#he’s a yamaha boy

[saintsofthestarfield]

Wolfstar Microfic: Shouldn’t Be, But Is

Part 1/2: Moony

‘That really shouldn’t be as attractive as it is,’ Remus thought, watching the man peel black gloves off slender, porcelain hands. He watched as he lifted the helmet off his head, tilting it upside down, throwing the gloves inside, and then raking a hand through tousled hair.

It was so unfunny— the way he stretched forward when dismounting the seat and throwing a leg over the backend, standing straight as he locked the handlebars in place then rotated the bike on its kickstand. It was a lot of bike, and the strain in the mans forearms told Remus is wasn’t light by any measure.

At this point, watching Padfoot— as he’d come to learn was his instagram handle— pull up to uni in all his mysterious bad-boy glory was the only thing keeping Remus’ attendance record in good standing. He liked school, sure; he was good at it, even, but that seemed to be the issue. No test was any match and no lecture was riveting and new. It was high school 2.0.

What was riveting and new, however, was his fascination with this mystery man. The first time he’d watched him swerve into the parking spot diagonal of his chosen study place he’d thought, ‘how obnoxious.’ How could one vehicle make so much noise? The sway of the tree leaves above him was completely drowned out by the growling of the black bikes engine.

Remus watched as the man looked up from where he was typing on his phone, catching his killer unimpressed glance, and immediately scrambling to kill the engine and take off his gear. He’d ran up to Remus with frantic apologies of disturbing his reading and promises of never doing it again.

It was then that Remus decided he wouldn’t mind, rather, he’d like it if he disturbed him again.

And so, a semester of Remus’ playful teasing and Padfoot’s over dramatic displays of apology took off with vigor. It was natural, almost.

Remus would return to his shady study spot, read for half an hour, listen for the zippy sound of Sirius’ motorcycle, only slightly abashadly check him out, chat him up when he ran over to see what Remus was up to, then watch him run off to the tech building.

When he’d leave, Remus would stare blankly at the book, replaying the way Padfoot’s fingers would flex around the clutch and his foot would fiddle with the gear, or the way his back would arch in a stretch when he’d shake off the buzz of the journey, or the way he’d unzip his leather jacket and roll his shoulders… All in all, that book was not getting read and Remus had never wished to be a piece of machinery more.

[gaydexvocaloid]

HAPPY BDAY FUKASEEE

// drawn with lasso tool!!

[celestinovietti]

Franky getting THAT SWEET SWEET FACTORY DUCATI!!!! STAY MAD HOES 😎😎😎😎

[forzacharlie]

this ken’s job is pretty !! 🩵

[fabiopaninaro]

Fabio Quartararo during the Press Conference at Silverstone.

[honeyed-disgraceful]

[yourdakg]

Donation Found!

Remember Ryder? The SoCal pretty boy who was depressed that his life was a vapid, superficial, and party focused existence? He contacted Turnaround Technologies to ask, nay plead for a new body and a new life. See his Donation Request Form.

If only it were that simple. Turnaround Technologies utilizes some of the most advanced science on the market. When a body is fully adjusted, it's a slow and sometimes torturous process! If it was as simple as switching brains, that would be one thing. But the subjects have to physically transform into one another, and then brainwaves are overwritten. Chemistry, genetics, biology, and psychology are all involved in this elaborate process.

So Ryder had to come up with the $325,000 fee. Luckily, he had money saved and he was able to sell off the red Mustang convertible and his yellow Yamaha Sport Bike to meet the target. The final straw was giving up the deed to his WeHo apartment. Don't tell him, but his donor bought the items! Isn't that funny? He covered the rest with personal loans! Well, a little bit of debt won't hurt.

Let's remind you of where Ryder is starting his journey:

And now let's the see information plate for his donor. I think he'll be very pleased! After this, he'll never have to worry about being surrounded by vapid, beautiful people and fending off pesky pool party invites! Yes, this is the ideal swap partner for Ryder.

Meet Dr. Pervus Fondler. And wouldn't you know it? Dr. Fondler was a doctor in Ryder's hometown! They actually know each other. The good doctor cares very deeply for Ryder and was pained when he heard about his current circumstances. He decided that his job as a physician meant he had to step up and give the ultimate sacrifice! You know what they say: First Do No Harm.

Donor Statement: While I am nervous about the process, I am confident that I will give Ryder a new future, one where he won't have to worry about all that vanity and his gym obsession. True freedom for the boy!

Thank you, doctor, for going the extra mile for your patients. Turnaround Technologies will prepare the Exchange Chambers. Both subjects will be stripped down and cleansed before being placed in metallic, moisture wicking bikinis while our technicians prepare for the process:

Now that Ryder is dressed and the drugs are injected into his system, it's time to introduce him to his generous benefactor. I hope he has a positive reaction to the kind of man he will become. Let's check in!

Patient Statement: No! Holy shit! No, not Pervus the Perv! You can't put me in that. Don't force me into that body! I'd be going from a perfect ten to a zero. Please! No... LET GO. Please, oh my God. No, I thought it would be another buff guy like me. I change my mind, I changed my mi--**UMPH HRRMPH**

It's not clear why Ryder objected so strongly to his partner. Maybe it was the shock of knowing who the doctor was from earlier in his life. At any rate, he paid the fee and signed the paperwork so there is, quite literally, no going back. Swaps of this nature are once in a lifetime and, of course, quite permanent.

Subject had to be forcibly gagged and sedated.

Add another $125,000 for the service. Ryder sure is going to pay a lot of money for his new life!

