#water boy lance

[hypfden]

Let it be summer!!! NOW!! (Ft lance in his natural element)

I’m never gonna stop drawing the one sided* pining. It’s all I have plz and thank you

I’m not drawing sand imagine that they are in a beach

[alohaasaloevera]

STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID THEY’RE IDIOTS AUGHHHHH I’M WRITHING ON THE FLOOR BECAUSE OF HOW BRUTALLY PATHETIC THEY ARE!1!1!1!1!1!1!1

[blaiddllodi]

[ H-True-O Water ] - Originating from an artesian aquifer from the frigid lands of Albinea, this bottled water is boasted to be the finest in the world. With all that marketing thrown at you, you can really taste the difference!

Forsyth has a terrible time saying no, and he's found himself carrying a bottle of this strange, supposedly artisan water. He's plenty quenched for now, but it doesn't hurt to have extra, at least?

He's walking along the edge of the ballroom when he notices a blond young man standing in a corner. As a staff member, it is his duty to ensure the students are doing well.

"Are you doing well?" Oh, that is the crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, leader of the Blue Lions house. Forsyth immediately stiffens, unsure of how he should continue his address, especially if the young prince could be unwell. "It's important to stay hydrated. If you need it, I have some water."

Though the night had been plenty stressful, Dimitri had not expected for so many of the faculty to approach him with concern for his welfare. He supposed he must have not hidden his disquiet nearly as well as he'd hoped, or else that there truly was something in the cheese from earlier.

"Ha, please, don't be concerned. I'm quite well." A lie, but a smaller one now that the evening waned than when it had began. He offered what he hoped was a mollifying smile, raised a hand in part greeting, part dismissal.

"Oh!" But he did like this brand of water... "Er...I believe I had a bottle, at some point, from earlier - it's more popular up north, where I'm from, than here I suppose."

A laugh, as though realizing how silly it sounded now - to be here in the mountains with a preference for water, when surrounded by such pristine snowmelt. But the snow always seemed purer at home.

"You are a knight, aren't you? I don't believe we're acquainted. Here, a trade - " Dimitri extended his white feather, and took the teardrop crystal in its place; his smile widened. "I believe that's all of them for you, isn't it?"

[cheriladycl01]

Qatar Heat - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Everyone has a hard time at the Qatar GP, most needed medical attention once the race finished, some drivers retired and some continued even though they threw up in their helmets. What happens when the female of the grid, who already struggles with body temperature regulation finishes the race?

It was Thursday, which was media day in Qatar which meant that right now you were walking round the paddock in shorts and your Aston Martin Team top.

"Lance, hey are you okay?" You ask your team-mate. You'd known him since last year as the reserve driver for Aston Martin, Seb wanted you to take his place after retirement.

"Yeah, its just so hot. And Henry's still making me do training" he complains.

"I know but think we got the ice bath's later!" you grin excited to have the ice bath. After a hot day of training it was like a reward. So you did your ball exercises and you did a track run for the media team. Afterwards you were about to lay down on the track ground but it was blistering when you put your hand to it.

"Tires are gonna get shredded" you complain a little out of breath to Jessie your personal trainer.

"Can we go get water and smoothies now?" You ask and Sid one of the media guys who had followed you around today nods. You guys get out of the sun before running into the garage and collecting as many people's orders from the garage as you can.

You bring everyone back what they wanted on a tray. Sid filmed you the whole time, so he could upload it to the Tik-Tok saying that the new Aston Martin waitress is pretty cool. And another one joking that you can always fall back on waitressing if F1 falls through which you found hilarious.

"Okay, Lance Y/N. Ice bath time!" Mike Krack informs you both. You go into your driver room changing into your bikini that'd you'd brought with you. You pull the Aston Martin polo back over, feeling as though it would be odd to walk out the back of the motorhome in a bikini.

You see the cameras on you and immediately smile. You go up very close to the camera.

"Hi guys, i felt awkward coming out in just my bikini so Aston Martin Representation!" you whisper before stepping back and poking your thumbs at your top to show them what you were talking about, as if it wasn't obvious.

Looking to your left, Lando, Oscar, Alex and Logan were also all doing icebaths out the back of the motorhome too.

"Looking good boys" you shout after wolf whistling in their direction, they all laugh having finished their icebaths coming over to you and Lance.

"Come on" Alex gestures you towards the ice bath. You roll your eyes pulling the top over your head and passing it to Alex, he steps back looking at the other three boys who are shamelessly staring at you.

You were the current youngest on the grid. 21 years old, so Oscar, Logan and Lando all took a liking to you, not only because of the age similarities but because of your sense of humor.

"Ready Lance, you ask your team-mate whose shirt was just pulled off and handed to Mike who was helping the social media team.

"Lets make this interesting. First to fully submerge wins"

"That's not exactly fair your from Canada...okay your on" you shout and before anyone can blink your jumping into the ice bath. Your up to your thighs before you watch as Lance starts to sink down. Not even thinking about the cold you just force your whole body down. You can feel the cold all around your hair as it floats up and you can feel the cold water on your eyelids.

You come back up with a gasped breath before looking over at all of them.

