#maximus the old bull

[ohjeeztrains]

Maximus' washout wreck of June 2nd, 1916 (may) have claimed his old LS&I crew members, the engineer, fireman, and brakeman, back when he was numbered 14.

The ghost crew do care a lot for their engine and they don't blame him for the wreck, but Maximus is wracked with guilt, but sometimes they take full control of him to help get him out of sticky situations…

[nouvellevqgue]

✦ FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR, M. VERSTAPPEN

everybody knows that this account is full of max. from his first win to now, from his most random things to his glory time, she's always there to post his pictures. they only know her as his friend and nothing more, but who is she actually?

req: Saw your post for smau requests, maybe a Max Verstappen where people don't realise his girlfriends account is you know her official verified account. Because practically every single post is about Max. Full on fan behaviour, in the sense she was his first fan as his childhood friend, she has been there supporting him since they were kids, and now they're adults and together, but some habits doesn't change.

(bonus if the posts makes people question why she choose Max as her mans.)

2016 - 2018

verstappenight

liked by maxverstappen33, and 1,942 others

verstappenight WOOOO P1🏆🏁 congratulations to you maximus, i'm soo proud of you!

view all 125 comments

maxverstappen33 I won't say anything about the name Maximus, but thank you 😄

danielricciardo Well deserved! 👍🙌

username look how young he is

username I love a supportive fan ^^ Plz post more of this man.

   ⤷ yourusername glad to be on your service, ma'am

username how old is he?

username He's so happy, he turns red.

username I usually don't trust redbull after Sebastian, but he might be my new exception🤷‍♀️

verstappenight

liked by danielricciardo, and 1,230 others

verstappenight that eyes glint with mischief. #throwbackthursday

view all 65 comments

maxverstappen33 Oh my god, I thought I trusted you by taking this years ago

   ⤷ yourusername never trust anyone

username The half smile😂

username He's been pulling the red string with Red Bull from a long time ago, and look at the hat. I bet it's not a coincidence.

username how is she even managed to get this out? this looks so ancient

   ⤷ username It's not ancient, it's probably old, but not ancient.

danielricciardo He looks like he's planning to steal one of the cars steering wheel

   ⤷ username exactly! 😂😂

username if it's a throwback, how old is this pic then?

   ⤷ username i mean he looks way younger than him on her recent post, so just figure it.

   ⤷ username he always looks younger

verstappenight

liked by victoriaverstappen, and 963 others

verstappenight how is it feel to have a duplicates?

view all 72 comments

maxverstappen33 Why are you taking the second one?

   ⤷ verstappenight and why are YOU posing to that one?

username Why is he looks younger and younger each time?

   ⤷ verstappenight i don't know, but i definitely recommend him to have a slug treatment for anti aging.

   ⤷ username username it's him in torro rosso, so that's why he looks more like a teenager.

username it's not even thursday yet, but i had a bad feeling for this week's throwback thursday.

verstappenight

liked by carlossainz55, and 3,573 others

verstappenight boo! happy halloween #throwbackthursday

view all 269 comments

username what did i say, my feelings are never lying

carlossainz55 Got you! 😆🤣

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 If I got a heart attack next week, it'll be completely your fault

landonorris is halloween on 29 or 30?

   ⤷ username depends on what region you're in, i guess?

   ⤷ landonorris don't guess, answer.

maxverstappen1 And how are you even managed to take this?? Seriously. yourusername

username I can't believe it's actually Carlos who did this

   ⤷ username Yeah, but I think this is so Carlos-like behavior.

username i would do that face too if someone dressed as scream beside me

username Who is running this fanpage?

username why are you liking him so much?

   ⤷ yourusername because he is so nice, cool, and he looks like sid from ice age which is my favorite character.

   ⤷ danielricciardo we got a whole stack of characters here: first we got maximus the horse from tangled, sid from ice age, and then what? jimmy neutron?

username 😂😂😂ajajaja mira su cara!

verstappenight

liked by redbullracing, and 3,782 others

verstappenight found this on twitter and now i can't stop laughing! can't wait to send this to my family group.

view all 90 comments

maxverstappen1 I really can't trust you with my digital footprint 🤦🏻‍♂️

   ⤷ verstappenight i found this on twitter alright, it's not taken by me!

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 Still.

   ⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh, someone's upset...

username who is this person behind this account?

username Why is his reaction is always looking so hilarious

username Max: 😦

username i feel him

username you sure it's not throwback thursday?

MID 2023

verstappenight

liked by charles_leclerc, and 97,182 others

verstappenight i changed throwback thursday with this questionable sense of max's fashion. hope that's alright.

photo credit via verstauri on twitter.

view all 348 comments

username NOOOOOOOOOOOO

username #bringbackthrowbackthursday

charles_leclerc If you get rid of throwback Thursday, how am I going to tease him?

   ⤷ verstappenight by searching it on pinterest🤷🏻‍♀️

username Is that real or photoshopped?

username Okay, I know throwback thursday is made a long time ago since 2015 but man I really miss it sm... 💔💔

   ⤷ verstappenight same, but some people don't need that old max (except for charles). we need the new one because life goes on -max via my message

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember saying it

   ⤷ verstappenight shut up

username oh cmon i know charles want it because he's in love with max

   ⤷ username should i be surprised?

   ⤷ username i mean if there's no throwback thursday, who's going to tease him with his past when she's not there

   ⤷ username Daniel and Lando or Y/n could...

   ⤷ username oh come on, i don't even know who's the person behind this account anyway, for EIGHT YEARS

   ⤷ username As if you've never heard of twitter, just search her username and you'll see her REAL face.

THE TWEET SHE MEANT:

verstappenight

liked by schecoperez, and 113,809 others

verstappenight guess which one is the real one

view all 462 comments

schecoperez The first one of course!😂🤣

username since when did checos ass becoming that juicy

   ⤷ username since he listened to daddy yankee's song on repeat

   ⤷ danielricciardo His actual morning routine:

username the first one because what else would he be doing if not eating omelette and seeing checo's ass in the morning

   ⤷ username even checo himself agrees

username I'm glad that she still post here, even though there's no throwback thursday anymore😞😔

   ⤷ username but i guess even though we did not have throwback thursday anymore, we still have this crack post of him😄

TWITTER, 3 DAYS AFTER THE COMMENTS ON VERSTAPPENIGHT'S DADDY POST:

maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! 2h

ON THE OTHER HAND, HER ACTUAL IG:

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 82,147 others

yourusername good moooorniiiiinggggg from my room<3

view all 97 comments

username Thank God it's not private

username damn yall work faster than the fbi

username Anyone come here from twitter?

username Omg I've never realized max pulled this hottie ever since they were born

username THIS IS VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN?????

   ⤷ username eight years of waiting is finally getting payed off..

username why are you even choosing max to be your man when there's charles or daniel who's sexier

   ⤷ yourusername sometimes i don't need looks to see to be having someone like max. he's my best friend first, and i'm glad i choose him right the first place.

   ⤷ username Oh that's sweet...

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too, My biggest fan.

   ⤷ username I LOVE YOU TOO??????💔💔

   ⤷ username oh my god max is having a REAL relationship with a fan account admin

   ⤷ username AWOOP🚨🚔 THEIR MEDIUM LAUNCH????

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, and 278,903 others

yourusername nobody knows that this phone addict is once my best friend. happy birthday maximus! 🥳🤍

view all 486 comments

landonorris happy birthday facebook dad.

maxverstappen1 I once again not going to take the Maximus name. It makes me feel like a horse from Rapunzel.

   ⤷ yourusername wait, you've watch tangled before?

danielricciardo Happy birthday, Big boy.

redbullracing Happy birthday to our number one champion! 🥳🥳

username awww baby maxiee🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate!

carlossainz55 To be honest, your real account is sometimes still kinda feels like your other one.

   ⤷ yourusername force of habit probably?

   ⤷ carlossainz55 No, it's because you're acting like Max's biggest fan everywhere.

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 That's probably because she is.

   ⤷ yourusername wipe that smug smile off your face while you're typing

username He looks the same weirdly or not

username AHA I FOUND YOU VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN

username i love how she just hanging to his arm like they're been a couple since god knows how long

username SHE'S SOO LUCKYYY

username i'm gonna melt

username i feel like it's a hard launch, but she have been doing this for a long time ago

sophiekumpen 🥳🥳🥳

maxverstappen1

liked by zedd, and 627,834 others

maxverstappen1 How was I going to get her bad side if she's there and looking so beautifully?

👤: yourusername, verstappenight

view all 446 comments

landonorris poetic. remember your other girlfriend's waiting

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember having another one?

   ⤷ charles_leclerc How are you even forget about us?

yourusername awww i can't believe you tag the fan account one too!! i love you so much!!!

