the brim. Charles could almost sympathize with the weight of the horse on his back.

Soon enough it'd be his.

Soon enough he would be the horse.

Fury seeped from every pore, screeched in his head, escaped his lungs.

Everything he wanted was taken too early.

Not this.

He wouldn't allow this.

‘It’s very unusual for Ferrari to choose a young driver. But after a decade with no championship success, perhaps trying something a little bit different is going to reap its rewards.’

A year into F1, it became reality.

The wind howled, his heart soared. It dumped its contents on the ground. Blood red leaking down, slowly spilling over each step, each stair. He should be jumping in joy, flying through the sky. Climbing.

So why?

Why was it heavy?

He looked up hoping to see the Sun, catching glimpses of it in between the clouds.

He plunged.

Eyes wide open. Hand holding onto a hoof. Hearing the echoes of its neigh.

His phone rang. 

The sound made him pick up his head. Hazy, confused, he looked at the called ID. 

Papa <3

Charles Leclerc was drowning in molten gold. 

He didn’t swim.

He declined.

‘What Charles is doing is a continuation of Jules’ legacy. Charles has a mission. A mission to do what Jules should have done.’

It was never meant to be his seat. 

At least not like this.

He doesn’t know, if on that fateful day in Suzuka, rain hadn't been falling, a crash hadn’t happened, a life wasn’t lost, would he still be here? In this seat? 

Who was bleeding more red? Him, his father or Jules?

Can dead men bleed?

Are his achievements his own?

At the end of the day, the past has happened. Its consequences reaped.

Charles can’t revive the dead, but he can honor them.

In his second year in F1, Charles Leclerc became a Ferrari driver.

In his first year in Ferrari, Charles’ teammate was a 4 time world champion.

In his second year in F1 and first in Ferrari, Charles Leclerc won in Spa.

Anthoine Hubert lost his life a few hours before. A crash and a boom. A win and a trophy. 

Death is imminent. It favors none and follows all. 

And yet, Charles Leclerc at the age of 22, feels its shadow linger near. Never close enough to him, no. 

It lingers right there, on the podium, in the trophy, in his anthem, in his legacy.

It gazes, but never touches.

Some days he wished it did.

After all, no one can truly best the perfection of the dead.

‘You can see the celebrations starting. He’s got one more corner, the famous Parabolica to go. Mercedes threw everything at him today. Charles Leclerc has coped brilliantly! 

He won in Spa! He wins in Monza! 

Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2019 Italian Grand Prix!’

Monza is another type of beast. It’s godly. It paves the way for anyone, but it spreads the ocean for scarlet.

The confetti falls gently. Lewis Hamilton bathes him in champagne.

He points at the sky. He points at his suit. He looks above. 

He sees the Sun.

He shakes his head, laughs in disbelief. Wipes his eyes.

Charles Leclerc wins.

‘On this Sunday afternoon, the Tifosis celebrate, what an epic race—’

Charles got so preoccupied with red he forgot about blue. Dark, mysterious, never ending blue. 

Always there. Never far.

This cloud of rain that followed him around, dripping on the track.

Drip, drip, drip.

A puddle was created.

He pushed blue.

Disqualified the both of them.

He doesn’t regret anything. If he’s not winning, no one is.

Austria 2019 was a blur of purple. A blur of hate. 

His blood was pumping. Pupils dilating. Eyebrows furrowed. 

The PR training didn't matter in that moment.

Charles Leclerc doesn’t just lose.

He opened Instagram’s purple icon, went to his followings.

Typed in ‘Max Verstappen’.

Pressed the button, made it turn blue again.

2020 comes and goes. The quarantine unfamiliar. Unknown. More people gain shadows, and there’s an inkling at the back of his mind that his might finally touch him.

But there’s no time.

He can’t wait and waste his time with things like fear.

Every win, every overtake is not his alone.

So Charles holds his breath and anticipates.

The sky sees. The clouds look back. His phone charges.

He’ll admit, while he doesn’t think he will ever have a teammate which he wouldn't deem his rival, Sebastian Vettel would always be a special case. Would always hold a special place in his pool of a heart.

So it hurt.