When he came to in the chamber, Ryder was pounding on the door. I think he was crying. His oversize genitalia were mashed against the glass in his silver pouch. It was quite the sight. When the whirr of the machine began and the paralyzing blue light hit, his eyes went crossed. He fell backwards and pumped his hips in the air. Well, the erection is to be expected. I've heard the process somewhat erotic, though painful.

It takes a couple days and the exchange unstable during that time, but I am happy to report the following:

Donor Report: I feel good. Very good. I'm probably going to move to SoCal, sort of take over Ryder's apartment. I'll probably start using his name now too. Don't wanna confuse people. I don't even have my old, perverted urges. I hope he's comfortable with the mental traits foisted on him. Oh... he wants to take picture of me? Ha, okay. I'll flex for $100. Recipient Report: What do you mean I can't go back *whimper* why do I feel so strange. I'm already out of breath. Give it back! What do you mean a name change is included in the package *sob* MY NAME IS PERVUS NOW??!?! Oh. I have to take his medical practice in my shithole hometown? Oh God! I just... oh goodness, seeing it from this angle it's such a fine body. So tight and firm! At least flex for me, my boy? A little. So I can snap a few pics and... use them later. Eehehe. Oh God, what have I become?

[matcha-flavored-cake]

୧ ‧₊˚ 🥐 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

. warnings: mentions of death (Jefferson) and grief, grammar erros (english is not my first language).

. featuring: Miles Morales (e!42)

. wc: 1.4k

.a/n: if you see grammatical errors, or me saying something in Spanish wrong, please feel free to correct me. My Spanish is rusty as fuck

hcs for miles 1610 here

He listens to a lot of reggaeton, afrobeat, and R&B. C'mon guys, look at my face and say to me he doesn't, also he prob like old school rap too, thanks to uncle Aaron and his dad, Jefferson probably showed his some jazz

I feel like Mama Rio and Abuelita Gloria showed him some old Puerto Rican singers and he listens old songs from time to time, specially when his nana is visiting

This man knows mechanics. Period. Help his mom to fix things around the house, shower, the lights etc. Bet his 'son and dad' time involved something with fixing things around the house and Jefferson 'passing the knowledge ' to Miles

"Listen Miles, you're the man in the house when I'm not around got it?"

"'kay dad"

"When I'm not around you're responsible for your mom deal? Gotta make sure she's in good hands when I'm not around"

"I gotchu dad, don't worry"

Ok listen, I'm kicking my feet thinking about Miles tuning his uncle's Ducati (and prob Aaron has a Ducati Scrambler. I do not take criticism), while listening music I'm just *giggling like a schoolgirl*

Btw I feel like if Miles ever had a motorcycle for his personal use and not for Prowler activities, it would be a Kawasaki Ninja or a Yamaha XSR 900. For Prowler activity honestly, he would have a Hayabusa bc it's fast as fuck, with purple neon lights like his Prowler suit. you cannot argue with me. I feel like it was a way of him and his uncle spend time together before his dad died

Miles prob is always tinkering with the titanium claws and his paraphernalia. (I love this word btw)

So yeah prob hes always with his uncle doing shit on the motorcycle or his suit while listening music or sum, or practicing boxing together.

And I bet his mom slapped them two when she once arrived and saw Aaron teaching Miles how to pilot a bike

"What you're doing with my son Aaron!" *that one meme of a man slapping the player on the shoulder*

"Ouch ouch! I'm just teachin' the kid how to pilot Rio, I surrender I surrender!"

"¿Y tú? ¿Qué diablos está en tu mente, Miles? ¡Montando una motocicleta! What am I going to do with you Miles Gonzalo Morales?!"

"¡Cálmate mamá! Uncle Aaron was just teachin' me, no es gran cos- ouch! Mom that hurts!"

Speaking of which, Mama Rio has insane strength on her arms (being a nurse demand a lot of strength to carry patients, changing their clothes, helping them bathe and all), that being said, when Mama Rio get ✨la chancla✨ oh boy, run, no kidding, run

(Everytime my mom grabbed her havaianas I runned more than Usain Bolt. I still do honestly)

I have a feeling that Miles knows how to cook, like he always knew. Arroz con pollo? Bet, does it with eyes closed. Fancy meals? Oh boy he's probably the only guy that the women of the family let inside the kitchen to help with Christmas banquet.

He eat his veggies, hates wasting food, it's not a picky eater but don't put pickles on his burger for the love of God.

Bet his nana tried to give him a bit of coquito without his mom seeing. (I hc his nana is one of those old lady that are a menace to society)

"Take a sip don't worry, No one is watching"

"No nana I'm all good"

"¡Mamá! Take this away from Miles."

Since his dad passed away he understood quite early that now he is the man in the house, that now he's the one to take care of his mom. So he started paying more attention to the chores. His mom is on duty? He's putting some music and cleaning the house, changing the blankets of his mom's bed, and probably making something for her to eat when she come back.

Prob has his mom schedule on his phone to make sure he knows where she is so it wouldn't risk her seeing his as the Prowler and he can watch out from the buildings while Rio walks to her work

Sunday family lunch was usual at Miles' house, his dad 'helping' his mom with the food (he just looked and passed her the ingredients), while Miles set the table. Music on the radio, enjoying the day before Miles need to go back to Brooklyn Visions.

Prefer more salty foods than sweets. Likes eating steak, it doesn't matter if it's BBQ or carne assada, he likes meat. For sweets, he's obsessed with the way his mom does Tembleque (sorry Abuelita Gloria)

We know his room is quite similar to 1610 Miles, but I feel like he doesn't have as many toys as 1610 Miles does. He sold some and used the money to help his mom somehow, he just doesn't want to be a burden for her.

