#oh to be a cheetah looking at the stars

[foxxteethh]

✨💫

Finished PWYW commission for @svenrin ! Really happy with how this came out 🐆

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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@khaylin27

[tan1shere]

Riding ellies face ! Cuz why not 😋

Warnings: well.. think about it, obviously smut my friendz ! Mdni. ENJOY WHORES 💋

Masterlist

◇ I definitely think this woman would BEG for you to sit on her face. Like no questions asked she'd just be like one day, maybe you're doing something, like a chore and she's just mesmerized, looking at your whole body and then she blurts out. "Can you please sit on my face?" Like so casually HELLO?

◇ and DUH you were doing it. Who could say no to her pretty face. Not to mention how good I just know her tongue is. I mean she's skilled in literally everything else what can't this woman do (date men) but once you agree she's most certainly picking you up and putting you over her shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom and plopping you down like you weigh nothing. She's eager alright. Eager.

◇ Ellie would waste no time into getting you undressed, she'd swiftly then lay on her back ready for you to suffocate her with your thighs. And drenched cunt (I fucking need this bitch in my life are you kidding me rn) She would grip them, forcefully making you giggle at how badly she wanted this.

◇ in the nicest way she'd MAKE you sit fully on her face. She'd enforce no hovering. Cuz this woman will eat you out like her life depends on it. "Please use me how you would a chair." ????? SAY NO MORE

◇ once you've gotten fully comfortable and taken Ellies word that you will not hurt her you sit down completely on her face, she will close her eyes for a sec enjoying the feeling of how warm it is, how the extra weight on her face and the taste turns her on even more. She's still gripping your thighs and she thrust her tongue into your weeping hole. God she is in heaven, and you're literally the angel that's sending her there.

◇ she moans into you at the taste she's indulging currently. She loves it, the feeling of being suffocated by her pretty wife. It's intoxicating to her and she could quite literally die happy as you fuck her face. She needed it all she needed to fully taste you as it runs down her throat. She wanted to make a smoothie so she could savor it forever.

◇ she will most definitely move her tongue EVERYWHERE. I just know her tongue is long ok don't even doubt it. She'd go from your tight hole to your clit so smoothly, like shes a lizard. Such an expert. She'd go from an in and out motion with her tongue, to keeping it in you for a sec moving it forwards and backwards, side to side. She'd do it all.

◇ she'd loveee the smell, considering her nose will be on your clit, creating more ecstasy for you. Shed have no shame into taking a big sniff. The smell, the taste, this girl's going into a frenzie.

◇ don't even get me started on how she's a fucking slut for your ass too. I JUST KNOW IT. She'd squish she'd smack she'd do everything. While grunting and make the most obscene noises into your heat it'd be unbearable. That's when you'll get closer. But she does one last thing that sends you over the edge.

◇ you know how she had her eyes closed at the start. They're wide open staring at you, most likely staring at your tits. But she wants eye contact. And if she doesn't get it she will slow down, she definitely doesn't want to, but you desperately need to cum so you look down at her, once she sees your eyes she will smirk against you speeding up to a pace only cheetahs can match. And oh boy that tongue is going fast. Making you see stars as you shoot that oh so yummy liquid in her mouth.

◇ she'd be the sweetest sweetheart afterwards, making sure you rest, massaging your thighs from sitting up straight for her. "You were so good for me." She'd say tiredly, lids half closed with a dumb smile, she's still thinking about it. She will dream about it. She was obsessed with you.

[anthroxlove]

(source)

The That’s So Raven star has come under fire for a clip that was filmed back in April 2021 – a year after actor Johnny Depp lost is “wife beater” libel case with his ex-wife Amber and The Sun newspaper. The resurfaced video shows Raven, 37, realise she’s parked next to Amber while in the car with her wife Miranda Maday. They are then seen couple thinking of ways to get her attention while mocking her reportedly abusive relationship with Depp. The Cheetah Girls star laughs as she says: “Cut my finger off and see if she'll claim it,” making reference to Johnny’s claim that his ex-wife cut his finger after throwing a bottle of vodka at him. The uncomfortable clip also shows Raven noticing that Amber is distressed as she points out: “Oh my god, she’s crying!” before Miranda chimed that she was “probably on the phone with her lawyer”. Elsewhere in the video, Raven made fun of the Aquaman actress’ then-girlfriend Bianca Butti, commenting: “There's Amber and her lesbian lover... oh my god. She looks like Johnny Depp!”

[spinnysocks]

incorrect lion guard as snapcube quotes

if you haven't watched snapcube then i'm sorry if this is really out of context LMAO but that's kinda the point :)

Makucha: See ya, cheetah!

Fuli: Huh? He's faster than Fuli. He's faster than Fuli. What?

Janja, annoyed: What is it this time Ushari?

Ushari: Janja, you found my You're A Bitch Degree!

Janja, after one of Scar's meetings: ...Something just happened.

Nduli: When was the last time you washed your paws? I haven't washed mine in four days. I've also been eating rocks-

Tamka: Rocks?! Nuh uh uh, that's not food!

Nduli: What about grass-

*Butterfly lands on Tamka's nose* Tamka: This is food Nduli!

Nduli: It's beautiful, I love your new hat! I'm gonna name him.. Mwamba!

*Butterfly starts flying away*

Tamka: You scared it away! :(

Nduli: Bye Mwamba! :)

Tamka: Bye Mwamba..

Janja: Hey, you know what this place looks like? Looks like the Pridelands! *starts singing Tonight We Strike*

Janja, to the skinks: Are you in on this conspiracy to?!

Shupavu: Everything is a conspiracy, haven't you ever seen the Circle of Life?

Janja: Wh-What?!

*waiting for Scar's meeting*

Reirei: Are we just doing this now? A bunch of assholes standing in a line? Congratulations!

Janja: Ah fuck, she got us there guys. Well.............

Ushari, while Janja's Clan are hysterically laughing: Alright, I think we need to figure out what we're going to do about this-

Kenge: It's not important that we lost! Look at who's responsible! *points at Janja*

Janja, pointing up: I'll point at you also.

Kenge: I'm not the sky, hyena.

Janja: We're doing Nne's plan? We're all agreeing that Nne came up with this right?

Cheezi: Yeah... 2, 3, 4, 5, 6- Here we go! :D

Janja to Reirei: Sorry that sounded like I wanted to kill you, I didn't mean that. *whispering to everyone else* I do wanna kill her don't fucking tell- I don't wanna kill you, don't worry! I wanna kill her so fucking bad! I didn't say anything to them just now. You know what I said! I-I gotta go, uh, think about some stuff!-

*Battle for the Pridelands in a nutshell*

Scar: Heyyyyy~ What's uppppp?~ It's meeeeeeeee~

Kion: STOP! >:(

Scar: I don't know how to impress upon you that you cannot defeat me.

The Guard: Kion!

Scar: Oh, your friends are here!

The Guard: We're here to help you!

Scar: It's really cute that you're going to defeat me with the power of friendship and all, but then again I am Scar from the Lion King, so-

Kion: You didn't let me finish, Scar!

Scar: Mhm, go ahead.

Kion: I have-

Scar: Yes, yes, yes, yes. I don't care. I do not care! You don't understand. I came back here to destroy the Pridelands. This means nothing to me! Alright? You mean nothing to me! You and your little friends are fucking annoying! This is why I stayed down in lion hell. This is why I punish Pridelanders. I'm the good guy! Do you not realise? I am the good guy here! I am the true King of the Pridelands! Mufasa goes up and he plays with all his little friends like "Oh look, are you watching over the Pridelands?" Yeah, whatever. Fuck everybody.

Kion: Ah!

Scar: I get to kill people! I get to command my army all day! It's great, give me the Pridelands! You don't get it. You watch your stupid little privileges. Fuck you. Idiot.

*The Guard yells*

Scar: Go to hell! *makes the volcano erupt* Look, I can do this! Anytime I want! This is nothing to me! You are nothing to me! I hate you! I HATE YOU! THIS IS MY BIG FUCKING VOLCANO!

Bunga: Oh my god, he's fucking losing it entirely!

Chungu & Cheezi: All around me are familiar faces, work out places, worn out places- IS THAT WHAT A HOUSE LOOKS LIKE? Oh my stars! This place is amazing! Where am I, the Pridelands?...... Worn out places~ (thanks to @devilsrecreation for that one 😭)

feel free to reblog with additions, there's too many quotes to put in here </3

[littlemisspascal]

Part 1: Hello, My Name Is...

Summary:

“Hey.” A hand lightly grabs onto your elbow just as you turn to leave. You turn back, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at Javi’s proximity, that same soft look in his gaze. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I think we’ll make a great team.”

It takes a second for the words to register and when they finally do—

Oh.

You nod your head, smiling wide, a surge of excitement washing over you. “Me too, Javi. Me too.”