It wasn’t Seb’s fault at all. For the first time in his life, Charles Leclerc felt something else towards the prancing horse.

Admiration and hopes were temporarily hidden behind confusion and hurt.

This time the shadow didn’t touch or tap or even come closer.

So why was he alone again?

Why was he leaving?

Please don’t leave!

Don’t leave.

A ring cut through the silence.

He declined.

Charles knows hurt and sadness, anxiety and fear. But that’s too many things to account for, he can't be writing them all in his notebook. Seb wouldn't.

So he writes a piece of paper with ink, doesn't let it dry, crumbles it and puts it in a little red box. A label lays on it.

Rage.

2021 happened, that’s for sure. 

Shit car, shit luck, shit strategy, shit Charles.

Oh, and a new teammate.

A win stolen.

But it’s ok. It’s fine.

Patience is something he has learned the hard way, honed it to be his comrade.

Silenced, his phone’s screen flashed at 5:58 AM.

He ignored.

2022 is here and so is Charles.

Bahrain. A dream on the precipice of flowing over the rim of the glass.

He won.

He won!

The season had started off on a good note.

In a good car.

It was now on his shoulders to bear the expectations. Not just of others and his own, but also the expectations of the dead and their wishes.

Hope is a scary, scary thing. 

It runs along with failure and when you least expect it, it catches its arm while it plummets in the abyss.

Drags it along, one drag at a time.

Saudi Arabia was a close call, but the clouds overtook him.

That’s ok.

He’s just starting.

He’s got what it takes. He knows he does.

So, for the hundredth time, why?

Goddamnit, why?

Every time. Every time he lets himself want.

This happens.

Charles Leclerc wins in Australia.

Charles Leclerc loses in Imola.

Loses in Miami.

Loses in Spain.

Loses in Monaco.

Loses and loses and loses.

But he’s always been special to Austria.

And Austria seems like it wants to be special to him.

He’s always got a knack for the raging bull. Specifically the blue one.

He crosses the finish line and Charles Leclerc smiles. Eyes squinting in the face of the screams. Cheeks pulling upwards. He runs to that podium.

Charles Leclerc grins at the cloud, at the sky.

The cloud pours and Charles Leclerc laughs.

Turns around, shakes his head and looks at it in the eye. His one constant. Grief can't touch the fastest after all.

There is hope.

It was blatantly obvious after a few more races, that Ferrari had no clear vision on how to improve its car.

So he lost.

He had the championship cup in his hands, and it slipped through its fingers. Rolling away on a slope. 

So he lost.

He got second, but second was never what he aimed for.

This time, when his phone rang, Charles Leclerc anticipated it.

A thunk was heard. A crack was felt.

Whether it was his phone screen or his heart, Charles didn’t know.

He broke.

He doesn’t know if it will ever get better or heal. Everyone tells him scars heal with time, yet his is infected.

He can’t do this. Can’t hold this weight.

Why does he still call?

Why?

Grief still knows my number, and I don’t have the heart to block it.

2023 rolled around and there was nothing he could do about it.

There was nothing Ferrari could do about the absolute hindrance of a car that they had created. 

A tractor would’ve at least given him more consistency.

It was out of his hands, but maybe he never had it in the first place. 

His heart had been hanging out to dry for a while, yet the humidity kept it aching.

So for the first time in his career, summer break rolled around and Charles Leclerc breathed. 

The shadow has retreated.

So with that in mind, you could see how it was a pleasant surprise.

Pole positions, podiums. No wins yet, but the Sun was shining, the Earth rotating and its core waking up from its slumber with slow, but assured movements.

Mattia Binotto out.

Fred Vasseur is in. 

Finally for the first time in years, Charles felt the warm embrace of a calm figure in his life, who understood his struggles. 

Finally for the first time in years, Charles Leclerc was first. Not in the championship standings, in his own.

The dead may be honored, but they are gone. They can be remembered.

The living are here. They can’t be put to wait in line, life doesn’t wait for people to catch up.

His blood is rushing, his lungs expanding, eyelids blinking, thoughts running. 

He’s alive. He’s here. He’s important.

Charles Leclerc races in Las Vegas for himself. He fights for himself. He forgives for himself.

