#Lance Charger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

judes-hoe · 2 months

Text

Bitter rivals,Sweet love

Parrings~ Lewis Hamilton x oc

Summary~ She’s gonna be in f1 for her third year and goes to a team no one expects her to. She’s always got a cold expression and only those close to her know why. Shes been close one to many times to winning a championship and this year she’s gonna get it no matter what.

Warnings~ mutual mastrabation, making out, consent is asked for.

A/N~ CHAPTER 7 SHIT IS GETTING REAL

Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa looked at Toto like he had just stabbed her. “The fuck your mean the FIA is checking my car?” She said getting frustrated. “Calm down, they said that something might not match the measurements in your front wing.” Toto explained.

They sat there for almost an hour before they got answers. Vanessa got a penalty and moved back on the grid to p15, she was furious. Her team had checked the car multiple times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was later at night Vanessa at the hotel laying in her bed scrolling on her phone. Lewis laying in his bed, but she couldn’t deny the tension anymore.

“Are we going to pretend that what happened a few days ago didn’t happen.” Vanessa asked out the blue. “Listen kid, you needed someone and I helped you, what they said wasn’t right, I helped you now let’s go back to normal.” He said and put his phone on his charger before turning his back to her. “Got it, you’re right, just wanted to help the hopeless kid who can’t defend herself.” She whispered to herself and also plugged her phone in turning to her side.

Lewis just let out a sigh hearing her words but doesn’t say anything. And like that they both go to sleep with tension still in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Race day! Vanessa showed up to the paddock ready for this race, she had her confidence up and was ready to prove everyone wrong.

She did her pre race rituals and all that good stuff. Then she was in the car doing a formation lap. P15 she started, she was ready to dominate this race. The grid was now in their places after the formation lap. Vanessa watched the red lights turn on one by one, patiently waiting. As soon as the lights turned off she was off immediately gaining two lap.

Over the course of the first five laps she overtook to p9. Now behind lance, wasn’t that hard to overtake. Now behind Checo, another easy overtake. P6 behind Carlos which was hard as she tried to overtake him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the 60th lap, 3 laps left of the race Vanessa was p2 behind max and was gaining speed in him. In her mind she knew she might just get podium again, but something else was saying she was gonna win. She was .978 seconds behind max, they crossed the line. 2 laps left, she pushed as hard as she could.

.865 seconds as she uses her DRS when she could and is now .372 seconds behind. They passed the finish line again. 1 lap left. Vanessa gave it her all to pass max. Between turn four and five she finally passed him.

“Push Vanessa push!” Calvin came on the radio. Vanessa pushed her car and built a 1.736 second gap between her and max for the rest of the race.

As she crossed that finish line Calvin came back on the radio. “Vanessa you did it! You did it! God you did it! You won your first home race!” Vanessa couldn’t hold the tears back. “I did it Calvin…I-i did it, for them this is for them, and to prove everyone who thought i couldn’t do it, they can all fuck off!” Vanessa said through tears and sniffles. “Oh okay now watch the language lady.” Calvin said with a laugh.

Vanessa pulled up to the P1 spot with max at p2 and Lando at p3. Vanessa couldn’t get out her car quicker and stood at the front of her car and pointed at the sky. She then race to Mercedes who were waiting behind the barriers. She jumped over the barrier and they all hug and pat her back. All say something like ‘you did it!’ Or ‘congratulations!’. It was like a dream come true to her.

As she was set down she took her helmet off and put the Mercedes cap on drinking her water. She could feel eyes on her, not from the team or other drivers, but him. She look in the direction and saw him standing with a soft smile and nodding at her.

She did her interview and was answering the questions she was asked. “I mean it’s like a dream come true, finally winning my home race. I mean i obviously wish they were here to see this but I know they’re watching over with smiles. But I couldn’t be happier, this will always be-“ she was cut off by a tap on her shoulder, she looked and saw Ferrari team principal, Fred Vasseur, he was holding an Italian flag for her. She happily took it and gave him a hug before continuing her interview.

She took on the top step, listening as the Italian anthem played. She looked up in the sky with a smile closing her eyes, the Italian flag from earlier was wrapped around her like a cape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late at night, partying with most of the grid and some of the Mercedes people. She had one drink, just a fruity drink as a treat for winning. It was midnight when the party had sorta died down, she had Daniel walk her back to the hotel to make sure she got back safe.

She walked into the hotel room and saw Lewis just on his phone. “Here you are, surprised you weren’t at the party?” She said going in her suitcase. “Didn’t feel like it.” He responded blankly. “Normally you’re a party type of guy?” She said but then she realized. “Is it because the party was basically for me?” She looked at him with a smirk. “No.” He scoffed.

There was a tension in the room but they didn’t know what. “You’re really that stubborn to not go to a party that’s about me?” She slightly teased him walking over to his bed. “No I just wasn’t in the mood alright?” He sat up and watched her walk closer to him.

They just stared at each other and Lewis stood in front of her. “You feel the tension too?” He asked looking in her eyes. “Yeah.” Was all she said and he smashed his lips on her holding her face in his hands. It was like a relief when he kissed her, she relaxed and kissed back. The kiss lasted for a moment before he pulled away. “You’re not like drunk or tipsy right?” He asked wanting to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of her. “No, no I’m not, I don’t drink.” She said and looked at him with honesty in her eyes.

He then kissed her again a little deeper this time, he then laid her on the bed and his hands moved down her body. He then pulled away again. “You sure you want this?” He asked a little out of breath. Vanessa nods her head. “I’m sure Lewis, I can’t deny the tension anymore.” She said softly and her hands moved to the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head and throws it to the side.

They fully undressed themselves, Lewis lays next to Vanessa but in his side. His hand traveling down and teases her by rubbing her thigh. He’s kissing her neck, she then takes her hand that’s trapped between their bodies and reaches down and starts to jerk him off. It makes him let out a breathy moan and he slips his fingers inside her.

He has two fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb. Her hand speeding up around his cock. “Being such a good girl for me, always wanted to know what your had would feel like around me.” He said and sped his fingers up inside her making her moan a little louder. “Lewis, feels so good, please!” She said feeling her stomach tighten signaling she’s close. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers sweetheart, gonna cum for me?” He teased and rub his thumb faster over her clit.

She speeds her hand up on his cock. “Want you to cum with me.” Vanessa said between whines, he just smiles against her neck. “Shit Lewis I’m cumming!” She moans out, Lewis sits up more and smashes his lips on her to quiet her moans. As she finished her climax he slows his fingers down riding it out of her and he soon cums on his stomach and her hand. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean before kissing her neck again. “Did such a good job for me.”

He then clean you both up, putting a pair of boxers on and helping you dress back up. Just as he went to lay in his bed you spoke up. “Stay in my bed, please.” She said quietly as she was about to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: probably my longest chapter yet😭

Taglist: @tallrock35 @itsmrshamilton

#judes-hoe😚#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #f1 2024 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mercedes amg f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

85 notes · View notes

nico-di-genova · 4 months

Text

A Lesson in Braking

AKA: Strollonso College AU, this time with a name! Warnings: Smut, at the very end, so if you don't want to read that bit it's literally the very end bit, just skip that altogether.

Chapter 1

The problem with street racing, Lance thinks, is that it is entirely reliant on the people around you being aware of their surroundings. Which, in a state full of retirees who can barely see past their steering wheels, much less their side mirrors, is an impossibility. So Lance shouldn’t be surprised that he’s almost sideswiped when he’s doing 130 in a 65 by a white Honda Civic with a geriatric behind the wheel. He shouldn’t be, and yet when he swerves back over into the far side of the left lane to avoid being flattened, the bike still nearly goes out from under him anyway.

He fights every instinct not to brake and lock up, to lose it and go sliding across the pavement with only his padded jacket and jeans to protect him.

"Jesus Christ!” comes the panicked, staticky voice through his helmet from the Bluetooth connected to his phone, along with the worried yells of everyone else inside the car.