Pairing: eventual Javi/Fem!Reader "Oddball" (OFC)*

Word Count: 7000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Formula One AU ft. multiple Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe characters, Human AU, Canon Divergence, Switching POVs, Worldbuilding, Social Media Fic, Headlines inspired by true events but edited for this plot, Slowest of Slow Burn, Language

Author Note: So excited to begin the next arc of this story & for Javi and Odds to finally meet 😊 Thank you everyone who's given this series a chance, I appreciate all of you!

Winter Banners credit here!

A03 Link | Series Masterlist

*see series masterlist for more info

[Collection of sticky notes pasted on bathroom mirror in your handwriting]

It’s a beautiful day

Remember to smile!

Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

[A new note with hastily scribbled words is added to the bunch]

I can handle this

There are many perks which come with being an F1 driver besides being paid to do what you love. Getting to travel across the world nine months out of the year; 5-star hotel accommodations; free clothes and accessories to represent your team from head to toe. But your brand-new Vulpecula GT is the gift that keeps on giving, especially when the cold winds of winter blow into Altair, dropping the temperature significantly. What would have been a miserable journey on your bike to HQ is a pleasantly warm and comfortable trip in your beautiful silver baby with padded leather seats.

You may or may not press a kiss against the steering wheel after parking, your heart growing just a little bit larger to accommodate this wonderful treasure.

The clock chimes nine as you step through the entrance doors, letting out a relieved breath when the heat of the building melts away the chill that nipped at your exposed face on your short walk up the pathway. You’d been a nervous wreck this morning, rifling through your closet for an outfit that was professional yet warm at the same time. Vivian had explicitly told you no when asked if hoodies or sweatshirts counted as business attire which meant your options were frustratingly few. 

You tug on the collar of your turtleneck sweater, then spare a subtle glance down at the rest of your outfit, praying there aren’t any toothpaste stains anywhere. Once on your crotch area during your high school years was embarrassing enough to live through.

It’s been awhile since you’ve felt this level of nervousness before. The kind of nervousness where your fingers can’t stop fidgeting and your heartbeat resembles a dull roar of thunder and time has two speeds: a cheetah or a snail, no in-betweens. You wish you had someone to distract you from your spiraling thoughts. Your friends, your parents, even Diana would be welcome despite her usual method of making you do squats or jumping jacks or another equally annoying exercise. 

You’ll have Vivian as one familiar face during the meeting at least. You’re on good terms with the older woman, admiring how she can switch aspects of her personality from friendly and wisecracking to fierce and competitive on the spur of the moment. She’s been patient with you during your journey to this point, and now that you’re here, an official driver for her team, you want to make her proud. You want to silence any possible doubts that all the time, energy, and funding spent on you weren’t gigantic wastes. 

Photographs of past Vulpecula drivers line the white hallway walls as you head to the conference rooms, footsteps echoing off the concrete tiled floor. The images remind whoever sees them of the team’s long history and its accomplishments. For some viewers they stir feelings of nostalgia, but for you they fill you with the desire to become a part of the Vulpecula legacy. To one day see your picture hanging there and maybe, if you’re lucky enough, a championship trophy in your hands.

Inside the main meeting room you discover a small group already seated at the long wooden table taking up the majority of the space. Vivian’s at the front, some executives and engineers you vaguely recognize meeting once or twice sitting on either side of her; then there’s the pit crew chief, Melshi, and the number one mechanic, Cassian, sitting side by side, attached at the hip just like they are in the paddock garage during race weekends. 

Vivian stands up and pulls you into a bear hug when you draw closer, her favorite greeting style, squeezing you so tight you swear you hear your ribs groaning like they’re on the verge of snapping. She’s in high spirits, smiling widely and looking mere seconds away from bouncing up and down with giddy excitement. 

“I have such a good feeling about you two,” she says, never one to beat around the bush, hands squeezing your shoulders once, twice, and then bobbing her head affirmatively. “2023 is going to be a great year, I just know it.”

Her positive vibes are contagious, bringing a smile to your own face that lingers even as you take a seat and notice for the first time the last empty chair remaining is right across from you. Clearly it’s meant for Javi. The seating chart most likely designed to force you and him to talk to each other.

And there’s that nervousness again, back with a vengeance.

It’s just…meeting Javi, officially face to face, right here in the beating heart of your career, makes everything seem overwhelmingly real all of the sudden. You’re an F1 driver. You’ve made it. Everything you’ve done, all the blood, sweat, and tears have brought you to this moment. You’re half-tempted to pinch yourself, one last test to confirm this isn’t all an elaborate dream.

You can blame the chill that runs down your spine on the weather, but it’s not so easy to explain away the heavy weight settling in your stomach like a stone.

The door opens, thoughts falling silent as you look up to meet brown eyes.

“Javi!” Vivian calls out, standing and gesturing him over. “Come on in, don’t be shy. Everyone’s excited to finally meet you.”

The man steps further into the room, flashing a dimpled grin that leaves you a little stunned. You thought it before, a couple months back in the paddock, and you think it again now: Javi is even more attractive when seeing him in person. He could have easily been a model in another life—warm brown eyes resembling melted caramel when the light hits just right, a strong nose and chiseled jawline, disheveled curls giving the impression he just rolled out of bed and yet somehow he makes the look work. Plus, nobody should look as immaculate as he does in a black puffer jacket and matching trousers. 

Your eyes follow him, watching Vivian introduce him to everybody, handshake after handshake, polite nice to meet you’s falling off his lips and do your ears deceive you or does he actually sound sincere? He wears an easy smile, if perhaps a little nervous looking around the edges (or maybe that’s wishful thinking), shoulders drawn back and brow pinched in concentration as he engages in conversation with the higher-ups. A professional, that’s what he looks like. And you? You’ve just realized your socks don’t match.

The age gap of five and half years suddenly seems massive between you and Javi. You have a lot of growing to do, a lot of learning, and not just when you’re behind the wheel of the car. It takes all your self-restraint not to slump down in your chair with the desire to disappear from view.

Finally, after his introductions to Cassian and Melshi have wrapped up, it’s your turn. Brown eyes momentarily pin you in place, body glued to the leather seat, and you think your heartbeat can be heard by the whole room, seconds away from bursting out of your chest and making a bloody mess on the tabletop. 

He steps closer, grin widening, as warm and bright as fireworks during New Years, and says, “Oddball.”

The sound of your name jerks you out of your daze, standing up so fast you nearly send your chair toppling over. You wince at the loud noise, embarrassment flooding your system. Somewhere from the other end of the table, someone (probably Cassian, the jerk) barely conceals their snort of laughter behind a cough.

It’s just shy of mortifying.

Javi doesn’t stop smiling. Doesn’t laugh, either. The only change is his eyes—a subtle softening with an emotion you’d label as fondness if you actually, like, knew the man. Since you’re barely even acquaintances though, you’re uncertain what the look means. If it even means anything at all.

You run your hands over the front of your turtleneck, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles, and fumble for words that won’t make you sound like a complete idiot. “Yo.”

Wonderful. You’ve made it officially mortifying now. 

He chuckles and holds out a hand. “It’s great to meet you.”

Growing up, one of your father’s life lessons was how to give a proper handshake. First impressions are important, he’d always say, and every night you’d practice until it became second nature: keep it firm, keep it dry, and keep it short. Also a smile goes a long ways.

“Yes it is.” Your eyes widen. “Oh, no, that’s not—I meant, it is great, like, in general!” you say hastily, dropping his hand and doing some sort of childish thumbs up gesture you immediately regret. “Great to meet you! Like you said. Face to face finally. It’s super…great.”

You’re honestly beginning to think you’ve been cursed to forever make a fool of yourself in front of Javi.

“Well said, Odds. Well said,” Vivian laughs. She gestures for Javi to take the empty chair you’d predicted was his. “We’ve just got a few things to discuss, some dates to go over. Then we’ll take a couple of photos and both of you will go on with your day, alright? Oddball, sim work as usual. Javi, a tour to get you familiar with the place.”

“Sounds great,” Javi agrees. 

You just give a wordless nod, sitting down again and avoiding looking up from the very interesting grooves in the wood even when Javi tries to catch your eye across the table. Embarrassment clings to your skin, teeth worrying your bottom lip. Your anxiety has always been a fickle beast, refusing at the worst of times to be pushed to the back of your mind where you’d prefer it to be. 

Vivian’s talking, saying something about data and statistics, but between your rampant insecurities and Javi’s nearness, it’s a hopeless cause paying her any attention. If there’s anything really important being said you’re sure someone else will repeat it later or pass the info on to your manager. So in the meantime, your gaze flicks between the table and your fiddling hands in your lap, leg bouncing a restless rhythm, riding out the anxious wave until it’s over and calmness returns. It’s fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

When it’s time for photos, Vivian stands in-between you and Javi, arms thrown enthusiastically around your shoulders. You smile at the line of people with their phones out, looking like a room full of proud parents taking pictures of their kids’ first day at school, and you realize for Javi, that’s exactly what this is. Day one in a brand new town in a brand new place with brand new people. For all your teammate’s experience and skills on the track, he severely lacks your knowledge and familiarity of Vulpecula. 

Which means you both have some learning to do. And that is a surprisingly gratifying thought.