I feel like he doesn't give his mom the money, he straight up pays the bill, or does groceries, so there's no way his mom can deny it. That or he gives the money to his uncle and they pretend that it is Aaron helping them.

It's confirmed by the artbook that Miles Prowler is a vigilante. That being said I think he decided to be the Prowler to help his place somehow, maybe even to make his dad proud, and to make his mom's life easier (just imagine the amount of people that get in the hospital because of how dangerous is the city now my god).

His mom is the priority in his life, he loves his family, his neighborhood and his friends. He's a kind soul with a shattered heart.

Miles is a quite good student. Not the '🤓☝️ actually that's happened at 09:12 in 1786…' type of smart, but the fast thinking kind of smart student. If he doesn't remember the formula he uses logical thinking. Prob takes classes ahead of his years and since he's always tinkering with his uncle his grades in calculus related stuff are pretty high.

Very good with Spanish by the way. Since his dad passed away he started learning more and more to speak with his mom in her native language to make her feel more 'at home' somehow.

I feel like in the first week after his dad passed away he slept in his house for some time and not in Brooklyn Visions dorms, he wished to be with his mom. He did not want her to be alone on her bed, mourning hi dad's death. Abuelita Gloria stayed some months with them too to help her daughter and to help Miles

Miles do his best to be organized, make his bed everyday after waking up, his cabinet is always organized, his Jordans are clean and probably have a collection of them on a shelf in his room. The only messy place on his room is his desk

Has a vinyl collection, don't argue with me. There's literally a bunch of vinyls in his room, guys.

Has some old Puerto Rican singers vinyls on his room thanks to Abuelita Gloria

Miles sings a bit, and have quite a melodic baritone voice. For my synesthetic friends, his voice sounds like honey, Miles is most of times humming when he's making upgrades on his claws

He's more athletic than 1610 Miles. Parkour, boxing and playing basketball with his neighbors and uncle

Started parkour because of his prowler activities to keep up with his uncle, same with boxing, after all he needed to defend himself and his mom. I don't doubt he knows krav maga too and I also don't doubt he taught his mom self defense.

Bought his mom a self defense kit

Uncle Aaron teached him forbidden movements in jiu jitsu, I take zero criticism on that one

Miles has a hard time sleeping sometimes, doesn't shift much when sleeping and has a knife under his pillow or something both in his house room and in Brooklyn Visions.

Loves, love, loves kids, as i said he's a kind soul with a shattered heart, and I think he's quite good with kids, and scares the shit of some at the same time.

I feel 'angry painter' vibes from him. He sketches and all but I feel like he's more of a painter and graffiti kind of guy. I do think he knows how to play bass or piano btw

Would get piercings on his ear and tongue, yes. But since he's the Prowler it would be troublesome because of the time that takes to heal

The old ladies of the neighborhood love him, he's kind to them, and always scare away weird looking guys

Is the crush nextdoor of almost every girl on the neighborhood

One time he scared the shit out of a creep on his neighborhood. Punched the guy so bad that dislocate the man's jaw. Since then he need to hide himself on valentine day, the good part about it is that he got a lot of chocolate to eat.

Seems like a bad boy all the time but he's an introvert. Miles do his best to don't get attached to people bc he doesn't want to drag them into his world or risk people he loves

He just don't want see people dying anymore, that's why he does what he does, to make the world a little bit safe, even if it's just a bit

@matcha-flavored-cake © • do not copy, translate or use as your own

[aaknopf]

Martyr!, the poet Kaveh Akbar’s propulsive debut novel, tells the tale of Cyrus Shams, the son of a lost mother (victim of a 1988 U. S. Naval snafu in the Persian Gulf that killed 290 people on a commercial airliner) and the long-suffering father who emigrated to Fort Wayne, IN with his baby boy. We meet Cyrus as a student of poetry at Keady University and a reformed addict. In this excerpt, he’s at the local open mic with his friends; we also share one of the poems from Cyrus’s bookofmartyrs.docx, helpfully supplied by Akbar, the poet behind the fictional poet.

. .

