#water bottle milton

[jayeshadigital]

Top 5 Water Bottle Price

There are different bottles available in market. We have 5 different water bottles with us which have good quality and are unbreakable. We have plastic as well as steel bottles.

top 5 water bottle price

[thecryptidenthusiast]

I know there isn’t much time left but if you can: Please make sure you have enough water for the days after the storm. If you’re not able to evacuate, please try and fill as many receptacles with clean/boiled water as you can and store them. It’s recommended to have at minimum 2 liters per day for an adult, and with pets you’ll need more. Fill pots and pans and any tupperware with as much as you can.

Make sure all your devices are charged as much as you can in case (when) power goes out.

If you think you might find yourselves and your pets trapped inside, have an escape route (windows, fire exits, etc). If you have access to an attic, make sure you have a fire axe! A lot of victims of Katrina were trapped in attics because of the storm surge and never made it out.

Thank you 💙 thankfully we did our prepping ahead of time, so we’ve got plenty of food and water. Everything’s gonna be charged and we’ve got power banks as back ups until we can get to family that have generators.

[focusstudio223]

#Water bottle

MILTON Aqua 1000 Stainless Steel Water Bottle, 950 ml, Silver | Leak Proof | Office Bottle | Gym Bottle | Home | Kitchen | Hiking | Treking Bottle | Travel Bottle

[eclectictimetravelpuppy]

The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Best Steel Water Bottle Brands for a Sustainable Lifestyle

1. Introduction: Understanding the Importance of Steel Water Bottles in a Sustainable Lifestyle Choosing a steel water bottle for a sustainable lifestyle is a decision that many individuals are making in order to reduce their plastic waste and carbon footprint. With so many steel water bottle brands available on the market, it can be overwhelming to determine which one is the best option for…

[imaginaryf1shots]

Heatstroke | Max Verstappen

WC: 2.6K

Max x Platonic!Driver!reader, Grid x Driver!reader

Summery: When you made the switch to Formula 1, no one told you how bad the Qatar GP can be

Warning: Heatstoke??

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

y/n y/f/n, is a name that’s been making headlines for months now. When the rumours first started everyone thought they were just, that, rumours. But in F1 rumours don’t just come out of thin air, especially ones like this. Red Bull is changing their line up and they’re bringing in a female? A woman whose already in her mid-20s. A NASCAR driver, a runner up for the drivers’ championship three times. Not many switch from other series to Formula, the other way around. Yes. So, it’s a rumour everyone presumed.

But why are there photos of you in Milton Keynes? Why is Max suddenly following you on Instagram? Why is your NASCAR team not posting you on their social media anymore? How come it’s already the winter break and no confirmation on who will be take the empty seat in the Red Bull team?

You ignored your social media, since someone leaked your move from NASCAR to F1. You stopped caring a long time ago, stopped looking a long time ago. A long life in motorsports taught you not to care. The life of a female in motorsports is not easy even now in the 21st century. Female fans have it hard, female presenters have it hard, female mechanics have it hard, and certainly female drivers have it hard. But it only made you stronger and your skin thicker.

When Red Bull finally announced that you’d be the one driving for them in the new season, they were met with both positive and negative response. You’re an enigma coming into the sport. No one’s seen you in a Formula 1 car before, or a car in the feeder series. But you did start in karting and your records are still unbroken.

While everyone was enjoying their winter break, you spent it training in the gym, on the sim, and in previous F1 cars. No time to spare, to get you ready for the new season. A season Red Bull has high hopes for.

You were able to meet Max a few times since you joined the team, but he was mostly off enjoying his break. Only by the time the preparations for the new season that he’s actually got to know you. Surprisingly to many, you and Max got on well with each other. Max instantly took a liking to you, you may be not that much younger than him, but he saw you as a younger sister. Max also did his homework while he was on vacation and watched many of your races in NASCAR and he was impressed, he couldn’t wait for you to race in F1. Like his team, he thinks your experience will bring in a fresh eye to the sport and to the team.

The pre-season practice was the first time you met the rest of the grid. Everyone has been pleasant and nice; Lewis Hamilton had a long talk with you about your experience in motorsports as a female and he shared some of his challenges being the only black man in the history of the sport. It was such a long and deep talk; the 7 times world champion gave you his number and promised to chat more later.

Max pulled you to the talking circle he was having, he was talking to Lando, Carlos and Charles. You loved how much he tried to include you in on everything, make you feel welcome.

It was the Qatar Grand Prix, a race almost everyone hated, just for the fact that it’s one of, if not the, hottest races on the calendar. You had no idea how hot it could get, but the team tried to pred you as much as they could. FP1-3 were hard when you were doing long runs, it got hot in the cockpit. You’re thankful they decided to not have a sprint this year. You had no idea how you’ll manage in the actual race. Water was your friend since FP1.

“How do you handle all that heat?” You asked Max, as you laid on a sofa on the side of the debriefing room, he was on a chair as if he wasn’t just in the car melting.

“Lots of water and eat whatever I’m given.” Max said sipping on his cold-water bottle. “Didn’t you train for the heat after the last race?”

“I did, but it’s still nothing like the real thing.” You mumbled, Max patted your knee in sympathy.

“Hey, you did good though, starting P2 tomorrow.” Max tried to cheer you up, you gave a weak smile.

“Okay, everyone here?” You sat up from the sofa and moved to your chair for the meeting.

The race was too long in your opinion, definitely one of the hardest races you had to do in your career. How can it be so hot at night, the humidity was killing you.

“No one said it’ll be this hard before I joined.” You complain through your radio, something you don’t usually do, since the media likes to call you whiney and used as an excuse as to why women shouldn’t be in Formula 1.

“Thought you might change your mind.” Your engineer teased and you sighed.

“I might’ve.” You joked back, knowing you wouldn’t, sweat was dripping everywhere. “How many laps left?”