The red Dodge Charger that was chasing Lance seconds before slows in the lane behind him, gives him enough space that if he does fall he won’t be run over like road kill – he can hear the tires of the muscle car screeching on the pavement, the horns from the traffic behind them. Pato, thankfully, is not an eighty year old with failing eyesight. He is, however, the reason that Lance had been swerving through traffic in the first place.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Pato laughs, deliriously.

Lance’s fingers are shaking around the handlebars of the bike, leather-gloved hands so tight around them that he can feel the tension in his body. He tries to breathe out, and an equally insane laugh escapes him.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” Lance sighs, laughs again, thinks his heart might be beating so fast it’s on the verge of failing, “Y-yeah. I think so.”

“What the fuck?” Pato repeats again.

Welcome to Florida, Lance thinks, flashes a shaky thumbs up to Pato behind him just to ensure the man, and his car full of people, know he’s okay – even if he doesn’t quite feel it yet. He didn’t lose the bike, which he figures counts for something.

“That was insane,” Pato continues.

“That was stupid!” Esteban corrects.

Lance eases the bike back up to speed in response, shoots past the Honda Civic that nearly killed him, and flicks the old man hunched behind the wheel off as he goes.

----------

Fort Myers, Lance quickly learns within his first semester at school, is fucking boring. FGCU, pitched to him as an idyllic campus set along the Gulf Coast, is actually in a swamp. And technically, he’s not even in the city of Fort Myers at all, but Estero – a town no one’s heard of but has somehow managed to house some of the wealthiest people Lance has ever encountered, himself included. He feels he can hardly be blamed for racing his motorcycle through the streets during rush hour traffic just to feel something other than the monotony of flat land and the oppressive heat he’s been stuck in for the majority of the past three years, and getting pulled over in the process. His father, who pays for each ticket with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, does not seem to agree.

Which is exactly why he has no plans of telling the man about his near-death experience. Lawrence didn’t even want him to get the bike in the first place, still threatens to seize it with the steady growing pile of tickets. Lance endures the lectures over the phone with the patience bestowed upon him by being a good son, and then hangs up to do burnouts with Pato in the parking lot of their apartment complex. He’s unbothered by near-death at the hands of the old man, but Esteban, when he climbs out the backseat of Pato’s cramped charger, is not.

“You’re insane,” he says, thwacking Lance on the side of his helmet.

Lance, working the strap through the clasp so he can ease the thing off his head, winces, “Ow.”

“Idiot!”

“I was in my lane!” Lance justifies, even if he was nearing 160 km/h in that lane and was definitely exceeding a safe level of speeding. He hates to lose though, especially to Pato, who would hold it over his head at the next mixer. Lance has endured enough ridicule from his frat brothers for all the races he’s lost, he doesn’t want to add Pato’s fraternity to the mix.

Esteban wouldn’t get it, he’s not in a frat at all.

“You were barely in the lane!”

“Close enough.”

“You shouldn’t have a license,” Esteban grumbles, eyes Lance’s bike like it is a sentient being that willfully chose to do twice the speed limit, and not Lance himself that controlled it. Lance can still smell the burning rubber coming off the tires, feel the heat from the engine. It’s familiar to him in the way the sweaty leather smell from his hands when he slides the gloves off is.

He shrugs, “Neither should half the people in this state.”

“It’s true,” Pato chimes in, coming up behind Lance to pat him on the back. His hand thunks against the padding of Lance’s jacket, sends him rocking forward against the bike. “Glad you’re okay, güero.”

“You two especially though,” Esteban grumbles. Lance just thinks he’s still upset he doesn’t have a car of his own to race, despite the fact that Lance has offered his own on multiple occasions. It hardly gets used, because he hates sitting in traffic, and Esteban would probably be doing him a favor by taking it. But money has been a thing between them since freshman year, since it was established that Lance had a lot of it, and Esteban little, and the dorm room they shared became a space where discussions of finances were forbidden – a sentiment that soon reached through their entire friendship. Esteban still lives in the apartment style dorms on campus, Lance now has a luxury one-bedroom in the newest off-campus unit. His car sits in the parking lot more often than it runs and Esteban walks to class.

“If dumbass here keeps getting tickets he might not have to worry about a license at all,” Pato teases, smirks at Lance as Lance runs a hand through his hair to try to dissuade the helmet hair from setting in and pointedly ignores him. He busies himself with unzipping his jacket, rolling his shoulders and stretching enough to ease the lingering tension from his joints. His shirt rides up with the movement.

Esteban looks away, Pato stares, and the freshman he’s let tag along, David, stands awkwardly beside them because he isn’t sure what else to do. Lance smiles at him, tight, forced, equally as unsure. The kid’s lanky, blonde, curly hair nearly gold in the sunset. One of the new pledges, or someone Pato is trying to recruit, because in their small circle Pato is the only one social enough to actually want the job of recruitment chairman.

“Sorry for almost dying in front of you,” he apologizes to the kid.

David shrugs, “It’s cool. You’re not hot in that thing?” He points at Lance’s jacket with a cast wrapped wrist, the black fabric with grey and white accents.

It’s late August now, summer still working its way into fall. Lance was not raised in the heat, returns to Canada during the break between semesters so he doesn’t have to bear the worst of it, so he is distinctly uncomfortable. His shirt is sticking to his skin with sweat, and he can feel tendrils of it working in steady drops down his spine, soaking into the waistband of his jeans, but he’d rather wear the heavy jacket than have to cart it around for the entire time they’re standing ogling at cars. Or rather, Pato ogling, he and Esteban hanging back to talk about dinner plans. He likes cars in that they can get him from one destination to the next, doesn’t care to talk about them outside of that.

“It’s manageable,” he shrugs, tucks his helmet under one arm and starts walking toward the closed off section of the outlets, where cars are already parked and lined-up.

Pato doesn’t suggest Lance leave the gear in his car, despite it being an easy solution, he knows Lance likes the looks it draws. Lance had drunkenly admitted as much one night, when Pato was straddling his lap and kiss his neck because there were no other options. They had grown accustom with becoming each other’s last resort, hooking up in bedrooms of stranger’s houses or in the back of Pato’s car because the number of girls at parties they frequented far outweighed the available, and interested, men. He smirks at Lance over the top of David’s head as they walk toward the row of cars with popped open hoods – a glint of knowing in his far too mischievous eyes.

They’ll probably hook-up later. Unless Esteban finally feels like kissing him, or the freshman stops being a freshman, both of which are likely to happen when hell freezes over.

“Looks heavy,” David says.

“It is.”

Pato’s smirk widens, “He’s used to it.”

“Go look at your stupid cars, man,” Lance rolls his eyes, shoots Pato a warning look.

It’s the Aston Martin that draws Pato’s attention first. Silver, brown leather interior, the type of car Lance’s dad would own – if he doesn’t already. Lance lost track of the collection long ago, lost interest too, much to his dad’s disappointment. Lawrence wanted him to get into racing professionally, which Lance entertained for all of two seconds before he realized just how far his dad wanted him to go. Then it all felt like too much too fast, and Lance realized he was maybe more content hiding in the Florida swamp land for four years instead. Time he is rapidly running out of.

“You didn’t want to race on a track, but you’ll do it in the street,” he can hear his father’s voice chiding. Lance doesn’t know how to explain there’s more freedom in the street racing, less control, and substantially more danger but a higher reward. No one knows him under the helmet either, not in the way they would if his name was tied to a team and a car and all the responsibility that came with it.

David goes with Pato, both of them studying the engine of the car. The owner, thankfully, isn’t around. Lance doubts they’d like the way Pato goes to duck his head in through the driver’s side door.

Lance shoots Esteban a look, “I feel like you should be more into this,” he says, leans over enough to poke the man in the side with an elbow. Esteban is one of the few people in his friend group who is the same height as him. Which was the first thing they’d bonded over, the second was the fact that they both spoke French. Esteban more fluently, but Lance enough that most their conversations were shared in the language.

“Why?” Esteban asks, eyeing the Aston the same way he had Lance’s bike, like it is likely to reach out and bite him. “Do not say because of the engineering.”