The Naples Tuesday night open mic had become a mainstay of Cyrus and Zee’s friendship. It was a small affair, not much to distinguish it from the myriad other open mics happening elsewhere in the country—except this was their open mic, their organic community of beautiful weirdos—old hippies singing Pete Seeger, trans kids rapping about liberation, passionate spoken-word performances by nurses and teenagers and teachers and cooks. As with any campus open mic, there was the occasional frat dude coming to play sets of smirky acoustic rap covers and overearnest breakup narratives. But even they were welcome, and mostly it felt like a safe little oasis of amongness in the relative desert of their Indiana college town, a healthy way to spend the time they were no longer using to get drunk or high.   Naturally, Naples didn’t have its own sound equipment, so Zee would usually show up fifteen minutes early with his beat-up Yamaha PA to set up for Sad James, who hosted every week. Sad James was called this to distinguish him from DJ James, a guy who cycled nightly through the campus bars. DJ James was not a particularly interesting artist, but he was well-known enough in the campus community to warrant Sad James’s nominative prefix, which began as a joke but somehow stuck, and to which Sad James had grown accustomed with good humor, even occasionally doing small shows under the name. Sad James was a quiet white guy, long blond hair framing his lightly stubbled face, who played intensely solemn electronic songs, punctuated by sparse circuit-bent blips and bloops, and over time at Keady, he had become one of Zee and Cyrus’s most resilient and trusted friends.   On this night, Cyrus had read a poem early, an older experimental piece from a series where he’d been assigning words to each digit 0–9, then using an Excel document to generate a lyric out of those words as the digits appeared in the Fibonacci sequence: “lips sweat teeth lips spread teeth lips drip deep deep sweat skin,” etc. It was bad, but he loved reading them out loud, the rhythms and repeti­tions and weird little riffs that emerged. Sad James did an older piece where the lyrics “burning with the human stain / she dries up, dust in the rain” were repeated and modulated over molten beeps from an old circuit-bent Game Boy. Zee—a drummer in his free time who idolized J Dilla and John Bonham and Max Roach and Zach Hill in equal measure—hadn’t brought anything of his own to perform that evening, but did have a little bongo to help accompany any acoustic acts who wanted it.   On the patio listening to Cyrus talk about his new project, Zee said, “I could see it being a bunch of different poems in the voices of all your different historical martyr obsessions?” Then to Sad James, Zee added, “Cyrus has been plastering our apartment with these big black-and-white printouts of all their terrifying faces. Bobby Sands in our kitchen, Joan of Arc in our hallway.”   Sad James made his eyes get big.   “I just like having them present,” Cyrus said, slumping into his chair. He didn’t add that he’d been reading about them in the library, his mystic martyrs, that he’d taped a great grid of their grayscale printed faces above his bed, half believing it would work like those tapes that promised to teach you Spanish while you slept, that some­how their lived wisdoms would pass into him as he dreamt. Among the Tank Man, Bobby Sands, Falconetti as Joan of Arc, Cyrus had a picture of his parents’ wedding day. His mother, seated in a sleeved white dress, smiling tightly at the camera while his father, in a tacky gray tux, sat grinning next to her holding her hand. Above their heads, a group of attendees held an ornate white sheet. It was the only picture of his mother he had. Next to his mother, his father beamed, bright in a way that made it seem he was radiating the light himself.   Zee went on: “So you could write a poem where Joan of Arc is like, ‘Wow, this fire is so hot’ or whatever. And then a poem where Hussain is like, ‘Wow, sucks that I wouldn’t kneel.’ You know what I mean?”   Cyrus laughed.   “I tried some of that! But see, that’s where it gets corny. What could I possibly say about the martyrdom of Hussain or Joan of Arc or whoever that hasn’t already been said? Or that’s worth saying?”   Sad James asked who Hussain was and Zee quickly explained the trial in the desert, Hussain’s refusing to kneel and being killed for it.   “You know, Hussain’s head is supposedly still buried in Cairo?” Zee said, smiling. “Cairo, which is in which country again?”   Cyrus rolled his eyes at his friend, who was, as Cyrus liked to remind him when he got too greatest-ancient-civilization-on-earth about things, only half Egyptian.   “Damn,” Sad James said. “I would’ve just kneeled and crossed my fingers behind my back. Who am I trying to impress? Later I could call take-backsies. I’d just say I tripped and landed on my knees or something.”   The three friends laughed. Justine, an open mic regular whose Blonde on Blonde–era pea-coat-and-harmonica-rack Bob Dylan act was a mainstay of the open mic, came outside to ask Zee for a cigarette. He obliged her with an American Spirit Yellow, which she lit around the corner as she began speaking into her cell phone.   In moments like these Cyrus still sometimes felt like asking to bum one too—he’d been a pack-and-a-half-a-day smoker before he got sober, and continued his habit even after he’d kicked everything else. “Quit things in the order they’re killing you,” his sponsor, Gabe, told him once. After a year clean he turned his attention to cigarettes, which he finally managed to kick completely by tapering: from one and a half packs a day to a pack to half a pack to five cigarettes and so on until he was just smoking a single cigarette every few days and then, none at all. He could probably get away with bumming the occasional cigarette now and again, but in his mind he was saving that for something momentous: his final moments lying in the grass dying from a gunshot wound, or walking in slow motion away from a burning building.   “So what are you thinking then? A novel? Or like . . . a poetic mar­tyr field guide?” asked Zee.   “I’m really not sure yet. But my whole life I’ve thought about my mom on that flight, how meaningless her death was. Truly literally like, meaningless. Without meaning. The difference between 290 dead and 289. It’s actuarial. Not even tragic, you know? So was she a martyr? There has to be a definition of the word that can accom­modate her. That’s what I’m after.”

More on this book and author:

Learn more about Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar.

Browse Kaveh Akbar's poetry collections and follow Kaveh on Instagram @kavehakbar.kavehakbar.

Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

[schumi-nadal]

Lmao, Canal+ interviewed Fabio and asked him why he resigned with Yamaha and they showed him a video where Marc asked, while laughing "What did they promise (to you)?"

Yeah, we also want to know Marc, go on and make fun of our floppy boy

[effervescentdragon]

because this was the first thing i saw when i woke up, and i can't not 🙈

"Bye-bye Honda," Pecco says and Mark's heart speeds up.

"No, why?" he says with a laugh that wants to stop in his throat, but he's had training, he's been doing this for too long to react in any meaningful way. Jorge is laughing, but he's keeping quiet, thankfully. Pecco is a fucking bastard, but Marc can take a joke, even when it's not a joke at all.

Pecco doesn't stop there. Of course he doesn't, the fucking asshole.

"Look, it's the -" Marc sees him wave his hands around, a grin on his face that doesn't bode well. "It's the kiss of Valentino."

Marc's heart stops.