“16, hang in there and drink water.”

“You mean tea, it’s so hot, still don’t get why you couldn’t throw cold water on me.” You had a gap between you and George Russel in P4 behind you and you were closing in on Lando in front of you. You were getting closer lap after lap. He undercut you earlier in the race and now you’re 2 seconds behind him.

“Maybe next time… gap to Norris 1.4.”

The next 5 laps were hard, you managed to overtake Lando, but it took so much out of you.

“Okay, just keep your head down.” Your race engineer said, and it took a few seconds for you to register what he was saying and a few more to answer him.

“Okay.” Your voice was breathy and weaker than earlier.

“Almost there.” He encouraged you; you hummed and did your best to keep the lead you have on Lando now, you’re in clean air, no car in sight in front of you.

“How many laps?” You asked but stopped talking as you felt like you’d throw up if you talked more.

“2 more, drink water even if it’s hot.”

You didn’t respond, there was no more water, it was too hot, but you drank and sweated everything already. The last lap felt so long, your car slowed down just slightly, but not enough for Lando to catch up with you.

“Well done y/n, that’s P2!” Your engineer cheered and you smiled weakly proud of yourself for finishing the race.

“Yay.” That was the weakest yay you’ve ever said. The in lap seemed like it took so long. Max and Lando were already parked. You closed your eyes and rested your head back, you had zero energy, moving seemed like torture. You slowly opened your eyes and took out your wheel placing it on the car.

Max after celebrating with the team, turned to look at you, only to see you still in the car. He frowned and moved back to where your car is parked next to his. He could see you moving a little which gave him little comfort.

“Hey, you, okay?” Max had removed his helmet already, his face was flushed red.

“Too tired.” You mumbled and Max strained his ears to hear what you said.

“I’ll help you out.” Max said he reached into your car and unbuckled your seatbelts. ���Can you stand?”

You gave a weak nod and put your hands on the sides of the cockpit and tried to pull yourself up, but your legs were shaky, Max placed his hand on your waist to try and steady you.

“Get her a cold water.” Max told one of the Red Bull mechanics that came for the car, you leaned on the halo pretty heavily, Max put his other hand on your waist as well when you lifted your leg to hop over. You placed on of your hands on Max’s shoulder and moved your legs over the halo, before you just sat down on the car, placing your feet on the ground, this took more time than it needed to and much harder than it should’ve. “Raise your head.”

Max leaned down and unbuckled your helmet before he slowly removed it. Your balaclava was next, putting them beside you he could finally see your flushed face, loose hair sticking to your skin. The mechanic opens the bottle for you, and you take it gratefully from him, the cold water is a shock to your skin, but it offered a much-needed reprieve from the heat. You sipped slowly, feeling better now that you drank cold water.  Max was watching you with hawk eyes.

“Come on we need to get weighed.” Max told you after you drank most of the water bottle. You nodded, and turned to put the wheel back in but max took it from you and hocks it back up. Your focus isn’t really that good at the moment, so you don’t notice Max walking behind you, ready to catch you if you stumble. You’re too tired to run to your team, but while Lando gets interviewed you walk up to them, you get patted on the back softly. It’s obvious how much this race had taken out of you. You’re still flushed, and sluggish.

“y/n, welcome to Qatar.” Jensen said once you stood in front of him, you offered him the best smile you could, but it wasn’t that big. “First season in Formula 1, you’re second in Qatar how would you rank this week amongst the ones you’ve done so far?”

“Uh, hardest, definitely the hardest.” You answer, all the lights shinning and the screens around aren’t helping with the heat.

“But you did amazing over taking Lando and getting second place, did you expect this coming into the weekend?” Jensen asked feeling sympathetic towards you.

“Well, um, I expected to do well before the race, during the race I wasn’t so sure, but I knew I just had to push through it for the team.” You said and the team cheered you on, you felt like they were farther than they were, your hearing coming and going. Jensen asked you his last question before you were free to go. You felt like your body was on auto piolet. Moving away from the cameras and in the direction of the cool down room. Once you were next to a wall you leaned on it, your trainer was by your side in a second.

“You need to sit down for a moment.” He told you, and in the middle of the hallway he helped you down, you just did as you were told. He unzipped your suit and pulled it down to your waist. Somone handed him a water bottle, he put some on his hand and patted your cheeks to cool you down. “We need an ice vest.” Someone rushed away, you just closed your eyes head on the wall. “Here, drink more.”

You sat there for a minute, before Max rushed over, he just finished his interview.

“Are you okay? Is she okay?” Max asked you before turning to your trainer, he crouched down to your height to have a closer look. “She should head to the medics.”

“No, no, it’s alright, I just needed a moment.” You said opening your eyes to look at your teammate.

“y/n, don’t p-“

“I’m fine, Max, I swear.” You say and put your hands on the floor and push yourself up, you lean on the wall for a moment, before you give Max a pleading look, he sighs and gestures for you to move in front of him. You walk into the cooldown room, and Lando is sitting alone.

“What? Did you have the debrief or something?” Lando asked jokingly, he had a cold water bottle pressed to his face.

“Yeah, talked about how to take you out of the race next time.” You joked and sat on the floor, not even trying to sit in your chair.

You didn’t slip your suit back on for the podiums, leaving the top part hanging by your waist. Your movements were still slow, but you managed to smile and celebrate a little with the other two drivers. You were the first person off the stage and instantly a cooling vest was slipped over your head, you were still hot. Max ran down the stairs after you.

He saw you stumble a little, you had to go to the medical centre. Max knew you well enough to know that if he asked you, you’d brush it off. But he got what he wanted one way or another. So, the reigning world champion came up behind you and just scooped you up. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck instantly.

“Max! what are you doing?”