“A little because of the engineering?”

“No.” Esteban is the smartest of them, which Lance has known since he first met him and Esteban introduced himself with a handshake which was quickly followed by, ‘majoring in mechanical engineering.’ His golf management major had sounded silly in comparison, had seemed even sillier once Esteban pulled all-nighters to complete homework for math classes that far exceeded Lance’s skill level while Lance was learning the best techniques for watering grass.

Lance failed a class his freshman year, Esteban passed all of his with what appeared to be ease. Then they both got shitfaced on their last night together and snuck onto the trail that ran from the freshman housing to the upperclassman apartments to share a joint. It had been close to midnight, and every sound that came from the surrounding wilderness had them jumping, but it was maybe the thing that had cemented their friendship.

“You know what you want to do with that yet?” Lance asks, because they’re starting their junior year now. Because the future is becoming something tangible, and so discussing what the fuck they’re supposed to do next seems like the correct thing. Lance still has no idea what he wants to do and thinking of it makes the sweat on the back of his neck run cold, makes the jacket he’s sweltering in seem even hotter.

"Not a clue,” Esteban says, which makes Lance feel a little better, “You?”

“Golf, I guess.” Not much else he can do with his degree, and his business minor had only been something added on at his dad’s request. Lance isn’t passionate about either of those things, isn’t sure he’s passionate about anything. He likes racing, likes his bike, likes spending lazy Saturday mornings on the course, or weekday mornings practicing tennis with his coach, and he’s decently good at all of those things but none of them really seem like a passion.

He is becoming increasingly aware that he is running out of time.

“Professional golfer, Lance Stroll,” Esteban says, draws out Lance’s name to really test the sound of it against PGA pro.

Both of them grimace.

“Maybe not,” Lance amends.

“Could work, maybe.”

“Probably wouldn’t,” Lance isn’t good enough, not for going pro, and he doesn’t plan on putting in the effort to get there for something he cares so little about. “Maybe I’ll just wait for you to secure your fancy engineering job, marry you and live off your paycheck.”

Esteban shoots him a look that reads ‘fuck no’ clear as day.

----------

The sun sets fully somewhere around eight, Lance starts cooling off at the nine p.m. marker. At some point they lose Pato and David, and then Esteban runs into a group from his major, and then it’s just Lance standing in a sea of American sports cars wondering if he should maybe just go home. He’s feigning interest in a Camaro, lime green with black racing stripes, ugly and gaudy, when someone behind him clears their throat.

“You ride?” the person asks, accented and deep and Lance turns to come face to face with a man who looks right at home amidst the crowd of mid-forties dads showing off their hardly impressive rides. Polo, cargo shorts, and a cap sporting some car brand, Lance thinks he looks a lot like the tourists he’d spotted on his brief visit to Orlando last year. He doesn’t look like the sort of guy who would know anything about motorcycles.

“Uh, yeah.” Lance says, shifts the helmet in his hands so he’s got a tighter grip on it. The guy follows the movement, watches Lance’s hand flex, follows the line of his vein up his arm until he reaches Lance’s eyes again.

“What bike?”

Lance swallows, feels a bit like he’s being interrogated with how the guys brown eyes are staring into his.

“Suzuki 650.”

“Your first?”

“Yeah,” the same one he’s had since his freshman year, stored in storage while he’s gone for the summer and then taken back out when he comes back down. It’s reliable, and Lance has other bikes back home, but he likes this one, likes that it feels like he’s worn it in. “It’s custom,” he adds, defensively, can feel this guy sizing him up.

“Yes?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a moment where Lance thinks that might be the end, the guy will decide there’s no further conversation to be had and then be on his way. He isn’t sure if that would be a bad thing or not, is still trying to maintain eye contact and try not to step back any further against the Camaro behind him.

When the guy offers his hand to shake Lance is afraid to take it, knows his free palm is clammy, doesn’t want to give himself away.

“I’m Fernando.”

“Lance,” he shakes, hopes the guy will assume it’s the heat, not the nerves setting Lance on edge. This is the most eye contact he’s had to maintain since his plane landed back in Florida two weeks ago. It’s unyielding too, like the guy is trying to win a contest Lance hadn’t realized he’d entered.

“Lance,” Fernando says, testing it, “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. Do you- do you ride?” Fernando seems to have some understanding, looked decently impressed when Lance mentioned his custom ride. And he wasn’t asking about the cars on display, but instead the bike that Lance wasn’t even near.

Finally he looks away, back to the helmet, back to the way Lance is gripping it with a tightening hold. His mouth, which had before been slanted upward into something close to a smile slips a little. Lance watches the movement, categorizes it the way he does every micro expression, because he’s gotten good at reading people over the years and knows hurt when he sees it.

“I used to.”

“Not anymore?”

“Bad knee,” Fernando explains, motions at his right leg. Lance looks down at where the shorts stop just above the joint, can see the faint white lines of scarring amongst leg hair. Surgical incisions, clean and even.

“Oh.”

Fernando doesn’t look that old, not old enough for knee surgery. There’s lines on his face and grey in his beard, but still plenty of color left alongside it. Dark brown stubble and brown hair curling in the humidity beneath his cap. Lance wouldn’t place him above fifty.

“I’m sorry,” he says, for lack of anything better, and because Fernando keeps glancing at Lance’s helmet with something like envy.

“Is okay,” Fernando says with a shrug, smiles sadly.

And maybe it’s because Lance is feeling lonely, abandoned by his friends, or maybe it’s because something in Fernando’s expression is familiar, he offers, “Do you- do you want to see it? My bike?”

----------

“What happened here?” Fernando asks, pointing at the scuffed paint along the right side of the gas tank, finger tracing the slightly dented spot where matte black has given way to exposed metal.

Lance could have gotten it fixed, but he liked that the bike had character, liked that it was a little imperfect. At least he thought he did, now he just feels like a teenager with their first beat-up car driven off the used car lot.

He laughs, embarrassed, palms at the back of his neck as his cheeks warm, “I, uh, I dumped it freshman year.”

Fernando looks up at him, arches an eyebrow, smiles like he knows the feeling. And then he waits for Lance to continue.

“Yeah, it, uh, it was stupid. Or I was stupid. I was driving around the loop on campus, at school, hit a patch of dirt, it just slid out from under me.” It was his first time falling off the bike, only a week after he had gotten it. And because he’d only been going from the main campus to his dorm he hadn’t bothered to wear gloves, or his jacket, ended up with road burn and an arm ran raw and bloody for his stupidity. He still had some scarring, faint, but there.

"Ouch,” Fernando says, still tracing the damaged spot with an index finger.

Lance watches him, swallows, takes the moment where Fernando isn’t looking at him to study the muscles of his arms straining against the cuff of his polo. And then Fernando shoots him a quick glance and he’s darting to look away like he’s been caught. He maybe has been, if the way Fernando smirks is any indication.

Lance blames Pato, the empty spot in the parking lot where his car was a few hours ago, taking the promise of a blowjob in the backseat with him. And leaving Lance standing in the shadows cast by the street lamps and palm trees dotting the lot, beside a man whose name he knows and little else. When Fernando shifts closer, until his weight is pressing against the side of Lance’s right arm, Lance doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets Fernando get close enough that the smell of him is almost overwhelming, sharp cologne invading his senses.

“So what’s custom?” Fernando asks, snapping Lance back enough that he can focus on the asphalt beneath him and the bike in front of him, enough that he remembers they’re two doors down from a still open Best Buy.

In his mind he is drafting a strongly worded text to Pato, outwardly, he is pointing at all the pieces of the bike that his father had spent a small fortune on and watching Fernando’s impressed expression grow. Fernando doesn’t pull away, Lance doesn’t make space, and when Fernando mentions the Aston Pato had been ogling earlier in the night is his, Lance follows him to it with blatant interest. He pretends to care about the car, up until Fernando asks him if he wants to go for a ride, and he knows he can drop the act.