Max races after him to apologize but Charles has already moved on. He doesn’t hold grudges anymore. 

He wraps his arm around the cloud and reassures. He smiles, eyes sparkling in the Vegas lights. Blue meets green.

He remembers and looks at the sky. His heart returned in his chest, no longer in the hands of mother nature’s fickle decisions.

Charles Leclerc makes his own decisions. 

After Abu Dhabi, his phone rings again.

In the first time in 6 years, he answers.

It’s quiet for a while.

The number you are trying to contact is inactive. Please try again.

At least he tried.

A ping was heard. A message arrived.

Papa <3

impr0ud

He remembers the adrenaline, the confusion. He froze for a moment, but recovered quickly.

He replies. 

Papa? Are you there?

Unseen, unanswered. 

And yet, he’s content. 

He sleeps and dreams, and legacies don’t plague him.

He sleeps and he wakes up the next day, calls his maman.

“Hey maman. How’ve you been?”

Charles Leclerc is familiar with Grief’s number, as much as he’s familiar with his own. 

2023 ends. But he’s just getting started.

The winter break came and went in the blink of an eye.

Contract extensions, announcement dates, livery showcasings and more.

Air enters his lungs and he lets himself feel.

5 wins this year, that’s the goal for now.

A small step backwards for a giant leap forwards. 

Charles Leclerc is ready, has always been.

Rage in one hand and pride in the other, he steps forwards.

Blue on his side, as was meant to be. Blue meets green, understanding in between.

The crown on his head high and bright, and well deserved. His accomplishments and wins.

The cape down his back is theirs. He’ll let them have this.

After all, the championship will be his.

‘Charles Leclerc. Prince of Ferrari. King of Monza. Legacy of Monaco. What a star of the future! Celebrating wildly in the present!’

-End-

Please note that no matter how much I am writing here, it is all artistic speculation of what Charles himself has decided to show the world. Do not forget that these drivers are real people.

All of the italicized sentences that start and end with ' ' are actual words said for Charles, either by Netflix, Will Buxton, Crofty or other documentaries.

The phone ringing from a person that has already passed away, has happened to me and my mom. So it directly inspired me.

Time for some clarification of my analysis:

The wound is grief showing its head at the very start of this.

The cape is Ferrari obviously.

The Earth's core and its molten metal is always Charles himself.

Every correlation with a phone/phone call is Herve's, except the specific Jules one.

Every time the heart is mentioned it mostly means Jules grief.

The ventricles are the two lower chambers of the heart, which in this case filled up first, which is why it weighed him down.

The atriums are the two upper chambers, which are slowly overflowing.

Herve died exactly 4 days before his F2 Baku race, that is why the time stops at 4.

Red is Ferrari.

He holds onto the hoof and hear a neigh. This is Ferrari's prancing horse.

The Sun is hope, the unachievable.

The clouds and the color blue are always Max Verstappen, including the blue raging bull.

The sky are both Jules and Herve.

The shadow is always death in every mention.

Purple is the conflict and the brief pushing from Max on Austria. It shows an intriguing way of which even when they are fighting they are always in sync.

The notebook is the habit he picked up from Sebastian.

His one constant in life that will never leave is Max Verstappen. He calls him the fastest despite not knowing how the results of the 2023 season.

The message for anyone temporarily confused says: I'm proud. Its more of a sign that Charles has finally started racing for himself, has let go of some of the self-afflicted responsibility to hold the dead's wishes.

Every blue colored things is Max Verstappen.

Every red colored thing is the intense feeling that Ferrari gives him, every win makes him soar, but every loss digs him deep.

The title of this work is inspired by someone on social media showing their own experience of old phone numbers calling.

No one can best the perfection of the dead is a quote from Aya, in Bungou Stray Dogs season 5, which I thought was exactly what this fic needed.

Thank you so much for reading! It would mean a lot if I managed to get some reposts, comments or likes!

If you like this, I have written more stories that can be found on my Formula 1 masterlist. Including: Lestappen, Landoscar with more to come. If it manages to spark your interest, please go support those as well!

[localnerd]

It strikes me that literally no one on this site knows about any of my head cannons and any ships I have about THSC, even though I mostly post about THSC, so here's me yapping about them.