"Who won, it was me right?" you say with your eyes blown wide as Lance emerges.

"Yes, but your fucking crazy" Lando laughs looking at the smile that comes across your face.

"Hahaha Suck that Stroll! I win" you say looking over at him.

"Ohhh you know what we should do" you say looking over at the camera that was still pointed at you.

"We should do a thirst trap of me, so people can edit me on TikTok!" you exclaim and Oscar chokes, while Logan and Land laugh as your started to lean back in the bath, running your hands through you hair.

"Y/N how many times have we talked about this" Your PR manager exclaims trying to stop the admins from filming.

"Oh come on its what they want!" You exclaim.

After that night, you went out for food, a healthy meal of course that Lance payed for as the looser of the bet.

Friday First Practice was good, you'd come in 4th just behind the two Ferrari's and Max.

Qualifying was just as good, you were starting in 4th next to Lewis, with George and Max ahead of you for Sunday's race and that was locked in. It was exhausting, you were boiling but you pushed. Lance was angry with the car performance and got angry at Henry, you were shocked to see and hear what happened when you were still driving and scolded Lance, before nearly fainting from being dizzy.

Again, you did the ice bath dinner and slept.

Now to focus on Saturdays sprint. You did well in the first two sprint shoot outs. But ended up retiring the car in Q3, starting in 9th position.

You were so faint for the whole race. Today, it was hotter than all the other days. Your fireproof felt more clingy to your skin than usual and the water in the car was heating up quicker than it normally did.

At one point during the sprint race the water was so disgusting to drink you actually spat it out in your helmet on reflex.

You finished in 8th gaining 1 point for the team who congratulated you. You stayed in the car as you pulled into the garage for a minute before you stripped of in the garage down to tank top and your underwear. You sat on the cold garage floor, head in your hands as you panted, looking for breath.

A team member brought an orange juice up to you, tapping you on the shoulder to which you shake there hand and thank them for the gesture.

You sip it slowly, not wanting to gag like you had before.

"How you doing sweetheart" Mike comes up to you, everyone in the garage had reported to him, how red and beat up you look coming out the car. You look at him and nod.

"It's always been harder for me" you laugh looking up at him wiping the sweat from your forehead before it falls down into your eye.

"What do you mean?" he asks crouching down so he's at a similar level to you.

"I mean, you've probably never checked my medical papers right. And women struggle with heat more than men anyway but my body doesn't regulate its temperate that well... so I've always struggled with being hot in the car but this is next level" you sigh to him.

"Are you going to be okay to race. We can get Drugovich to fill" Mike says concern filling his face as he can tell your struggling from the speech pattern and labored breathing.

"No i promise I'll be okay and I'll bring us home points" you smile.

I'm going to go congratulate Oscar on his Sprint win. You smile before holding you hand out for help. He helps you up and you trot over to Mclaren pulling the taller male into a hug the minute you see him.

"You did amazingly Ozzie" you grin, still holding onto him.

"Hey! I did well as well" Lando interrupts and you roll you eyes before turning to look at the man baby behind you.

"Yes yes, well done on P3 Lando Norris" you grin pulling him towards you and hugging him. He hugs you back before lifting you and squeezing you making you groan at the harshly shown affection that you were used too.

"How you feeling about tomorrow starting P4?"

"I'm hoping for a podium with my boys" you grin, pulling them both in, one arm round each of them.

"With us starting P6 and P10. I doubt that" Oscar groans, knowing he stuffed up Qualifying the other day, along with his team mate.

"Never say never. Tomorrow's going to be a hard race for everyone"

Sunday was the day that everyone struggled as you'd said.

Max actually ended up crashing out, and after coming back on the track, the car didn't have the pace it had from the start of the weekend.

"Come on Y/N, win in rookie season will look amazing. Keep holding. You've got Oscar behind 2.3 seconds gaining and Lando behind him. 3 laps left" you engineer inform.

"Guys the heat's really getting to me" you voice but its barley recognizable through the radio.

"Not long left, just push until the end" the engineer says but his voice waivers, he could tell you were struggling but unlike Logan who retired early on, lap 40 and with only three laps left there was no point especially when you were this close to a win.

"I - I know" you waiver, you control the car, speeding up trying to get this done as quickly as possible.

Martin Bundle - AND IN HER ROOKIE SEASON Y/N Y/L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2023 QATAR GRAND PRIX

"Guy's I need to get out this car now" you cry, tears forming in your eyes.

"Okay copy that"

"I cant move" you cry, the only thing that was able to move from your body was your hands which were shaking.

"We're sending pit crew to help" your engineer says. You see race marhsalls come up to your car, where Oscar and Land pull up alongside you. They both jump out hugging their team who were stood their waiting for them both. They turn to congratulate you thinking you'd be there next to them with the Aston Martin team but see you still sat in the car.

"Oh my god, she's shaking" Oscar says looking closer at you.

"She's in shock, from the heat" Lando says running over Oscar behind him.

"Y/N hey hey hey. Its okay its okay" Lando says flicking up your visor so he could see you. He honestly could have cried at the sight. He saw you looking so exhausted and out of it, the tears in you eyes and the sweat underneath them mixed.