“Hey.” A hand lightly grabs onto your elbow just as you turn to leave. You turn back, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at Javi’s proximity, that same soft look in his gaze. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I think we’ll make a great team.”

It takes a second for the words to register and when they finally do—

Oh.

You nod your head, smiling wide, a surge of excitement washing over you. “Me too, Javi. Me too.”

Vulpecula HQ is massive, a labyrinth of hallways and offices and staircases Javi knows will take him weeks, possibly months to memorize. But it becomes abundantly clear during his tour with Vivian—a CEO who’s blunt, loud, and so totally unlike his previous team principals he can’t help but marvel at her—that should he ever find himself lost, there will always be someone nearby to point him in the right direction. 

People here actually seem to care about each other. About him, even, and they’ve only literally just met him. They talk to him like he’s a person, not a driver or pawn to manipulate. Ask him how he’s settling in, what he likes to do in his free time, if he has any holiday plans. They seem genuinely interested in his answers too, not politely faking it out of professional courtesy like they did at Triple Frontier and Crane. At Black Gold the staff only cared about his hobbies if they negatively affected his results, telling him to quit them if they did. And back then, young and eager to please, he obeyed every command without question, no matter the personal sacrifice.

It’s…nice to be heard for a change. If he’s honest, he thought it would be a struggle to connect with Vulpecula. Oddball is the rookie on the grid, but around here Javi’s the newbie at the lunch table. A newbie who just last month was their competition. The warm welcome by a building full of strangers was an unexpected, but pleasant surprise. It has made the nervous knot of tension in his chest loosen for the first time since he signed his contract, replacing it with a budding sense of belonging he’s never felt during his years in F1.

And as for Oddball—she’s the biggest surprise of all, he thinks. She’s got more layers than an onion. He’s seen her own personal videos, how she acts around her friends and the press, never did he anticipate her to be shy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, no. He actually found himself rather endeared by her awkward fumbling, like witnessing a baby horse learning to stand up on wobbly legs. It’s just…he’s a little unsure how their relationship will progress from here. Her determination to avoid eye contact with him wasn’t exactly inspiring.

She’d smiled at him at the end, at least. Bright and excited and so very, very young. Me too, Javi. Me too. 

He doesn’t know much about Vulpecula yet, doesn’t know what the future will bring either, but what he does know from personal experience is that teammates who can get along with each other have better seasons than those who don’t. And if he can be a good teammate for Oddball and vice versa, then he thinks there’s no reason why they can’t maybe one day be good friends as well.

SPORTS: THE VROOM ZONE

Exclusive: Ahsoka Tano Discusses Formula 1’s Heavy Toll on Mental Health

By Poppy Adams | December 5, 2022

 In a city of dome-roofed, adobe buildings all the same shade as the encompassing sandy desert, Ahsoka Tano is just as instantly recognized by her white-and-blue dyed hair here as she was in the F1 paddock six years ago. Remembered fondly by the racing community for her sharp moves on the track and even sharper tongue in the media pen, Tano has settled down in Mos Espa (a favorite spot for retired and current F1 drivers alike) and enjoys a peaceful life after successfully securing the world champion title back in 2016 she’d been chasing since she was a youngling.

I meet with her at the Mos Espa Grand Arena, the site of several world-famous races from pods to swoop bikes, but most importantly to the present company, it’s also where the Mos Espa Grand Prix has been held annually for almost a hundred years. There are no events this week, no 100,000 fans screaming their lungs out in the stands. It’s just Tano, me, and two delicious cups of Deychin tea. 

Tano, dressed in a blue tank top and matching leggings, spares a moment to gaze at the starting grid below, no doubt remembering the days when she was down there looking up at where we sit now. “I’ll never forget it,” she says, tapping her temple with that famous crooked smirk of hers. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

The “ugly” side of F1 is why Tano and I are meeting this December afternoon. The Outer Rim native twice made history in the sport by being the second female driver to compete and also by being the second female driver to win a world championship title, but her rise to the top wasn’t an easy one. Looking back at old interview footage will show a young woman fearless of her competition and full of a passionate love for racing, but off-camera she was plagued by anxiety and insecurities. “It’s still a little hard to process at times. How some of my darkest moments are so deeply intertwined with some of the best years of my life,” she says. 

She tells me about the way she was encouraged to never let herself appear weak when cameras were around, “to maintain this image that I was invincible, the definition of confident.” In the aftermath of making mistakes on track, where every 10th of a second can determine where a driver ranks against their competition, Tano would spend hours worrying about the potential consequences on her career, if they would set off a domino effect ultimately leading to her downfall. “I would just keep on spiraling and spiraling deeper into this horrible pit,” she explains. “And I couldn’t tell anyone about it.”

When Tano sought out therapy at the end of 2015, she did so feeling burnt out and at the end of her rope. “I considered quitting racing. I talked with my manager about buying my way out of my contract and everything, but he convinced me to give therapy a chance first.” She smiles then, a beaming grin brighter than the overhead sun. “Thank the Maker I listened to him.” Therapy gave Tano the outlet she desperately needed, a place where she could “open up about my darkness and find the light again.” She returned to the grid in 2016 as a proud advocate for mental health awareness, breaking protocol by candidly discussing anxiety and depression during press conferences and on social media to her millions of followers. “I refused to be silent anymore,” she tells me. “The more I spoke up, the more people I impacted, the more acceptable a topic it became to hear about in the paddock.” Since Tano’s retirement, drivers continue to be inspired by her transparency and speak about their own fears and vulnerabilities, a development Tano hopes will continue for decades to come.

Recently Tano has begun planning to start a charity called Fulcrum devoted to helping people, especially athletes, with depression, anxiety, and other mental health related conditions. “It’s a slow process, but if I can help even one single person then all this hard work will have been completely worth the effort,” she says. In spite of the challenges she faced and the dark pits she had to mentally crawl out of, she remains thankful of her accomplishments and for everyone who supported her every step of the way. 

“Formula One is not for the faint-hearted. It’s constant pressure, constant eyes watching your every move, constant judgment and opinions,” Tano says. 

“Why compete then? Why stay in such a hostile environment?” I ask. 

Tano sips at her tea. Her eyes drift to the starting grid again, lips curling into a soft smile, an expression on her face I have a feeling not many can claim they have been fortunate to see.

“For every driver, there will come a moment when you’re driving down a straight at 200 miles per hour, preparing to brake for the corner up ahead, and all of the sudden, every thought fades from your mind. You’ll forget your training, your strategy. All that remains is pure instinct. And you’ll learn in that exact moment, in that fraction of a second, who you are and what you’re made of,” she says. “We compete for the fun of it. We stay to discover more about ourselves.”

The next time you see Javi is at simulator practice two days later. It’s still a bit of a jarring moment seeing him at HQ, even more so finding him dressed in cobalt blue racing gear while talking to one of the simulator operators. Maybe you’re a bit biased, but you can’t help admiring how much better he looks in Vulpecula’s colors than Triple Frontier’s.

You offer a timid smile when his gaze flicks your way, trying to keep your tone light rather than weak and shaky like the rest of you. “First time on the sim?”

He turns towards you, giving you his full attention in such an easygoing, yet intense way it does little to soothe your frazzled nerves. “That’s right. It’s really quite something. A lot bigger than I’m used to.”

“That’s what she said.”

There’s a beat of silence, just Javi staring at you wide-eyed like he can’t believe you quoted Michael Scott in front of him and you staring right back, unable to believe you quoted Michael Scott in front of him. And then, the moment dangling on that thin cusp between hilarity and mortification—a laugh bubbles up out of Javi’s throat, loud and infectious, and you’re both done for. Hysterically giggling like a pair of idiots, like it’s the funniest thing in the universe, like whatever remaining ice between you has officially and eternally been broken.

“Sorry,” you say finally, manic laughter fading into something lighter, friendlier than before. “I watch way too much TV.”

“Inconceivable.”

The familiar word elicits another laugh out of you. “You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means.”

Javi smiles, a radiant and genuine thing, nothing like the stiff, polite ones PR managers insisted drivers learn. “We should watch the movie together sometime. Maybe on our next day off, when this,” he gestures towards the simulator, “isn’t requiring all our time.”

“Think you’re ready for it?” you ask, and you’re surprised by the note of cheekiness slipping into your tone, because this easiness, this playfulness, you’ve only known it with Eggsy and Ben before. And that came after months spent together, after years of building a solid friendship week by week from the ground up—not this fast, not after only one previous meeting.

“Am I ready for it?” he replies, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re the rookie around here, no? Shouldn’t you be asking me for tips?”

Your good mood dims a little, thinking about the high number of crashes you’ve experienced these last few months. He’s right, even if he said it jokingly, that you should be asking him for tips. You could most likely learn a lot from him.

But your stubborn pride dismisses the notion with a scoff, reminding you that you didn’t come this far in your career by asking men for advice.

“Nuh-uh,” you say instead, crossing your arms and jutting out your chin. “I’ve got skills that’ll blow your mind.”