Everybody laughs, including Marc. It doesn't matter that he feels like he's shaking, the pressure in his chest pressing like a bike when it falls on you fully. Everybody laughs, because they're supposed to laugh. It's all for fun. It's all teasing. It's all good sport. Marc wants to wring Pecco's fucking head off but he smiles, the media smile, the half-confused smile, the wide one. The one that says I don't know what this is about but I'm being a good sport about it.

The journalist asks them another question and they push ahead with the interview. There is one downside to the fact that Marc has been doing this for years, and that's that he doesn't need to focus on being interviewed. It's background noise for him, and he follows the talk with no problem.

The whole time, his mind is turning and his heart, shocked into a stop like it always is when he heards that fucking name, has decided to go into opposite direction. The thump of his heart makes it difficult to breathe, but he does. It's what he does. He is Marc Marquez, and he perseveres.

The kiss from Valentino. He'd scoff if he could. Pecco has always been a bastard, but now that he's won, he's even worse. Then again, he's learned from the best, didn't he.

Kiss from Valentino. Marc knows what Pecco is talking about. It's what Vale - he was Vale back then, Vale to Marc, but not anymore, not for a long time now - what Valentino did before he signed with Ducatti. Marc remembers watching Vale going down on his knees and kissing his Yamaha. He remembers the shock of Valentino going to Ducatti. He remembers Vale's frustration with Ducatti for those two years after.

He remembers other things, too.

Marc doesn't know how much Pecco knows. The VR46 Academy boys are a tight knit group, and they all adore Valentino. Of course they do. They're not special in that. Marc adores him too, whenever he doesn't despise him.

He doesn't know how much Pecco knows, but he hopes he doesn't know everything.

"A kiss from Valentino Rossi," Vale had said, "how does it feel?" he had asked, and Marc had laughed, high-pitched and nervous, and leaned in to kiss Vale again. Vale's palm fit perfectly on his face, and his kisses made Marc feel more drunk than any alcohol he consumed.

"Pretty good," he'd said as Vale kissed his way down Marc's neck, "but I need to test it some more to give my final opinion."

Vale had chuckled and pulled back. "You always want more, huh?" Marc had shrugged, and smiled, and pulled Vale closer. "Always," he'd said between the kisses, "what's the point otherwise?"

Vale had said nothing to that, but his eyes were amused and fond. It's been a long time since he looked at Marc like that, but in his memory, Vale only shakes his head and lowers himself down to his knees.

Marc doesn't know how much Pecco knows. He forces himself out of the memory and catches Jorge looking at him. He's not sure what Jorge knows. These days, it seems he is unsure of everything.

He turns his head back to the cameras, and fixes his smile, and ignores his heart, and answers the journalist's question.

[senanatheskenana]

Genshin Street Racers AU

Contains the OG Genshin boys (No inazuma/ Sumeru but may do them later idk)

TW- some implications of sex but not actually smut. Illegal driving. 

Please don’t break the law kids!

~~~~

Kaeya

Kaeya is infamous on the street racing scene. He's known for being unpredictable in the streets, so people often try to stay out of his way in case he drifts to close. He's agile and fearless, a combination that's both got him onto and out of a huge array of problems. 

His car is his baby- an icy blue classic Mustang, modified by the best mechanic in Mondstadt. Thanks to Albedo the car easily does 170mph,   0 to sixty in 3 seconds flat. Kaeya never races a car with a roof up, because he say there's no point without the wind in his face, so each night when he finishes a race, his blue hair is always windswept in that alluring way it had been the night you first met.. 

That's what he told you the first time he met you, shades pushed up his nose, hair completely messed with. He asks you if you've ever seen a car like his and when you say no he asks if you wanna take a ride. And like that, you ditch your friends outside the bar and hop in the passenger seat.

What you didn't expect was to be going 130 miles an hour down the Galesong highway, 'highway to hell' playing loud enough for the whole city to hear. He laughs at you when you grip the door handle like you're gonna fall out the car when he weaves between average, law-abiding drivers.

And when you get back on the unmoving ground, you surprise yourself by telling him you'd d it again.

~~~~

 Diluc

Diluc is not the sort of street racer people want to go against by choice. He's honourable, but he's completely brutal, with a car that breezes past 60 mph in less that 3 seconds. 

He drives a Chevrolet Camaro, all black on the outside, with a sleek vermillion leather interior.  It's honestly a car that completely suits him. 

The windows are tinted black- privacy more for your sake than his. He's adamant that you never stay in the car for a race but, every once in a while, you'll end up in there, wrists pinned to the Italian leather of the back seats as he kisses down your neck, making every moment count before a race begins.

Diluc keeps one of your necklaces around the rear view mirror, his good luck charm dangling like a symbolic air freshener.

~~~~~

Venti

Venti started motorbike racing at the age of 15, stopping and then restarting in his mid 20s after overcoming his alcoholism he developed in his teen years.. He's known as one of the youngest racing legends in Mondstadt.

He rides his Yamaha r1 like it's sationary, sometimes ever being so confident as to take his helmet off just so he can wink at you.  He's small but there's no rider more agile than Venti.

It took Venti a while to garner your affection- multiple races to impress you, even taking you out on his bike, going slower than he ever has before just to keep you safe. 

There's been times where Venti's risks caught up to him. He's legendary but he sometimes forgets that it doesn't mean he's immortal. It's after the close calls that he makes it up to you, leaning you against his bike while he gets to his knees in front of you. It's in those moments that he apologises for the stupid things he does. 

~~~~

Albedo

Albedo doesn't race but he knows a hell of a lot about racing. If anyone in Mondstadt needs a ride modified and chopped, he's their first pick. He's not cheap but that's the price of quality. 