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too❤️

username #justiceforcharles #lestappenforever

username SHE'S SOOOO CUTE no wonder max pulled her

victoriaverstappen I didn't know you pulled this cutie

   ⤷ danielricciardo Me too until I found out yesterday at the club

username poetic max is going to be the end of me

username I really had a bad feelings of he becoming poetic and gets all over like this

username Okay, this is max's hard launch. And now I'm waiting for Y/n's

   ⤷ username i thought she already doing it for so many times at verstappenight? 😏🤭

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, and 579,420 others

yourusername 💌

📸: landonorris

view all 461 comments

username PARENTS CONFIRMED???

username YESS (adopt me pls)

username is verstappenight still going to be there? let's see for the next two days...

username verstappenight nation how do we feel after this? (we can get a new max pic daily)

username i'm gonna thank lando forever for this

username With the bouquet, the dim light, and the black and white + sepia filters. What are they doin that night?

username AWWW ROMANTIC😍😍

danielricciardo They left Charles in the back that night

⤷ landonorris aww poor him. but anyway...

username how are you converting from lestappen to this one so fast?

TAGLIST @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification

[eichornia]

So I had a thought:

- It's 2024. Daniel is back in the grid, his hand is completely healed, his curls are thriving. He feels confident again and he's happy. He's in a low dose of antidepressants and the therapy does wonders. 2022 seems really far away.

- He's starting the season in a good mood, flirting his way through the paddock, joking with the Netflix boys. It's Thursday and they're in Australia. Australia, baby, his favourite place in the world. His family is coming to see him race, Isaac being old enough to really enjoy being in the garage. He's curious and funny and Daniel misses him a lot when he's away. He loves Isabella too, she's his princess. But she's not really interested in the sport (yet) and she's in a hardcore Bluey phase. So Isaac asks him if he can go with him to the garage and when they're there, he asks if they can go visit the Red Bull garage because he's obsessed with the RB and to be honest, with Max too. Just like his uncle, Blake likes to say. Usually that makes Daniel to show his karate moves but not for long because Blake is a scary motherfucker sometimes even if he hides it well.

- So to the RB garage they go. They chat with Christian for a bit (Do you want to run for us when you're big, Isaac?, he asks) (And Isaac says yes, yes, yes) and they dodge Helmut when he appears in the garage because he's scary and not in a nice way. (Isaac says he smells like moths and Daniel has to fight really hard not to laugh) and then they spot Max. He's talking with GP but when he sees them, he waves smiling and he talks with Isaac like he's an adult (and even invites him to look into the car and explains to him everything, twice when Isaac asks again about some things).

- And yeah, Daniel has feelings. Like, he knows he had feelings for Max since... Well, a long time ago. He knows but he was scared of being bisexual (thanks Josh Allen for fixing that) and older than Max, and he was scared of being reciprocal because yeah, like Max was his teammate? His hot, younger, faster teammate.

- But now Daniel is (even) older and has learnt to not give a fuck about what people thinks. And yeah, watching Max with his niece? It's doing things to Daniel's heart.

- So yeah, Australia is awesome, racing in Australia is even better, getting points in Australia is a dream come true after these past years. He's high on endorphins and that's his excuse to intercept Max when he's on his way to his driver room after the podium. (Hey, hi, Maxy, Maximus, I was thinking, like, congrats in the podium, by the way, good trophy and all that, but I was thinking of asking you if you wanted to come to Perth?)

- The craziest thing to happen is that Max says yes. No doubts at all, just his big smile that makes his eyes go small and a 'yes, Daniel'.

- PERTH. It goes like this: Max comes to the farm, falls in love with Daniel's house, Daniel's falls in love a bit more with him. And Max knows nothing about it because Daniel is a bit immature but he's not stupid (not about this anyway) and Max is one of his best friends and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship.

- So he says nothing and he enjoys having this week with Max in his home. They race dirt bikes, they cook together (well, they try) and they play with Isaac and Isabella when they come to visit. And then it's Sunday, a whole week has passed and they're going to fly together soon to Japan. They're enjoying the hot tub after having a nice dinner and Max is laughing at Daniel's impression of Toto and Daniel feels like his chest is filled with helium, feels high, lucky, funny. And that's his excuse to kiss Max.

- Max doesn't stop laughing for a second even in the middle of the kiss and then he stops moving and breathing and Daniel is panicking a bit. Because he knew it would ruin everything, this thing he feels for Max. But then Max's hand is in his neck, drawing him against his lips again, magnets in the dark.

- So yeah, that's a thing they do now. Making out. Heavy petting. Every time it happens, Daniel wants to flail his arms, run in circles, scream like fucking Tarzan. It's like getting a podium over and over again, it's like champagne bubbles getting trapped in his chest. Max kisses him like he races (point-blank, non-stop, making him weak at the knees) and he likes to make Daniel straddle him and he likes to caress his thighs, draw his tattoos again, the three against his lips before kissing each of his fingers.

-It makes Daniel effervescent with happiness and when they're racing in Japan, he's fourth in the race, almost a podium and he comes back to the garage and hugs everyone and laughs and almost cries because he's coming back, baby, he's so coming back. And he goes back to the hotel and doesn't go to his room, he goes straight to Max's room and he doesn't stop to think because he's going to chicken out otherwise.

- And he's on his knees.

- He's on his knees for Max, and he puts his forehead against Max's tummy and kisses his belly button and blows a raspberry against his hip and Max pushes his head away, silly-laughing, and Daniel says let me, let me, please, I won't do it again, Maxy, but let me and Max touches one of his brows and touches his hair and then brings him against his body.

- And kissing Max is like getting a podium but blowing him is getting second place, getting drunk, getting sweaty, getting high-high-high.

------------------------------------------------------

You can read the continuation here.

[smallratboy]

"I would butcher the whole world if only you would love me"

Maximus and Commodus grew up together as brothers. They were inseparable, bound together by fate. As they grew up, their bond was broken, and they had to face one another not as brothers, but as enemies.

Chapter 6

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: Brotherly relationship between Maximus and Commodus, non-graphic mentions of incest between Commodus and Lucilla, graphic mentions of battle and corpses, major spoilers for the film

The great emperor Marcus Aurelius had grown old and frail. While still strong of mind and soul, it was apparent that he was dying. Still, he insisted on both him and his co-emperor, Lucius Verus, being present at every battle against the barbarians of Antioch. 

It was at one of these battles that Lucius Verus, husband to Lucilla and father to a young son, also named Lucius, was killed. His wife wept to hear news of his death, and his son, too young to remember him, was given his ring as a token. 

Despite the loss of his best friend, emperor Marcus Aurelius continued to journey alongside his adoptive son, Maximus, as they continued their decades-long charge. However, when he found he could hardly get on his horse or stand on his own, he called upon his blood children to return to the palace with him and prepare to run the empire.

~*⚔*~  

Maximus 

After three glorious years with his wife and son, Maximus was called back to serve his father as general of the Roman army. As much as he loved being with his soldiers and his father, and letting his brain work with battle strategies, he missed his family. He spoke of them almost endlessly, and carried with him small carvings of them which his wife had made. 

These tokens rode in his pocket now as he strode into battle, the Roman army milling anxiously in their rows. As he approached, there were cheers and calls of ‘strength and honor'. Dogs barked and horses whinnied, and the sound of marching could be heard from across the valley. 

The battle was harsh and seemed to drag on for a lifetime. Maximus felt his whole body burn from the strain, and he took every opportunity he could to check and see that his men were alright. He could see, on a far hill, three horses. On one of those horses rode his father. 

The forest around him burned, a harsh contrast to the freezing wind which blew a flurry of snowflakes down upon him. There were screams everywhere. Even as Maximus's body burned, his breath coming in heaving pants, he remembered that all of this was to protect the ones he loved. As he brought down one soldier after another, he thought of his father, he thought of Rome, and he thought of his home. 

Slowly, the barrage of enemies stopped. The sounds of war quieted, and all that was left was the howling of the wind and the crackling of the burning trees. He stood to his full height, raising his sword. As he did, cheers rang out from all across the field. They had won 

Maximus walked slowly to where his front lines had been, and back to his father. As he walked, he saw an unfamiliar horse approach, bearing on its back a rider dressed in clean grey armor. The rider dismounted, and stopped before his father. 

Maximus approached at a jog, anxious to see what was happening. As he approached, he slowed. Commodus was standing beside his father, seeming to try to insert himself into the battle. He stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“I will sacrifice 100 bulls in your honor!” Commodus declared, walking slowly with Father on his arm. He slowed, patting Commodus. 

“Save the bulls, and honor Maximus. He is the true hero,” Father said, pointing to Maximus who was standing before them. Beside the royal father and son, Maximus felt a bit like a barbarian himself. He was dirty and bloody, his armor scuffed and his robes torn. 

“General,” Commodus exclaims, hesitating before Maximus. His smile falters. 

“Highness,” Maximus replies warily. It has been almost a decade since he has seen Commodus, and he almost doesn't recognize the man before him as his brother. He is taller now, his face has begun to show age, yet still rounded by the delicacies of palace life. Commodus’ smile returns, looking almost forced. 

“Rome salutes you and I embrace you as a brother. It has been too long, old friend,” Commodus declared, leaving his father's side to embrace Maximus. Maximus hesitantly returned the embrace, unsure of how to act. 

“There will be plenty of time to catch up later, Commodus,” Father intoned, patting his son's arm. “I'm sure your brother is weary, and my old bones can't take much more of this cold. Come.” 

As Commodus and his father walked away, Maximus was struck by how odd it was to see him again. He had missed him, of course, but it seemed that the brother he had left behind and the man who had embraced him were not the same. Maximus wondered if he had changed that much over the course of the last several years, too. 