He leans forward, mirroring your pose, confidently rising to the unspoken challenge. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Prove it.”

Your lips mouth silent words, mind struggling to keep up with the verbal tennis match, ultimately coming up with an intelligent, “Huh?”

“You heard me,” is the swift reply, one eyebrow arching up pointedly. “I wanna see the legendary rookie Oddball’s skills. Impress me, rarita.”

In an effort to pretend his unwavering stare isn’t turning your mind to mush, you make an exaggerated show of rolling your eyes and swatting at his shoulder. “Challenge accepted, curls. Step aside and watch the master.”

Snorting, Javi obeys and goes to stand with the rest of the staff half-hidden behind an array of computer screens, who blessedly keep up their professional personas and pretend they haven’t been listening to your exchange. The chief simulator operator gives you a thumb’s up to get in the sim and you grab your spare helmet from the nearby shelf, feeling a pinch of nervousness ache inside your sternum. 

It’ll be fine, you think, positioning yourself in the simulator seat, hands grabbing the steering wheel. Just do your best.

~~

Your best is your best until it’s not. 

You start off well, braking and accelerating at precisely the right moments, the trees and bleacher stands mere blurs streaking by in your peripheral. You’re in the zone, that precious driver headspace where the only thing you know, the only thing you feel is the car, the car, the car. 

And then you’re spinning off track.

For a long moment, all you can do is stare, dazed as if you really had just collided with the barrier. And then comes the sickening bite of disappointment and frustration because you can see the finish line. It’s right there. Right fucking there and you failed to reach it. Again. 

Simulation over, silence floods the room. The air seems to turn frigid cold, felt even beneath the thick material of your suit. You want to scream, to curse, to hit something. But you’re a professional driver now, F1 career in its infancy. You can’t risk the bad reputation of throwing a tantrum.

After all, this is just a practice run. No harm, no foul. Except…if you were to crash like that for real, you would have just cost your team not only desperately needed points to stay ahead of other teams, but also hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of repairs, possibly millions. Your team is counting on you not to make dumb mistakes and lately that seems to be the only thing you’re capable of doing. And if you don’t get your shit together by pre-testing…

Your jaws clenches, unable to finish the thought.

The worst thing is, Javi’s staring. Unlike the rest of the room’s inhabitants who devote their focus to pouring over the data, muttering amongst themselves, he’s watching you like you’re a rare bug under a microscope, something peculiar and puzzling. It’s unbearable.

You climb your way out of the simulator, head ducked, jaw clenched. When you turn around, when the helmet comes off, you’ll paste a rueful grin on your face. You’ll accept the pats on your shoulder, the repetitive phrases of better luck next time and we’ll keep practicing, don’t worry. You’ll make fun of yourself, pick apart your mistakes until their sting is gone. 

You’ll make everyone believe you're fine. That your anxiety isn’t a problem. That you’re more than capable of representing the team (and womankind) on the grid. 

It’s a good plan. A solid plan. A plan that has worked over and over again ever since you signed on as Vulpecula’s reserve driver what feels like a hundred lifetimes ago. 

What you don’t count on is Javi approaching you, blocking your view of the strategists and operators with his broad shoulders almost like he’s purposefully trying to spare you from their prying eyes. You slowly slide your helmet over your head, blinking at him, fighting to keep your carefully composed mask in place.

“You weren’t kidding,” he says, tone light yet your spine tenses all the same. “My mind is blown.”

“Right, very funny,” you reply sourly, rolling your eyes. 

His hand reaches out and brushes against your elbow, a reassuring touch your anxiety-stricken mind doesn’t know how to process. “I’m serious. If not for that last corner curb, turning just a hair too early, you would have beaten the fastest lap record by three seconds. You’re quick, Oddball. Smart, too. You’ll learn from these mistakes, become a better racer.” A pause, another soft nudge against your arm. “Maybe even better than me if you’re really lucky.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until a choked laugh escapes you. Sounds more like a wheeze, actually. High-pitched and painful and all wrong. But it cuts through the anxiety, takes you out of your head for a blissful moment. 

Javi, the dear man you’re beginning to suspect doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, makes no comment on it.

“Okay, curls,” you say, and you’re not ready to smile yet, but you’re definitely closer to feeling like your usual and real self than you were before he came over. “Your turn. Let’s see what you got.”

He moves to grab his own spare helmet from the shelf. And there’s a moment, barely a glimpse, where your eyes lock with his, and somehow you know he hears the unspoken thank you lodged in the back of your throat. 

With a great promotion comes a greater responsibility. Now that you're an official driver for the team, you’re not just expected to race for them, you’re expected to promote them too. Which means a whole new intense level of media and sponsoring obligations you never had to deal with when you were in F2. 

Vivian assigns you a PR manager—a blonde named Barbara Minerva with a friendly smile and a penchant for wearing animal print—to help you prepare for the big adjustment, training you on what and what not to say as well as how to control your facial expressions when the press are shoving microphones at you. The last thing you want is your pineapple face witnessed by millions of people worldwide. 

You like Barbara, you really do. She used to work for Black Gold so she’s an expert on handling pretty much every type of media scandal or drama outburst one can imagine. She instructs you on when to be serious and when to be coy with the reporters, how to neutrally navigate uncomfortable topics without pissing anyone off, and even comes up with a hand signal to use when you’re feeling overwhelmed and need her to intervene. Barbara’s great, but that doesn’t change the fact media training is fucking exhausting. Brain working overtime, critically analyzing every word that comes out of your mouth, every facial tic and flutter of your eyelids with a giant magnifying glass, alarms blaring with every perceived flaw. You start dreading the hour each day, counting down the minutes until you can escape and give your pounding head a break from the information overload.

And this is just the training. It pains you to think about how much worse the real thing will be, even with Barbara swearing she’ll be by your side through it all.

After media training, you fall into a routine of grabbing a snack from the mess hall on the third floor, usually an apple or a granola bar, something Diana wouldn’t give you the stink eye for discovering, and then finding a quiet corner to sit and decompress for a few minutes.

This isn’t a new thing—this desire for privacy, for solitude. You used to do it back on Sorgan, too, when the bullying from the other kids got under your skin, self-doubts bubbling to the surface. It became increasingly harder to find a quiet space once you switched from karting to formula racing, more eyes and more judgment seeking you out, and it's kind of funny how your world became so much larger and so much smaller simultaneously. 

You’re musing over this thought, chewing on an apple while nestled in a lounge chair, minding your own business, when you’re interrupted by the soft clearing of a throat. You look up, nearly choking on your mouthful when you find Javi staring down at you, dressed in a flannel plaid shirt that’s tight around his broad shoulders and carrying an apple of his own. 

One day you hope the sight of him will stop sending your heart into cardiac arrest. Preferably soon, because you’re really not sure how much more you can take.

“Mind if I join you?” Javi asks, gesturing to the other lounge chair. He’s looking at you with those doe brown eyes all round and full of hope you’d have to be a heartless monster to deny him, so you just nod your head.

For a long moment neither of you say anything. It’s not an awkward silence, but it’s not comfortable either. Just two people existing in the same time and space. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Javi leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the table, and it’s a little unfair how easily he can settle into new places, blending in like he was always meant to be there. 

“So,” he starts, mouth curling into a grin when you look over, “you come here often?” 

“It’s nice,” you say. “I like the quiet.”

“Oh.” Javi tenses, spine straightening. “I-I can go, if you want me—”

“No!” You throw out an arm as if to physically grab him. He freezes, one leg raised off the table, blinking at you. Oh, God. You’ve really made it weird now. Licking your lips, you lower your tone back to its usual pitch, reassuring him, “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind you being here.”

It startles you to realize you’re not lying. 

The reason you seek out alone time is just that, to be alone. When you’re in these moods you don’t like anyone invading your space. Not your friends or your parents. Nobody. It’s an unspoken rule of yours.

But then there’s Javi, settling back into his seat with a warm, dimpled grin, looking so strangely content to be allowed to stay, and it doesn’t seem so bad making an exception for him.

“I like the quiet, too,” Javi admits. “Back home, there are these cliffs overlooking the ocean for miles and miles, endlessly blue. It's my favorite sight on the whole island. I could spend hours up there…”

He trails off, lost in a memory, and for the first time since arriving at Vulpecula he seems dejected, eyes dimming. You’re familiar enough with the look of homesickness after seeing it in the mirror a dozen times to recognize it on someone else’s face.

“There aren’t any cliffs or oceans in Altair, but there’s some pretty great restaurants and bakeries,” you say. There’s a French café down the street from your apartment which you can confidently claim makes the best croissants in the whole world, buttery and flaky and oh so delicious to enjoy on your cheat days. “Festivals and concerts, too, if you’re interested.”

Javi looks at you, a mix of interest and surprise. “Are you offering to be my tour guide, rarita?”

“Only for the sake of the team, of course,” you tell him with mock seriousness. “Can’t have you winding up lost in some back alleyway before a race weekend.”