It's in his body shop that you meet him, face smeared in oil as he rolls out frum underneath a car. At first he's only interested in the car, before you roll the window down and stare at him. Oh he's down for it. 

Albedo builds your car like it's his own, because he takes pride in seeing you win in a car he's chopped. Everyone knows it's a Kriedprinz car when it roars to life at the starting line and they shudder in awe.

Though he doesn't do it often, Albedo can drive- WELL. He hardly ever drives with both hands on the wheel because the other is planted on your thigh. If you weren't the owner of the car, you'd think he was the racer.

~~~~

Xiao

Xiao is always testing his limits. He's hardly ever off his bike- and make no mistake, it's fast. It's a Suzuki GSX-r1000, flat black with blue accents and an engine that roars. Easily it reaches 190 but he's always pushing it to the limit.

Xiao's identity was a relative mystery for a long time because he never took his helmet off, even after the races. In fact you were the first person to see his face. 

You had been caught in a dark alley by a group of thugs but before they could do anything, Xiao's bike had sped right between you and them. He rips the helmet off and hands it to you before ordering you to get on. Of course you do, feeling your heart pound in your ears as your arms wrap around his black leather jacket.

His manager, Zhongli often remarks about how you make Xiao more distracted but he always denies this fact, knowing full well that his first thought after and during a race is coming back to you and taking you in the dead of night.

~~~~~

Tartaglia

What a show off Childe is. He'll take any risk as long as it has a pay off of some kind. The adrenaline he gets from maxing out the speed dial is something he craves all the time.

He's a rich bitch who races purely for fun and it irritates people to no end that he's casually a driving prodigy. He drives a Lamborghini Huracan, hardly ever going the speed limit on any road- after all, who would be willing to raise a complaint to the Fatui mafia about one of their Harbingers.

He hardly ever attends a race if you aren’t there to impress. You're the only thing there that interests him. We all know what's on his mind during the races. He's only ever thinking about getting you in the car so you can fool around.

He's had to evade police multiple times for indecent exposure because of his excitable and insatiable nature.