"Come on baby lets get you out" Oscar voices, pulling Lando back by the shoulder and leaning down into the car, putting his arms under your knees and the other behind your back before lifting and pulling you out the car.

"Can we get a cold towel over here" Lando shouts which makes your head dizzy. Oscar sits you on the car wheel, pulling your helmet off, and then your balaclava. You were extremely red in the face but he still thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

So did Lando, he had for a while, and he would always flirt with you when you were the reserve Aston Martin driver. But he cared for you, and seeing you like this pulled at his heart strings.

"You did so well today darling" he compliments. He pulls back your hair that was sticking to your face, doing it in a low bun so it wasn't tight but was out of your face and off your neck.

Lando unzips your race suit, pulling it down off your shoulders so your in your fireproof top before laying the cooling towel around you neck.

"Just breath" he smiles at you handing you and Oscar an icy bottle of water than was handed to him by his team. They got you to the cool down room where you sat on the floor with your back against the wall and your cheek resting on the cold marble.

"Great race guys. Said I'd have a podium with my... my boys" you smile, before you feel the urge to throw up. You get on your knees grabbing the bin before spilling the food you'd eaten before the race into the bin. Oscar sits next to you rubbing your back.

"Come on lets go get weighed" Lando sighs. Oscar goes first, the you and Lando watches the figure seeing you'd lost a whole 6 kilograms which meant that you'd lost 9 over the whole weekend. He, Oscar and Logan would all have to go out for a big meal to all put the weight back on.

The podium was amazing, first place and sharing a podium with Lando and Oscar had never felt better. It was a shorter podium as they wanted all of you to seek medical attention. You were eventually declared to have heatstroke and were forced on home rest in a nice a/c-ed room and lost of Peach Ice Tea's.

One thing for sure was you never wanted to race in Qatar as this time of the year again.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[novelistwriter]

The Family of Halfa's

DP x DC Prompt (With other Fandoms, this prompt was inspired by "Wished Away Series")

Danny and Wes had been together for a while. Wes was, at first, not considered part of his friend group, but as time went on, Wes integrated himself as part of Team Phantom.

Now that Wes was a full ghost, and the Consort to Danny, as he is the Ghost King, Clockwork had decided that the Halfa and his Consort are the perfect option to raise the souls of those the Time Ghost takes pity on as new Halfa's with a new start, meaning these souls don't have the memories of their past lives, but powers and such related to their previous lives.

The oldest of the reborn souls they got was a boy named Adrian Agreste, but not any Adrian, the Cat Blanc Adrian, who was plucked from his timeline before it was erased and offered a second chance at life. His power is still destruction, but only when he is feeling intense negative emotions.

The second oldest, who came a few years after Adrian, was named Callum, a boy who died at the hands of the Sunfire Elves before help had arrived. He doesn't have any unique powers but is adept at the Arcane Arts than any (fully) living person.

A few months later, another soul was given to them. His name was Eli Shane, and he perished in the Eastern Caverns during the battle with the Emperor. Eli's powers allow him to access 5 elements, with him limited to one until he switches to another, Fire, Air, Earth, Water, and Energy. And because of Junjie, Eli's other Ghost Power allows him to learn any martial arts much quicker than any being.

After a year, another soul was given to them, one of a courageous young man named Link who stopped a Demon King but suffered too many injuries to be saved. His power is time related, but not too powerful. If he dodges an attack at the last second, he is able to move faster than anyone to attack his opponent for a short duration.

2 more years later, two souls were given to Danny and Wes, Keith and Lance, who perished at the hands of a mysterious foe while giving their team time to escape. Their powers are similar yet different at the same time. They both can summon spectral lions, but Keith's is red and has fire powers, while Lance's are blue and have water related powers.

Finally, 3 years later, Danny and Wes are given 5 souls of kids, kids who died participating in a war to stop a bad guy. Aang died fighting Ozai. Zuko and Katara died in the Agni kai against Azula. Toph and Sokka died when the Airship they were on crashed in the sea before Suki could arrive on time. Aang has air and animal related powers, Katara has water and ice powers, Zuko has fire and electricity powers, and Toph has earth and metal powers, Sokka doesn't have any unique powers, but is a natural leader and adept at learning how to use any type of weapon.

After the Quintuplets were reborn from Danny, the rest of the souls were as well, as Danny needed to host their cores to have them reborn as Halfa's, Danny and Wes thought that they needed to live in a dimension, and not the Keep Danny inherited, as Danny and the reborn Halfa's need to eat regular food as well ad needing Ectoplasm, and so the kids could interact with other living people and not just the Ghosts in the Infinite Realms. So they chose a random dimension with a lot of Heroes to live in, with Clockwork giving Wes a new body to be a Halfa himself.

And now the family made of all Halfa's is living in a place called Gotham, a Gothic City with enough ambient ectoplasm as Amity, but they had caught the attention of the Vigilantes of the City, as the entire family are Alternates to the people of the dimension.