“The press would have a field day,” he agrees, voice just as deadpan. His eyes widen with alarm. “Ay, Dios! Think of the fans! Their memes will be absolutely merciless. I’ll never leave my apartment again.”

You can’t keep up your straight face, laughing and shaking your head. “Exactly. Lucky for you, Altair is basically my second home. I know it like the back of my hand.”

“Lucky me.” He nods, running a hand over his curls, and, okay, maybe you really do have a serious heart condition because what is happening. Distracted by the frantic beating, you nearly miss him asking, “You grew up in the Outer Rim, right?”

“That’s right.” Pride slips into your voice, gesturing towards yourself with a thumb. “Straight outta Sorgan.”

Javi chuckles. “Do your parents still live there?”

“Yep. They’re krill farmers, just like everybody else in the village. They fly out to races when they can, and when they can’t, well,” you shrug, “there’s always phone calls, right?”

His lip twitches, an aborted frown. “Yeah,” he says after a moment’s hesitation.

Okay. There’s obvious tension there. Curiosity prickles at the back of your mind, but when you notice the way his gaze has fallen to the floor, resembling a kicked puppy, you decide you don’t want to ask about it if it makes him look this sad. 

Your fingers drum against your forgotten apple for a few seconds, then go still as an idea occurs. 

“Hey, um,” you say tentatively, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. “I know you already got a tour of HQ from Vivian before, but how would you like a proper one? Oddball style?”

Javi blinks, eyebrows scrunching together, and the look really shouldn’t be as cute as it is. “Do I dare ask what ‘Oddball style’ means?”

“Nope. You’re either in or you're out, curls.”

“In that case,” Javi says, a smile spreading over his face. “Count me in.”

F1 Driver Javi Gutierrez Moves to Altair Ahead of Upcoming Season with Vulpecula

Written By: Raquel Wilde

 "I'm looking forward to making memories here," says Javi Gutierrez, born and raised in Mallorca. "Altair's a nice place with nice people. It's starting to feel like a home away from home."

Gutierrez, who began racing in Formula 1 in 2018 when he was 21, has always felt drawn to the world of motorsports, claiming there's "no better feeling in the world than being behind the wheel". He will join Vulpecula in 2023 after finishing 11th in the driver standings this year with Triple Frontier.

He'll be paired with rookie driver known to Altair locals and the world as Oddball. Together they'll train at Vulpecula Headquarters these upcoming winter months to prepare for pre-season testing in February.

"I'm already planning on showing him all the best restaurants and sights," Oddball says, who has called Altair home for the past two years.

Oddball has become a familiar and much-loved presence to locals, often spotted buying groceries, biking around the park, and attending special events. In response to Gutierrez's arrival, signs of support have begun appearing in shop windows and on front lawns, welcoming him to the community and the massively adored F1 team.

Vulpecula CEO Vivian Etten has said Gutierrez is the leader the team needs to overcome their recent struggles. "He's made a lot of progress since his rookie year," Etten claims. "He's got the skills, the knowledge, and the right attitude."

If Gutierrez had not pursued racing, he would have tried to become a professional swimmer. It remains a favorite exercise and pastime of his. Perhaps when the weather turns warm, he might give the local rec center pool a visit when he’s not busy up at Vulpecula HQ.

Only time will tell what next season will bring for Gutierrez and Oddball. I imagine readers are hoping for podium finishes just as much as I am. In the upcoming weeks, Vulpecula's new drivers will be attending the Drive Awards and also enjoy some time off from their F1 duties to celebrate the holidays with their families.

“Gabriela!”

The brunette PR manager turns to find Barbara Minerva half-running, half-stumbling towards her in leopard print high heels. Memories of their shared seasons together at Black Gold come rushing to mind, leaning on each other when it felt like everything else was falling apart, and Gabriela can’t help opening her arms to embrace the other woman.

“Long time no see,” she says when she pulls back. Friendships are hard to maintain in the world of F1, especially when drivers are no longer on the same team. Gabriela can only recall seeing Barbara once during Javi’s time at Triple Frontier, and that had been just a passing glimpse across the paddock. “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”

“Aw, thanks. I like it better this way too.” Barbara smiles, eyes crinkling behind her glasses, and reaches up to touch the shoulder-length blonde waves. She then gestures towards Gabriela. “You look just as fabulous as I remember. How have you been?”

“Highs and lows. Mostly highs, thankfully,” Gabriela answers. A staff member walks by then, neatly sidestepping around them before carrying on down the hallway and the interruption reminds her exactly where they are. “Wait. Barb, what are you doing at Vulpecula?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Ballard isn’t the only one Black Gold gave the boot.”

“They what?” Gabriela’s jaw drops. She might be a kickass PR agent (in her opinion, at least), but that doesn’t always mean she has full control over her own reactions. Case in point.

“It’s all good though,” Barbara reassures her, pointing to a pin on her shirt Gabriela had failed to notice before. It’s the Vulpecula constellation logo. The same one Gabriela’s wearing beneath her coat. “Vulpecula reached out much more nicely than Black Gold ever spoke to me. Offered me more money too,” she adds with a conspiratorial wink.

The brunette starts to laugh, but then understanding fully sinks in. PR managers are brought onto F1 teams to handle the drivers, and since Javi already has one, then that can only mean—

“You’re Oddball’s manager?”

“That’s right.” The two women trade matching smiles. “She’s adorable. A giant work in progress, but adorable.”

Gabriela winces sympathetically. She remembers her early days with Javi when he made his rookie debut, how eager he’d been for people to like him, how hard she’d had to work to prevent the light in his eyes from disappearing completely after critics started dismissing him as an insignificant presence on the grid. He’s grown up since then. He’s put up walls too. And she wants to be proud of him for not letting the negativity drag him down, but the thing about walls is that they keep him safe, yes, however they also prevent people from getting close. She hates to think of Javi as lonely, not someone as sweet and considerate as him.

“Speaking of Oddball,” Barbara’s voice shakes her out of her head. She blinks back into focus, finding her friend holding out a torn piece of paper with numbers scribbled on it. “This is her cell number. Vivian told me to make sure Javi had it.”

She takes the paper from her and stares down at it for a second before neatly stuffing it in her pocket, unsure whether to feel confused or offended Vivian didn’t reach out to her directly. Maybe the team principal wanted the two PR managers to meet up, aware of their history with each other. What’s done is done now, Gabriela supposes, shoving the mixed emotions aside as quickly as they sprung up.

“Thanks. I’ll make sure he gets it,” she tells Barbara. “You know, it really is great to see you again. I’ve missed having someone to gossip with over a drink.”

“Wine nights!” Barbara cheers, then immediately slaps a hand over her mouth when her voice echoes loudly off the walls. 

They both burst into laughter not even a second later, so loud a couple of heads poke out of nearby offices to see what’s going on only to then shake in amusement at the pair. 

And for the first time since Javi signed his contract with Vulpecula, the nervous knot in Gabriela’s stomach doesn’t seem so big anymore.

From: Unknown Number (7:15pm)

Hey Oddball it’s Javi! Gabriela gave me your number, hope you don’t mind! 

To: Javi (7:18pm)

Not at all! Text me if you ever want any restaurant recs

From: Javi (7:19pm)

Only if you come along too :)

To: Javi (7:19pm) (unsent)

Really? You sure?

To: Javi (7:20pm) (unsent)

Ya! Sounds like fun!

To: Javi (7:21pm) 

You drive a hard bargain curls…

To: Javi (7:22pm) 

But I guess I could be persuaded. Wanna get lunch tomorrow?

From: Javi (7:24pm) 

Tell me when and where, I’ll be there!

[addysfandomdump]

You're looking a little tangled up there, Bolt!

Decided to fill out the questionare that’s been going around the @sonic-oc-showdown​​!

Name: Bolt the Cyber Cheetah

Species: Asiatic Cheetah (and also cyborg)

Type: Speed

Alignment: Neutral Good

Home: Sol Empire

The rest under the cut! 👇

✨ - How did you come up with the OC’s name? 

I didn’t! Bolt originally belonged to my partner Zed! He was a recolor/edit of one of those Sonic character bases you find on DeviantArt lol. He originally had, and still has, electricity powers-- he’s also related to Blaze, and 5th grade Zed wanted a B name, hence Bolt! He also tends to “bolt” off a lot, haha.

I’m the one who made him a cheetah, though. Bolt used to be just a regular old cat. But then I thought “hm, y’know for a series about a fast hedgehog, there is the striking lack of the cheetah rival” so I made him a cheetah! An Asiatic cheetah specifically, since Blaze is Indian-coded! The Asiatic cheetah is dying out :( There are only 12 Asiatic cheetahs left in the whole world as of writing this :(( It’s so sad :(((

(A cheetah in Iran. Source: Wikipedia)

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range) 

Bolt is 18 years old!

🌺 - Do they have any love interest(s)?

Yes! Bolt has a girlfriend named Chilli, who’s a Chocolate Labrador! They met in junior year high school and are T4T ❤ Don’t ask him how he scored, he doesn’t know either.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

I don’t know! Since he’s so anxious all the time, probably warm and filling foods, like soup! Since he’s 90% robot, though, he doesn’t really need to eat. He’s powered by his own electricity!