Uhh there is a lot of text and reading to do here, if you don't feel like that, don't click "read more"

So, I'll start with headcannons first. Specifically:

Family Relationships:

-Henry is adopted and his adoptive parents are 2 gay dads (both of which, are dead).

-Ellie has 2 brothers and is a middle child. One of her brothers are dead, and she doesn't know where the other one is right now.

-Galeforce is NOT infact Charles' dad, but Charles does see him as a father figure.

-Reginald was born into the clan.

-RHM was put up for adoption as soon as he was born, but no one ever adopted him.

-Sven is Earrings' younger brother.

-Burt and his older brother Grew up with their Aunt because their dad and mom both died around the time he was born.

-Carol is Rupert's younger sister.

-Dave is fatherless.

-Grigori is Dmitri's younger half brother. Dmitri's parents divorced and Dmitri lived with his dad and stepmom.

-Henry, Reginald, RHM, and Dave are all only children.

Next up:

Character Sexualitys And Genders:

-Henry is Pan and a Demi boy (He/They)

-Ellie is a Straight Ally

-Charles is also a Straight Ally

-Galeforce is Straight. He is an ally, but he has no fucking clue what it is.

-Rupert is Asexual, and is CisHet.

-Reginald is Gay. He did think he was Non-Binary a few years ago, but he is Cis.

-RHM is Bisexual with a preference towards men. Also cis.

-Sven is Pan and is Cis

-Burt is AroAce and is also cis.

-Earrings is Hetero, but is gender fluid.

-Carol is Bisexual, but doesn't have a preference.

-Dave is questioning his sexuality and gender, but he does think he is Gay.

-Dmitri is CisHet and homophobic. (Old fucker)

-Grigori is also CisHet, but he really doesn't care what you are. He won't support you per say, but he will respect you.

Other Headcannons:

-Henry cannot control timelines, and is unaware that there may be other versions of himself. He just thinks he is very lucky in just about every timeline and universe he is in.

-Galeforce has considered firing Charles for reckless endangerment for ramming his helicopter everywhere.

-Reginald is a Vocaloid fan, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. He also has no fucking clue what the Japanese lyrics mean, and he doesn't care enough to look it up.

-Reginald has heterochromia.

-Reginald was born on 2/29 (or a leep year).

-No one knows RHM's name because he doesn't fucking have one and he is too embarrassed to admit it.

-Sven is a bit of a People Pleaser.

-RHM can freely change the color of his cybernetics, but he doesn't because people who pay too much attention to detail would freak out and think he was rewired. And because he just prefers red.

-RHM is fluent in Japanese.

-RHM has heard Reginald playing Vocaloid music whilst doing his paperwork. He has not told Reginald what the lyrics mean.

-Burt does need glasses and does have a pair of them, but he doesn't like wearing them (even if it means he can't fucking see).

-Terrance wasn't "Evil" per say, just an awful leader who didn't really know what to do 9 times out of 10.

And now we move into ships!

Like I said in my intro post, I don't really like posting about ships that often. I say it's because I don't have many, but in all honesty, it's because I'm a bit uncomfortable with drawing those kinds of things, and because i'd feel weird if I tried posting about them. I am a multishiper, and I am a rare pair fan so most, if not all of my ships are going to be more like god awful hot takes.

Ships:

-CopperRight (Reginald X RHM)

-CopperMin (Reginald X Henry)

-Reginald X RHM X Henry (No clue what the ship name is)

-RoseVin/CalRose (Ellie X Charles)

-SvenMin/StickSon (Sven X Henry)

-PanSon (Sven X Dave)

Uhhhh, I think that's about it. If I remember anything later on, I'll add it in.

If you read through all of this, you are super cool! Here's a gold star!