Danny is an alternate younger Jason Todd, but not as Buff. Wes is an alternate younger Roy Harper, also not as buff. Adrian is an alternate Dinah Lance. Callum is an alternate and younger Hal Jordan. Eli is an alternate Lady Shiva. Link is an alternate and younger Barry Allen. Keith is an alternate Jon Kent. Lance is an alternate Damian Wayne. Aang is an alternate and younger Bruce Wayne. Katara and Sokka are alternates to Dick Grayson. Toph is an alternate and younger Cassandra Cain. Finally, Zuko is an alternate and younger Tim Drake.

[gutsgrowingup]

klance hc because im tweaking over them rn .

lance and keith can both make food, but lance cooks better. ive seen so many people go “lance cant cook” “keith can cook lance hardly can” BLAU BLAH BLAH!!!!!! lance can cook legitimate food, shit that’ll make you want more like he is WIFEY material. this man is an angel, an absolute master of cooking. desserts? that… doesnt matter. he can make basic stuff, but the elaborate things? hardly. (hunk helps him out most of the time when it comes 2 that, he is a god send.)

keith makes STRUGGLE MEALS. this boy will grab a soft tortilla, slap some ketchup, cheese, and then microwave it and call it a “pizza wrap”. he genuinely thinks its the best thing ever. if ur ever in a survival situation and u need edible food, hes ur guy. hes got that. but he cant really cook legitimate food for shit. he will make a basic sandwich, serve it to lance, and then call himself “housewife material”. he microwaves his tea. makes his hot chocolate with water. drinks sink water. what is wrong with him, no one fucking knows!!!!!!

[klaissance]

are we getting anywhere I don't know this is hard

cowboy au is so treacherous because what are the hardest things to draw on earth??? cowboy hats and horses. and yet,,,,

[kyloherrera]

✦ ۫ 𑄼ల۫  ۪ FEB 8 — ROSES

featuring: dot, , abel, rayne, odler, mash, lance. finn x gn! reader

note: I opened a patreon if you want to support me, and also there will be extra , spicier and special content that I will post there <3.

summary: will mashle boys gift or receive roses?

genre: fluff || event || patreon

✦ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇

-Because mash is someone who values honesty, kindness, and simplicity, and he would likely see roses as a traditional and romantic gesture to express his affection he would more likely gift roses rather than receiving.

-He would approch the situation with genuine sincerity, wanting to express his affection in a clear and uncomplicated way.

-Mash would take the time to carefully select the roses, choosing the freshest and most beautiful ones he can find.

-Since he is a new one to buying roses he might seek advice from others or do some research to ensure he picks the right color and variety that symbolizes his feelings.

-He would probally add a personal touch to the gift, such as adding a little handwritten note expressing his feelings in his own earnest way.

-When delivering the rose, Mash would likely do so directly and without any grand gestures. He might approach his partner with a genuine smile and hand them the bouquet, simply saying something heartfelt like, "I got these for you because... well, because I like you a lot."

✦ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

-Lance would want to make a memorable and grand gesture to express his affection. He might plan an elaborate surprise to ensure that the moment is both romantic and unforgettable.

-When choosing the rose Lance would opt for a large bouquet of roses, maybe in a vibrant and eye-catching color like red or pink to convey passion and romance.

-He might even go the extra mile to find rare or exotic varieties to impress his partner.

-He would choose a picturesque location or create a romantic ambiance for the occasion

-Lance would likely accompany the gift of roses with a heartfelt declaration of affection. He might express his love in a bold and poetic manner, leaving his partner in no doubt about the depth of his feelings.

✦𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍

-Given Finn's reserved and serious demeanor he might be more likely to receive roses from his significant other rather than gifting them.

-He is not be as comfortable with openly expressing affection in grand gestures like gifting roses.

-So when he received the roses, he expressed a quiet surprise and a slight blush.

-Finn would thank you, and he will convey his appreciation with a genuine smile and a soft-spoken "Thank you," showing that he values the sentiment behind the gift.

-He takes his time to observe the rose appreciating their beauty and symbolism.He might reflect silently on the significance of the gesture and what it means for his relationship with his partner.

-While Finn may not be one to openly express his emotions, receiving the roses would likely touch him deeply, so he expressed his feelings

-He would probally put the roses in fresh water to keep them around him allowing them to brighten his surroundings and serve as a reminder of your love and thoughtfulness.

✦𝐃𝐎𝐓

-Being a perceptive and observant person, Dot , would first notice that their significant other admires roses or finds them meaningful.Dot might pick up on subtle cues or expressions of interest from their partner.

-He would do a meticolous planning, in which he ensures that every detail is gone through.

-He would research every type of roses and their meaning to select the most appropriate variety for their partner.

-He would choose a quiet moment to present the roses, perhaps during a private and intimate setting where they can express their feelings without drawing too much attention.

-He would accompany the deliver of the roses with a sincere heartfelt expression of their feelings choosing their words carefully to ensure they resonate with their partner.

✦𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋

-He is more likely to gift roses than to receive them, because he considerate it a gesture of affection and aprecciation.

-Abel would take the time to carefully consider the gesture, wanting to ensure that it's meaningful and well-received. He might pay attention to your preferences and interests to choose the perfect moment for the gift.

-He would choose the bouquet with care opting for a bouquet that reflects his partner's personality and style. He might select a mix of your favorite colors or varieties, or he might choose a single type of rose that holds special significance to you.

