#THIS WOULD BE ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS I GRAB IF I HAD TO EVACTUATE FOR FIRE

[minkdelovely]

I CAME HOME TO THE PRETTIEST SURPRISE TODAY!! 😭A big thank you to my darling @hazelfoureyes for making me this gif so I can show y’all our favorite old men in all their glory! 🥹💖

I can’t even lie, when I saw NOTHERPUPPET on the label of my package I fully gasped and tore into it IMMEDIATELY and did my very best not to cry (a task I barely succeeded in, but still).

@notherpuppet the boys came out soooo beautifully. Not that you ever miss — it felt blasphemous to type that — but you really fucking killed it with this. They are my pride and joy and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get anything done now or ever again because I can’t stop staring at them… but honestly what’s new?? 🥺💖

[jashasedai]

Tame AU- Escape (The Car Chase One)

Escape (The Car Chase One) Alternate Universe- Tame Racing Drivers

http://jashasedai.tumblr.com/post/151392469153/summary-au-tame-racing-drivers Part 23- ESC Fandom- Motocross, WRC In an AU where a secret species is used as Racing Drivers, the day of the Grand Tour Broadcast, the stables are emptied. When Ricky Carmichael and Ken Block are the last ones out, and FIA comes calling, what results is chaos. Tags: Motocross, WRC, Ricky Carmichael, Ken Block, AU Tame Racing Drivers, Alternate Universe

Escape

Watch this video. https://youtu.be/iezPf15xYSY Then read.

The day of the Grand Tour broadcast, the stables experienced mass evacuations.

The term mass evacuation left the impression that there should be trash strewn around, papers everywhere, chairs tipped over, doors flapping in inconsequential breezes.  As Ricky Carmichael walked through the World Motorcycle Center's American Branch known as the Motocross Annex, that wasn't the case.  Doors were closed, the chairs were all neatly out up, the rooms were cleaned and tidied.

An evactuation went a lot more smoothly when you had it scheduled in.

'The last truck just pulled away.  Ken and Cage have completed the last walkthrough of the offices.  I have checked for minds.  There is no one left behind but Ken and Cage and us.'  Ratchet told Ricky, speaking into his mind from the other side of the main stable.

Ricky sent his Racing Rider feelings of approval and a desire for him to join him by the car, and to convey the same to the others.

He locked the door on his side of the stable.  The company they'd hired to keep an eye on the building and maintain the grounds would be in first thing tomorrow.  Ricky walked across the lawn to the garage.  Ken and Cage were double checking the bags in the back of the Golf.  Ricky went to the driver's side.

Two big black vans pulled in the open gate and roared down the driveway.

"The Grand Tour Crew knows we're evacuating to the camp, right?  They wouldn't send anyone to pick us up?"  Ken asked, nervousness rising in his voice.

"No, I don't think so, no," Ricky said thickly, pulling the driver door open.

His hand was wrenched off the handle.  He was bustled into the back seat.

Cage threw himself into the driver's seat.  He was gesturing at Ken to hurry.

"Oh god, not this."  Ken jumped into the passenger seat.

[Ratchet!]  Ricky tapped firmly on Cage's shoulder.  [Ratchet!]  He was still making his way over from the far stable door.  He'd stepped behind the trees at the corner of the workshop when the vans had pulled in.  Ricky could feel him there, like a heads up display in his minds' eye.

[I know, stallion, we'll get him.]

Cage closed his eyes and beside him, Ken went slack as Cage used his mind as a second data processor.  The men in the vans were watching them through the windshield.  Cage started the car.

There was a moment of tension that telescoped for Ricky like one of those movie special effects.

He felt the car shimmy for the instant between when Cage's foot slammed the accelerator and when it leaped forward.  They barely cleared the garage door before he had slammed the wheel to the right, executing a 90 degree turn in just barely more than the length of the car.  

The vans screamed as they accelerated towards the small car.

The Golf tore across the lawn, catching air off the sudden rise in the landscaping around the workshop.  They thudded down.  Ricky caught the briefest glimpse of Ratchet's red hair and alarmed eyes peeking out from behind the trees.  Cage whipped the wheel to the left and the back end of the Volkswagon stepped out, and Ratchet spun out of sight.  Cage shifted gears and Ricky slammed forward as they reversed into a neat line with the trees.  

The vans were almost on them now.

[Hurry, hurry, hurry, HURRY!]  Cage was gesturing, barely lifting his fingers off the wheel.  Ratchet wrenched the door open and dived in.  He barely closed the door in time to keep it from being ripped off as Cage accelerated backwards between two trees.

The vans split up, one racing across the lawn between the car and the main stable, and one down the access drive that ran towards the tracks.

Cage was still reversing them across the lawn, also headed towards the tracks.  There was an opening in the shrubbery where the access road went through.  Ricky watched the ground cover spray up around them as the tires tore up the turf, unable to get proper traction.  He was getting very concerned.

The van on the access road could block their way.  It was a matter of who reached it first.

The Golf was going just slightly faster.  They zipped through the gap just as the van arrived and skidded sideways.  Cage laughed.

The other van burst through the shrubs, mowing down a wide swath of manzanita bushes.

Cage executed a flawless J turn.  

Ratchet whooped.

They were in the track field, now.  It was divided into sections with the access road crossing through the whole thing.  It would be no good if one of the Riders wrecked and the medics couldn't get to them.  But when you were fleeing a vehicle that had to stick exclusively to the access roads, it was a disadvantage.

Cage certainly wasn't limited by the need for roads.  He went up and over the sides of the whoops and down across.  He was headed straight for the fence.

Ricky's hand crawled up the window without his asking it to and grabbed the Oh SHIT handle.  His breath caught.  At the last moment, Cage turned the car slightly, drove at a sharp angle up the side of one of the jumps.    No one had thus far done this, because the track ran away from the fence at this point, and all the Riders taking this jump had been intent on following the track.  He felt the floaty, sickening feeling of the vehicle leaving the ground and hanging in free air.

Ratchet screamed happily.

Ricky just inhaled deeply and loudly.

They passed over the fence and Ratchet whipped his head to track it as it went by the window.

The car landed VERY roughly on a downward sweep of ground on the other side.

There was going to be damage.  Ricky was very, very sure.  This car's suspension was not designed for jumping.

They slowed.  Wonderful, Cage had destroyed something and now they were grinding to a halt.

It turned out he was just slowing down to navigate the rougher terrain outside the practice field.

Ratchet was cackling and let out another whoop.

They tore across the field, past the airport, towards town and the highway.

Ken snorted back into consciousness as Cage released his control over his mind.

He reached over and smacked Cage with the back of his hand.  "If you're going to DO that, could you at least brace me so I'm not flopping around?  I'm too old to do that do my neck anymore."  He rubbed at the back of his neck.  "I'm going to have a crick in it for days."

Ricky looked out the back window.  No sign of pursuit.  "I can't believe this!"  He snarled.  "What a way to DESTROY the landcaping.  Chad is going to have my nuts when he finds out he's going to have to replace all that manzanita.  SHIT."

Ratchet was laughing again.

Cage hung his fist over his shoulder.

Ratchet fist bumped him.

In the second van, overturned at the edge of the jump beside the fence, the FIA agent strapped into the passenger seat snarled.  "WHAT were you thinking?!  Didn't you see who that was?  Why did you chase him?!"

"It was some motorcycle rider.  If they were any good in cars, they'd be driving."  The man dangling from the drivers side seatbelt grumped back.

"You idiot, that Driver was Ken Block's!  Doesn't the word Gymkhana mean ANYTHING to you??"