[cakemoney]

completely separate from anything that's going on (for real, not being sarcastic), there exists an AU in my mind where after the events of the first season, jammer does still drop out of gowpenny and go back to his normal high school, but like six months later very soon after graduation evan shows up at his door like "k and i broke up 🥺" and then stays with jammer for a while, helping around the house, playing basketball with jammer's friends (jammer is like guys be cool. and the guys accept him cause evan is so tall and his arms are so long he's fun to practice against). sam and jammer do video calls all the time and k and sam are roommates in london so during the calls evan and k would both be like tentatively poking their heads into line of sight from the screen and then run away and hide but not before sam can go "hi evan!! how are you!!" loud enough for k to hear in the other room (and vice versa). evan gets a normal gas station job still and goes to all of jammer's games with appropriate team merch on top of his black outfits and helps babysit jammer's sisters. when sam gets her bbc show evan and jammer watch every episode together on evan's lumpy couch in the apartment that evan gets near jammer's school where jammer can visit him often and just decompress away from leadership roles. evan also goes help out with LEEP where the kids asked once (1) why he doesn't have a shadow and evan said he lost it at the magic school and now all the kids are like omg the british magic school steals people's shadows D: and jammer's family is like omg... we're so glad you left before your shadow got eaten... and jammer is like you know what, let's just let them think that. it's fine. k lets teddy go on sam's show along with t2 and teddy loves it and any time he sings in a musical episode the clips go so viral (and also it leads everyone to believe that t2 stands for teddy 2). and also throughout all of this, k and evan literally still play fortnite together every week, and sometimes they'd even do voicechat and just talk about what's up, or more often k will be like rubberducking some programming stuff going on with itsy and evan will just make sounds to indicate he's listening while having no clue what any of the words mean; sometimes jammer will also join but he generally respects that this is k and evan's ritual. three years after graduation, sam and k do a trip to visit evan and jammer, surprise jammer in the stands at one of his games, and then they all hang out like no time has passed at all; k and evan hug like they're friends, because they are.

I don't have any particular point I'm trying to make or reach or whatever, i just like to envision a version of events where these kids were there to support each other as they moved into adulthood. because growing up is so lonely man. goat house forever

[phopollo]

💃 for Gummi, 💀fo Leep, 🎄for Claret (multiple submissions so you have options!)

Gummi would have loved the 90s

The 90s would have loved Gummi

I also went ahead and did the Claret one too, because she's so silly and I dont think I've introduced Tumblr to her yet

Included the Christmas wrapping paper pajama pants too, because I can

Outfit that will probably reappear in December /lh

Which oh hey, btw, for anyone else seeing this, if you think these guys are silly and delightful, just so you know, Gummi and Claret are both up on Art Fight this year, if that's of any interest to anyone ✌️✌️

Oh yeah, hey, here's the prompt list too

[horsegurlfem]

somehow we got onto the topic of surgery on the genital area in my house, and I said that I wouldn't want surgery on my clitoris because it would damage crucial nerve endings. Which was a pretty mild take I thought, but my tim housemate said that because labiaplasty exists, they've already figured the nerve endings out down there and surgery wouldn't hurt them. And I just felt bad, because that's so not true. So many procedures, even medical ones like LEEP can sever nerve endings and make it hard for you to experience the same physical pleasures afterwards. This is less true for men, because doctors apparently care about keeping penis nerves intact. Men's pleasure is important, but for women, all that's important is how we look to men apparently. But people who have had bottom surgery/ SRS have had sooo many complications where they're unable to feel pleasure anymore, and I hate that people see it as a normal simple procedure. As if elective surgery on the most intimate part of your body could ever be simple and risk free. Idk if this person has had such surgery or not, but I hope they don't take it lightly. It seems like theres this common transhumanist delusion that this sort of medical care is risk free, and that any risks are fake, or just fear mongering. But any plastic surgery or medication even inherently has risks! Even just going under anesthesia has risks! I'd love to get my tubes tied but you have to have surgery for that, and surgery has inherent risks, and doctors can mess up. And you can have complications for life. And surgery on the most intimate part of you has even more risks, so I think that people should not take it so lightly, or assume that since many people get it done that it's perfectly safe and there are no issues involved. BBLs were popular a few years ago, but thousands of women died from complications from them. I don't see much of a difference between gender affirming surgery and traditional plastic surgery, because in both cases you're trying to change the way society perceives you by undergoing risk to change your body. And for some people, the benefits outweigh those risks. But for society at large, it contributes to a pattern of people being pressured to conform or else think that something is terribly wrong with them. Idk, I think people should just be able to have the personality that they have without thinking they need to pay thousands of dollars to go under the knife to become beautiful or to change their sex characteristics. Your sex doesn't determine your personality any more than your cup size, and I wish people didn't feel the need to change just to conform.