-He most likely add a personal touch to the gift, perhaps by hand-picking the roses himself or arranging them into a beautiful bouquet.

-He would also include a handwritten note expressing his feelings and appreciation for his partner.

-He doesn't often smile but for you, he will. He would present the bouquet with a genuine smile, conveying his affection through his actions and words.

-He would also say a few words to express gratitude for your presence in his life and the happiness you bring him.

✦𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

-He has a thoughtful and considerate personality, this makes him likely to express his affection through meaningful gestures like giving roses to someone he cares about.

-Rayne would pay close attention to your preferences and interests, including any hints you may have dropped about liking roses or flowers in general.

-He would carefully plan the gesture considering the timing and presentation to ensure it is meaningful and well-received.

-He would take the time to select the perfect bouquet of roses, choosing a variety that holds significance or symbolism for your relationship.

-He would also add a personal touch, by making a little love letter to you. Expressing his feelings and appreciation for you.

-He would choose a quiet and intimate moment to present to you the gift allowing you and him to to share the moment togheter.

-Along with the roses he would express his love and gratitude for you verbally , emphasizing the depth of his feelings and the importance of your relationship to him.

✦𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑

-He would most likely be direct about his feelings and his love gestures.

-First he would approach the situation with confidence and decisiveness. He wouldn't hesitate to express his feelings and intentions clearly.

-He would select a single rose, likely in a bold and vibrant color like red to convey passion and intensity.

-He would also choose a high-quality rose to reflect his own standards of excellence.

-Odler would deliver the rose with a boldness and determination making his intentions clear since the begging.

-He would approch you with a direct gaze and a confident stride, holding out the rose as a symbol of his affection.

-He would also accompany the gift with a sincere expression of his feelings. He would speak from the heart, conveying his admiration and appreciation for you in his own assertive way.

-He would also be likely to fill your bed with roses in a valentine day and make love right there with you.

✦𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐎

-He would plan an extravagant and elaborate setup for presenting the rose to you

-He will choose a picturesque location or create a romantic ambiance with decorations, candles, and music.

-He would also carefully select the perfect rose, opting for a luxurious and visually striking bloom.

-He would choose a rare or exotic variety to impress his partner and make the gesture even more memorable. Like blue roses.

-He would also accompany the gift of the rose with a poetic and romantic declaration of his feelings

-He might recite a heartfelt love poem or deliver a passionate speech expressing his adoration for his partner.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@stvrlightt123 @Mysticalpersonpoetry @mailkyeom03

[cartierre]

GOLDEN RETRIEVER | ls18

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lance stroll x fem!reader

side note: i am so obsessed with lance as of lately so... this really hit different. thank you @lovelytsunoda for saving the day!

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, scottyjames31 and 98,293 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername g'day australia!

view all 438 comments

user1 dexter is so adorable! ⤷ user2 i need a dexter and roscoe collab right now!

user3 i hope dexter had a save flight!

lance_stroll all these comments are about how cute dexter is but have you seen me on the last slide? ⤷ yourusername the cutest!

danielricciardo your australian accent is getting better with every gp ⤷ scottyjames31 i agree ⤷ yourusername i have the best teachers

user4 is dexter going to have his own instagram account?

♡ liked by yourusername, lance_stroll, lewishamilton and 57,873 others

roscoelovescoco tis my new friend everybody's: dexter!

view all 536 comments

user5 this is the crossover i needed

user6 ah omg i love that they like each other! ⤷ user7 best duo on the grid

user8 every time i read roscoe's captions i get a seizure

yourusername i think dexter would love another playdate in the future! ⤷ roscoelovescoco i love's that!

♡ liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll, lewishamilton and 88,923 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername miami really tired out our sweet boy

view all 403 comments

user9 maybe this is a sign that you shouldn't drag him everywhere with you ⤷ user10 nobody says anything when roscoe attends races but with dexter you people suddenly care? ⤷ user11 i think they know their dog's limits the best

user12 is that soda he's drinking? ⤷ yourusername don't worry, it's water!

lance_stroll is the caption about me or dex? ⤷ yourusername free ✨ interpretation ✨

user13 i love how dexter doesn't have his own instagram because y/n's profile is actually turning into dexter's

user14 why is everyone hating on how y/n and lance raise their own dog?

user15 isn't he just the cutest!? dog parents of the year

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, danielricciardo and 101,003 others

tagged: chloestroll, scottyjames31, lance_stroll

yourusername most beautiful wedding with the most beautiful newlyweds

view all 637 comments

user16 i'm so envious to everyone who attended this wedding!!! ⤷ user17 fr the vibes are everything

chloestroll ❤️️❤️️

user18 i think this is the first post in ages without dexter ⤷ user19 they probably thought it would be better to not take him with them

scottyjames31 next time yours? ⤷ yourusername i think someone's taking his sweet time to propose

user20 DID Y/N JUST SAY SHE'D BE READY TO GET MARRIED TO LANCE? ⤷ user21 they've been together for quite some time, moved in together and have a dog...