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Bolt does a variety of odd jobs to pay rent. He usually works as a living battery for a lot of people, though, restarting grids and charging people’s phones for a dollar.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Bolt has a lot of hobbies, usually ones that keep him calm. Visiting museums, going on long walks in nature, anything that handles weaving like crocheting or knitting or plush making... he made his jacket himself!

🎯 - What do they do best?

Worry. And cry.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Bolt loves engaging in his hobbies and hanging out with his girlfriend, Chilli :)

Oh boy does he hate a lot of things. Many things stress him out. Watching a scary movie, trying something new, talking to people who aren’t his usual friend group, loud concerts, big crowds, whatever new adventure Blaze inadvertently drags him into this time, etc etc.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Going to see the stars with his girlfriend for the first time.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Getting kidnapped and roboticized, easy. And [SPOILERS FOR THE UNDEVELOPED AND UNRELEASED FANGAME SONIC RUSH: LIGHTNING SPEED].

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Nope! Bolt went through sooo many designs. I’m still figuring him out. Every new drawing of him looks different. I feel like I’m getting close, though!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Zed wanted to make a cool elemental Sonic kitty ala Blaze. Then I basically took him and transformed him completely. At first he was gonna be another cocky Sonic rival, since I’ve always imagined a cheetah rival for Sonic, but then I was like “hmm, he has a lot of those already... not very unique...” and then I remembered @/thehydroxian-art-blog’s Jeff the Imperfect Shadow Android and though “Ah! I shall make him pathetic. And also a robot.” And thus the current version of Bolt was born!

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

A sci-fi action comedy film, for sure!

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Bolt is a trans man, he/him pronouns, bisexual. That yellow chestplate you see was originally a binder before it got welded into his body by the roboticization machine!

🙌 - How many siblings does your OC have?

None so far! He’s an only child! He does have his cousin, Blaze, though. Which technically makes him royalty. He doesn’t really live like royalty, though... or know that he’s royalty in the first place.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

They kinda just peaced out after Bolt graduated from high school. They weren’t particularly close with Bolt, and vice versa. They lowkey wanted nothing to do with him...

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

A decent amount! A member in a Sonic server I’m in asks all sorts of prompt questions about other people’s OCs and I love answering them! It’s really helped me develop not just Bolt, but my other OCs such as Faye Moreau, Seafoam the Sailfish, Charlotte Webb, Chaos Clown, Ms. Host, Cabinet Man, and even Kryztal!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Nah, not really.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Yes. Too many to list, though. He’s practically afraid of everything.

🍩 - Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Blaze is kiiinda his rival, but saying that is kind of a stretch. He’s an alright rival to Sonic when the hog visits, though.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I don’t quite remember. A few months at least. Maybe even a year.

This one is something I came up with myself:

💥 - What are your OC’s powers, if they have any?

Bolt can channel and manipulate electricity! He can also shapeshift his mechanical body into various weapons like energy cannons, guns, and blades! His tail stretch out really far, and manifest temporary platforms!

Aaand that should do it! Hoo, that was a lot of questions! It was fun!!!

[k-zu]

8? 👀

( stories of a figure skater - a day off ) by hikaru shirosu

the strong yet gentle wind made his locks dance, brush against his nose and go up in the air ever so softly. the light sound of nature serving as a lullaby to you both laying on the grass, trees covering you from the sun, hands shyly brushing against each other.

at some point you turned your head to him, you'd be rambling about cloud shapes for too long and barely getting an agreeing sound out of him so you just assumed he must have fallen asleep. albeit, he was looking at you instead of up there at the sky he knew was filled with pretender stars. and he must've of thought you wouldn't notice for he let himself wear the softest look you've ever seen him have, there was even a glimpse of a tiny smile that held a heavy amount of unspoken feelings, so overwhelming filled with appreciation it made your cheeks vermilion.

you took a deep breath before containing it in, your fingers twitched, and his eyebrow raise was the cherry on top to make your heart run faster than a cheetah ever could. "am i not allowed to look at you?" he whispered under his breath, hoping to any god that you wouldn't tease him for his red ears after being caught stupidly looking at you. he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"not like that, no." you replied weakly, as if all your defenses disappeared with just his presence.

"what do you mean "not like that"? i'm looking at you normally." he replied, softly scoffing while pretending to turn his face back at the sky, but after a short second of silence he returned his face to you who was still looking at him deadpan.

he chuckled and pushed your face away with his hand so you would stop staring, "you look so dumb, stop." / "i'd say the same about you just a second ago." / "oh, shut it."

ask game !! leave a number in my inbox and i'll shuffle my playlist that many times, i'll write a short fic based on the song it stops on !

[leleamo]

part 8

Yanter and Panther walked through the dark forest, the stars shone in the sky and the moon kept them company

— I'm glad Star Fox is here, it'll be good to see Krystal again... — Panther said as he twirled the rose between his fingers, the big flowers that walked with them smelled him

— yes yes, egh.. can we go now...? I don't feel safe in this place... — Yanter said, burning one of the flowers with her cigar

— go if you want, I feel that something romantic will blossom that night...

— oh, okay, bye bye, last of the romantics — Yanter got up and flew away

Panther looked around relaxed, taking his time, enjoying the night and the serene

— living flowers... that smell... would this be a good gift for Krystal...?— Panther said as he focused on his rose... without seeing that the flowers behind him slowly opened their mouths... ready to make Panther dinner! until a flame burned the flower in the center! Panther heard it scream of agony and backed away, the flower slowly burned to death while the other two tried to attack! but a torch flew to one of the flowers and began to burn

— what??— Panther was confused and scared, the torch quickly disappeared from the ground by a yellow figure! who stopped just in front of Panther, and was... the leader of the Guepardo team! well, from the back, could see how the radiation had affected her.. wings had grown out of her back, but she still looked like a cheetah, the fire alone scared the only living flower and it ran away... I think.. plant can run?

Anyway, she turned to see Panther, she looked a little old, her clothes torn, a white shirt and gray shorts, eyes red like blood... one of her hands was becoming like Yanter's, bird hands...

- are you... well? You shouldn't walk through the forest at night, the most violent plants like blood...” her voice was hoarse, but it sounded like a woman worried about desolate children

Panther blushed, it was the first time a woman made him blush, not the other way around, he quickly raised his hand to take hers

— I'm great... my heroine, thanks to you...

—... I heard the conversation... between you and your friend... do you need help getting back to your home...?"

— oh my madam, I don't need help, but your company would be perfect... — Panther grabbed her waist and pulled her close, as they started walking — what is my heroine's name?

—... Chita.. Chita Chinchin...—

Part 7 - part 9

[cafalla]

4Kids Flyer (2005) & Planet Lunch (1999) Scans

I've got a short post for today, but it's a cool one (to me, at least)!

I've been scanning and uploading tons of vintage stickers I found at the Goodwill Bins, as well as a couple of random items like vintage Valentine's Day cards and this 4Kids TV flyer!

I can still feel little me's exhaustion from waking up early on a Saturday morning to watch 4Kids TV. My favorites to watch were Pokémon Advance, Yu-Gi-Oh, Mew Mew Power, Winx Club, Kirby: Right Back At Ya, and Static Shock.

Anyways, despite my work scanning and uploading to the Internet Archive, I haven't felt much like talking about anything I've found. All the items are cool (obviously, or else I wouldn't have picked them up), but nothing has inspired me to sit and write a post about it.

However, I figured this Planet Lunch booklet deserved a little spotlight.

The prizes inside this issue were available from January 1, 1999 until May 16, 1999.

The items could be purchased/redeemed with "ploids" that you could collect from Frito-Lay snack packages. Ploids were little tabs you would cut out of the packaging and collect. Once you collected a certain amount of ploids, you could mail them in and get prizes.

Remember box tops? I'm more familiar with those personally, but it's all the same kind of idea.

This catalog isn't very large, it's more of a little booklet than anything. The product photos in it are soo nostalgic though. Being a kid in the 90s and early 2000s was so much fun! I still love the futuristic aesthetic. Lots of bright colors, especially green!

I'm amused by how perfectly placed and polished their snacks all are. I wonder if it was all actually fake food?

And here are the product pages to go with them that show the amount of ploids needed for each item.

I feel like they just don't make cool little gadgets like these for kids anymore.

But I'm not a kid or a parent, so maybe they do?

I think if I was to order two items from this catalog, I'd want the inflatable chair and the glow in the dark stars.

I was never able to have the glow in the dark stars because my parents were afraid they'd ruin the walls - which to be fair, they probably would've. And the inflatable chair is the perfect Nickelodeon slime green. It looks like jello and I love it!

The little Chester Cheetah bean bag plushie is also super cute. I'd put him on my monitor like in the product photo, though monitors nowadays are a lot more slim...maybe I'd have to settle for placing him next to the monitor lol

As always, you can view higher quality scans of the whole catalog (and the other items I mentioned but didn't share here) on my Internet Archive account.