[guiltgal]

Part 36 of dc x pokemon series: Oliver Queen/Green Arrow

Oliver Queen has a large amount of pokemon companions, though only a handful are known to the public.

Before being stranded on Starfish Island, Oliver had little interest in forming bonds with multiple pokemon, but he was forced to rely on and befriend several during his days as a cast-away.

He crafted pokeballs the old-fashioned way using apricorns and tumble stones available on the island. He transferred them to more comfortable balls after his rescue and return.

Belisa: Oliver's first pokemon and a gift from his mother- a female Indeedee. She, too, was washed up on Starfish Island with Ollie, having escaped her ball to help him safely to shore. The two survived together on the island for that year and grew closer. She helped him understand pokemon and people better and now cares for The Quiver (Formerly the Arrowcave).

Lea: Comfey caught on Starfish Island and one of the pokemon Oliver admitted to catching there after his rescue. This little gal was helpful in showing Oliver what was safe to eat.

Beaker: Oliver's Toucannon and the other pokemon he admits to catching on the island. He was Ollie's alarm and now acts as an eye in the sky.

Climate: Pansage and the last pokemon Oliver admits to catching on the island publically. He doesn't join him in the field at all as he stands out too much in Star City.

Universal Health: The Blissey Oliver caught as a Chansey after returning to Star City, and he began his in-depth charity work after his time on the island reformed him. She provides the best care she can to civilians and victims as a Green Arrow partner and to the members of the Arrow Team. To cover any identifying markings, she wears a green cloak with green gross over her egg pouch.

Gimmighoul (Chest): Bestowed upon him after his return and takeover of Queen Industries. The weight of this pokemon feels heavy despite only being attached to his family for two generations, unlike Bruce's generational Gholdengo.

Songbird: Oliver's Chatot that he caught for no particular reason (He caught it so he could always hear Dinah sing).

Green Arrow's combat and support pokemon. He doesn't often catch new pokemon, instead, forming tight bonds with a few.

Fletcher: Oliver's Partner Decidueye. He caught this pokemon as a Dartrix on Starfish Island. They formed a fast bond, hunting and living together on the island. He learned a lot about stealth and archery from this pokemon. (The bat pokemon of Gotham are very wary of this pokemon)

Strike: Passimian Oliver caught on Starfish island that joins him in the field as a rescue support and hand-to-hand flank striker when Ollie needs to get in close.

Point: Barraskewda caught on Starfish Island. Studying his pre-evolution body improved Oliver's arrowhead designs. Now provides water support.

Leep: A Liepard caught on Starfish island. Stealth training partner and companion.

Freedom: Tropius that Oliver caught in hopes of escaping the island, however, it is not a long distance flyer. He did, however, take Oliver to his rescue and now acts as his flying mount over Star City. The only reason the public doesn't know about this pokemon is that his recuers didn't see Freedom before dropping Oliver in the water beforenreturning to his ball.

Heed: the final pokemon Oliver caught on Starfish Island. The key to the secret Base Oliver built on the island once he returned- A Staryu that doesn't evolve but has the psychic typing of a starmie.

Bullseye: Shiny Fearow Oliver caught during further training after his rescue.

Arron: Vikavolt caught after his return to Star City, feeling an affinity with it.

Ammo: A dreepy that began following Ollie after his return to life. He struggled with the attention before this pokemon saved his and Mia's lives. He has since added it to his team. It looooves being fired from Oliver's bow.

Virizion: Joins Oliver due to affinity as a protector. Only joins him during the severe threats.

[preservationofnormalcy]

Ugh, this weekend's been a mess. Five days is the longest I'd ever lost to my hypersomnia (if it even is that at all). I've been spending the weekend catching up on missed appointments and obligations. Suffice it to say, my boyfriend was worried sick.

My camera's been a bust. At 4:21 AM, the recording just gets messed up. Nothing but static and a garbled mess of ringing audio. Before that, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. It's just me, tossing and turning in my bed as I sleep.