♡ liked by chloestroll, lance_stroll, scottyjames31 and 110,739 others

tagged: lance_stroll

yourusername i think dexter wants us to be an official family

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user22 OMG HE PULLED THROUGH ⤷ user23 lance is one lucky guy

scottyjames31 guess there will be a new mrs. stroll soon ⤷ yourusername i'm stepping into your shoes

chloestroll i hope lance and i picked out a good ring ⤷ yourusername a family of taste

user24 i am obsessed that lance took his sister to shop for y/n's ring ⤷ user25 sibling goals ⤷ user26 i'm more obsessed that he proposed at the canadian gp, his home race! perfect timing

lance_stroll makes the candian gp even more special.. i love you, dexter loves you as well ⤷ yourusername i love youuu ❤️️❤️️

[oconswrld]

The first meeting - Kimi Raikkönen x Rookie!Reader

summary: Maybe the sunshine can melt ice.

warnings: age gap,fluff, out of character probs,friends to lovers

(set in 2023, kimi and seb didnt retire in this fic, Y/n is in aston martin w Lance)

Part 1

--

It's Y/n's first year as a Formula one driver.It feels weird but comforting to be able to say she's apart of the big dogs. To be honest her first race week she was afraid of the others not liking her. Seeing how she is the only eastern european on the grid, her fears were caused by her accent and different way of acting.

Media day was something that was new to her. Well not necessarily but knowing more eyes were gonna be on her it was uncomfortable. Her thoughts ended early as she arrived to the room w the classic couch and screen walls. The screen reading 'Bahrain'. She was guided to the white couch sitting on the left side edge. Her PR officer handing her the pink water bottle, the white glitters she applied to it when she was 16 sparkling in the lighting.

The door opened again, familiar faces of legendary drivers appeared. Kimi and Sebastian came into the room, Seb stopping every two steps to talk to someone and say 'Hi'. After a long 3 minutes of talking coming from the blonde german, they finally reached their respective places.

Kimi sitting beside the young woman,glancing at each other earning smiles from both of them, making a silent agreement to stay close but silent. Her flustered, red face burning up as she tried to conceal it by drinking from her bottle. Is what she would've done if the cap wasn't stuck.

Kimi watched her struggling to open the bottle only to snicker and asking her a simple yet comforting question.

"Want help?" His monotone voice now weirdly quiet and kind. Her hand reaching out the bottle torwards the older man, basking in the fact he spoke to her.

His hand softly handing it back to her. A small 'thank you' left her rose tinted lips. Quickly forgetting about the thirst in her throat, she placed the bottle down on the floor turning to Kimi. Reaching her hand out for a handshake . Their hands meeting as in a form of understanding. The fin's hand was soft to touch, leaving her melting at his touch. But she wasn't the only one. He was screaming in his head, like a teenage boy having a crush.

Maybe this was when it all started.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 20

Part 1 Part 19

Steve’s shirt is wet where Eddie’s face is pushed into it, and Will’s hand is clutching his arm tight enough to hurt. Steve wants to sink into it. But the door's still open, and Wayne’s shotgun is lost in the woods somewhere. He hopes the man won't be too mad.

"Okay, okay," Steve says, taking two shuffling steps forward. "Let go of me."

The arms encircling his waist drop him instantly. His own weight settles back into his heels at the same instant the vertigo hits. A small hand clutches his elbow, keeping him upright with a grunt of strain.

"Shit, Harrington, sorry," Eddie says, voice warbling. "What do you need? What do I do?"

"Just–" he closes his eyes, listing sideways. He's so tired. "The door, Eddie."

The door closes with a quiet creak, lock sliding home with a metallic snick!

It's a tissue paper door, Steve knows it's a tissue paper door, but his legs go out anyway, finally safe enough to drop. Eddie catches him, hands clutching hips as he practically drags him to the couch.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nods. His forehead lances with pain every time he grimaces, and his cheek throbs. The wound on his shoulder has definitely reopened, and something unpleasant had happened to his ribs when he'd fallen in the woods. But he’s fine.

Will interrupts the conversation by dumping the remains of the Munson's medicine cabinet on the coffee table.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"Shit, right," Eddie replies, rifling through the contents. It's slim pickings, but Eddie plucks up a few bandages and gets to work.

His mouth is a moue of concentration as he combs Steve's hair off his forehead and puts bandages across the entirety of the laceration before blessedly leaving it alone once he reaches the hairline.

Eddie's prodding the bruise on Steve's cheek hard enough to feel the bone, when Will asks, "My Mom?"

"She's fine, Byers." He tries to smile, but loses the will halfway through, closing his eyes.

Will bursts into tears. "Thank you," he says.

Steve flops his hand forward. Will takes it. Steve doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are until Will’s warmth starts leeching into him.

"Your Mom's a badass, baby Byers," Eddie says. "She was always going to be fine."

Steve hums his agreement, too tired to vocalize. There, sitting up on Eddie's ratty couch, covered in dirt and blood, Steve falls asleep with Eddie's palm cupping his cheek and Will’s hand in his.

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he awakens, Eddie's sitting with his back to the couch. His hair's plastered to his head with grease and grime, and he's starting to smell a little. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him.

"Eddie?" he asks.

Eddie turns to him, a finger to his lips as he gestures his head toward where Will's sleeping in the recliner across the room.