Later, the two brothers socialized a bit in the dark, stuffy, makeshift tavern that had been set up. All around them, men drank and cheered, the post-battle adrenaline being slow to wear off. Commodus was soon surrounded by friends of his fathers, who were quick to ask about his plans for the future. Commodus laughed it off, and clapped Maximus on the shoulder. 

“Don't start a conversation with these politicians, they'll talk your ear off. ‘Republic, republic, republic.’” Commodus joked. Maximus offered a small smile, his attention caught by a figure adorned in red robes who lingered at the edge of the party. 

“What do you think?” One of the men asked him. “Empire or republic?” 

“I think both have their virtues,” Maximus said, craning his neck to see the robed figure, but she had gone. 

He broke off from the conversation between his brother and the senators, weaving his way through the crowd in an attempt to find the woman. As he emerged from the tent, he saw her standing stoically among the falling snow. 

“My lady,” He gave her a curt bow, a small grin playing on his lips. 

“Maximus,” Lucilla sighed, pulling down her hood. “I've missed you.” 

“You've changed,” Maximus observed. She, like her brother, had grown remarkably. She looked so young still to him, yet her eyes held ancient knowledge. “You're beautiful.”

She smiled, reaching for his hand. His palm swallowed her hand, offering a comforting squeeze. 

“How is your son?” He asked. Her smile widened, her gaze wistful. 

“Lucius is wonderful. He reminds me so much of his father, and he grows smarter every day,” Lucilla's light eyelashes were accumulating small snowflakes, her cheeks pinking from the cold. “If you would come back to the palace with us, you could meet him.”

“I'm going home as soon as I'm permitted to,” Maximus sighed, drawing his hand away from Lucilla’s. “My own son waits for me. I promised I'd teach him to ride a horse as soon as I got back.”

“Well,” Lucilla smiled sadly. “It has been lovely to see you, Maximus. We missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Maximus drew her into his arms before leaving. Lucilla was left standing in the snow. 

Free of his armor, Maximus took a moment to scrub his hands and arms of the dried blood which had accumulated on them. He was about to lay down on his bedroll and take a moment to rest before the celebration that was bound to ensue, when Cicero, followed by his father, made their way into his tent. 

“Ah good, Maximus,” father said, motioning for him to come. He smiled, putting a hand on his father's shoulder as he approached. "Congratulations,” his father said, smiling proudly. 

“It's all for the glory of Rome,” Maximus replied, a spark of pride blooming in his chest. 

“Ah yes, the glory of Rome,” his father said, turning away and motioning for Maximus to follow. “What is the glory of Rome?” 

The two men strode through the encampment, cheers and victorious cries breaking out as they passed. Maximus stopped to greet one of his soldiers who was sitting propped up against a barrel. 

Inside his father's tent, it was dark and smelled of eucalyptus. There was a single candle burning on a chest, the only source of light. Incense smoke hung heavy in the air. Father sat down heavily on a chair loaded with blankets, and Maximus stood facing him. The old man covered himself with two of the thick wool blankets, before turning to face Maximus. 

“Remind me, Maximus,” the old man rasped, “why are we here?” 

“For the glory of the empire,” Maximus replied almost instinctively. “For you.”

“Do you remember Rome, Maximus?” His father looked up at him wearily. “How long has it been since you were home?”

“It has been nearly three years since I've been home to my wife and son, and even longer since I have seen Rome.” A pang of homesickness rang out in his chest as he thought of his family. 

“Then you have not seen what she has become,” he stretched out in his chair, his old bones creaking. “Maximus, there was once a dream that was Rome, you could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish. I want you to whisper it for me, after I am gone.

“You are the son I should have had. Commodus is not suited to rule after I am gone, you know this. I want you to rule after I am gone. It is you who will return Rome to a republic and give the glory of Rome back to the people.” 

Maximus stared at him, dumbfounded. During his childhood, there had always been vague talk of returning Rome to a republic, but he never thought it would be him to do it. 

“I can't,” Maximus whispered, his mind reeling. 

“You can and you will, my son,” his father reached out and grabbed his hand, pressing his lips against it. “I know you can.”

That night, Maximus tossed and turned. Finally, he went and woke Cicero, who sat up with him and they discussed plans for returning from war. 

“I’m going to accompany your father to Rome,” Cicero said. “I want to become a member of the senate.” 

Maximus grinned, patting his friend's arm. 

“You would make quite the senator,” the two men chuckled. 

Suddenly Quintus, Maximus’ second in command, entered the tent, followed by three guards. 

“The emperor needs you,” Quintus said somberly. Maximus stood, running to his father's tent. Cicero and the guards did not follow him, but Quintus was hot on his heels. The inside of his father's tent was cold and dark. Lucilla and Commodus stood over their father's bed. He appeared to be sleeping.

“What…” Maximus whispered, and both siblings turned to look at him. 

“Lament with me brother,” Commodus said, extending his hand. “Our great father is dead.” 

Maximus’ mind reeled. He took a step back, shaking his head. 

“The surgeons said there was no pain,” Commodus continued. “His breath gave out as he slept.” Maximus rushed forward in disbelief. His hands shook, not quite touching his father. Hours ago, they were speaking about the future of Rome. Now he was gone. 

“Your emperor asks for your loyalty” Commodus intoned, placing a hand on Maximus’ shoulder. “I only ask for it once.” 

Maximus shoved his hand off, standing and walking briskly out of the tent. Back in his tent, he started strapping on his armor. Cicero went to fetch his sword. 

“Quintus,” Maximus huffed, “We need to return to Rome. The emperor has been slain.” 

 “Ride him until dawn, then execute him,” Quintus did not meet his eyes. The guards started to advance on Maximus, one of them grabbing Maximus’ hands and holding them behind his back. 

“Quintus!” Maximus yelled, struggling. Still he did not meet his eyes. “Quintus, promise me you'll watch over my family.”

“Your family will meet you in the afterlife,” Quintus muttered. Maximus was dragged out of the tent. His hands were lashed together and a bag was thrown over his head. He was thrust onto a horse and when they began to ride the jostling of the horse almost made him sick. As he rode, he prayed, 

“Blessed father, watch over my wife and son with a ready sword, whisper to them that I live only to hold them again. For all else is dust and air, whisper that I live only to hold them again,”

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they stopped. He almost fell from his horse, and was roughly pulled to his knees. The bag was pulled from his head, and the soldiers before him all looked upon him with somber faces. He recognized them all. 

“At least give me a clean death,” Maximus requested “a soldier's death.” 

He felt the executioner's sword against the back of his neck. As the sword raises, he stands and quickly disarms him, cutting his own bonds and beheading him. The guard before him is struggling to get his blade out of the sheath, but it won't dislodge. 

“The frost,” Maximus taunts. “Sometimes it makes the blade stick.” With a swing of his sword, the man falls dead. A third guard on his horse runs at Maximus, clipping his arm with his sword as he passes. He turns to make another attack, but before he can hit him, Maximus has run him through with his sword. 

Finally, all he can hear is his own heavy breathing. As the adrenaline wears off, a pang of sorrow overwhelms him. His father, the man who raised him, cared for him, loved him through his whole life, was gone. He fell to his knees and wept for his father on the forest floor. 

Commodus

The rocking of the carriage was ceaseless, knocking Commodus’ body from side to side. Lucilla, tucked in on her side, rocked softly as she slept. He watched her sleep, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks tinted pink. A strand of hair had fallen in her face, and Commodus moved to brush it away. His hand lingered on her cheek, her skin warm and soft against his fingers. 

She stirred in her sleep, and he moved away. He stood by the window of the small carriage, his mind turning again and again to his father and to Rome. Commodus had left the battlefield permanently after his injury and was living with Lucilla and baby Lucius. He was anxious to see his father again, anxious to hear the plans for his succession. 

Finally, he would be emperor. Finally, he would have everything he had ever wanted. And, despite his apprehensions, he wanted Maximus there with him. His general, his second in command, his brother. 

“What are you thinking about?” Lucilla asked, her voice groggy. Commodus jumped, her voice startling him. He paused, thinking of what to say. 

“Do you think he's really dying?” He asked, finally. “I mean, he wouldn't have sent for us if he wasn't really dying.”

“Maybe he just misses us,” Lucilla suggested, stretching. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face.

“Maybe…” Commodus muttered. “But the senators, he summoned them as well!”

“Commodus, you've been scheming for two weeks, it's giving me a headache. Peace.” Lucilla complained. 

“He's going to make me emperor. I'm sure of it!” A small smile graced Commodus’ lips. “The first thing I shall do…when…when I am emperor, is honor him with games!”

“Well, the first thing I shall do is have a hot bath.” Lucilla said, sitting up and adjusting her coat. 

The carriage rumbled to a stop, its passengers lurching forward with the motion. There was a knock on the door and a call of ‘your highness!’ from someone outside. Commodus opened the door, the cold air hitting his face in a blast of wind. His overgrown hair was tousled by it, blowing wayward curls into his face. 

“We seem to be almost there,” the attendant said. 

“Where is my father?” Commodus questioned, looking around at the forest surrounding them. There were soldiers milling about, wounded people on stretchers being carried by their companions. 

“He is at the front,” the attendant replied. “Would you like to ride and meet him?” Commodus nodded. His horse was brought to him, and he pulled himself onto its back. He turned back to Lucilla, who was standing in the door of the carriage. 