“Taking you to the medical centre, and no you’re not fine.” You looked at your trainer over his shoulder, but one look at him and you saw that he agreed with Max.

Let’s say Max was right, you had a heatstroke and were on the verge of passing out. You missed the debrief much to your displeasure. The doctor gave you a list of things to do and not to do with your trainer by your side. The moment you were in your hotel room, you rushed to the bathroom to shower. The cold water feeling amazing on your skin, the AC was on. You just wore a tank top and a pair of boxer shorts to bed. And sleep you did. You really needed that sleep.

You woke up the next morning to knocking on your door, you groggily got up groaning as you did. Opening the door, you saw Max and Kelly. They’re both in casual clothes, smiling at you.

“Hey, what’s up? It’s too early.” You greeted them opening the door more for them to enter.

“It’s past 12.” Max informed you.

“Oh.”

“How are you feeling?” Kelly asked you and placed her hand on your skin to see if you’re still radiating heat or not. Max had informed her of your state last night, and from the glimpses she managed to see of you she knew you were feeling the heat.

“Better.” You smiled at her kindness, since you and Max have gotten close, you and Kelly also have formed a friendship.

“We ordered room service to your room.” Kelly told you; you thanked the couple. You threw on an oversized shirt on top of your clothes before you joined them, they had the small sofa for themselves, so you took the comfy armchair. “You did amazing yesterday, y/n.”

“Thank you, wish I felt as good as I did.” You complained and sighed.

You three talked about everything and nothing in particular. When the food arrived, you knew that Max has spoken to your trainer, because it was all the foods that the doctor suggested for you to eat. You drank to glasses of juice and a bottle of water as well. Keeping hydrated was on the top of the list.

“Who are you going back with to the UK?” Max asked, he would’ve loved if you’d moved to Monaco, but after joining the team you moved closer to the factory in the UK.

“Oscar and Fernando has to go to the factory so we’re taking his jet.” You informed him and he looked satisfied with your answer.

“Just take care of yourself.”

“Sure, dad, I will.”

“Hey!”

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

[ashtok1]

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[autumngracy]

"Trump is better for the economy, though!"

Aside from almost every major economist agreeing that Trump's economic plans would actually make things far worse than they are now, this man can't even manage his campaign's, his businesses', OR his personal finances.

Case in point, here a list from Public Opinion of his failed business endeavors:

"Trump's companies have filed for bankruptcy at least six times. This is no exaggeration. Digital World noted this in its SEC filings. This excludes additional business failures that might not have declared bankruptcy, but closed owing vendors, employees and others."

"For the record, here are some of Trump's noteworthy business failures."

Trump Airlines — Trump borrowed $245 million to purchase Eastern Air Shuttle. He branded it Trump Airlines. He added gold bathroom fixtures. Two years later Trump could not cover the interest payment on his loan and defaulted.

Trump Beverages — Although Trump touted his water as "one of the purest natural spring waters bottled in the world," it was simply bottled by a third party. Other beverages, including Trump Fire and Trump Power, seem not to have made it to market. And Trump's American Pale Ale died with a trademark withdrawal.

Trump Game — Milton Bradley tried to sell it. As did Hasbro. After investment, the game died and went out of circulation.

Trump Casinos — Trump filed for bankruptcy three times on his casinos, namely the Trump Taj Mahal, the Trump Marina and the Trump Plaza in New Jersey and the Trump Casino in Indiana. Trump avoided debt obligations of $3 billion the first time. Then $1.8 billion the second time. And then after reorganizing, shuffling money and assets, and waiting four years, Trump again declared bankruptcy after missing ongoing interest payments on multi-million dollar bonds. He was finally forced to step down as chairman.

Trump Magazine — Trump Style and Trump World were renamed Trump Magazine to reap advertising dollars from his name recognition. However, Trump Magazine also went out of business.

Trump Mortgage — Trump told CNBC in 2006 that "I think it's a great time to start a mortgage company. … The real-estate market is going to be very strong for a long time to come." Then the real estate market collapsed. Trump had hired E.J. Ridings as CEO of Trump Mortgage and boasted that Ridings had been a "top executive of one of Wall Street's most prestigious investment banks." Turned out Ridings had only six months of experience as a stockbroker. Trump Mortgage closed and never paid a $298,274 judgment it owed a former employee, nor the $3,555 it owed in unpaid taxes.

Trump Steaks — Trump closed Trump Steaks due to a lack of sales while owing Buckhead Beef $715,000.

Trump's Travel Site — GoTrump.com was in business for one year. Failed.

Trumpnet — A telephone communication company that abandoned its trademark.

Trump Tower Tampa — Trump sold his name to the developers and received $2 million. Then the project went belly-up with only $3,500 left in the company. Condo buyers sued Trump for allegedly misleading them. Trump settled and paid as little as $11,115 to buyers who had lost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Trump University or the Trump Entrepreneur Initiative — Trump staged wealth-building seminars costing up to $34,995 for mentorships that would offer students access to Trump's secrets of success. Instructors turned out to be motivational speakers sometimes with criminal records. Lawsuits and criminal investigations abound.

Trump Vodka — Business failed due to a lack of sales.

Trump Fragrances — Success by Trump, Empire by Trump, and Donald Trump: The Fragrances all failed due to being discontinued, perhaps as a result of few sales.

Trump Mattress — Serta stopped offering a Trump-branded mattress, again likely due to slacking sales.

Truth Social — This existing Trump business owes big money, and may well be breathing its last.

And then of course is his long history of stiffing contractors, restaurants, and even entire cities for their event venues he used for his rallies—as well as some of his own followers—

—such as the case where he promised a greiving hispanic American family that he would pay for the burial of their daughter, Vanessa Guillén, a servicewoman who had been brutally murdered by a fellow soldier at Fort Hood in 2020, but later told his chief of staff not to pay for it after learning it would cost $60,000, reportedly saying "It doesn’t cost 60,000 bucks to bury a fucking Mexican!"