Thanks for stopping by!

[prussiasqueen]

💕 How would a beach date go for you and Gilbert? 💕

Ok so, this would actually be really fun and a bit silly this beach date, then ending in a very sweet way! So in my own personal observations, Gilbert actually doesn’t know how to swim, (hence why he wears floaties a lot and also got really scared when he was younger one time when he almost drowned in cold freezing water (poor baby :’( ) so most of the beach date would contain Brii running around in her black and gold cheetah one piece that’s a one strap, and his pervy self at first blinks a bit gawking at her but then he stops as soon as she challenges him playfully to a match of volleyball. And as she runs across the sand and she tries to play volleyball with him, they get really into it, usually with how much loud banter and playful taunting they do with each other, it usually attracts some other people on the beach to want to join in on a friendly vs. with the game. (Usually by the end of this match though, Gilb has won. Poor Brii but she does put up a fight for it! But she allows her man to get all cocky and rub it in her face. So she would probably I would giggle along and congratulate him but also tease him about it, and as everyone else left the match for us. I’d go to a nearby boardwalk and give him a reward for winning, a nice big ice cream, one so big that when Gilbert gets it his eyes twinkle in delight, but then he looks over at his wifey blushing, mumbling, “meine Schatz…share with me?” So they end up sharing a little ice cream together as he teases her a bit, trying to give her sticky ice cream kisses (ew yuck Pruss! I don’t WANT STICKY D:!!!!!) After that, I’d go to the shallow part of the water and playfully start trying to splash him and let him chase me on the beach some! Oh how much fun and trouble he and I would get into 🤭

And then towards the evening, we build sand castles of course his sandcastle is huge and supreme, he’s even implemented a way for the bridge to draw open on his fortress… (meanwhile my castle is a simple, little default tiny castle) and he notes this, and giggled at it, teasing me about it. So I get mad and kick mine. Gilb then usually realizes I’m a bit perturbed by my castle making skills and just pulls be by the waist and whispers, “I have a better idea mein liebe, let’s build us a castle together, a great and mighty one~ just the two of us~” so that results us working together and we make his castle even more complex and huge. But we did it together and it’s so big it attracts a few people to come and want to take pictures of it! Of course Prussia is beyond cool with that and poses all proud and confident, meanwhile I just do a simple heart gesture in the picture, he notices how standoffish and shy I’m being and immediately pulls me into the picture more and presses his cheek to mine. “Mein Frau! You need to have some pride in yourself too! You built this with me now get in ze picture und show me what a beautiful und confident, brillant woman you are! You built this with me!”

So I comply with it and giggle as we do cute poses for the pictures the admirers of our castle take.

As it heads darker, we eventually lay on our beach towels as I rest my head on his thigh, letting him stroke my head as we both look up at the sky, and see the stars coming out. Brii then slightly lifts her head up to look at him as she moved her position, crawling on top of Gilbert, which at first catches him by surprise, then he just smiles, we banter a bit on the day, then I leave him a small kiss on his chin, then to his cheeks and lips. Which that makes him excited and pulls Brii in, nuzzling her, whispering in her ear how much he loves her and how he loves having his queen, expresses her being his partner in crime and his best friend, they then snuggle together and watch the stars for a bit more before packing up and heading back.

🐥👑

🖤🤍

💜👑

(Hnnn—- This one was quite long, but worth it. I love this so much oh my gosh!)

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

'Eat it up. You’re all fuckin welcome <3' 💀

VANESSA WILLIAMS IN DRAG YES

'Okay Detox with the feathers' AGJHJFJDJD

Honey Mahogany's energy!!

Game On Bitch: The Sequel

RuPaul's suit and shoes!!

Giving out better prizes than Food Network—

'I can see your SEAFOOD PLATTER' HELP

LEAVE THE UNTUCKED GIRLIES ALONE

RuPaul: You look like Calimari when you do that!

Alyssa: https://youtube.com/shorts/A0y8Nve-SyU?si=wsgaOZdWC_4_3aqM

'I don't know how to swim' same.

To be fair this would be quite a challenge for anybody 💀

'There’s got to be a morning after' Thank God for Homosexuals. Their taste is fuckin elite

VIV!

Alaska, I— same

HELPPPP

LYNESHA!!

TUNA TURNER SGSHKTHDM

Ppl who wear cheetah print are automatically cool as fuck.

Premiere Jewish Narcoleptic Drag Queen Jinx—we love you

I would love to be one of those dudes doing random shit for the queens, what a fun job

I really thought it was Lynesha!! But Detox's entire outfit and face and vibe is just amazing

Chaz!!

BARBIE??

RUPAULS GLASSES

I'm making the same face as them 💀

Jinx <3

ALASKA AVSVNGGSHDNAFN

'What are they talkin bout over there. . .' AFSHKDJFJ

'I just wanna keep it kind of classy'— 'yeah. . .' SHSHKJRHSHLRJ

'Okay' 👁👄👁

RuPaul's suit—even his voice and energy! Very Willy Wonka

Roxxxy is so amazing.

PENNYS OUTFIT

I feel like Alaska is going home. . .

Alyssa is trying it—

ALYSSA SHUT UP

Alaska + Sharon's relationship <3

ALYSSA SHUT UP

SERENA—tbh I understand why she's being obnoxious, she's probably very nervous. You can see it her eyes. But the ageism is not it

RUPAULS LOOK

Gosh, this is so cute <3

Roxxxy look is the 2009–est I've ever seen. Good for her.

JINX

'Loofa my ass' AHAJOWHSKDJKEHD

JEM AND THE HOLOGRAMS

HONEY!!!

'Hehehehe yes please' AGDNKDHSH

PENNY

COCO!

VIV IS GIVING BEYONCE

Alaska's hair!!

LYNESHAS FACE

MONICA I LOVE YOU

Viv is so !!!

RuPaul is so frickin ominous.

If Lynesha gets sent home I'm gonna yeet my computer.

Ivy's was beautiful but it wasn't like. SERVING serving

WHAT WAS THAT AGGRESSIVE BITE

Camille's dress so is lovely!!

Lynsha is my wife.

Jade's look was chaotic. I agree w what's his face. The idea was there, but I feel like her look could have been better put together

MAE WEST YEAH

'TILTED PELVIS' AND RUPAUL'S CACKLING AFTERHSHGKFJH

RuPaul is chaotic neutral as hell.

Michelle <3

Lynesha 😍

Roxxxy!!! YES

YES LYNESHA IS SAFE

'Coutorture' 💀

I think Penny is safe. SHE BETTER BE

'Edit' — definitely!

DO NOT SEND PENNY HOME

NOT PARTY IN THE USA

I feel like Serena is staying. She seems like she’s gonna learn her lesson about learning from others

Penny writing 'you are all stars' is genuinely making me cry

im really sorry straight ppl don't have this.

What a RIDEEEEEE omg!! I’m so happy that you enjoyed it its such a good season to start!!!! Who are you rooting for? Who do you think is gonna win as of right now?

Omg i remember watching with my friend and she was LOVING Penny Tration and i sat next to her like 😬 oh no

Also imma have to dm you about Sh*ron i forgot they mention her every fucking episode 😭😭

[hazelplaysgames]

it’s a few days past when i’d wanted, but lets get started with Digimon Dawn here! i’m honestly not too sure whether i’m gonna be more or less detailed about it than i was with Dusk, but i’m not getting anywhere doing nothing. to start: Coronamon got nicknamed Antares(after a star), and the other two are exclusive to the Japanese pack: Reppamon, dubbed Elvis, and Karatenmon, Arpeggio.

something i like compared to Dusk is how the opening is of the second half of the Normal Tamer Tournament. in Dusk, it was basically a interrupted training session, and all you fought were Vilemon for a bit, and finished off the tutorial with the final fight of this. this changes up a fair bit, which i like more. something i don’t like, which i didn’t expect to be an issue, is that it feels harder to read these orange menus. it might just be i’m not used to it.

on to the supporti-- hey wait game. game let me talk to everyone in the waiting room. game!

you know i think Newton is the first fight you have in Dusk, too. single Kokuwamon as was there. second is Ponch, third is Gutts. the cocky pricks return! i don’t remember seeing the teams of either of the latter two in Dusk, so it’s neat to see them here. it’s not the full Clown squad, Barone was in the stands before heading into the stage. also, Raigo was there as well, probably to show off the Gold tamer status.

so, supporting cast, as i was saying: it looks like the main two friends are gonna be Pulsa and Komachi, and the secondary squad is Tonpei, Kenpa, and Cheetah. the team leader is Glare, and his Digimon partner is Ophanimon. can i just say, way less of a mouthful than Chaos Gallantmon? and the rival character of Night Claw is Sayo, as seen in Cyber Sleuth last i played a Digimon game.

and as for supporting supporting cast, the audience stands also has Gideon, a LF Silver member, and Litton, who... either Bronze or Gold at a guess, i kind of sort of doubt that both Silver members are in the crowd here. Gideon seems pretty cool.

to say it right now, the characters to Light Fang seem way less cocky as of right now. let it be said Ponch and Gutts are not good at first impressions. or second or third... Cheetah might be the Gutts of this game, but he at least comes across as having a shred of humility.

oh hey, Antares actually managed to not die in all these fights. that’s pretty nice! i think Sayo has the Dusk Balance pack? Lilamon and MechGaogamon. ooh, and after Sayo’s fight, Raigo confirms Litton is a Gold Tamer! she. says it now too, actually, Raigo’s just closer to the door. the scene with the hooded figure plays out pretty much the same as in Dusk, maybe omit a detail or two for the fact you don’t see the stuff at Thriller Ruins.