“Kiss?” He asked, and she smiled, kissing her fingers and holding them out to him. She waved as he rode away. 

After being cooped up in the carriage for two weeks, it felt good to be on his horse again. He thudded his heels into the horse's flank, urging it forward. The wind whipped through his hair, stinging his cheeks and tinting them pink. 

As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of the soldiers. Victorious cries rang out, reaching his ears over the sound of thudding hooves. He saw his father about 50 yards ahead, accompanied by five or six soldiers. He pulled his horse to a stop as he approached, dismounting rapidly and running to his father's side. 

Reaching the old man, he saw how old and frail he looked. It struck him suddenly that he truly was dying. He held out his arm to the old man. 

“Have I missed the battle?” Commodus asked, looking at the gathered soldiers. 

“You have missed the war,” The emperor said, a tight smile on his lips. 

“So we have won! When we return to Rome, I shall sacrifice 100 bulls in your honor!” Commodus declared, throwing up the arm that he wasn't using to support his father. 

“Save the bulls, and honor Maximus,” the old man said, pointing to the general who had just appeared. “He is the true hero.” 

When Commodus looked up to see who his father was pointing at, he almost didn't recognize the dirty, bloody soldier before him as his brother. Maximus looked so much like a man, his face noble and strong and he carried himself like someone who was afraid of nothing. He tried to grin but faltered. It scared him, seeing Maximus like this. 

“General!” He exclaimed when he recovered his voice.                                                   

“Highness,” Maximus replies. His gaze rakes Commodus up and down, and he feels himself bristle under the other man's gaze. His smile is beginning to make his cheeks ache. 

“Rome salutes you and I embrace you as a brother. It has been too long, old friend,” Commodus declares, his voice coming out an octave lower than normal. He left the emperor's side to embrace Maximus, his clean hands and armor a stark contrast to Maximus’ filth. Maximus returned the embrace, seeming almost unsure. Still, there was something nice about having his brother's arms around him.  

“There will be plenty of time to catch up later, Commodus,” His father intoned, patting Commodus’ arm. “I'm sure your brother is weary, and my old bones can't take much more of this cold. Come.” 

Reluctantly, Commodus turned away from Maximus and returned to the emperor's side, helping his father to his tent. He settled the old man down in his chair, resting a thick blanket on him. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Commodus asked, eager to be of service. The old man shook his head. 

“Later, I wish to speak with you,” his father sighed, settling into the chair. “But now, celebrate. We have won, and there are many here who would wish to see you.” 

Commodus nodded, leaving the old man's side and beginning to wander around the encampment. As the sun began to set, he heard the sound of laughter coming from the largest tent he had ever seen. He ducked inside and saw hundreds of soldiers drinking, talking, and making merry. In the midst of them was Maximus. 

“Brother!” Commodus cried. Maximus turned to him as Commodus approached. “Here he is!”

“Highness,” Maximus replied. He seemed distant, but Commodus shrugged it off. He began making introductions between his brother and the senators, all friends of his father's. 

“Senator Gaius, Senator Falco,” He said, pointing to the two men, “Beware of Gaius, he will pour honeyed potion in your ear and you will wake up saying ‘Republic! Republic!’”

Senator Gaius made some retort about republics, but Commodus had tuned him out. He was acutely aware of Maximus, who was staring off in the distance at some other figure. Then, he saw Lucilla hiding in the wings of the tent. Anger burned within him. 

“What do you think?” Falco asked Maximus. “Empire or republic?” 

“I think they both have their virtues,” Maximus said, still obviously distracted. After that, Maximus pulled himself from the group, his intent clear. Commodus wanted to go after him, but was distracted by the senators who were clearly hellbent on talking his ear off all night. 

“Commodus, I believe your father wants to return Rome to a republic,” Gaius said, wringing his hands. 

“Well the wishes of a dying man are just that; wishes,” Commodus replied, his smile turning into a sneer. Falco sneered back. 

Finally, he broke free from their endless prattling. He made his way to his own tent, which was situated right next to his father's. After a moment's rest, he was about to go speak to his father when he heard voices. Maximus and the emperor. 

Commodus couldn't make out much, just snippets of garbled murmurs. He got closer, pressing against the thin fabric walls between the tents. 

“You are the son I should have had,” The emperor's voice was clearer now. “Commodus is not suited to rule after I am gone, you know this. I want you to rule after I am gone. It is you who will return Rome to a republic and give the glory of Rome back to the people.” 

Commodus reeled, anger boiling within him. Surely his father must be lying. Maximus was to rule? And why was he more fit to be the emperor's son? Commodus felt like screaming, his hands were trembling, and his breathing came in labored gulps. 

Commodus pictured himself as though he was Julius Caesar, betrayed by his own senate. The emperor had driven sword after sword into his back, and he was left to bleed out and die. His brother and his father, going behind his back. 

An unclear amount of time later, he was summoned into his father's tent. He stood on unsteady legs, smoothing back his wayward curls. He took a deep breath, and tried to school his thoughts into order. 

His father's tent was warm and incense hung heavy in the air. A single candle guttered on a tabletop. 

“Commodus, sit,” The emperor bade, offering a spot for him to sit. Commodus did not comply. The old man hummed. 

“Are you ready to do your duty for Rome?” he asked, looking up at Commodus from his chair. Commodus stood up straighter and puffed his chest out.  

“Yes, father,” He replied. 

“You will not be emperor,” the old man declared, sighing. Even though he knew this was coming, to hear it confirmed drew fresh tears to his eyes. His lip trembled, and his breath came in ragged pants. 

“W-which wiser, older man is to take my place?” Commodus asked, his voice tight in his throat. 

“My powers will pass to Maximus until the senate is ready to rule once more,” said the old man. “Rome is to be a republic again.”

“Maximus?” Commodus’ hands shook, his fists clenching and unclenching. The old man reached out a hand to touch him and Commodus whipped his head out of the way. 

“My decision disappoints you?” He almost sounds disappointed. 

“You wrote to me once, listing the four chief virtues,” Commodus inhaled, recalling his father's letter. "Wisdom, justice, fortitude, and temperance. As I read the list I knew I had none of them. 

“But I have other virtues! Ambition, that can be a virtue when it drives us to excel; resourcefulness; courage, perhaps not on the battlefield but there are many forms of courage; devotion, to my family, to you. But none of my virtues were on your list.,” Commodus’ voice cracked, tears gathering in his eyes. “Even then it was as if you didn't want me for your son.”

“Commodus, you go too far,” the emperor looked up at him, sadness in his eyes. It felt like a mockery. 

“I searched the faces of the gods for ways to please you, to make you proud,” Commodus' voice shook, a tear spilling down his face. “One kind word, one full hug while you pressed me to your chest and held me tight, would have been like the sun on my heart for a thousand years.

“What is it in me you hate so much? All I ever wanted was to live up to you…Caesar.” The emperor cringed at the use of the title. He extended his hands to Commodus, his mouth opening as if he was trying to find the right words. 

“Your faults as a son,” he finally said. “Are my failures as a father.”

Commodus embraced the man before him, bringing his face to his chest. It was a mockery of what Commodus had always longed for, both men weeping, the angles all wrong and their limbs in a tangle. 

“I would have butchered the whole world if you would have only loved me!” Commodus cried, his voice full of anguish. The old man rubbed his back as if to comfort him, their embrace stiffening. 

Commodus’ grip tightened, his arms clamping around the man's head. He began to wail, his sounds akin to that of a wounded child. Slowly, the emperor began to struggle, his arms leaving Commodus’ body in a polite attempt to break the hold. Commodus’ wails grew only louder, his hands trembling, pulling the man tighter against his chest. 

When he began to scream, it vibrated against Commdous’ chest, his final breaths puffing warm air against his skin. Slowly, unbearably slowly, his struggles stopped. His body stiffened, then went slack. Commodus stood there, equally stiff. He held him there, the sound of his breathing the only sound. 

After what felt like hours, Commodus stepped back. He held the old man's face in his hands, his eyes open and his face pale. Commodus closed his eyes with shaking hands. Tears fell down his face, hitting the waxen skin of the dead emperor before him. 

He laid him down on his chair, slowly and tenderly. He laid two blankets over him, thick wool and warm. He gazed at the man before him, a hurricane of emotions inside him. Hatred, for what this filth has done to him. Sorrow, for what he had to do. Love, recognizing the man before him as his father, who raised him on his own ever since his mother passed. Commodus was now an orphan. What a story, an orphaned emperor. 

He stood over his father and watched him, seeing how peaceful he looked. He could be sleeping. He heard the ruffling of the tent, and in stepped his sister. He heard her breath catch in her throat, not turning to look as she approached.

“Is he…?” She trailed off, placing a hand on Commodus’ shoulder. He nodded, still not turning his gaze to her. Lucilla strode out, returning with Quintus. 

“Will you excuse us?” Commodus asked, turning to Quintus. Lucilla strode off, tears in her eyes. “Quintus, now that I am emperor, I fear there are people who will wish to see me killed,” Commodus began, putting a hand on the general's shoulder. “The general Maximus. You must see him killed.” Quintus paled, his eyes widening. 

“Maximus?” Quintus asked, his voice coming out thin and strained. “But he is your brother, and the general of your army.”