[teawitch]

Pre-Milton Hurricane Post

I've been making hurricane prep so I figure I might as well make the obiligitory tumblr post.

"Are you evacuating?"

I'm in the center of the state, which is where we evacuate the coastal areas to. My home isn't likely to flood, though the roads around me might. The biggest dangers are flying debris or a tornado strike.

I'm going to lose power. That's not even a question at this point. And with the aftermath of Helene still underway, it may be days before everything is restored. So, I may be offline for a few days. Though if we keep cell service, I can do what we all do - use the car as a giant phone charger.

I raided my recycling bin and filled every usable bottle with drinking water. I have flashlights, batteries, and candles if needed. And enough cheese and bread to make sandwiches for a week if needed. Also chocolate chip cookies. They seemed very important when I was making my hurricane supply run.

I'll be filling the bathtub with water. That's a backup to flush the toilet with if needed. (Also where store any alligators that the wind flings at our doors.)

I've also downloaded some of my favorite comfort mystery shows to a couple of Kindles along with a ton of books. And I have enough yarn to keep knitting for, umm, a decade or so.

To everyone else in the path - Stay Safe!

Teawitch

[lost-in-fandoms]

I was on a walk and had to stop on a bench to write this before it could escape.

cw: alcohol mention (nobody is drunk)

When he was little, Daniel used to like watching summer storms approach.

It was easy at the farm, endless skies all around him, to watch the dark clouds roll in, eating at the blue. He used to sit on the porch, naked feet touching the dry earth, toes digging in the dirt, to watch the distant sheets of rain, grey curtains connecting the ground with the sky, usual emptiness suddenly filled. Sometimes he would open his mouth, wanting to taste the smell of petrichor and ozone, pushed onto his tongue by the raising wind. If his mom wasn't there to call him inside, he would wait until the drops were beating down in the garden, until his feet would get muddy, until his knees, exposed by the shorts he was wearing, were streaked with running water.

It was different in Italy, different again in Monaco, Milton Keynes, Los Angels. The sky was never the same. Even when the buildings weren't so close together the blue was forced into roughly cut shapes in between them, it was never the same.

The feeling though, the feeling was the same. The anticipation of change, the smell, the electricity; those remained.

Sitting on this couch, watching Max look at him, it was like watching a summer storm. He could almost pretend the bitterness of beer on his tongue was the earthy one of rain, that the electricity between them was heavy with ozone. He was holding his breath, anticipation cursing through him.

Max had put his own beer bottle down on the coffee table in front of them, condensation melting on the glass, coating his hand where he was reaching to grab Daniel's wrist. Drops in the distance.

"Daniel."

Thunder. A warning in the wrong order. Daniel had missed the lightning.

Or maybe the lightning had been this whole evening: watching Max gentle hand grasp the fork at dinner, his eyes shining and disappearing in a laugh, his stubble deepening the shadow on his jaw in the softly lit living room. His lips, curling around the rim of the bottle to take a sip. His lips, lisping around a word. His lips, now closer than before.

The rain was entering the garden. If Daniel stayed here, he was going to get wet.

He leaned forward, Max's hand cradling his cheek, lips brushing and then pressing together. Air crackling, rain pouring.

Daniel let it soak him.

[weirdmageddon]

milton rapidly intensified from a category 1 to a category 5 hurricane in under 24 hours. it will hopefully SLIGHTLY “weaken” in wind speed before fall due to wind shear, but i don’t like using the word weaken because it’s a major hurricane no matter what and it’s likely not enough to offset catastrophic damage.

tampa bay area has not been directly hit since 1921, the infrastructure may not be adequate. a category 5 tropical cyclone is without exaggeration the most powerful class of storm capable of being produced on planet earth

i’m in sarasota which is right in the crosshairs of hurricane milton. i think i will be safe physically because i am so so so so lucky to live in a building made of solid concrete + hurricane proof glass and i’m not in an evacuation/flood zone. i live on the first floor so if a tree falls on the building it will hit the roof which is the second floor. so i’ll probably bunker in the bathroom which is the safest room in my complex in the center of the building away from windows.

what i’m more worried about is being without power or water for a long time. it’s very hot and humid and without air conditioning florida is swamp-ass swamp-taint sweat hell.

we have a huge stack of water bottles that we copped in preparation for helene and thank god we didnt have to use it. flashlights and batteries, portable chargers, usb powered fan that i can use a car phone charger and a 9-volt battery attached by a little metal spring from a mechanical pen to activate (awesome hack i did back in 2017 with irma), a box of snacks, plenty of weed edibles (for me), wine (for my mom) and we will be feasting on peanut butter and bread.

[sergeantgoggles]

Say a prayer or six for me, chat.

Milton is coming for my house.

(No, we are not evacuating. I have two cats and a small senior dog and only one small carrier, and the nearest pet friendly shelter is 30 minutes away. We are sheltering in place. We are not in a flood zone, and we have sandbags to help with aerial flooding. Our complex does not allow us to board up windows, but we're taking precautions where we can. We have a full case of bottled water, two 5-gallon jugs, and a gallon filter. We have a gas grill so we are able to cook, and have plenty of canned foods that are fine cold.)

All that said, if you have any cloneship fics you wanna recommend, feel free to drop them in the replies so I have something to read when we lose power.

[agendabymooner]

if not for you ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc) // toto w.