----------

They end up on the other side of the outlets, tucked beside a dumpster near the Barnes and Noble and an abandoned Asian restaurant. Lance isn’t picky, doesn’t need to be wined and dined, is perfectly okay with grinding against a guy in the backseat of his Aston Martin and letting his sweat soak into the leather. His jacket and helmet have been dumped in the passenger’s seat, his t-shirt pulled over his head and lost somewhere on the floorboard.

Lance is straddling Fernando’s lap, his head bent against the roof of the car, his neck angled just enough that Fernando can get better access to the junction where his jaw meets his carotid. In terms of hook-ups, it’s not his craziest, though Fernando may be the oldest. He didn’t ask for an age, was content enough with Fernando still having color in his hair. And it didn’t much matter once the man got a hand around his cock.

“Fuck,” he pants, grinding down on Fernando’s growing length beneath him before thrusting back up into the warm grip of his hand. His head thunks against the roof with the movement, causing Fernando to laugh, breathy and warm against his neck.

“Come here,” He instructs, pulls down Lance until he’s resting his head against Fernando’s shoulder and curled over. The position severely limits his ability to grind against Fernando, makes it so that he’s the only one deriving any real pleasure from this scenario.

“Is okay,” Fernando says when he tries to voice that, continues to stroke the length of his cock without pause.

Lance bites his bottom lip to muffle a whine. His jeans are the only thing still on him, and just barely, pulled down and pooled around one ankle. Fernando is still fully clothed, obvious bulge in his shorts. Lance feels exposed, raw, so close that he can feel the orgasm building in his stomach.

“I’m close,” he pants, cries almost. It is better than he and Pato’s backseat escapades, better because Fernando smells likes sharp clean cologne and there’s no exercise equipment digging into his back from being pressed into the seats. Better because Fernando twists his wrist a certain way and Lance can’t stop the cry from escaping him.

“Please,” he begs, leans back enough that he can look at Fernando, only to be pulled back in by the nape of his neck – into a bruising kiss that makes him realize he’s maybe never been really kissed before. Fernando tastes how he smells, sharp. When Lance opens his mouth to pant Fernando’s name, it’s the man’s tongue that silences him, licks behind his teeth and explores him like he’s trying to learn the shape of his mouth. Lance lets him, finds he is eager to do so.

Pato doesn’t kiss him, it’s a rule they have, a fragile divide that maintains their friendship. Lance didn’t realize how much he had been missing.

When Fernando pulls away a trail a spit connects them, until it breaks and lands cool and wet against his chin. Lance doesn’t wipe it away, lets it stay there as his eyes flutter open and he’s staring into steady brown, turned dark in the shadows.

“You’re beautiful,” Fernando praises, lips slick with spit and eyes shining with praise, and Lance cums like that. His spine arching, his body tensing, Fernando coaxing him through it until he goes boneless and slack, cum streaked across his stomach and trailing down Fernando’s hand, his arm, dripping onto the leather seats beneath them.

“’m sorry,” he pants, eyes darting to the pearly mess dotting the brown leather, “Your seat.”

Fernando glances at it, uncaring, quickly looks back at Lance and trails a hand down the front of his chest, tracing along the skin as Lance’s chest heaves with the breath he’s trying to regain.

“Don’t worry,” he says, smiles, the same smile he’d shot Lance’s way back by his bike, the smile that told Lance this would be where they ended up. He trails a hand back up Lance’s chest, his neck, settles against his jaw and traces a thumb along his cheekbone. Lance leans into the touch, finds he doesn’t mind it, finds he maybe wants it to stay for longer than a backseat hookup should. Fernando indulges him, lets him catch his breath before he suggests moving.

Lance slides off of him, falls back onto the seat, tries to maneuver in the cramped space to slide his boxers and jeans back on. Fernando passes him his shirt, pulled from the depths of the floorboard, rumpled and dirty from their shoes catching on the fabric. There’s still cum on his stomach, drying cool, he glances at it, at Fernando.

He’s about to ask if Fernando has a napkin, an old receipt, anything, but all words quickly leave him when Fernando leans down and licks the mess away. His tongue, warm and wet against Lance’s stomach.

“Oh,” Lance chokes, feels Fernando laugh against him.

“Better?” he asks when he’s done, sits up and eyes Lance like he’s asking for a five star review on an uber ride.

Lance nods, mouth slightly agape, eyes wider than he means for them to be. Like a shocked cow, he can hear Pato teasing in his head, his big brown eyes and dumbfounded expression matching that of the creature. He swallows, tries to regain some composure.

“Do you- do you want me to-“ he motions at Fernando’s cock, the bulge still there.

Fernando shakes his head, “No, you will get me next time, yes?”

Lance chokes again, “Next time?”

“Unless no?”

Back propped against the door, handle digging into his back, legs spread out before him like he’s forgotten how to make them work, Lance shakes his head.

“No! No, I mean, yes. Yes. Yes to next time,” his hands fumble for his phone in his pocket, and then he’s holding it out to Fernando like a demand. Fuck Pato. Fuck his backseat. Fuck shitty blowjobs when they’re both too drunk to swallow properly. He’s beginning to see the appeal of this Aston Martin now.

Fernando laughs again, warm, endeared. It’s slow and drawn out and all the things that Lance isn’t. It’s easy in all the ways Lance isn’t.

Lance kisses him when Fernando drops him back off at his bike, leaned over the console, and tastes himself on Fernando’s tongue.

“Drive safe,” Fernando says.

Lance does the speed limit the whole way home.

#it's here!#it's queer!#it's got smut right off the bat!#and i'm maybe very scared to post it but it is what it is and now I got to bed #pls love south florida lance #i put so much into him :))))#strollonso #formula 1 #strollonso fic #lance stroll #fernando alonso #a lesson in braking

105 notes · View notes

nieded · 20 days

Note

what are Ezira and AJ like on a long road trip? Which car from their garage would they take? What snacks do they bring? Which one gets pulled over for going eighty in a thirty?

aj and ezira did go on a road trip across california when they were first starting out as a couple! though of course, it would have taken a lot of work to import a car to the states, and so they had a rental. if they could have taken one of their cars, they would have settled on the la ferrari, which could handle the switchbacks of the serria nevada.

maybe someday they will take the road trip that newt and ligur talked about from montpellier to cologne.

the actual reality is that they would take the gti, if they had a choice from their own garage. hypercars are notoriously unreliable. they are not meant for road trips. they aren't really meant to be driven, honestly. replacing brakes on a la ferrari (which is a common maintenance item!!!) costs 40k. the SO works next door to an italian repair shop that exclusively does ferraris, lambos, alfas, and fiats. they have had a lamborghini aventador sitting in the shop for months because it requires a new set of special tires, which they only release every couple of years. so it's just waiting for a random shipment that may or may not come in the next year. the lifespan on hypercars for maintenance items like oil changes and brakes are much much shorter than the average car.

also, where would their luggage go? they will definitely need boot space. crowley's a pain to fly with because he always has extra luggage for stuff: skincare, haircare, nail polish, nail polish remover, extra hats that he will not wear, extra shoes that he will also not wear, but he has them just in case they do the beach or a hike. (and still, he wears his boots.) chargers for his electronics and back up batteries just in case. and weed. road trips are excellent when transporting the goods.

but crowley has no opinion on snacks. thankfully, ezira has all the opinions on snacks. healthy choices such as snacking peppers and carrots and seaweed chips to just cake. lots of biscuits. he has a kettle in the back so they can make periodic petrol stops to boil hot water. and should they stop and pick up more ice for the cooler? just in case? and in the end, they only eat half of it because every four hours, he's on google maps researching local restaurants and cafes for nibbles.