“It pains me deeply to have to do this,” Commodus sighed. “But if I do not, I am risking my life. Bring him to me first, to see if he is loyal. If he is not, ride him until dawn, and then execute him.” 

“Yes, sir,” Quintus bowed, walking briskly out of the tent. 

Lucilla's soft footsteps were the only indication that she had returned, for she was silent as the grave. Commodus looked at her as she came to stand beside him. Her face was stoic, but her eyes betrayed her sadness. 

He stepped closer, offering his arms to embrace her, and she slapped him. He stepped back, surprised, his cheek stinging where her palm had landed. His lip trembled, and he was about to do something drastic when Maximus stormed into the tent, followed by Quintus. 

“Lament with me, brother,” Commodus said, turning to face him. “Our great father is dead.”

“What…” Maximus took a step back. He shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. 

“The surgeons said there was no pain,” Commodus continued. “His breath gave out as he slept.” Maximus rushed forward, falling to his knees in front of the emperor. He reached out as if to touch him, hands shaking. 

“Your emperor asks for your loyalty,” Commodus asked, almost mockingly. Still, a small part of him hoped Maximus would still prove loyal. “I only ask for it once.” He placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. 

Immediately, Maximus shoved his hand off, standing up and storming out of the tent without so much as a glance in Commodus’ direction. Commodus turned to Quintus, who nodded solemnly before following the general.

Commodus turned to his sister, realizing now she was the only family he had left. The emperor was dead, Maximus betrayed him. Lucilla was the only one who he could trust.

“Hail Caesar,” she whispered, taking Commodus' hand and kissing it. After that, she left too. 

It was just Commodus, alone with the corpse of the emperor. His hands began to shake, his breath coming in labored pants. He fell to his knees, a strangled scream coming from his throat.

Even though it was not there, he felt the blood of the emperor and Maximus on his hands. He had to kill them, he was forced to. They conspired against him, they were plotting to destroy him. His thoughts turned to Maximus, again and again. His brother, the only person he could trust, betrayed him. It was him or Maximus, they couldn't both live. Right? 

Commodus began to weep like a child. Before the bed of the emperor, he bawled. All his rage and fear and sadness being ripped out of him. Finally, he fell asleep on the cold floor, beside the corpse of the emperor. 

~*⚔*~

a/n: Likes, reblogs and comments make my day, so if you liked this or want to suggest another fic, don’t be afraid to tell me!

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY WORK TRANSLATED, PLAGIARIZED OR REPOSTED TO ANOTHER SITE

[cleverthylacine]

That good old interest-based advertising. Also, Headmasters. And my brother.

I have a confession to make and that is that I actually do allow interest-based advertising because:

I don't have much to hide

If they don't take my interests into account, the things they try to sell me because I'm a lady (albeit an NB one) over the age of 50 make me so fucking depressed I could scream but I don't have the energy. I would rather they know way too much about my Hot Topic purchases and robot and doll collections than get ads for ... what advertisers think old people stuff is. By all means display your incredibly unsettling knowledge of my id and sell me robots and things that look like robot dicks and fashion dolls and fancy clothes...instead of trying to sell me adult diapers and cheap insurance that actually isn't. And homeopathic remedies for problems that I may or may not actually have, but I also know that homeopathy is BULL$HIT.

Anyhow this is brought to you today by;

"Yes, shopping app, I would absolutely love to have that self-transforming remote control Grimlock, he is hella cool and very cute and I really do want him but....first you're going to have to find me the $1700 plus taxes and shipping that I will need to acquire before I can hit that button."

G-d help me if they ever do Soundwave with a little Ravage that comes out of his chest and also transforms.

In other news, Headmasters is still fucking stupid and I still fucking love it.

IDW did all this binary bonding with aliens stuff. I actually do find "Fortress Maximus can turn into a giant head and make his spaceship sapient" much easier to understand.

It's just the plots of this show that are dumb.

Giant Venus Flytrap in a San Francisco office building

Let's blow up Mars

Let's make a big important detailed plan and not tell Scourge and Cyclonus about it, because it's not like they're guaranteed to fuck everything up if we don't.

Kiss Players had a better plot than Headmasters, when they actually like, were doing the plot and not panty jokes.

Also I still after 20-odd years want to scream at Carly and Arcee in this show. I know it's a product of 1980s japan but like, if the grown men/male mecha are unable to do a job, it's frustrating to watch Carly send Daniel or Arcee send Wheelie to do it, because those are children and Arcee and Carly are not.

As a non-Chromedome-liker, I am also amused at how dumb he is in this show.

My brother has developed a new and annoying way of asking for money that I've already told him I don't have. He calls my mom and tells her that I won't help him, so then I have to tell her, too, that yes I just got paid, but they raised the price for the medicine I need to brain from $5 to $40 because they don't like the dosage my doctor prescribes, and the landlord has my rent cheque in hand and is presumably going to cash it, and I also need to eat.

She understands this, at least. I just feel bad for her.

I feel bad for him too, but nobody told him that he needed to rent a U-Haul and move the second he got his new lease without asking either of us if we could afford to help pay for it (we can't.)

[writer59january13]

Learning when/how to close seat then...

flush... the toilet with good frisson!

Bull leave me you, though how bison teen and juvenile from a sixty four year old married male no less!

(alternately titled long windedly using lower case letters: no matter tidily bowled over based

upon real events, perhaps subject devoid

of literary merit and/or taste

no embarrassment, cuz I got nothing to cover despite precious time going to waste).

Analogous to constipation,

constitutes full term pregnancy, perhaps umpteenth or first, which former offal bodily function I durst

mention, said subject doth stink,

yet... exercising bowel applicative, constrictive, effective, exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,

massive, oppressive, qualitative, quantitative, significative and unitive

(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)

both scenarios prone to stress and strain,

difficulties can arise evacuating bowels gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,

radiating sharp stabbing sensations behind junk in trunk quarters felt

until bulging temple veins ready to burst,

where piles of hemorrhoids foul rectum tortured and accursed

necessitating Judas Priest well versed to issue last rites while

appropriate official dull livers worst

news to missus, whose inconsolable sympathies nursed,

nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow

honor alone time with grateful dead

subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,

privately newly minted widow mourning

tears for fears immersed

bemoaning sudden permanent absence

gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first

instance obliterated, when posterior

uproariously (actually not funny)

inflicted hemorrhage emergency,

die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced all expense chauffeured ride in hearst

aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable, courtesy hearsay, when hypothetical woman with child,

(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)

as maven ready to take aim giving birth

(nine months after satiating

hankering call of the wild buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,

and temporarily appeased

inherent maternal yearning

to beget offspring, then... off to races

sprinting at greased lightning speed

amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,

(among other fledgling and/or practiced moms avid runners

all touted as winners relay race crossing

finish line simultaneously

comprising distance measuring more'n verst.

[yourkingmob]

Waltorious Maximus Lambeth (1950-2014)

“Lo, there do I see my father. / Lo, there do I see my mother, / and my sisters, and my brothers. / Lo, there do I see the line of my people, / Back to the beginning!

Lo, they do call to me. / They bid me take my place among them, / In the halls of Valhalla! / Where the brave may live forever!”

I remember the first time I met Walt. He invited me out to train at his Dojo, firing out the same invite that he gave to QBone some time before, concluding the email with "Things start at 1pm around on sundays. If you get lost: p/c to Osaekomi/Mr. Lamb (313) xxx-yyyy."  I walked into an old barn, with a stout looking Judoka talking someone through a kata garuma as classic rock played on the boom box in the corner.  He welcomed me in, a long haired lanky mofo in wrestling shoes and a Champion shirt like I belonged there, and then promptly fed me to the wolves.

That was the first of many lessons from Walt: how to get through that gut check, take a pounding from the aces and still present some game against the droogs and come back for more.

Walt stood as the head of Metro when I was there, not taking as a direct hand in instruction as Q did, but he still took time to tighten up my classical judo: how to drop right underneath to hit the drop seoi properly, how to switch out into combination to o-soto and how to do the belt-pin from north south. He also gave me tons of tips on how take my wrestling and further combine it with judo, since he had done much the same with Q.

He showed me the roughneck side of judo too: how to growl in your opponent's ear while trying to turn someone over for a pin and then pretend that mate was called and hit the collar choke when they peek up at the ref.  He also taught me how to pop the head up under the chin when chasing a single leg, or how to drive the side of your head into someone's nose when attacking with a kouchi or ouchi-gari.

He also taught me that "Mutual Welfare and Benefit" sometimes meant a cooler full of Heineken after hours of hard randori and shooting some bull over some brews.

Finally, he also taught me to put away the childish boy-band that was The Beatles and learn that there was a Rolling Stones before Mick met Bowie, and it was loud, shaking, gritty and roughneck... just like Walt.  While many of us were from a generation far after him, he still enjoyed rocking out to the rock bands we listened to like Buckcherry.  He drank up life and stoked the fire beneath his crew of champions he had gathered.

Besides being a teacher, Walt had his humorous side.  His sense of humor was infectious and oversized, like his generosity.  So many times, I'd get some sort of off-color joke sent to me in email, some bit of cheesecake or inappropriate anecdote sent to my email, I had to make sure I didn't open his emails at work. Otherwise, while my boss was looking over my shoulder, there'd be some huge breasted amazon on my screen.  His jokes and made up stories about "little itchy" always had me smirking.