SPIN OFF for COLOUR ME YOUR COLOUR and RUSH

"there'll be no spring if not for this love of mine"

summary: posts and tweets exchanged between lester and others during the baku race weekend as she babysat toto and tilly wolff's children. OR chaos ensues in the paddock and the hospitalities as the wolff kids and an asshole ex-lover (is he really?) made their presence known to almost anyone

content warning: character-centric, mentions of questionable man, appearance of characters not yet shown in the series colour me your colour, toto wolff being canonically fashionable, use of explicit language, faceclaims used for the kids, danny is full on babygirl in the instagram comment section. f1 drivers being messy.

note: sorry for the awol guys, i was walking my fish. tomorrow is the start of the canadian gp 2023 and i am sad that i am not there. maybe next year when i have the money? or maybe when i work for pr. who knows. since i'm not there, i'm just celebrating and writing this.

ALSO!! should i do a blurb or something relating to lester babysitting the paddock kids- like the wolff kids? i've started on it but...

enjoy xx

masterlist

[first image dialogue: i don't normally look at the time because i dress faster than this. i even dress ren and tia for less than seven minutes and they're always dressed nicely for their music classes]

[second image: if they're dressed ten minutes after, that's not my doing; toto dresses them and he struggles a lot. he mostly gets them ready if he's taking them to work or if i'm off to a meeting in milton keynes]

[third image: we've made a lot of trips to ralph lauren and tommy hilfiger because he thinks that he can just mix and match the clothes that we got there for the bunch. said it's a "capsule wardrobe." that's what happens when you're married to a fashion expert, i suppose.]

[fourth image: you'll be able to know if he dresses them once you see the jumper/dress shorts/trousers combo or the dress/jumper combo. you'll know he did the preparing if tia's hair is put in place with a hair clip. she loves it when her papa puts in barrettes in her thin hair.]

tagged tillywolff, mercedesamgf1, redbullracing

view 32142 more comments

carlossainzjr ay, i didn't know they were running a barber shop! i need a haircut

tillywolff i don't recall buying that toy set for them 🧐

charles_leclerc maman said to get it for them so it can remind them of their mamé pascale

tillywolff thank you so much for taking care of ren and tia! i've been told they enjoyed being with their zia lori. maybe you can take care for adelmo next time? liked by loressandro

loressandro i will definitely set up a playroom for the next time!

landonorris thank you so much tillywolff for the best hairstylist ever 😇 i got the best trim in the grid right now and no one can outdo it

mercedesamgf1 boss is asking who's responsible for allowing one of the wolff puppies drink red bull? just asking for research purposes 😊

charles_leclerc maxverstappen1

lewishamilton maxverstappen1

user1 LMFAOOOO not lewis and charles snitching on their in-law 😭

charles_leclerc user1 i need to be in toto's good graces again.

maxverstappen1 it's a red bull water bottle 💀 stop trying to push me back at the starting level mf charles_leclerc

user2 those kids are so toto coded 🥰

user3 if you can survive lando, you can survive the wolff kids 🙌 liked by loressandro

danielricciardo if you can survive the wolff kids, you can survive our kids 😘 liked by loressandro

thomasraggi_ yeah but try surviving her kids 💀

ykaaar you're about to have the BEST years of your life, danny

ethaneskin alessandro-ricciardo kids bout to treat the tracks like mario kart deluxe 🤡

loressandro guys please... this is the only man who's willing to put up with me. stop scaring him away

danielricciardo i'm not scared, i am challenged 😎

landonorris danielricciardo mental health wise? bc same.

danielricciardo when are we having our little ricciardo??

loressandro depends if your swimmers are still working in few months or years. also if you stop laughing at your own nephews and nieces, dickhead

danielricciardo got it ma'am. anything just to have your kids <3

[nico-di-genova]

Damn. Milton’s a cat 5 and I got four cans of soup, hot fries and three filled reusable water bottles to get me through this thing.

[shrikeseams]

idk black bean soup, for pressure or slow cooker

A few tablespoons of oil or butter, whatever you have or like

Diced trinity (onion, celery, bell pepper. I used pre-cut stuff from the grocery store because Milton wiped out my freezer contents. Honestly whatever aromatics you have on hand will serve.)

Minced garlic, like a spoonful-ish

Minced chipotle peppers in adobo, a spoonful or two (i like the jars, but sometimes can only get cans)

Stock or bullion however you like, or whatever you have. I used better than bullion mushroom because i had a jar in my pantry. If you have an open bottle of sub-par wine, a cup or so of that might be nice. Around 4 cups total, assuming you're making a half pound of beans.

A half pound of black beans, rinsed and checked for rocks. If you're doing this in a slow cooker, pre-soak them in cold water overnight first. Scale up if you like, I just cook for one.

Cumin, to taste

Garlic salt, to taste

Sour cream, if you like that kinda thing. Straight cream would be good too. Coconut milk might work if you don't do dairy fat.

Corn muffins or cornbread to serve with

For the pressure cooker:

Put it on saute mode. Add the fat and the veggies, and let cook until soft and aromatic, and they start to stick to the bottom a little

Mix in the chipotle and, if using, bullion concentrate, then add the beans and stock/water/whatever liquid you're using.

let cook on high pressure for 45 minutes. I let it depressurise naturally, but I don't think using quick release would hurt.

Mash up ay least some of the beans. An immersion blender is nice here, but a potato masher or a large spoon does fine.

Add cumin and garlic salt to taste. For me that's at least a tablespoon of cumin and a light shake or garlic salt, but it depends on what you like and how salty your liquid was.

Serve with a plop of sour cream and a hot corn muffin.

for the slow cooker:

If you're fancy, saute your veggies in the oil on the stovetop, then add to the slow cooker. If you're not fancy, just dump 'em in there as-is.

Mix in the chipotle and, if using, bullion concentrate, then add the beans and stock/water/whatever liquid you're using.

let cook on high for... probably ly at least four hours. Let's say most of the day to be sure? Idk, I always wind up letting g my slow cooker beans go for at least 8 hours. If you want them quicker, just make sure the beans are all cooked until fully soft. Nobody really likes crunchy black beans.