and realistically, neither of them will get pulled over for speeding, but if one of them had to, it'd be crowley. ezira hates driving around civilians. it's much safer to be going 190 on a race track. but average joes are unpredictable. get off your phone! use the indicator (to the beemer, i'm looking at you). oops you missed your exit and are now crossing six lanes of interstate... everybody's out here being lance stroll. ezira absolutely hates it, and if you spend 15 minutes on r/idiotsincars, you will too. there's very little ezira sticks his nose up at, but civilians. *shudders*

but they wouldn't drive over the speed limit, not too much. that's for work. crowley will take it slow through the alps so ezira can take pictures of the clear blue lakes and snow-capped mountains. they'll take turns with the bluetooth, donna summer and pink floyd for crowley, abba and death cab for ezira, and they'll talk about the race season and the spots they want to revisit in america and italy and japan. they'll wonder what ceres has destroyed at marnie and lili's and what the nibling is up to. if she's crawling yet because that means she's almost walking and if she's running they can stick her in a go kart.

but the silence would be good too at night, windows down, one of crowley's feet out the window when it's ezira's turn to drive (less people, more deer, but he will take his chances). and they'll stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere between two cities and look up and up and up at the sky, stars twinkling above. and crowley will think about how he's crossed finish lines filled with fireworks, stood on the platform in monza once upon a time when the tifosi flooded the track, sat in the cockpits of wheeled rocketships, unbelievable feats of engineering from mankind, and think nothing could compare to the darkest night in the quiet with his beloved.

it's not about going fast. it's about drawing it out, sitting in the cabin with each other and no one else, as if they could sneak one more minute, one more hour together before they're pulled across the globe in opposite directions. they love it. they love the racing and the adrenaline and the fireworks (but not the jet lag and missed calls and wondering if the other is sleeping ok). they love that feeling of peeling their racing gloves off after hours of sweating and swearing, the long drink of water after a long drive. but. but they love each other more.

#ni answers #rainbow road

22 notes · View notes

ross-hollander · 2 months

Note

my meme-iest idea has been a charge with enough guns to duel mediums and get away with it, or utterly stomp lights

recon by fire/fighting for information mech

nice light lance you got there (smacks lips) sure would be a shame...

If someone Charged it.

(My personal "Charger Fix" (everybody has one, admit it) is using it for 'mech retrieval. Give it a big old magnet or a straight-up ship anchor to drag wounded 'mechs to the back lines.)

#3151posting #battletech #mechwarrior #rh.ask #battletech memes #battletech meme

36 notes · View notes

voltronisanobsession · 1 year

Text

Platonic! Voltron x Tiktok Obsessed Reader

Just another silly headcanon I thought of, i kinda get lost in the sauce when I’m scrolling through tiktok so i was inspired to do this😍🙏 enjoy my guys xoxo💋

Let’s imagine that tiktok is still a relevant thing during this time since this show is set in the future😻

Even before leaving Earth, Reader was very obsessed with tiktok. Phone opened on the app already, you probably had like a couple hours stacked on it. It was the only thing that kept you from dying of boredom

So when leaving the planet, you were DEVASTATED to see that your phone was quite literally useless in space

No charger, no wifi, and no more silly videos to entertain you

The most you had was your camera but the battery was a major problem

The team notices your more dazed-off look during meetings and on missions, often seeing you fiddle with your phone and just swiping through all your apps

That's until you go to Pidge to see if she can work some magic which SHE IS ABLE TO DO (so slay of her tbh)

She explains that she was able to route the phones connection to the electric waves from nearby planets but you stopped listening at that point

You’re both amazed when you reboot the app to see it completely different, yet similar to what it was before, only now it was filled with many different kinds aliens and their own videos

You are able to see the different environments and types of aliens that are scattered across the universe which was super cool to you!!!!

Cue you literally recording EVERYTHING the team does, let it be missions, meetings, or even fights which starts pissing Keith off a bit (bro feels like you’re not taking the whole voltron thing seriously💀💀)

It doesn’t bother you though since now you’re able to drag Lance and Hunk to do different kinds of trends that are popular on the new app

You manage to build up a small fan base because of the videos on your account, many people loving seeing the life of a paladin of Voltron😻‼️‼️

At one point you manage to get all of the paladins and Coran to do mini “get to know the team” videos (which I imagine are like the short videos on YouTube if you know which ones I mean)

Keith thinks the readers whole tiktok account is dumb and ‘useless’ in his words but is completely in shock when you get recognized by many people when visiting new planets because of your popularity

Shiro I think might find the whole thing a bit strange but he definitely entertains your ideas and involves himself with your account. You make him feel young when you force him to do one of the trends that is popular during that time

Allura doesn’t fully understand what the app is used for and see no real use for it until she realizes that your spreading the word of Voltron around. Then she does start forcing herself into your videos, which you don’t really mind (she loves being in your videos but is really awkward💔)

Lance is the one who is with you in most of your videos, often doing dance trends or mini vlogs with you. He loves how people also know him and enjoys the popularity he has with your followers😜 Has stolen your phone just to have Lance one on ones with your followers

Hunk is another one who usually is dragged into any shenanigans you and Lance are up to, whether it’s pranking one of the paladins or teaching your followers how to cook meals (he loves the compliments people give him when they try his recipes out)

Pidge RARELY is in any of your videos, mostly because she doesn’t like having a camera shoved up her face randomly. But she sometimes does do one of your dumb videos when she’s bored and has nothing to do, which leads to you featuring her more often

Keith is a fan favorite honestly, the people love his sarcastic and brooding attitude, which he claims he doesn’t have. He doesn’t mind being in your videos but he’s most of the time standing like a wall not knowing what to do with himself💀💀 (he enjoys being included with you guys though💔)

Coran LOVES being in your videos since he feels like the main character in them! He’s actually stolen your phone multiple times just so he could post some videos of himself, he loves the attention he gets by being Voltrons secondhand man hehe

Overall, the team grew to enjoy your funny and inclusive videos, it helps them break out of the serious routine they’ve gotten used to while in space :D

174 notes · View notes

grailfinders · 4 months

Text

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice: Don Quixote

today on Grailfinders we’re making Charle- wait, no, not him yet. today we’re making Don Quixote, the man de la mancha! he’s a Swords Bard to get a little too into tales of chivalry and make fantasies into reality, as well as a Watchers Paladin to bring reality crashing back down, but not before proving himself as a hero. maybe.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Ancestry & Background

we’ll get to Dulcinea/sancho panza/Rocinante later, but don quixote is definitely a Human. that gives him +1 Strength and Charisma, as well as proficiency in Acrobatics because you definitely fall off your horse plenty and don’t die, as well as the Charger feat. now when you dash, you can use your bonus action to attack or shove a creature, and as a bonus, if you move more than 10’ in a straight line beforehand, you either deal extra damage, or push them even further. it’s not a “good” feat, but it fits with the don’s battle style of charging in without much of a plan.

of course, quixote’s a noble so he gets proficiency in History and Persuasion as well. he’s a little too proficient in history for his own good, and people usually at least play along with whatever nonsense he’s gotten himself into.

Ability Scores

number one is Charisma. it’s how he casts spells, and presumably how his love for stories about knights is warping reality. second is Constitution, because it doesn’t measure how much health you have, but how many hits you can take and keep going. and god knows Quixote doesn’t know when to give up. third is Strength, while that probably should be lower, we need it for multiclassing and I’m not enough of a sadist to do that to you. your Dexterity is just okay. he’s a bit clumsy but its usually played for slapstick comedy. that means your Intelligence is middling- he’s well read, but only in fiction books- and we’re dumping Wisdom. if that’s a surprise to you I really don’t know what to say.

Class Levels

1. Bard 1: since quixote was a nerd and then he tried to be a night, we’ll be getting all his bard levels first, then go to paladin afterwards. that’s probably not the best way to do it in-game, but I’m a sucker for symbolism.

still, as a bard you start off with proficiency in Dexterity and Charisma saves, as well as three skills of your choice- Athletics to charge without getting wind(mill)ed, Animal Handling to ride a horse moderately well, and Deception to fool a country into thinking you’re a king. good luck with that btw, I haven’t gotten that far in traum yet.

you also gain Bardic Inspiration- as a bonus action you can give an ally an extra d6 to add to an attack, check, or save they make in the next minute.

also, you can cast Spells using your Charisma! cantrips like Blade Ward to not die til you have armor on, or Mage Hand for a lightweight Dulcinea; or even spells like Command to be a little kingly on occasion, Feather Fall for your flying girlfriend/horse to break your fall, Unseen Servant for a heavy duty Dulcinea, or Heroism to inspire yourself and others into a battle they probably shouldn’t be fighting.

it’s worth pointing out that bards don’t get proficiency with lances, but you can either call his weapon a spear or let him be not proficient with it. it’s pretty in-character tbh.