"Back with me, big boy?" Eddie whispers.

Steve nods. "Did you guys make it out okay?"

Eddie scoffs. "We were fine, man." His eyes well, a few tears running down his cheeks. He swipes them away impatiently. "We thought you were dead."

Steve feels small, his voice comes out even smaller. "I'm sorry."

Eddie turns back around, back pressing into the couch, eyes trained on the door. Steve reaches his fingers out, rubbing back and forth slowly, consolingly. "Thanks for coming back."

Steve's breath hitches. It wasn't a sure thing. The line between Steve coming back and Eddie finding Steve's body decomposing in the Byers' driveway was razor thin. He should know - it's painted along his forehead in claw marks, painted in the way his vision is still a little red with the blood that had dripped into his eyes.

"Anytime," Steve says. Does it count as a lie when he really wants to mean it?

"Good, because we're like, out of water, dude," Eddie laughs. "The kid's the only one smart enough not to forget his backpack.”

"Fuck!" Steve says, a little too loudly. Will stirs, then settles. "Not the quarry again."

Eddie laughs, but not like he thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, man. I’m with ya, but there’s the kid to think about now.”

They both look over at Will. His face is smushed into the back of the chair, knees curled up to his chest beneath the blanket Eddie must’ve given him, like even in sleep, he’s doing everything he can to make himself a smaller target. Something unfamiliar in Steve’s gut wrenches.

He doesn’t want to go back there, maybe ever, but especially not right now. Right now, the thought of crossing the threshold out into the wider world makes ants crawl under his skin.

The Demogorgon’s claws are still parting his skin like butter every time he moves wrong. They’d moved through him as easily as Steve’s Father’s knife had while he’d skinned the deer, Steve standing beside him as he tries his best not to cry.

Steve doesn’t want to be the deer. But the shotgun is gone, and so the hunter must become the hunted.

“I lost the gun,” Steve says.

Eddie’s shoulder slump, Steve’s hand falls, settling in the crack between the couch and the middle of his back, stuck there when Eddie leans back into it. “I figured,” he sighs, sounding disappointed, like maybe there’d still been a glimmer of hope that Steve had just snuffed out.

Silence descends. It feels like the force of gravity kicked up a notch, the way the quiet fogs over him and pushes him down down down. The silence drowns, let’s the Demogorgon prowl through his mind. Eddie Munson throws him a brick disguised as a life preserver.

“I saw your shoulder,” he says, barely audible.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks, turning around completely, back to the door. His eyes are wide. Steve can’t read his face at all.

“What’s there to do?”

Eddie sighs. “Nothing, maybe,” he says, spinning his rings on his fingers nervously. “I cleaned it up as best I could, but that’s bad, man. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Steve’s eyes flit over to where Will’s still sleeping, but Eddie’s eyes stay planted firmly on his face. He doesn’t answer, what’s there to say? There’s no way out of here.

“Let’s just get water so we can stay alive, just a little bit longer,” Eddie says when it becomes clear that Steve has nothing left to say.

Steve nods, asking, “should we bring the kid?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but Will beats him to it. “I’m not a kid,” he says, clearly still half a sleep with the way his words are slurring together. “I’m coming.”

“He’s right,” Eddie says. “I mean, not about the kid thing, he’s definitely an infant, but we can’t leave him unprotected.”

“Hey,” Will mumbles, burrowing into the chair further and falling back asleep, clearly reassured that he won’t be left behind.

“We can’t keep him safe,” Steve whispers.

Eddie reaches out, pats his knee. Steve misses the warmth when he pulls it back.

“We’ll do what we can.”

Steve doesn’t want to go back out there. They’re safe in here, hidden away. But he will. Because Eddie asked, and Will needs him. That’s more than he’s had in a while.

He hopes it’s enough.

Part 21

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re not going.”

Keith picks his head up from the table. “Huh?”

“To the Blades,” Lance clarifies, chopping up something that looks like a bright pink potato and throwing it in a rapidly boiling pot in what Keith would call an aggressive manner. “You’re not going.”

“…I didn’t say I was.”

He didn’t. He didn’t mention anything about the Blades to any living soul. Like, yeah, he had made the decision and was going to, but.

There’s no reason Lance should know that.

“Good, then, because I took your uniform — which looks like a slutty catsuit, by the way, just so you’re aware — to the incinerator last night. It’s ash now.”

Keith stares at his best friend, jaw dropped, hands resting limply on the edge of the dining table, because — huh? pardon? what happened?

“Whatever identity crisis you’re having can happen here,” Lance adds, shaking some spices into the boiling pot and stirring it a couple times. He dips in a spoon, brings it up to his lips, then makes a face. “Here, try this.”

He marches over to where Keith has been moping as he makes dinner and shoves a spoon into his gaping mouth. Keith chokes, hot stew making its merry way down his trachea, eyes watering and chest heaving.

“A little too salty,” he rasps.

Lance scowls. “Fuck. I knew it. Gotta add more barbie potatoes.” He turns down the heat, grabbing more potatoes from the sack and busying himself with peeling them. Slowly, as he recovers from the fear of his actual lungs collapsing in on themselves, Keith stands, hesitantly approaching Lance and reaching for a knife to chop what he peels.