Mash up ay least some of the beans. An immersion blender is nice here, but a potato masher or a large spoon does fine.

Add cumin and garlic salt to taste. For me that's at least a tablespoon of cumin and a light shake or garlic salt, but it depends on what you like and how salty your liquid was.

Serve with a plop of sour cream and a hot corn muffin.

[mediumtires]

okay so here is a quick little something inspired by this video.

Max calls late at night, Christian is a Good Surrogate Dad, and Toto just really likes his husband.

((this is a lil sad maybe be prepared))

--- 

“Toto.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to get the guestroom ready.”

“Okay?” Toto furrows his brows and lifts his gaze from the illuminating blue of his laptop screen. “Are we getting visitors?”

“Visitor. Just one,” Christian says, and there is something solemn to his expression. “Max just called.”

“Max?” Toto’s eyebrows lift. Christian nods and holds his gaze and the seriousness with which he does it makes Toto close his laptop without saving the files he’d been working on. “Is everything okay? Is he not in Holland?”

“Yeah, he was. Is. He’s on his way to the UK right now.”

He says it like it isn’t twelve past nine on a Wednesday night. Everything about this is catching Toto’s attention. “On his way… from Holland? And he’s sleeping here?”

Christian nods. Toto gets up from behind his desk. He knows the look on Christian’s face. “What happened?”

Christian falters. He allows Toto’s hand to curl around his hip. “He wouldn’t say on the phone. Something to do with Jos. He really just…” Christian clears his throat and says, “He really just asked if he could come.”

Toto studies Christian for another quiet moment, lets the words hang in the space between them, reads them for what they are, for what Christian read them as well. And more than anything, he trusts Christian’s instincts. “Do we need to go and pick him up?” he asks. “From the airport?”

Christian’s expression softens. “I told him I’d pick him up from Milton Keynes. He can use the airfield there.”

“I’m happy to go get him,” Toto says gently, “if you want to get the house ready. Or if you think he will be more comfortable with you, I will get things ready here.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Christian’s mouth, right where it wants to curl up into a soft smile.

Christian leans in for another kiss, a brush of lips and a quiet “I love you” all in one.

“I’ll get him. Pick nice sheets.”

---

Toto chooses the nicest ones he can find, based on softness, thread count, and thickness. He makes up the bed to the best of his abilities, goes downstairs and gets two more pillows from the living room, the soft, fluffy ones Christian likes to run his hands through when he’s tense. He also gets a bottle of water, a glass, and a few protein bars on the way, then changes his mind, drops the protein bars and grabs some chocolate instead.

He remembers the times oh too well, whenever he would have to crash on a friend’s couch for a night or two because money was tight and his options were limited. He knows none of these things really apply to Max, but still, he remembers the embarrassment, the feeling of not quite belonging, of being out of place and feeling like a burden, and from what little information Christian has provided him, Toto wants to make sure Max doesn’t have to concern himself with those feelings, too, once he arrives.

He tries not to overthink it too much. Max won’t care about candles or anything like that, Toto doesn’t think, so he just leaves the room tinted in the soft orange light from the bedside lamp and with the heating on so Max won’t freeze.

---

It takes about an hour until he hears gravel crunch beneath the tyres of Christian’s Range Rover, and Toto calls the dogs, eager and excited, to his side and leaves the volume of the TV exactly as it is, so Max doesn’t feel uncomfortably exposed when he comes in.

It’s Christian’s voice first as the front door opens and Bernie and Flav are ready to zoom out into the hallway, eager to greet him, but Toto holds them back with a gentle click of his tongue.

“Just leave your things by the door for now, we can take them up later. Don’t worry about it,” Christian says. “Let’s get you warmed up first. Do you want a cup of tea?”

There’s a low murmur in reply as the door to the kitchen is pushed open and Toto turns his head. Max is trailing behind Christian, pale, and where he normally stands tall with his shoulders pulled back, tonight he looks small, hunched in on himself, hollow, wide eyes and weariness written in every line of his face.

“There you go, that’s Toto, my husband.” Christian’s face morphs into a soft grin, wrinkles deep around his eyes. “You might’ve seen him around once or twice.”

“Hello Max.”

Max’s eyes flicker to where Toto is lounging on the sofa and for a moment, he meets a gaze completely unguarded. A young boy, tired and scared and sad. Toto’s heart shatters.

He gets up, slowly, so as not to startle either Max or the dogs, and shuffles over into the kitchen. Flav and Bernie trail behind him, first curious, then excited when they recognise the new visitor as someone familiar.

In passing, Toto places a hand on Max’s shoulder, a light touch, there, then gone, and hopes it is understood as reassuring. “Are you okay with the dogs? Or I can take them upstairs.”

“Uh… No,” Max’s voice cracks. “No, I mean, yeah, no, it’s fine. Thanks.”

Toto smiles at him, then steps up next to Christian, wraps an arm around his middle and drops a kiss to the top of his head. “There is some dinner left in the fridge,” he says, presses another soft kiss to the side of his husband’s face and adds, “I will leave you guys to it.”

Christian breathes around a smile, squeezes his hand in a quick gesture of appreciation. When Toto rounds Max once more, he smiles at him and says, “It’s good to have you here.”

---

Before Toto turns in for the night, he goes back downstairs. Technically he doesn’t need to check on things, Christian will come and join him in bed when he’s ready, but it’s been almost two hours and Toto wants to make sure things are okay.

The ground floor lies in darkness, only a sliver of light is coming from the kitchen and with it the hiccupping sounds of heaving sobs and choked up breaths. For a moment, Toto freezes right where he stands, an arm’s length away from the door.

He chances a glance through the crack where the door has been left ajar and his heart smarts at what he finds. Christian and Max at the kitchen table, Max with his head bowed and his arms wrapped around himself, trembling minutely under the weight of his own sobs, and Christian’s hand curled around his forearm, trying to console him.