My partner, he... Came to visit during the week. Apparently I was gone. I don't remember even an inkling of any of this. I worry that whatever's taking me is doing bad things to my body. I'm still human, but it doesn't seem like I'm actually eating when I'm not there. And yet, I feel an ungodly exhaustion when I wake, as though I'd been living multiple lifetimes.

I don't know what's going on anymore, and I don't know who's watching me. I'm checking over my shoulder every minute, and I'm afraid to leave my apartment. Ironically, I've actually been losing sleep. I'm worried I'll disappear again when I go under.

How do I keep myself awake?

-S(leeping anon)

Norm is going to get a little personal, if that's okay. As personal as I can be with the autoredact.

A few years ago, I experienced an...event. I don't want to/can't talk about it. It's not the same as what you're experiencing, but I can understand a little of what's happening to you.

I understand the fear. I understand not knowing what's going on, the feeling like you're dying. I understand feeling mad that this is happening to you, that you didn't deserve it, the bargaining and begging. I know you're feeling like no one else understands it either.

I understand the paranoia and feeling like you can't trust even yourself. I know what it's like to feel unwelcome in your own....skin. Like a stranger.

The hardest part was asking for help. You've done that, and I'm very proud of you for it. Whether it's something mundane or something extranormal, I'm very proud of you for it.

The second hardest part is getting the help. Can you find one of our branch offices? For me. If you're at a site I can make it to, I promise I'll come say hi. We'll do our best to figure this out, but you have to come to us. You don't have to be strong, S, but I'd like to see you doing better than you are now.

The journey out of the pit starts with practicing the climb.

[lightofunova]

Previous

@ask-the-royal-absol

As she listened to the giratina, Reshi tried to take in what he said. It was difficult to process, she had been overwhelmed by so many little things.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be perfect, I was just expecting to have fun.” She started, staring at the ornate floor beneathe them. “First thing when I got here, this absol decided I looked like curtains. Then I found a few of my friends, that was nice.”

A moment’s pause. It was hard to think the next event still happened only a few hours earlier this evening. “I trusted someone I shouldn’t have though…and almost payed the price for it earlier.”

She knew she was being vague. It still stung, acting so carelessly. After that she was far more careful.

“When I came back, I tried to warn that absol’s friend about him and the stupid pokemon got cursed to fall in love! Then they came over and both started arguing!” Heat rose in the small space. “The absol got punched after for what they said. I left after someone brought up something sensitive. I’m not sure who, but it wasn’t that absol…”

Her explanation wasn’t as cohesive as she wanted, but it sufficed. She wasn’t in a proper headspace to recount every detail from every event.

“There’s just so many people here who have absolutely no empathy or wish to be rude to others simply for the fun of it! That’s not even to say how many legends have been lying left and right! Do you understand how irritating that is?! I hate it, trying to block out that ability is so troublesome, I could care less what the reasoning may be!” Hot tears rolled down the albino’s face as she thought about it. She hadn’t expected so many smokes and mirror to other legendaries, let alone the amount of people present who would lie. It took a few moments for the heat to die back down

“It’s hard to be a good friend to others when you can tell when they lie to you. No one wants to tell you what their secrets are, or they avoid talking to you about certain subjects.”

She stared off into space. She couldn’t leep a secret if asked directly about it. Everyone who knew what she was had to know it. “I don’t know if I want to stay longer. I was thinking about going home. I’m not sure I really belong here.”

The silence between them was interrupted by the sound of doors opening. Staggered footsteps and slurred laughter followed.

A burst of flames radiated about her, as she went to speak. It was too late, they had already plopped down besides her on the floor. She flinched away from their touch, not wanting to be anywhere near the absol. A quick glance towards Singularity was all she got before the absol spoke.

To her surprise, every word they uttered was honest. It was a stark contrast between the pokemon she had encountered before. The stench of booze reeked off of them, something Reshi didn’t particularly want to be near. Destino might not have been the only reason her night went so horribly, but they were close to the top.

Even when she wanted to be alone they seemed to find and pester her. She was exhausted, resting her head on her knees, avoiting their visage. This night was just too much. Perhaps she wasn’t ready for something so big so soon. It had been 3000 years after all.