2. Bard 2: at level two you become a Jack of All Trades, giving you half proficiency in every ability you’re not explicitly proficient in. I think this is the first time I’d call this feature out of character, but we need it to get anything else out of the class. you can also perform a Song of Rest during short rests for an extra d6 of healing but that’s so negligible it’s barely worth mentioning.

the big bonus this level is your Magical Inspiration- now your inspiration dice can be added to healing or damaging spells to help them fantasy up the place. you can also cast Longstrider this level, quickening your step so you can move ten feet faster for an hour. it’s not huge, but it’s concentration-free!

3. Bard 3: at level three you graduate from the College of Swords, giving you proficiency with medium armor so you can finally get that breastplate out of your closet and go adventuring! you also get the Dueling fighting style, adding 2 points of damage to every attack you make with only one weapon in hand.

you also learn how to make Blade Flourishes by spending your inspiration dice. now your attack actions always increase your walking speed by 10 feet, and upon hitting something you can add an inspiration die to the damage and get one of three benefits. a Defensive Flourish adds the same roll to your AC for a round, a Slashing Flourish deals that damage to every creature you choose next to you, and a Mobile Flourish pushes the target, and then you can react to have Dulcinea drag you back into melee range.

you can also cast second level spells this level, like Enhance Ability, which gives you advantage on one kind of ability check. you can literally gaslight yourself into being stronger now! speaking of checks, your Expertise doubles your proficiency bonus in Persuasion and History checks.

4. Bard 4: at fourth level you can use your first Ability Score Improvement on something useful… or dump it into Charisma for stronger spells. spells like Minor Illusion to make little fantasies for free, or Kinetic Jaunt to ricochet around the battlefield even more! for up to a minute afterwards, your speed is increased by 10’, you don’t have to worry about attacks of opportunity, and you can move through creatures without slowing down! a knight always has to be on the front lines, after all. probably.

5. Bard 5: fifth level bards get some big ol’ boons, like a bigger Bardic Inspiration die, as well as becoming a Font of Inspiration, so you can recharge them on short rests instead of long ones. also you can start learning third level spells like Dispel Magic! it feels rough to end the fantasy before it begins, but it’s hard to get this spell later. it will instantly break any magic of third level or lower, and there’s a charisma check to break higher level spells. given how busted your ability checks can be, I doubt you’ll have a problem dealing with that.

6. Bard 6: at sixth level, bards can use a Countercharm to prevent their allies from being charmed or frightened for a round. it’s not great, you use your action on it, it doesn’t last long, and it only gives advantage on saves. still in-character though. even better, you get an Extra Attack each action, so now you can attack twice instead of once.

also you can cast Motivational Speech this level! it’s a more offensively-focused Heroism, which fits your skillset better.

7. Bard 7: seventh level bards get fourth level spells, like Confusion. let’s be honest, you were confusing people way before this, now it’s just official.

8. Bard 8: at eighth level you can max out your Charisma using your next ASI, and Dulcinea can also help free you from any predicaments you get caught in by giving you Freedom of Movement. while moving freely, difficult terrain and magic cannot slow you down or make you paralyzed or restrained, and nonmagical restraints can be escaped from with just five feet of movement. you even get to move at full speed underwater! I think the only water don quixote falls in in the books is a well, so this is probably canon.

9. Bard 9: ninth level bards get fifth level spells, and we can finally make your ascension-hopping make more sense thanks to the Seeming spell. for eight hours, you and anyone within 30’ of you will look different (if they don’t want to they can try a charisma save but good luck), allowing you to change their physical appearance as well as any clothes or equipment they’ve got. now you can turn beat up old relics into proper knighting around armor!

10. Bard 10: at tenth level, you get another round of Expertise to double down on your Deception game and your Acrobatics. you also learn a new cantrip, True Strike! it’s bad, but your strength score is still a 14 at level ten, so you’ll need all the help to hit you can get. also you can cast Legend Lore too, to learn (or make up) fantastical stories about whatever piece of garbage you find on your adventures.

the fun doesn’t stop there though! your Bardic Inspiration die grows to a d10, and you learn Magical Secrets, letting you pick up spells from other classes! now you can finally Summon Celestial to bring Dulcinea to life, or use Nystul’s Magic Aura to make your armor seem even more special than it already is. the latter spell lets you make nonmagical items magical or vice-versa, at least as far as magical detection is concerned. you can even make living things show up as other kinds of creatures, but that’s outside quixote’s scope.

11. Paladin 1: you’ve got all your delusions of grandeur, so now let’s get questing! at level one, you get proficiency with all martial weapons, so that means you can finally use a lance all proper-like. also you think you have a Divine Sense to root out otherworldly foes as an action 6 times a day. you’ll figure out what kind of enemy you’re facing, but not their exact identity. unless you make one up for them, of course.

also you can Lay on Hands, drawing from a pool of HP to give to yourself or your lady Dulcinea as an action. you can spend five points to curse diseases or poisonings, and they recharge on long rests.

12. Paladin 2: second level paladins get their own kind of Spellcasting, which also uses your charisma. unlike bards, paladins can swap their spells each day, so you can get a bit more loosey goosey here. that being said, I suggest checking out the Compelled Duel spell to force your dreaded nemeses to draw steel, Ceremony to give them a chance to repent like the noble knight you are, and Shield of Faith to actually make your shield a bit better for short periods of time.

you could also use those spell slots to make some Divine Smites, spending magic to deal extra damage with your lance. you’ve even got fifth level spell slots already, so you’re actually ahead of the curve compared to pure paladins. (right, almost forgot to mention, check your PHB to see what spell slots you have at any given point from here on out, multiclassing makes it weird.)

moving away from spells for a second, you get another Fighting Style, and the Protection style is perfect for a gallant knight protecting his lady love. when a creature next to you is being attacked, you can react to put your shield between them and their attacker, forcing disadvantage on the roll.

13. Paladin 3: at third level, you join the Watchers, and elite group of paladins dedicated to defeating evil from other worlds… which, if you’re being very generous, is what don quixote’s already been doing! (hey, his imagination isn’t the material plane.) when you join up, you can Channel Divinity once per short rest, letting you invoke the Watcher’s Will to give five creatures advantage on intelligence, wisdom, and charisma saves for a minute, or you can Abjure the Extraplanar to send aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, and fiends packing if they fail their wisdom save. alternatively, you can Harness Divine Power, spending your CD usage to regain a spell slot.

you also get free spells that are always prepared for you, Alarm and Detect Magic. quixote seems naturally jumpy, and you can’t end fantasy if you don’t know it’s there, probably.

you’re also in Divine Health, letting you ignore any diseases you get. sunstroke isn’t a disease though, you might want to get that checked out.

14. Paladin 4: at fourth level you get another ASI, and we could improve your strength so you can hit things better… orrr we can get Mage Slayer! now casting spells next to you provokes an attack of opportunity, and you get better at ending fantasy without even using a spell slot because everyone you hit has disadvantage on their concentration saves! you also get advantage on your saves against melee range spells.

15. Paladin 5: fifth level paladins get second level spells, a nice consolation prize since their extra attack doesn’t work with your bardic one. your freebies include Moonbeam, which will destroy any shapeshifters it hits, and See Invisibility. neither wolfman nor the invisible man could exist in 15th century Spain, I’m sad to say.

you can also Find Steed if you need Roccinante without all the others attached, or turn your lance into a Magic Weapon so you can actually hit people with it.

16. Paladin 6: at sixth level you get an Aura of Protection, giving everyone within 10’ of you a whopping +5 bonus to every save they make. some people thing spellcasting is a good choice of profession, so I guess it’s time you destroy their fantasy.