He'll try it on anywhere. Sometimes he's even on the phone with you during a race, telling you about what he plans to do to you. Cocky fucker. 

~~~~

Zhongli

Zhongli's a now retired legend in the street racing community of Liyue, though he still drives from time to time, he really only manages his protégé, Xiao.

He's responsible but he does seemingly dangerous stunts because he's confident he can pull them off. In fact, he's one of the only guys that would be ok with you being in the car during a race.

Zhongli teaches you to drive his Nissan patiently, hands holding yours steady with you on his lap as he pushes the accelerator down and changes gear. Having you so close to him is undoubtedly making things happen but he hasn't shown any signs that he's lost composure.

It's when you meet his fellow street racer legends that things finally become clear as to exactly how renowned Zhongli- Morax was. They always called him his old stage name as a mark of respect. It's also in those moments that you're overcome with pride at seeing and being with such a master driver. And you make sure to call him by his rightful title once you get back in the car.

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 9: 24/7 DYNAMIC [FABIO QUARTARARO X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Fabio and dom!reader. If you're under 18 or uninterested in this, then scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you read here, check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different motorsport person with a different kinky thought, and that thought will be discussed more through answering asks on my blog. So if you read this and have some thoughts of your own, feel free to stop by!

Fabio absolutely thrives when he can do 24/7 dynamics with you, when he can just exist with you in a subby headspace for days at a time, focusing only on being a good boy and listening to you. He thrives on praise and love and when you give that to him, he's as happy as can be.

This is by far his favourite way to spend time between races, because it allows him to train and prep for races without getting stuck in his own head? Before you, Fabio had a bad habit of overtraining and getting lost in the pressure and trying to better his riding to the point of exhaustion during races. He just... he wanted to be good enough.

But now his training is worked into 24/7 days with you. His trainer and riding coach give him his clear schedule and diet for the period, and fabio hands it right over to you. He doesn't make his own schedule or decide when he rests or decide when he trains or what he eats. That's for you to decide. His only job is to be a good boy.

His trainer is a little confused when suddenly he's told he has to speak to you about when fabio will be training instead of with fabio himself, but then he meets fabio for the first one of those sessions and he's so so much happier? He's so settled and pleased and does so well and from there none of his trainers question you at all because it's clear that whatever you're doing is making fabio very happy.

He gets all giddy and excited for days leading up to when he knows he'll have some 24/7 days with you, because he's so excited!! The poor thing has had such a stressful season, trying so so hard to be good and failing time and time again because the Yamaha is just not good enough to allow him to succeed.

Which is why having longer 24/7 dynamic periods are so important this year in particular, because he desperately needs some section of his life where he's still good? He needs to do well, needs feel good in something.

And there is nothing that makes him feel better than when you kiss him softly and call him a good boy.

The moment he gets home, he's dropping his bags onto the floor and throwing himself in your arms. You have to catch him or else you'll both go toppling down onto the floor. And so you immediately have a very happy fabio in your arms, giggling and clinging to you and pressing kisses to your neck because he's so excited!! A whole week of no thoughts!! He's so ready!!!

You gently part from him, welcoming him home and giving him a nice kiss before instructing him to unpack all his bags. You sit on the bed and watch him while he does this, because you know he loves having your eyes on him. He's so happy, smiling to himself as he unpacks even though he usually hates unpacking because you told him to! He's listening to you! He's being a good boy!!

Once that's all done, you praise him for being so good and take him to the bathroom to shower together. Needless to say, he starts to get hard cause he's showering with his dom!! You wait until after the shower to give him some relief, giving him a soft hand job while he sits between your legs and whines directly into your ear.

The rest of the week follows the same pattern, with fabio just listening to whatever you tell him to do. He gets fucked so hard he can't remember his own name every night, and then wakes up to breakfast and goes throughout his day just following you.

By the end of the week he's like a whole new person, so much more certain of his own abilities and feeling so much better about himself because he's a good boy! He's your good boy.

[strikereurekastits]

𝐂𝐃𝐑. 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Note: This is a reupload, my old account being fucky so here we are again!

— Phillip is from Nashville, Tennessee (Bellevue Neighborhood). I do think he moved around a bit because I can see him coming from a family where military service was very common for the men of the family so he also lived in Texas, Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina and Georgia. He seems like the kid that just moved around a lot. — His birthday is June 1st, 1985 — He gives me Gemini vibes — His personality type is ESTP-A — He's a bisexual. — Grew up higher middle class

— He's either Russell Adler's son or related to him, they look pretty similar so like yeah they are probably family. If so related on his paternal side of the family — Phillip was not an only child and had two other siblings, one older and one younger then him. All boys too who have served as well — He wasn't a momma's boy or dad's boy, he was in fact Grandma's boy. He was really close with his grandmother and it's where he learned how to cook. He spent a lot of time with his grandparents and he was their favorite. — In comparison to everyone else I think Graves is about 5'9 or maybe 5'10, him and Soap look to be similar height when we see them together so I lean more 5'10 — Graves definitely has a couple of tattoos, I'm not totally sure what yet but at least placement I feel like his upper arms. He's a business man so he knows having to maintain professionalism with work — He doesn't seem like he played football growing but actually baseball and also on the swim team as well — Graves has ridden horses before, often when he was staying at his grandparents property when he was younger but after enlisting he hasn't been back in the saddle but he knows how to ride — He does in fact own several cowboy hats and probably had one that is themed to Shadow Company too — Graves enlisted in the Marines when he was seventeen and I think in the process went to school and was a business major — He's a truck guy but in a practical sense. He's got two of them, he's got his pretty one and then the one that's actually used for what a truck is used for. The pretty one is the work truck which is a 2017 black chevy Silverado. His other truck is well kept 1979 Chevy Silverado.