Toto doesn’t stay to watch. He understands this is a private moment, Max sought Christian out because he trusts him, and Toto doesn’t want to break that trust by barging in on a moment as honest as this. But before he turns his back on the scene he chances a last look, not at Max, but at his husband, with an unusual softness to him, a tender gentleness in the way he holds Max in the only way he can, with a hand wrapped around the boy’s arm and his thumb stroking the exposed skin. Toto can’t help but think he chose well.

I will send out an army to find you In the middle of the darkest night It's true, I will rescue you.

[madhattervanessa]

Kill You To Try (Chapter 2)

Summary: It's time to settle back into your life at the ranch - even more than you had in the past.

Warnings: Overbearing care, alcohol consumption, some minor injuries but no graphic details

Words: 2389

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Series Masterlist

-

“Hey.” 

You clutch your reins tighter as Rip rides up next to you.

“You’re asleep in the saddle, Bones. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You still sleeping at the family lodge?”

You don’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, you take another swig from your water bottle.

You squint at one of the cows from underneath your brim, putting your horse in trot to get a closer look.

You hear Rip coming after you, following like a shadow. You lean backward towards your saddle to fish for your notebook, eyes still fixed on one of the cows, your nose scrunching as you try to see if that was a stumble or a limp.

You slip, mismanaging where your bag is. Your hand gives a protesting crunch as your palm skits over the leather and the burn of the material catching on your skin makes you hiss. Your horse whinnies, nervously bounding against you.

“Shit-”, you hiss, leaning forward and shushing your horse, losing sight of the cow you’d wanted to look up as you focus on staying in your saddle.. “-goddamnit.”

“That's exactly what I’m talking about,” Rip calls over, keeping his distance until your horse is back under control.

You curse under your breath again, hat low as you try to get your hands to stop shaking.

He bumps your elbow with a hand and pushes your notebook into your left hand. He doesn’t say anything else, blessedly.

You take a deep breath and lean forward to rub at Milton’s neck. He whinnies again and you get a look from Lee. You dismiss him with a nod before turning your eyes back toward the herd.

“What were you looking at?”

“Cows, dipshit.” You hiss, the past few sleepless nights at the lodge stirring your blood to rush through your veins.

“Well, what am I looking for, doll?”

Doll. It's been years since he last called you that. It doesn't sit right with you. It never did. Too delicate. Saccharine sweet. 

It doesn't fit you, the you with grime and blood under your nails.

When you look at Rip again, the memories feel even more vivid.

It's like you can feel the dirt underneath your nails again, the tug of your muscle from shoveling the whole night.

He doesn't let up, stubbornly meeting your gaze. Your next exhale hisses through your nose.

"Front left limp. I think. Might have just been a stumble, though."

He hums and finally, the weight of his gaze lifts from you.

Your head is pounding insistently, the pain throbbing behind your eyes. You fall back to the back of the herd, hoping to find the limping cow there.

Your eyes wander again. First over the herd of cows, then the bright, lush green of the trees, the pale blue of the mountains behind them as if they were keeping a close watch.

The terrain feels like a close hug. 

One Pennsylvania could never offer.

Well, most of it.

"Hiking is good for you, you should try it."

"Yeah, well it's good for wild girls like you, honey."

"Don't tell me you aren't a wild thing, Tess."

"Not wild enough for whatever you are doing out there, running around with those men with guns, bears, wolves, and whatever else roaming the woods. For all I know, you could be a murderer and I’d never know, all the corpses buried in the woods."

You had laughed then because admitting to the blood you had spilled in the Dutton name to a dying woman hadn't felt right. Even though it was the only thing you had ever kept from your godmother.

"Whenever you write that book... You better put me in the dedications."

"What are you thinking about?"

Your eyes drift over to Rip. You take another last look at the mountains in the distance before focusing back on your job, following Rip's lead.

"Thinking about how you should probably be babysitting the new farmhand."

"I don't care if that boy falls out of his saddle. You, however, I care about."

"The pills are working just fine. I'm guessing I should thank you for those."

"You don’t need to thank me you just need to take ‘em and get better."

You hum. 

“So why are you sleeping there anyways, don’t you have that place down in the city?”

“I’m still trying to get that place sold. Nathan already sold all of the furniture.” 

You squint against the rising sun from underneath your hat. The memory of your ex-fiancé is still bitter. The breakup still feels fresh despite the few months that havr gone by in the meantime.

“Maybe Beth could help?”

“I think she has bigger projects than selling a small apartment.” You sigh, following Rip’s lead blindly, your eyes still on the herd. “And it’s not like I have found a new place, yet.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between you and you’re about to look at him to check if he is actually still there, he speaks up again.

"You know, your father used to live on the property during busy seasons. Maybe you can ask Mr. Dutton about it."

You scoff at him and manage to look at him briefly but he seems serious about it, his eyebrow barely quirking.

"I would rather die."

"Don't be stubborn."

"I'm not. I just…", you trail off, realizing that you have no excuse or a plan that's any better.

All you know is that you can't live in another of the places where you have failed miserably at life.

Rip looks like he knows. He tips his hat and leaves you to mull over the thought by yourself.

-

"Hey, Jamie."

You smile as you knock against the doorframe of the generous living room. He turns from his laptop to look at you, still in suit and tie. He knits his eyebrows together at the sight of you and you bite at your cheek.

You'd really thought the restless sleep of the past weeks had done at least something for your appearance.

"Oh, uh, hi."

"D'you have a minute?"

"Yeah, sure. Have a seat."

You turn the couch and sit on the edge of the armchair opposite him. He squirms when he meets your eyes and it's so characteristically him that your smile is sincere this time.