In many ways, Walt was a viking skald, a story teller of great skill and deftness. His countless stories of growing up doing judo and putting the lumps on a bully turned presidential candidate, high school as a greaser and trouble-maker, his college years as Big Ten judo champion in 1972 and getting in brawls with his roommates, all told in his boisterous, jovial manner.  I looked forward to his emails regaling us on some wild exploit or crazy situation he found himself waist deep in, in the crazy adventure that was his life.

While Walt was loud and rough edged, he was also incredibly kind, open and generous.  Metro wasn't exactly a self sustaining money generating endeavor.  We all did our parts to pay into the club what we could and donate gear to keep the team equipped, but it was Walt who was keeping the thing rolling, getting us the mat space, organizing travel even getting sponsors for the Droogs roll out to Grappler's Quest, something that made the 'Metro Fight Club' name legendary outside of Michigan.  He also welcomed all comers.  I remember early on, when I brought my partner in crime Ick with me, he greeted him by picking him up in a fireman's carry and doing squats with him.   While I was struggling through university, he helped me score an Adidas gi so I could compete in the Great Lakes and when one of my friends accidentally ended up with a gi bottom that he borrowed, Walt just told him to keep it.  Anytime anyone needed just a little push or some help, Walt was there to keep things moving.

Waltorious Maximus Lambeth, you were a giant among men and you will be forever remembered for your kindness, humor and knowledge. With your helmsman ship, your droogs became feared and respected far and wide, all while making us feel like we were part of the best rock band ever.  I am honored to even have met you, let alone be called one of the droogs and deemed worthy of rank.

You are terribly missed, droog.

Until Valhalla,

[notastraykid]

Okay so some people have asked about Z. So below the cut is the story of Zeusimus Maximus.

May be triggering? But happy ending, right?

He's a failed foster. I am a failure.

One of my good friends who I sing with is an animal welfare inspector (RSPCA). I have many, many animals. I think 9 pets at the last count. A lot of them are due to her.

Anyway she posted a plea in group chat in February and asked if anyone can foster this poor boy as she didn't want him in kennels.

He was found in an abandoned house surrounded by his waste. He has been eating... Stuff... that he could find in the house.

The owner claimed that he wasn't starved, he was going back to the house every day to feed him (uh huh) and he's thin because he is ~old. I mean there is more to the story but I'm not privy to say. They claim he has been there for about 2 weeks.

Anyway. I saw the photos and cried. I sent the photos to my boss and she cried. She loves dogs more than life and she knows I adore them, too.

She said I could bring him into work every day to care for him and if anyone complained she would overrule them. It was just until he got better and rehomed. He was really poorly. He didn't even have the strength to keep his wee wee in it's sleeve and had to always wear a coat in case people thought I was mistreating him. Also... The cold.

Now. I'm allergic to dogs and cats. But for some reason, I'm fine with Z. Is it a sign? I don't know. Not complaining.

So he was getting his weight back on, coming out of his shell, acting like a puppy. Every time someone brought up interest of taking on ownership I sobbed like a bitch. Like, snotty, face swelling, disgusting sobs.

A private work chat happened behind my back and they all agreed he could be the office support dog and that he was good for my bad mental health. If he got too old the boys would carry him upstairs to my office. My boss has set up a 'trust fund' for any vet bills. They knew that work was the only reason I couldn't keep him. He is just adored by all who meets him so of course they wanted me to keep him.

He sleeps under my desk on a orthopaedic bed and snores like a bull. Constantly hungry, I don't know how to change his eating habits. To be fair though, he can eat as much as he wants. I'll not deny him.

Z was 16kg in the first pictures. Boxer dogs are supposed to be around 25 to 30kgs. He was 23kg at last weigh.

He is more or less deaf and can only hear my whistles. When he moves for the first time after sleeps, he shakes his whole body from front to back. Know he has his.. Ahem.. Balls. So they make clacking sound when he shakes and his back legs look like he is Irish dancing. I wish I could capture it on a video. If I ever do, I'll post it.

He is so nosy and any open car door is an invite for him to take a seat. Busses and vans? He gets excited and look in all the windows. When it comes to walk time, he gets so excited he freaks out and tries to find a toy to take with us. Most of the time I can't get it out of his mouth so it comes with.

The identity chip tells me that he is 13 in September. The oldest these dogs live to is time 16 so he will have the best last few years with me.

He is like my shadow. I've lost my free time to this dog. I can't go anywhere or do anything because I have to look after him or can't leave him too long. He won't let me sleep in... He wakes up so early..! And as an insomniac, any sleep I get is precious. He is always eating and I am always on a diet or hungry.

I tell you what though, I wouldn't have it any other way.

[happyspookysteamer]

Iron Bovines! Part 1

So now I finally finished! Had a busy week and didnt really get around to drawing, but now I'm done and happy with the results!

@ohjeeztrains once mentioned that steam engines resemble bulls alot and I took it to heart😂

Maximus 29 belongs to @ohjeeztrains , I liked drawing him, it was alot of fun, he comes off as a typical Bull, big and soft but wont hesitate to put you in your place, but also likes scratches and treats

Leonhard the Bavarian G5/5. This class was nicknamed the Bavarian bull since he was considered the most powerful of his kind in Germany, designed to tackle the grades in northern Bavaria. He my best boi. Leo lives in the alps though so he is sporting typical festive "Almabtrieb" attire❤

Dont think I need to explain.

This is a Toby, seen here sitting with a lost stranger in the middle of nowhere

[ohjeeztrains]

Maximus; the Reliable Old Bull, always determined and won't be defeated

[grimini]

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Fucking Awesome!

commission for @ohjeeztrains of their character maximus !!

[stavrosskundromichalis]

Robot action continues!

Went with a more old school style on this battle scene involving Transformers G1-characters Fortress Maximus, Scorponok, Apeface, Razorclaw, Prowl and Horri-Bull

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Three: If We Have Each Other.

~When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine. I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand. You should know I'll be there for you. I will always be there for you~

"Dude, we are in some serious jelly," I proclaimed as I paced around the small perimeter of the tree house.

"And that jam!" Isaac added from where he remained sitting at the table.

"Tight spot."

"Indeed!"

"Up a tree!" I supplied.

"Lost in the grass!" He offered. I swung around, shaking my finger at him.

"I'll tell ya what's grass, our- AAH FRACKLES!"  I had stepped on a stray nail in one of the floorboards. Hobbling my way back into my chair, I thunked my head against the table.

"But look at the bright side." Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as how our grand-theft-hairbrush is going viral and all, there is still a chance that me flipping the camera off could become a meme!" He pointed out. Slowly, I raised my head to stare at him.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Consider it, Marty! All it took was five years being dead and now I'm finally fulfilling my life-long dream! If I'd known it was this easy, I would have killed myself a long time ago and spared me all that drama and emotional damage," Isaac smirked. I shook my head, my gaze drifted back to the Vader figure and snow globe sitting side-by-side on the shelf.

"Please don't talk like that Isaac," I sighed. Isaac's face fell.

"Sorry, I-I wasn't thinking," He apologized. I nodded.

"It's okay." It wasn't, but what more could be said when you didn't want to speak?

"Hey," Isaac spoke softly, ducking his head to get me to look at him, "Even if things go sour, I'm gonna be here for you. Just like I promised. Through thick and thin, remember?"

"Through thick and thin."

Smiling weakly, I repeated our life long mantra. I took a deep breath and focused back in on the problem.

"Alright, man. We gotta figure out a game plan. That video is gonna bring every hunter and their mom up here to ice our, or my, gluteus maximus. And if they know about the minimart then they know about the hospital. So, what's our play?"

"Well, I say you use your Sweet-Talkin' thing and talk any o'those alcoholic weirdos out of it," Isaac suggested. I shook my head.

"Isaac, you know how much I hate doing that."

Although it was a tempting idea, that wasn't something I wanted to mess with. If you start playing with the dark things, the dark things start playing with you. That wasn't a concept I liked, but Isaac would never understand that.

"I'm just saying it’s an option! And an easy one at that," Isaac pushed. I glared at him.

"I'm not doing that."

"It might come to it, Marty. I'm just saying as a plan C it-"

"The answer is no! Moving on." My tone killed and buried the subject. Isaac raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine. But misinformation is still our strongest tool. We should use it. Tell anybody who asks that it was all done on a computer," He conceded.

"Alright, that's plan A. What's plan B?"  Isaac's face twisted in thought. I let him do any and all planning when it came to telling a lie because he was so much better at making it convincing than I was. Isaac was the king of spouting believable bull crap. In fact, he would have made and excellent demon. That guy could probably get an angel to sell its soul for a box of holy doughnuts. When the idea hit Isaac's brain, I could almost see a light bulb light up above his head. He leaned forward, exited.

"Okay, I got it. We make up some BS story about a gay black dude who got chopped up by the ferry or something and the hospital wouldn't help him because all the doctors were racist homophobes, and it was the 50's." He nodded at me very seriously. Like I said, Isaac was king.

"That's is the worst, most ridiculous and stupid story I have ever heard," I told him. Isaac's nodding grew more excited. "It's perfect. They'll buy every word. Just one thing though, what about the mini-mart?" I pointed out.