Gaoh and Lyla are confirmed to be the Bronze members of LF, and i’m unleashed on the City to head home, which makes no sense to me because i’m used to DMC, featuring Dante. as a point of clarity, i’ve actually never played a DMC game. nor for that matter, God of War, Shin Megami Tensei, Persona(i’m actually getting into it now so that might change soon)... are we sure i grew up with a PS2? i’m getting distracted. i saw a place called the Shine Gate, thought “Mario Sunshine :),” and adhd won. i think that’s a good sign the inaugural post is getting too long.

to go one sentence further, i always felt it was a bit weird that Dawn had Gatomon as the NaviDigimon, while Dusk used Phascomon, one that otherwise doesn’t show up in the games.

[silntfangs]

Tucked under the makeshift Christmas tree, lit up by a battery pack of lights, are a small collection of gifts, though there is one in particular Star is quick to grab. Wrapped in red and gold paper, she carries the obvious skateboard behind her back; it's black, polished, with a matching cheetah to Dwayne's leather jacket painted on the bottom of the board itself. She had considered something more sentimental, but then figured there was a lifetime for more thoughtful birthday gifts- perhaps for his 150th birthday. For days and days now, Star had had one reason or another to disappear on her own, keeping paints and brushes out of sight. Stuck underneath the red metallic bow is a small note that simply reads:

"Dwayne-

I know this isn't much, but I hope you like it. I also figure there's a lifetime for something better. Happy birthday.

Love -

Star"

"You're actually lucky your birthday is on Christmas Eve," she said as she approached her brother, then revealing the gift behind her back, "because you're the only one who gets a gift tonight."

               DWAYNE   WAS   RELAXING   AS   HE   USUALLY   DID.   HE   KEPT   DISTANT,   watching   Laddie   as   he   was   overjoyed   with   the   Christmas   tree,   and   eyeing   presents   underneath   it.   He   truly   did   try   to   make   the   boy’s   Christmas   as   best   as   he   could   with   the   little   he   had   to   offer.   He   hoped   it   was   enough,   hoped   that   he   was   happy.   Though,   with   that   big   smile   the   boy   wore,   Dwayne �� can   say   that   this   must   have   been   decent.   

               MUSINGS   WERE   CUT   SHORT   AS   HE   HEARD   FAMILIAR   FOOTSTEPS   APPROACH   him.   Dark   browns   lifted   to   see   Star.   She   stood,   a   childish   look   to   her   expression.   It   made   Dwayne   smile.   He   also   noted   a   gift   behind   her   back.   This   made   his   chest   squeeze.   Today   wasn’t   only   Christmas   Eve,   but   it   was   also   his   birthday.   That   thought   made   his   throat   dry,   a   lump   forming   uncomfortably   there.   How   old   was   he   now?   One-hundred?   Something   like   that.   To   think   he   had   many   birthdays   without…   her.   Dwayne   scored   himself.   Here,   in   the   now,   Star   was   so   kind   enough   to   gift   him   something.   

            WITH   A   STEADY   BREATH,   HE   TOOK   THE   GIFT   AND   CARD—   the   words   written   made   him   chuckle.   Yes,   he   might   have   lost   one   sister,   but   he   gained   another.   He   must   remember   to   not   necessarily   forget   Melissa,   but   to   simply   move   on.   So,   with   an   effort,   Dwayne   straightened   himself,   “   Oh,   Star…   ”   he   said   softly,   already   knowing   exactly   what   it   was.   Dwayne   did   need   a   new   one,   and   of   course   she   noticed   that,   “   Thank   you,   ”   the   older   vampire   stood,   took   the   one   step   forward,   and   wrapped   her   in   an   embrace,   “   I   love   you.   ”

[halt-kun]

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 218 - Confession

It's been a while but I'm going to liveblog one hxh chapter today

I learnt of a hxh fighting game developed by a studio that did a marvel vs capcom before being announced

I'm HYPED but we're going to have more info the 6th of January

Now before that let's get back to our boys

Ah yes of course the very normal thing of helping your bro find out stuff for his date when in reality you're a body guard

Cute date for them to go on a hike

Once again a reminder that Gon can't see toritaten but Killua is always seeing the cute little demon cat on his shoulder (no, it's not Killua)

an eight leg thingy

cute and weird

it freaked Killua out

he is really not okay though

hug him he wants to die

THE COPS ARE HERE

WHERE IS HISOKA

Oh no it's Cheetu the cheetah

and people missing their heads

ARREST THIS FURY

HE FAST

I forgot Cheetu was Togashi's Sonic OC before it was cool (for info he first appeared in chapter 189 which was released in 2003)

A bullet in a small gun is at least 1km/s, so about 3600km/h

so Cheetu is greater than the speed of sound

terriffying

Urgh I hate this thing

useless censoring

and now the zombie lady presentator

some people are weird like that

I love her looks

200k/h is probably Cheetu's cruising speed, a light jog for him

Our boy is anxious as always

well good for you Cheetu is not coming, he's horrible to deal with

and the usual lie

Can we take a moment to appreciate the crowd here, Killua is in the front

a lot of the characters are very cool looking

the guy on the left with armbands is cool looking, the three guys next to Killua too : black guy with braids, star shirt young Zeno and long haired backpack. The first two are a couple, new headcanon.

Then there is horned hair 69 shirt guy next to Kotaro Bokuto jr

then we have Gon near the entrance of the station too

I'm always confused by Palm skill with Makeup, it means we probably don't know her look without makeup

She probably looks like the grudge (I know it's the ring girl) ON PURPOSE

what a goth icon

Thanks Killua too, I bet your family made you master makeup to disguise yourself by the time you were 3 months old but you're still confused by palm's skills

I get you, straight people are cringe

she looks better with her goth makeup

I love this little tidbits of Killua stalking them and cringing really hard, he'll probably have random flashbacks in his 20s of these moments

in french they had to explain what a stalker was because there isn't an actual french word. It's funny because I didn't realize since I've known the concept for quite a while now

Well basically a stalker is : "someone following people out of vice"

What beautiful floraaaaaa

big ferns ???? Yucca trees !

And now the anxiety begins

Killua already knows Gon will go out in a rage

what a clever boy, someone hug him and praise him

That tree is as triangly as one can be, it's disturbing me

OMG the cute little tree is glowing

cute and so romaaaantic awwwwwwww

whereas Killua as usual is dealing with everyone shit

It's a salty lake, sooo cute (why is there salt in it though ????)

If we check Killua's earlier map, we're close to the sea but how does the salt get here ????

Gon is knowledgeable in entomology and botany

we know what he'll pursue in uni

he's like all my weird taxonomist friends, be it botanists or entomologists

HORROR MOVE NOOOOOOOO

Killua's the one in an actual horror story though

WELL

I've finally gone through the date with Palm chapter

Thank god Gon is clear about his feelings here

[sohottubgarden]

Very Jurassic Park. Having downing Mylanta and just loafing around the goat. I hear a lot of jungle beats and then wham the dino ate my shorts. Did you know the following around me is nice and super kind. I didn’t until I was able to take showers enough. It’s self esteem for the table as well as chairs and homework snd general business. But the q of the day is “how”. Hie did I get this and that and earn this and that and achieve this and that and got out of place by this and that and have no clue about this and that. It’s like my dad cannot forgive me and it’s about the right. I am not his son so he need not bother. I can look at it all now with stranger in our house but. I don’t know who’s hands he’s in but I wished my mom would quit making excuses for his leveling a better life instead of the best life including our humility and then would be his new way into the paradise earth we profess. Sometimes I look at other witnesses and feel the inkling that they want to know about what I know. I only got that Jesus gets disputed. The highlighted include sections of hoe to conduct the life for better styling and other like the Armageddon happenstances. I want to ignore everything but the lizards. It’s all terrifying but that goblet and harlot and cheetah I scream out loud and then I fail epic before Dino eats my baby that came back and strands me by the beach and baby’s mama no where near what I know ever. The 711 is nice but where is our Nobu and Katsuya or Starck renovations or a lot quaint lodge by our dreaming bubbly. It must be for her to know because of the stars and my lawn after all. When I see hair I get mad unless it’s in my coffee. So the ring will okay for you to take it all in and in 7 days you’ll feel utopia compared to oh the D do you get it. The dif is just a way to say and you now get everything you wish. With jokes from oh the brothers near me in fam I think my lol is going to me how many animals I can gather. Magical.