"I hate to ask this, and I know it's not really your thing but I'm having trouble selling my old apartment. I heard about the deal my Dad had with yours about living on the farm during a busy season. I was hoping maybe… if you guys would be able to sell my apartment and I could move into the old cabin?"

He scratches at his jaw, eyes flitting back and forth between you and the laptop on his lap as he considers.

"You know you'll have to talk about it with Dad."

"Yeah, I know. Needed to gauge your reaction first, though."

"The worth should cover the price increase. I’m thinking he’ll agree as long as you don’t catch him in an extraordinarily bad mood."

“Why would that be?”

He just blows a breath out and scratches the back of his head. You hold up a hand and shake your head at him.

"You know what, I actually don't even need or want to know. Is the old man in his office?"

"Yeah. He just got back."

You nod and slap your hands on your knees before getting up to head to the office.

You let your knuckles rap against the door in a quick knock and listen for an answer. 

The telltale sound of his receiver clacking down hisses through the door before you hear a low grunt of Come in!.

You peek through a thin crack as you open the door, double checking you are actually welcome to come in.

"Come on in, girl, I don't have all day."

Got one of the bad moods, then. 

"Just making sure I'm not interrupting, Sir."

He sighs and leans onto his arm, his hand dragging over his face before he looks up at you.

"No, no, any distraction is welcome. What's going on?"

The door falls shut behind you with a quick flick of the wrist. You prop yourself up against the back of the chair in front of the Dutton patriarch's desk.

"I just wanted to start off by saying that I'm really grateful that you let me stay here for so long inside your home."

"You're practically family, kid. You know it's the least I could do for what your father has done for this family."

The reassurance makes you smile. You take a seat and drop your shoulders as you meet his eyes again.

"I actually wanted to talk about that- Rip mentioned the cabin my father was living in, on the property?"

John doesn't say anything, simply watching you with his chin in his hand.

"I'm having trouble finding something close enough to the farm for me to be able to continue working like I have been. And my old apartment still hasn't sold so maybe we can... I don't know, Jamie said the market worth is still good-" you fumble with your words now, your skin itching uncomfortably at John Dutton's unchanging expression.

"Are you trying to buy the cabin or live in it?"

You feel yourself falter for a moment before grinding your teeth.

"I'd never try to wrangle land off of you, Sir."

He grunts, rubbing his hand over his chin as he regards you thoughtfully.

"It wouldn't be too different from the deal I cut with your father."

You wring your hands underneath the table, sitting very still as you watch the cogs in John Dutton's head turn. He nods to himself, pursing his lips as he lets his hand fall to the table.

"We'll rent the apartment out. Just in case."

In case of what? you want to ask but you know better than to ask. It wasn't a question. It wouldn't be any of your concerns any longer anyways.

"You can move in tomorrow. Take the day off and let someone help you."

"Thank you, Sir."

"I'll have Jamie draw up some papers you can sign tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

He just nods.

"Have you eaten?"

You furrow your brows, eyes snapping up to his. He sighs.

"Gator is still here. Get some food before you move over to the cabin."

After returning from your impromptu move, it's already late and the sun is setting, tinting everything into a soft, golden hue, the red glare of the sun almost biting.

-

You'd joined the guys at the bunkhouse hours ago, "celebrating you moving in with the family" as Lloyd had said before Ted and Rip had dragged you inside to play poker.

Three beers later, you are already 50 dollars poorer but your cheeks are warm and hurt from smiling.

"You guys are so full of shit- How are there so many aces?"

That gets you another round of raucous laughter.

"You have got to learn how to cheat better, Bones!"

"Ain't no such thing as cheating in medicine! You guys won't make a dishonest woman of me", you disagree vehemently, pushing Ted next to you when he tries to sneak a look into your cards again.

He gives a short woah as the stool underneath him wobbles dangerously- and then crashes, putting Ted onto the floor with a holler from everyone around.

"Jesus, Bones!" Lloyd laughs, already hauling Ted back up - you grab his other arm and haul him up, flustered beyond belief.

"You okay Ted?"

"Yeah I'm good, 'side my chipped pride-"

"Only thing that got chipped is your ass, Ted! Now get yourself another chair", Rip immediately interjects- it gets Ted to his feet and from complaining much faster than your gentle words of care and checking to see if he is alright. As he walks off, however, you know, you won't be spared from another comment.

"I think I at least get some of those snacks you got from the city for that, Bones!", Ted calls out as he turns towards the bunks.

You groan, waving off the slew of agreements.

"Bring some of that expensive whiskey, too, while you're at it!"

You lift a middle finger as you stand in the door and grin before you slam it shut to keep the warmth inside.

You hurry, jogging through the cool night air towards the house of the Dutton's where your last few things still remain until you can ride up to the cabin and get them there.

You smile at the thought of getting some peace and alone time in the cabin, all the projects you are already set on, cleaning and repairing- it will be good for you, you think.

Your therapist would probably agree.

If you would actually call her back.

It's been a while.

You bump into something solid and almost shriek but Gator's arms keep you still and you bite your lip as you look at him.

"Oh- hi-"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine, I- what are you doing? You're usually gone by this time."

"Wanted to make you a few things to keep in the fridge now that you're out of the house."

Oh.

Oh...

"Uh, thanks, Gator-"

"Gabriel."

You tilt your head at him.

"It's Gabriel, actually. Figured you should at least know my first name."

"What would I need that for?"

He just smirks before turning back to the Tupperware in front of him.

"Just grab whatever you were here for. I'll drop these off in the cabin for you, later."

"You coming back with the goods or did you get lost, Bones?", you hear Rip calling through the window of the kitchen - you both jump, and you can't help the guilt that makes your cheeks flush as you turn towards the pantry that you had hid your snacks the previous few weeks.

Gabriel shares another cheeky look with you as you leave that makes your stomach do funny things.

But that might just be the alcohol.

-

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