Isaac opened his mouth before closing it again. Then he opened it. Then he closed it. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. This happened several more times before he finally came up with something good.

"So, our gay black guy was also a nice hobo dude and after he died he started stealing crap to give to his hobo buddies." Isaac gave me a thumbs up. I nodded.

"Okay, sounds good, sounds good. How do we explain me?" I splayed my hands. Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back again and tucking his hands behind his head.

"Well, that’s easy. The camera never even caught a glimpse of your face, so you're his anonymous theft buddy slash item distributer!" He explained. I grinned at my fantastic phantasmal co-conspirator.

"Excellent, and of course nobody knows who the thief is. Especially not, innocent little me!" I chuckled at his brilliance.

"Exactly!" Isaac smirked.

"It's perfect! Except one last thing. We're gonna need some eyes and ears in on this. Someone to alert us when someone fishy comes lurking about," I said. Isaac nodded seriously.

"You're right. But who can we trust around here?" He asked. I could feel the smile split across my face.

"I can think of only one man for this job. A man as trustworthy as he is slimy. A man scrubbed clean by his own filth. A man so wonderful, words do him no justice!" I declared dramatically. Isaac was confused for a moment before realization dawned. His face fell.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I think I am." I grinned. Isaac just sighed.

"Marty, no."

"Marty, yes!"

- 45 minutes later-

"Yo! Danny, my man! How's life?" I called out. Dan-the-Dope-Man looked up from...whatever it was he was doing outside Copper Harbor's one and only pharmacy. The pharmacy which he, in fact, owned. Honestly, I didn't want to know exactly what he had been doing behind the pile of cardboard boxes that were stacked up against the moldy brick. I figured it was better if I didn't. Dan smiled a grin that was missing two teeth.

"Marty! My worst customer and only friend! Life's good!" He greeted me, kicking a few of the boxes over to hide whatever suspicious activity it was that he had been up to. He winked and walked over to me, pushing his absolutely disgusting blond hair out of his face. "But, you know, business is betta'," He concluded.

I could never tell how tall Dan was, in this form especially. See, Dan-the-Dope-Man was a shapeshifter, though of course, no one else in the town knew that. That's how he was the owner of the pharmacy as well as a drug dealer. His other form, Jonathan De’ Santos, was the tall, 40-year-old, honest-looking Hawaiian man that ran the pharmacy. In this form, however, Dan was a somewhere-in-the-upper-five-foot-range Caucasian guy from Brooklyn with a thing against bathing. He said that the grungy, sewer-rat look was better for his side business. I wasn't sure how much of that I bought, but then again, who's gonna buy drugs from the guy who's supposed to make sure you don't destroy yourself with them.

"I bet it is!" I said, taking a step back when he reached me because, like I said, the guy had a thing against hygiene.

"This is a terrible, terrible idea," Isaac muttered, leaning on the wall to my left. I couldn't reply to him because although Dan knew what I was he didn't know about Isaac. So all I could do was give him a rude gesture behind my back. He saw it and stuck his tongue out at me.

"What can I do fo' ya, Marty?" Dan always pronounced my name as 'Mawty' at least in this form as it had a Brooklyn accent.

"Well, o' Danny boy, I have some rather bad news to deliver," I continued, "There might be some hunters coming to town soon."

Dan frowned; his eyes narrowed at me as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, that ain't good. Whatt'id ya do, Marty?" He asked. Sometimes Dan could be like my older brother, even if he didn't realize it.

"Woah, woah, woah! Who said I did anything?!" I defended. Dan just raised an eyebrow.

"You're always showin' off and ya know it," He said simply.

"He's right, you know," Isaac interjected. I wished I could tell him to shut his eidolic cake hole. It wouldn't have made much of a difference if I could, as he would still have continued talking, but the principle remained the same. Isaac was annoying. He needed to shut his mouth now and again. But I couldn't say that right now because he was a flipping ghost and ghosts are invisible. Mostly.

Ignoring Isaac, I opened my mouth to try to argue with Dan but quickly closed it again when found that I couldn't, because he was absolutely right. Now, I couldn’t admit that to him because Isaac was right here and that would be saying that he was right about something, and that was a thing I would never hear the end of.

"In regards," I started again.

"You'd just say 'regardless'," Isaac chimed in. I had to physically bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him to shut up.

"Regardless," I corrected. Isaac chuckled. I really needed to get myself some iron gauntlets or something so I could give his apparitional arse an involuntary appendectomy. Or just an iron ring so I could punch him in the face.

"Regardless, it wasn't me. This time. It was some attention seeking moron with a computer. That combined with my little hospital trips and you get something fishy looking." I finally managed to finish my sentence without Isaac chiming in.

"Well then ya betta' keep ya head down, Marty. I don' wan' ya gettin hurt." A dark look crossed over Dan's usually upbeat face. "Or worse," He finished.

"I know Danny, which is why I need you to do something for me," I said. Isaac sighed and face palmed but I ignored it.

"What?" Dan asked.

"I need you to watch out for any newcomers asking weird questions. I've got a plan if any hunters get too close to us, I just need to know who and where they are," I told him.

See, the pharmacy, the mini-mart, the bar, and the barber shop all sat across from each other at a four way intersection. Thus, Dan would have an excellent view of any hunter's first two targets. The origin of the supernatural activity, in this case the mini-mart, and the bar. He would be the perfect spy. Dan looked at me strangely.

"Say, Marty, you ain't plannin' on gankin' any a' dose' suckas' now are ya?" He asked, caution evident in his voice. I sighed, shaking my head internally. This was just another downside of being what I was. Everybody thinks you're a murderer. Though I knew I was far from innocent, I had never killed anyone. At least, anyone who didn't deserve it.

"Come on, Danny. In all the time you've known me, have I ever, er, ganked anyone?" I asked him, spreading my hands as if to catch the obvious answer.

"Well, no. But people can change," Dan pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"Dan, I'm not gonna kill anyone. There, ya happy?" I said, only mildly aggravated. Isaac decided it was time to speak up again.

"You may not. But I will. If it comes to that. I won't let anybody hurt you, Marty. Not again. Not when I can do something about it."

I knew he was saying this now so I wouldn't be able to argue with him. Then I would forget and if he did kill someone Isaac would say he'd said he would. I ground my teeth together and reminded myself that it wasn't going to come to that. I wouldn't let it.

Meanwhile, Dan thought about what I'd spoken aloud.

"Yeah okay, but if anybody comes sniffin' I'm skippin', kay?" He agreed. I nodded.

"Okay, take care of yourself, Danny."

"You too, Marty." I smiled at him and began to walk away. Isaac pushed himself off the wall and trudged behind me, complaining loudly.

"Make sure you take care of yourself too, Issac! I'd hate myself if anything happened to you, Isaac! I wouldn't be able to survive without you, Isaac! Thanks Marty, your friendship means everything to me!" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Ugh! Why do I even bother?"

I smirked giving him the sign for 'I love you' behind my back.

"Aw shut up!"

But I knew he was smiling.

~So, I'm thankful for my sister even though sometimes we fight When high school wasn't easy, she's the reason I survived. I know she'd never leave me and I hate to see her cry. I just wanna tell her that I'm always by her side. I just wanna tell her that...

The worlds not perfect, but it’s not that bad. If we've got each other and that’s all we have I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you.

I will always be there for you.~

Lyrics from: If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin

[evolsinner]

⊱┊30

i don't need 'looking after'! i am perfectly capable of taking care of my own damn self. from the moment kayrem has walked back into our lives, he's been showing off. he's trying to prove his 'worth' to the family, and it's annoying the heck out of me!

first, he takes me away from isaac against my will, then he does this elaborate show of how much he still has an effect on me. i mean, the only reason i called him is that there was no one else to call!! and now he's brought a fucking dog for maxi? sucking up to father? it's not fair! he just doesn't get to be gone for this long and then have the easiest welcome back party.

i hate him!

after grumpily hopping out of the shower, i crash straight into bed. mum's doing overtime which means i'll get to see her first thing in the morning. this is good because i'm still figuring out what to say to her.

my parents always change roles, either one of them is too mad and the other is understanding or vice versa. so i guess she’s gonna be playing the ‘mad’ role tomorrow.

i slide out of bed and creep down the hallway, pausing at the source of the problem…in me.

"what are you doing?" i push the door further in.

without looking up from his crouching position, kayrem’s like, “the dvd player is jacked up. i'm tryna get it to work," and takes a gulp from his redbull.

"can't you wait till tomorrow to do it?"

"tomorrow can wait."

ugh, i never seem to make sense of his comebacks like these. just answer properly, jeez. "what are you tryna watch anyway?"

"get in the bed and you'll see," he grins.

the fuck? wait... i mean, i do kinda need to tell him something so..

"oh, and, shut the door. make sure to lock it too."

"'lock it'?" i stand there nervously.

"we don't want anyone walking in."

huh?

"if one of those scenes happen to come on," he adds like an afterthought.

"oh..." i shut the door and crawl into his bed, sitting up and crossing my legs. "why not just netflix and chill? that dvd player is pretty old; i don't think you can get it to work." i immediately shut my mouth, realising what i said could be taken the wrong way too.

he quits messing about with the player and looks over his shoulder at me with an amused frown, "huh?"