— He's a car guy, I think he loved working on them and that's his main hobby. He loves doing the restoration process and takes great pride in what he does. His house has a large garage solely so he can be doing that. — He definitely is into motorcycles but I can see him being more into the sports ones. I think he grew up having a dirt bike at some point and that love for them as also stayed through out his life. He's got a black YAMAHA YZF R6 that he usually drives during the late spring, summer and into late fall. — He's animal guy™. I feel like he if he was around more often then not he'd have plenty of them. He's the type to bring home strays or show up back with a new puppy in tow. He's got a soft spot for them and loves them. He'd probably own a thoroughbred gelding named Ace at some point in his life too. — Graves isn't exactly a lightweight when it comes to drinking but he's also not kicking back shots getting ten down and just barely feeling a buzz. He drinks, not frequently but can handle his liquor decently well. He'd a whiskey and bourbon guy. — Graves and Oz are close, it's why he trusted Oz to take over. I feel like Oz is probably the closest Graves has gotten to having a best friend. He's made friends but he never had a best friend but he finds that in Oz. They are practically brothers. — He's not exactly superstitious but I do feel like he holds someone the Appalachian superstitious do to his grandmother and grandfather on both sides holding them but he's mostly a skeptic on stuff. — He's agnostic from a family of Christians, his family aren't God fearing people and taught their boys to respect others and who they are. He stopped stepping into a church when he was about fourteen. — There's never an explanation to the scar on his cheek and the clip in his ear but I think it was extremely close call when he was Marine Raider with a sniper. If he had just been moved over a little bit more or didn't move, he wouldn't have been there. He thinks a lot about it when he looks at it. It's a reminder of where he had been and how far he's come. — Graves still wears his old dog tags plus the ones that get issued to Shadow Company soldiers. He takes pride in the ones from the Marines and holds them close to his heart. He always wears them or has them on his person when he's on missions. He was a marine and he's always going to be a marine. — He's an occasionally smoker, I don't think it's frequent but he does occasionally smoke especially if he gets insanely stressed out but he probably curbs a lot of it with vaping. He's perfectly is Marlboro Blacks or American Spirits Black. — While he hasn't lived really the country life before, I do think he does own a home out in Tennessee and a property in Wyoming that's out there in the country. He may not have been raised in it, Graves falls into the hard working lifestyle that comes from the country and one day hoped to retire to it with a family of his own too. — Graves has had relationships here and there over the years, plenty of flings and hookups but nothing that's probably lasted then about year and half. I think he's a loyal guy, he wants something genuine and connection. I don't think he's a cheater, once he settles on someone he's a ride or die kind of guy.

[fabiochampioraro]

2023 is ending, fucking finally, so  i want to thank all of you mutuals and not that shared happiness, pain, love, sadness, laughs and tears with me. You guys are the greatest friends i could’ve met!

To the juveblr @fedechiesa @vlahovic​ @forzadybala @lawsandother @awesomebitchyuniverse @galaxykhaleesi @garciapimienta @football-sucks @scharletred @capitano-ale @capitanogiorgio @cnolan @littlevals13 @donbianconero @fentybucky​ @ruben-dias​ @petitprince16​ @bestemmiedigigi​ @onetouchparadise @liverpool-enjoyer @giuventus thanks for loving the idiots just as much as i do, last season was long and difficult but it was easier dealing with it with you. I hope this next year will be much better.

@daria-trubnikova @bessonova @uncreativepastasauce @tutyayilmazz @deathtest @jennibeultimate @halkinasclubs @apirilinn @afanasyevas @urara-ashikawa @www98vikitoo​ @bestonova-rg​ @czarinakanaeva @cherry-sandwich @prelude-numero-2 thanks for your kindness and passion our comunity here may be small but it's an healthy one, we may like different gymnasts more but we cheer and enjoy for everyone. I can't wait to see what the olympic season has in store for us!

@celestinovietti @motopg @danipedrosa @fabioquartararhoe @colton-herta @usermarquez @cheekyoreo @waru-chan8 @raulfernandez @juri-andthemoon @nyehhh-h @yosoytess​ @fabioquartarar0 @lastonthebrakes @mcrmarvelloki @herotovillain @febookworm @du-bist-jetzt-mein @thedutchgirl46 @ferrarism @slaysicle​ ​@wdcmaxy @spin-in-the-hairpin @motogeepee @espargabruh @racing-twinks @pgaslys @flyingfabio @captainbradmarchand @distinguishedfifty @marquez-quartararo20 @schumi-nadal @aereres @georgerussellls @piastrieds @landoom @formula-red @cathedralofspeed @agnst-crrnt @lil-italian-disappointment literally one of the least toxic fandoms i've been part of, all of you are super nice we may have different faves but we never lost respect for those boys riding fast bikes that could kill them. Thanks y'all, and yamaha you better give Fabio a decent bike so he could make his resolution come true.

@oscar-piastri @youmustlovehim @lxndonorris @goalkepa @chanoeys @julielilac @sharlsleclerc @hopeful-green @jordanas-diary @isthisatlantis @berlinbabylon @to-dare-is-to-do you don't it in a specific category but any of you made my days with your messages, posts, friendship.

To anyone i might have forgotten, it wasn’t my intention and i’m sorry. If we talked/interacted in the past 365 days please know that i love and appreciate you so much! Happy new year guys, i hope 2024 will be kind with y’all and give you the happiness you all deserve my friends! 💙💙💙💙💙💙

[kingofthering]

@moonshynecybin I was about to send you an ask but then it got long and tumblr was all about characters limit and whatever, so, making this a text post.

I was having thoughts about the insanity that must be going on inside of Marc's brain in the forced to come out AU and then I saw your "last Rosquez sex pre-Sepang" ask and it gave me even more thoughts.

In my head, Marc is unable to have meaningless or hate sex meanwhile Valentino can go for it easily (or so he thinks until our protagonist meets Marc, anyway) so obviously, Valentino is the one who guides them into sleeping together again in 2016 (can't decide if it's as early as the tests or if maybe Barcelona makes his last reserve break or something but— details). And if he promised himself in October of 2015, that this was the last time he was having sex with Marc, but then he lets them be together again and that leads them to being caught? Well, I am not an expert in Valentino & guilt but that sure is something interesting to consider.

Do I believe that Valentino is agreeing to the fake dating plan out of guilt? Maybe just a tiny bit. For the most part it's because he cares about Marc and can't stand to see him go through this alone/in the worst way possible (not that he can recognize that at the beginning, of course, but you know).

I loved that you mentioned the idea of Yamaha telling Valentino he could deal with this alone/didn't have to go with the plan with Marc (and it would of course be easier for him). There is a part of me that wants to push things and say the photos identify Marc very clearly but like, there could be ~reasonable doubts about Vale (not to take things too far and make him too much of a "hero" here but, that's an option, I guess).

Anyway, back to what this was originally supposed to be about : Marc's brain. All considerings, things went like this :

the man he idolized all his life became his friend and then they started having sex and Marc thought they at least were friends and understood each other in the fields that mattered to him

same man betrayed him in front of the whole world and basically called him a dangerous rider that he doesn't want to share tracks with him [and obviously this leads to all the backlash Marc had to go through but I think what stung the most, at the end of the day, was the realization that Valentino thought of him like that]

at the end of the day, I don't think Marc is one to hold grudges [or I am projecting my own self here, my bad] and if Valentino comes up to him and wants him in some kind of way? of course Marc is going to take what he can have, even if he quickly realizes Valentino is not open to the two of them talking

Valentino agreeing to the two of them fake dating? it makes absolutely zero sense, there is a part of Marc that sees this as a sign of hope and it's bad because the last time Marc hoped they had a good thing going on, Valentino destroyed him in public without any kind of warning

"Risk Management is new to the Marc Marquez system" is a quote that I absolutely adore and that he let out into the world in 2023 but I can see home boy showing some kind of self-preservation in this scenario [and Marc initially struggling to be close to Vale (like you showed so well in your short post) is part Marc not being a good actor/feeling uncomfortable demonstrating PDA in public and part Marc trying to protect himself from his own feelings for Vale] [is Marc aware of the extent of his feelings? of course not, but still]

also, like, let's be real, this is the whole fantasy Marc never really allowed himself to think about and to "live" it in those conditions? yeah, not exactly easy on the heart and brain

I have no idea where I was going with all that but in any case, I know they have a fight one day where Valentino is like "Marc, you need to put in more efforts" and "I'm doing this for you" [he didn't mean for those words to come out but oops] and that has Marc calling him out on his hypocrisy.

On a very unrelated note, I'm very curious about when they have sex again in this AU (or even when they kiss, will have to think about that).