17. Paladin 7: seventh level watchers have an Aura of the Sentinel, giving you and everyone within ten feet of you a +6 to their initiative rolls. when you’re literally tilting at windmills, you’re always ready for a fight.

18. Paladin 8: okay fiiiine, I guess you can improve your Strength to something “not bad”, if you really want. now you might be able to actually hit the windmills when you fight them.

19. Paladin 9: ninth level paladins get third level spells, finally giving you Counterspell to stop fantasies in progress, and Nondetection to turn into a regular old man, no matter how many magical items you’ve picked up over this adventure.

we’ll also grab one last anti-fantasy spell with Remove Curse so now there’s practically no magic you can’t suppress, as well as Blinding Smite and Spirit Shroud for a more powerful girlfriend/squire/horse.

20. Paladin 10: with our final level, you exude an Aura of Courage, making you and friendly creatures nearby immune to being frightened. some say it’s because the image of a gallant knight riding to battle can stir the heart of the most craven of men, others say it’s because you suck all the gravitas out of a situation, but either way you won’t be fleeing any time soon.

Pros & Cons:

Pros:

bards are especially good at destroying magic, meaning this build can give even Medea and Sima Yi a run for their money in the anti-magic field. with maxed out charisma, an additional half-proficiency, and advantage from enhance ability, you have an effective +13 on your spellbreaking checks! that’s a 75% chance of breaking through ninth level magic, no matter what spell slots you use.

you’re also great at getting around. no, not like that, I mean you’re a speedy little bugger and you’re hard to pin down, letting you make sure you’re always in the least convenient spot for your enemies.

also you’ve got maxed out charisma and expertise in two different charisma skills, so you can dominate any conversation. whether that’s actually a good thing for your party or not is up to you.

Cons:

I know I said charger is a bad feat, but it is impressive how poorly it slots into this build. you’ve already got spells that can improve your mobility, so it probably doesn’t help too much there, and not only does it stop you from using your inspiration or divine smites by eating your bonus action, but it prevents you from using your flourishes by keeping you away from the attack action to boot! in a similar vein, mage killer is nice, but if you’re using a lance you’d want to keep people at a ten foot range, not a five foot one, which negates most of the feat.

don’t spend ten levels straight in bard. just don’t. having divine smites or an aura of protection would have been super helpful earlier than we got them, and also we can’t actually use a lance as a spellcasting focus until we’re proficient with them- which currently doesn’t happen until level 11. that’s a long time to wait for a basic part of your build to work right.

the don doesn’t really have any clear direction about what they’re supposed to be doing at any point in time. you could go on defense with powerful anti-magic, or offense with divine smites, but both eat into the same resource and require your full attention to work well. and you might have high charisma, but you have terrible insight, so you’re likely to fall for the first liar you come across- making you the party’s face would be a recipe for disaster. thankfully your deception’s high enough that you can pretend those flaws don’t exist, and everyone will believe you.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Don Quixote #Paladin #bard

28 notes · View notes

coimbrabertone · 5 months

Text

I Guess We Gotta Talk About Andretti...

So, I've been rather negative when it comes to modern F1 on this blog, and unfortunately, we gotta go there again this week.

So, this week, at Indycar's Long Beach Grand Prix - which turned into a pretty good race at the end - Mario Andretti was interviewed when it comes to his son, Michael's, bid to bring Andretti to Formula One as an eleventh team.

Mario, the 1978 Formula One World Champion, said that he's offended and finds it ridiculous that F1 has rejected the application, that Andretti has worked hard to create a deal with GM, has promised to support drivers in F2 and F3, and that value is added to Formula One by having an eleventh team. Basically, Andretti has met every hurdle that FOM has put ahead of them, and what have the FOM and the teams done in turn?

The teams are trying to get a ten-team limit put into the new Concorde Agreement.

Do I think that Andretti would instantly fix all my problems with modern F1? No.

Do I think F1 would be more interesting with another team? Yes.

Why? Because first of all, so many drivers have been stuck on the outside because there's too few seats in F1. Felipe Drugovich is doing fuck all this season because he couldn't get an F1 drive as a runaway F2 champion. Theo Pourchaire, the next F2 champion, is about to do his second Indycar race this weekend with Arrow McLaren. Mick Schumacher, Callum Ilott, and Robert Shwartzman are all in sports cars after super promising F3 and F2 careers. Marcus Armstrong is in Indycar, Louis Deletraz in IMSA, etc, etc.

Even Oscar Piastri, who has one of the most successful junior careers of recent memory, had to take a year off and ended up debuting with McLaren instead of Alpine.

All of these guys who could have F1 seats are instead doing amazing things in other series. Meanwhile, Lance Stroll has an Aston seat because his dad owns the team, Yuki Tsunoda has an Alpha Tauri seat because Honda wants a Japanese driver, and Daniel Ricciardo is his teammate for reasons that even Red Bull seems puzzled about at this point.

Adding two seats in F1 could improve that situation.

At least one of those seats would likely go to an American, and maybe Logan Sargeant has soured some people's tastes towards that, but hey, if you're going to have three races in the US, you're gonna need American talent to help support that interest.

Haas sure as hell isn't doing a good job of being an American team. Hell, Haas isn't doing a good job of much of anything. They have no ambition, they have two safe, boring, older drivers who will score a few points every once in awhile and let the team collect its prize money check at the end of the season. There's nothing exciting about that, Haas isn't going to have some young charger to breathe life into the back of the grid, Haas isn't going to master the 2026 regulations and give some amazing Brawn storyline, they don't even make their own cars - they have Dallara do it.

Andretti is going to have more ambition than that, I can guarantee that if nothing else. Andretti has three full time cars in Indycar, a bunch of cars in Indy Lights, two cars in IMSA in association with Wayne Taylor Racing, and is potentially laying the groundwork for a move into NASCAR as well.

Marco Andretti is in Trucks while Gainbridge, a major investor in Andretti, has been popping up on the Spire cars, along with rumors that Gainbridge and Andretti wanting to buy into the team.

All of this along with a share in an Australian Supercars team, a Formula E team, and Extreme E. They're a global team that isn't afraid to spend money. They're trying to win championships in series across the world.

F1 doesn't think all of that is good enough.

Why? Because that would mean the teams have to split money eleven ways instead of ten. That's it. That's the entire reason.

Paddock space? Space for twenty-six cars is written into the rules.

Value added? Look at all that stuff above, Andretti isn't coming to F1 to fuck around, and even if it was, half the grid is doing the same thing.

It's all about the money.

As much as I fully believe Andretti is overqualified for F1, I almost want them to say fuck it and abandon F1, put the money into the rest of your series. Marcus Ericsson, Kyle Kirkwood, and Colton Herta are competitive each and every week in an Indycar series where being a few tenths off could put you at the back of the field. The #10 and #40 WTR Andretti cars in IMSA are major championship threats. Plus, if Andretti can get that Spire deal and get into NASCAR, that's a sport that's experiencing its own resurgence in popularity.

I know NASCAR is very much focused in the US but having 4.3 million viewers for Talladega this last weekend is four times the ratings that F1 pulls, and everyone's talking about how big F1 is becoming in the US. F1 is getting all these American sponsors and American races, but whenever it comes to letting more Americans into the sport, there's always this hostility.

Motorsports is more than just F1, and the more F1 turns up its nose at the rest of motorsports, the more it alienates fans like me.

Which is a damn shame, because F1 was my first love in motorsports.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #motorsports #racing #indycar #imsa #formula #formula e #formula 2 #formula 3 #Mario Andretti #Michael Andretti #Andretti

26 notes · View notes

aegor-bamfsteel · 2 years

Text

So many characters in ASOIAF believe in the importance of vengeance even after the people who harmed their families are already dead, how it doesn’t matter which “Usurper’s Dog” killed the Targaryen children, or how “Though mayhaps [the murder of a nine year old] was a blessing. Had he lived, he would have grown up to be a Frey” is considered a funny/awesome line even by some of the audience. Characters like Ellaria Sand who don’t want to see their loved ones die in pursuit of vengeance and want to see the revenge cycle end are few.