"i meant, like, watch a movie on the laptop. not..y'know. like, literally only a movie and nothing else."

"fine, i suppose you do have a point," he turns off the tv and dvd player before grabbing the laptop and climbing into bed with me. "fuck,” he taps away at the keys, “forgot it was flat.”

"can you just sleep with me instead?"

he raises his eyebrows, surprised.

"next to me! n~not with me!" i quickly clarify before laying down, all red and hot.

i hear the lid of the laptop shut, followed by a swift motion of a shirt being pulled off. the bed dips as a body lies down behind me. gradually, i feel warmth shifting closer to me and the smell of red bull breath. like magnets, we stick together. a hand weaves its way underneath my shirt and i tense up.

"relax," he coos.

his fingers trace over my mini love handles, nearing my belly button. i don't know if i want him to go higher or lower. slightly, i back up into him, rubbing my ass in circular motions on his dick. a grunt leaves his mouth, his hot breath hitting my nape. my respiration elevates and the follicles on my forearms stand up.

"sorry," i sigh.

"don't be. if you like it, keep doing it."

i back up into him further and rest my ass on his bulge. his hand goes higher, tracing the side of my boob, to my underboobs, then to the other side; forming a 'w' in the process.

"you're not wearing a bra.”

"..they're uncomfortable."

he slowly goes up the slopes of my boobs and runs his thumb over my tits, kneading them for a while. "you like this?"

"mhm.."

"how about this?" he skims his hand all the way down to the top of my panties.

i turn a little on my back and buck my hips up, desperately inching my body closer to his fingertips. he inserts his hand and goes past the stubble to reach my throbbing clit. now i can feel the pressure of his dick getting erect and also his hand on my pussy.

"here?" his finger hovers.

"y..yes.."

he tenderly presses down and a moan escapes my mouth.

"you're so sensitive, babysis," he whispers. "i haven't even started."

he rubs my button in a figure 8 which makes me squirm like a worm. his fingers slide in between my moist folds, massaging me, as they go back up again to torture my clit.

"kayrem, please, in..in me."

he puts his mouth next to my ear, "how many?"

"as many as you can fit.."

"on one condition, you have to call me by my middle name from now on, sis."

knots get created in my stomach. knots and crosses. clusters and ravels. memories and misery. no, this cannot be happening again. i was here to talk to him, not play with him.

"stop.”

"what?"

"lavanda," i pull his hand out, "i'm sorry."

he doesn't say anything, but i can tell he's not that happy. i turn to face him. he's lying on his back with an arm crossed behind his head, in a pensive mood. there's a sense of nostalgia dancing in his distant expression as he stares out the skylight. i cuddle up to him, laying an arm and a leg over his torso.

“missed my room,” he murmurs melancholically.

“yeah, think i liked it better as a guest room.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes. "…why did you come back, marie?"

"i have something to tell you."

he glances at me curiously with those hazel eyes. how can i get lost in them when i have the exact same colour? his other sleeveless arm lingers over the blanket. i shift closer to him so that my body gently presses into his. he’s warm.

"i'm pregnant."

nothing but tensive as hell silence fills the room.

finally, kayrem exhales loudly, his stomach deflating and my arm lowering with the motion. "why the fuck are you telling me that?" he shoves me away. "i don't care about the shit you do with him. i also don't appreciate you bringing his shit back here."

"your shit."

"what?" he faces me with a blank expression.

"it's yours."

he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

i sit up criss~cross applesauce. "that night when we did it, i..i haven't gotten my.." i clear my throat and start again. "i haven't gotten my..my.. ugh, sorry," i apologise, picking at my cuticles.

"it's okay. you can tell me. i’m your big brother," kayrem leans up on his elbow and stops me from fidgeting.

"i haven't gotten my period since. isaac said that he could deal with me being.." i gesture with my eyes to my tummy, "but he doesn't know that it's yours. and if he did, i don't know what he'll think of me. i just thought you should know before i did anything.”

“i..uhh…” kayrem scratches the back of his head. "do you know how far along you are?"

i shake my head.

"have you been to the doctors?"

i shake my head again.

"jesus, marie, have you done anything for it?"

no…

"i'm taking you to the docs tomorrow, i don't care," and he slumps back down.

"what, no!"

"you're going."

"i'm not!"

"like, hell."

"for fuck's sake!" i throw my hands up in the air. "i'm not keeping it, okay!”

he glares at me, trying to remain pragmatic, "i'm pretty sure this is the hormones talking, not you."

"don't you dare blame this on the hormones!"

"fine then," he spits out, "why even tell me all this when you could've gotten rid of it back there?! huh!?"

"because you had the right to know,” i murmur sadly.

he closes his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh, "you don't have to get rid of it because of how it came to be. it's selfish..heedless."

i shrug.

“if you’re worried about mother and father, don’t be. as long as i’m here, nobody can hurt you.”

yet he hurts me from simply uttering those weighty words.

"you can still give it up, but don't kill it.”

"we need to… incest and stuff. it’ll look like an alien.”

“incest or love?”

“i don’t love you, loser.”

“listen, we made the risk the moment we decided not to use..” he stops himself, clearly agitated. “anyways, the point is, marie, you're not a killer. you're nowhere close to being like him."

“what did you say?”

"nothing.”

“no, you said something, tell me.”

“dang it," kayrem rolls his eyes frustratedly. "i wasn't supposed to say anything till morning."

"what are you talking about?"

"hey," he grips my hand softly. "c’mon, let's go to sleep."

"no," i snatch my hand back. "i don't want you touching me right now."

he scoffs, "for real?"

i stare at him.

“whatever, get some sleep," and he turns on his other side, throwing the blanket over himself.

"i hate you, kayrem, i really do."

no answer.

i was about to leave his stupid room when the door sways open quietly.

"rosé, are you in here?" maxi's fragile voice wonders.

"buddy, what's up?" kayrem lifts his head up.

"wasn't talkin' to you," maxi mumbles.

"maxi, what happened?" i ask him.

"rosé," he says with relief when he hears my voice, "i..i had a nightmare and it was... it was..." he breaks into tears before having the chance to finish his sentence.

"naw, baby, come here," i hold my arms out.

"it was really scary!" he squeals and runs to me.

"it was just a nightmare, maxi, a bad dream," i console him, wiping his tears away. "it's not real. you have nothing to worry about, i promise."

"can i sleep with you guys, please?" he asks innocently.

“let’s go to my room, okay?”

"of course," kayrem grips my arm. "jump in, maximus. you can sleep in the middle, between me and marie."

"the... the house was on fire," maxi lays down, and i pull the covers over him. "i couldn't find you, rosé. i couldn't find mummy or daddy or kayrem too. when i looked out the window, i saw all of you standing there and smiling at me."

"jesus..." kayrem mutters.

"you know us, maxi," i sweep his locks to the side. "we would never leave you if the house was ever on fire. that wasn't us in your dream. they just looked like us."

"but you left me ~ twice, already."

i have trouble replying, sorta embarrassed, and give kayrem a glance.

"hey, bud, it was just a nightmare, alright?" he decides to step in for me. "nightmares can scare you, but they can't hurt you."

"see, you're safe with us," i add. "now go to sleep," i kiss him on the forehead. "kayrem and i will make sure the monsters can't come and get you."

"yeah, lil bro, your sister and i...we have our ways," he sends me a wink.

ew.

maxi nods, sobbing in my chest, and tries to fall asleep.

"what the fuck kind of movies have you been letting him watch lately?!" i hiss at kayrem.

"just an ep or two of supernatural," he informs me. "didn't think it'd be that bad."

"you didn't think..??" i shake my head in irritation. "you're such an idiot..!"

after 10 minutes or so, i can hear little snores coming from maxi.

kayrem puts his arm across maxi and rests the hand at the end of it on my waist. "kinda like seeing you like this," he whispers. "all protective of him. turns me on...a little."

i punch his shoulder, "nothing's gonna happen between you and i with him here. now shush, you're gonna wake him."

with my eyelids closed, the scent of red bull breath comes even closer, and before i know it, a pair of wet lips have enveloped over mine. i am caught a bit off guard because, like, our little brother is with us, and what if he wakes up? however, this doesn't seem to bother my big brother in the slightest.

there's something mellow about the kiss. it makes me feel safe and sound. i try not to make a sound or get lost in it, but i'm kinda losing it already. he tastes of sin, taurine and the colour red if red had a taste. he sticks his hand under my shirt, egging me on. we're both lowkey squishing burrito maxi in the process.

"fuck, stop, stop..!" i quickly retract.

"he's asleep," kayrem says calmly. "he ain't seein' nothin'," and attempts to find my lips again.

"i don't care. goodnight."

a moment later, kayrem snuggles his head inches away from mine and is like, "this could be us, you know. keep it, please.”

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

MAXIMUS!!!!!!! THE BIGGER BOY! So furry and soft! @ohjeeztrains beautiful big boy by @sodorsteam

SO @ohjeeztrains and i were talkin’ bout his monster engines and my teratomas and like… ‘WHAT IF WE SWITCHED BEASTS’ SO….

MAXIMUS TERATOFORM SKETCH HAPPENED!!

he’s like 40 feet tall and a shmillion tons of muscle and soft and he IS HERE TO PARTY RESPONSIBLY ON THE RAILS.