Then you have Sansa Stark, who on several occasions has shown she does care which of the house members have harmed her family, and expresses some sympathy for the others:

Together, Sansa and the serving man got the wounded knight back on his feet. "Take him to Maester Frenken." Lancel was one of them, yet somehow she still could not bring herself to wish him dead. I am soft and weak and stupid, just as Joffrey says. I should be killing him, not helping him. —ACOK Sansa VII I hope he falls and shames himself, she thought bitterly. I hope Ser Balon kills him. When Joffrey proclaimed her father's death, it had been Janos Slynt who seized Lord Eddard's severed head by the hair and raised it on high for king and crowd to behold, while Sansa wept and screamed...Morros dropped his lance, fought for balance, and lost. One foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and the runaway charger dragged the youth to the end of the lists, head bouncing against the ground. Joff hooted derision. Sansa was appalled, wondering if the gods had heard her vengeful prayer. But when they disentangled Morros Slynt from his horse, they found him bloodied but alive.—ACOK Sansa I Osney's brother Ser Osfryd was savagely punishing the frog-faced squire Morros Slynt. Blunted swords or no, Slynt would have a rich crop of bruises by the morrow. It made Sansa wince just to watch. They have scarcely finished burying the dead from the last battle, and already they are practicing for the next one. —ASOS Sansa I Podrick Payne had changed as well, and looked almost a proper squire for once, although a rather large red pimple in the fold beside his nose spoiled the effect of his splendid purple, white, and gold raiment. He is such a timid boy. Sansa had been wary of Tyrion's squire at first; he was a Payne, cousin to Ser Ilyn Payne who had taken her father's head off. However, she'd soon come to realize that Pod was as frightened of her as she was of his cousin. Whenever she spoke to him, he turned the most alarming shade of red. —ASOS Sansa I

Sansa Stark doesn’t believe in harming children based on the actions of their parents. She is going to be one to break the cycle of revenge and help build a brighter future.

#asoiaf #sansa stark

284 notes · View notes

keithkog · 4 months

Text

Kosmo chewed through one of our power cords and now me and Lance have to share a charger. This is torture. I think my communicator may just die, so if I go offline for a little bit, that’s why. May not though, Lance needs to just stop being a charger hog!

-Keith

#vld kosmo #keith kogane #kosmo voltron #vld keith #keith voltron #keith headcanons #voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #voltron headcanons #klance #vld lance #lance mcclain

23 notes · View notes

theferal-possum · 7 months

Text

hey so nobody knows this blog but i got out of control while telling my friend about a writing a prompt i thought of and so now im giving it to you fire emoji (below the clip)

au where lance had his schoolbag for some reason (he doesnt know why he grabbed it, he likes to think it was the universe letting him have things from home to remind him that yes, he will make it back) and as they reach the edge of the solar system, his bag starts to ring, his familiar ringtone playing throughout the lion.

he's not quite sure why he decided to go on a hunt to find a charger to get it's battery up, maybe fate playing with the strings a bit to get it to happen, he's not sure.

it's what the paladins have deemed as "night-time," around 9pm back on earth. he was nearly asleep but is now clambering for his bag, worn from the years he's spent using it in space. he rips the phone from it, staring in disbelief that he was able to get a signal from all the way out here.

the words are clear on his screen, though his eyes are blurring them, tears threatening to fall.

MAMÁ

his hands are shaky as he clicks the accept button. the heart threatening to beat out of his chest the only thing assuring him that it isnt a dream.

it's quiet for a moment, before his mother's quiet words ring through his ears.

"..mijo?"

she sounds as if she's aged 10 years in only 5, but her voice was still heavy with that slight spanish accent, worn from years of english, that used to scold him and tell lance how much she loves him. but it's everything he's missed. and he can't helps the way his voice breaks when he says,

"mamá. oh mamá we're coming home."

----

lance doesn't know why, after the call with his mother ends, he calls keith. sure they're friends now but he hasn't been sure if theyre that close yet.

but he does anyways.

it only rings for a second, the image of keith appearing on his screen. pajamas on, and kosmo laying their head in his lap, with his comm pad held lazily in one hand. the screen lit up with one of the crosswords allura had given them to help with their altean.

"hey man, what's up? you alright? you look like you've been crying."

he leans forward in the chair, much to kosmos dislike, his eyes squinting and brow furrowed in concern.

lance suddenly feels concious of how he looks, eyes red and puffy, but just wipes at his eyes, looking at the side of his controls rather than the screen.

"yeah, it's just uh. i got a call from my mom, from my old phone. and i just, i don't know."

keith sits up fully in his seat, although knocking kosmo's head off fully, and clicks his comm pad off and setting it onto the floor.

"dude, really?! i'm surprised you got signal all the way out here. but i'm glad for you! how was she doing?"

keith looks genuinely happy for him, not something lance often had the privilege to see.

"she's uhm."

he takes a moment to steel himself. taking a deep breath as he reminds himself that he won't have to talk about only memories of her the next day. it won't hurt to talk about her.

"she's doing good, she was uh. really happy to hear from me. says she called me every week just to see if i would maybe pick up."

and lance's heart can't help but break, as he thinks about his mamá, face creased with worry, sat with her phone in hand, hoping her son would pick up. hoping that he would come back. that he would come home.

"she uh, only starting calling once or twice per month after the first year, so i guess i got lucky. it was really nice to hear her voice again. i almost forgot."

(his face falls, as he thinks of the countless nights that he'd try. try to hard to remember what she sounded like. how she rolled her r's, how she sounded as she yelled at him to do his chores faster, how she said i love you. he could never get it just right.)

"it's funny honestly, i used to hope for the day that i wouldn't have to hear it as much. i'd mock her voice from behind my door after an argument. but now i can't even imagine that. i guess, you don't know how much you'd miss something until you lose it.

and i know it seems silly to miss her this much considering we were gone only 2 years. but for her it was five. and at some points i wasn't–"

his voice begins to crack, his hand gripping the edge of his seat so hard that his fingers were white. the tears in his eyes threatening to fall.

"–i wasn't sure if i'd ever see her again. if i'd be able to tell her that i was coming home."

lance gives a watery laugh, rubbing his hand on the back of his head as he realises that he just dumped that all on keith.

“sorry that was, kind of a ramble.”

he finally looks back up at the screen, tears pricking the back of his eyes as he tries not to cry again. keith is staring at seemingly nothing just behind the screen, face drawn up in an expression lance can't decipher. thoughtfulness? he's not quite sure. but he doesn't have time to figure it out before keith speaks again, his gaze falling down to the floor as he starts to fidget with the string on his sweatpants.

"i understand what you mean. and im not trying to make this about me but, after spending two years on a space whale, i learned theres a lot of things you don't realise you'll miss."

he looks up, his face almost determined as he looks at lance directly now.

"but hey, you'll get to see her tomorrow, you won't have to miss her for much longer."

lance nods, smiling as a warmth spreading through his chest. he feels a renewed hope for the next day. he was going to go home.

(little note but the idea that theres a big group that surrounds the lions after they land, which the paladins get lost in immediately

and so lance is desperately searching through the crowd trying to find his family, before seeing keith waving and pointing almost frantically, but a smile on his face.

and as the crowd moves his mamá comes into view, standing next to keith

she calls out to lance, and he immediately runs over, engulfing her in a hug that lasts, definitely more than 20 seconds, and once he pulls away she starts tearfully rambling about how much she missed him, how she always knew in her heart that he'd come back, etc. etc.

but after a moment wipes the tears from her eyes and cheerfully exclaims that she was struggling to find him before keith had helped her, saying how nice he is, mother stuff yk

and keith is looking away blushing slightly from the compliments, and lance just looks at him and thanks him with such a genuine tone that keith cant help but smile fondly at him)

#i went insane and wrote all 1.2k words of this in under 40 minutes #might continue it/flesh it out more in the future #i have a couple more ideas that would work really well with it #who knows!#keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #voltron

21 notes · View notes