“So,” he starts.

Lance ignores him.

But Keith is used to this dynamic. It’s either this or flipped. Friends or not, if there’s one thing they can’t do it’s use their big boy words. So he carries on.

“I take it you…don’t want me to go, then.”

Lance grunts. “Oh, look, the caveman has room in his skull for a brain after all.”

“Uncalled for,” Keith says, scowling. “I am not the one who’s refusing to communicate right now.”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches upwards.

Score. Point to Keith.

“Obviously I don’t want you to leave, you stupid dumbass,” Lance admits finally. He wrestles the chopped roots out of Keith’s hands and practically dunks them in the pot, turning the heat back up. Keith smears his starch covered hands on his shirt in revenge (and then wisely takes three quick and giant steps back, well out of backhanding range).

“But there are too many paladins,” Keith points out. “You said it yourself.”

Lance grabs a dishtowel, twisting it menacingly in his hands. Keith tries not to think about the scar he knows Hunk has from when Lance snapped a towel at him when they were kids, wrestling in the McClains’ kitchen. He fails.

“Do you actually have any braincells left in your head at all?”

“Yes, jackass. That’s why I did the math. I leave and the numbers add back up. Problem solved.”

“You leave and Voltron falls apart,” Lance snaps. “So maybe crunch those numbers again.”

Keith stills. Lance steps towards him, still glaring, still menacing, but he doesn’t move — he holds Lance’s gaze, searching his dark eyes, looking for the words he isn’t saying. Because Keith…Keith isn’t the one holding Voltron together. There was a reason his heart caught in his throat when Lance came to him downtrodden and talked about being a seventh wheel. There’s a reason his duffel is packed, a reason he’s talked to Kolivan. He knows who needs to step aside.

“You just don’t get it,” Lance says, frustrated. He takes another step.

“You talk to us about teamwork all the time.”

Another step.

“You’re favourite thing to whine about is the bonding moment.”

Another step, this time as he pitches his voice high and mocking, flapping his hands.

“You never shut up about training as a group.”

One final step and he’s toe to toe, shoes to boots, nose to nose. Keith realises, startlingly, that they’re the exact same height, now.

“We are a crew, imbécil. Team, group, boyband. Whatever you wanna call it. All for one and one for all. The whole nine yards, all that cheesy bullshit.” He pokes Keith hard in the chest. “You don’t get to ditch.”

“But it makes more sense,” Keith argues, weakly and half-desperately. “We only have so many resources. If I can be useful at the Blades —”

“Fuck the fucking Blades.”

Keith deflates. His hand comes up to stop Lance’s jabbing finger, curling around his knuckles. Lance softens, slightly.

“I just want to be as useful as I can be.”

“And if you’re enough as you are?” Lance asks quietly.

Keith opens his mouth, but stops, automatic I’m not dying in his throat. For the first time in his life, it doesn’t seem like the truth, with the determined set to Lance’s jaw and the sliding of their fingers together, gripping tightly.

“Then I guess I’m staying,” Keith breathes.

Lance nods. “Good.”

Keith notices his hands are kind of clammy. His forehead, too, is a little sweaty. The air between them feels hot. Keith swallows.

“Your stew is on fire,” he croaks, voice rough.

Lance drops his hand, cursing.

“Oh — por amor de dios, hablas en fucking serio —”

———

At dinner, Keith eats his burnt stew without a word of complaint. When Lance drags him to the sink to help clean up, after, even though it’s not his turn, he goes, and he lingers too close and too long, and he’s grateful that the duffel he packed to leave home for good is laid emptied on his bed when he turns in for the night.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Max Saving You From A Group Of War Boys

Max Rockatansky X FemReader

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, mentions of death, rotting bodies, stealing, vehicle accident, suggestive materials (reader is worried she'll be placed in Immortan Joe's harem), injuries

Word Count: 2.1k

(A/N:) I have had a heck of a time getting this bad boy finished. But I couldn't have got it done in more perfect timing with the Furiosa movie out in theaters! I'm going very soon and hopefully there will be more Max inspiration take place cause I love Fury Road! I rewatched it here recently and my love for Max has been kindled once more! So hopefully this helps feed my fellow Mad Max fangirls! Enjoy and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

To survive in the wastelands you have to do anything and be willing to suffer any consequences. You could always lay over and just die, letting the vermin that scuttled about in the sands, take care of the remains. Or you could stand and fight, taking whatever you need no matter who it's from. That's how you've survived for so long, scavenging, taking from unlucky fellow survivors that just so happen to be in your path. Food, water, clothing, guzzolene, anything of value it was all fair game. Your biggest score, was your car. Though you didn't take it from anyone living. Raiders had come across some poor sap, killing him and taking everything of value, except for his car. It had taken some doing but you found the key buried under the sand close to the rotting body of the man who had just found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. His loss became your gain. Now you could make it across in different areas of desert in less time. Though the need for guzzolene became a problem. So far you had had good luck being able to get it whenever you needed it. Though you knew for certain that eventually your luck would run out.

And run out it did. Unfortunately you had grown cocky with your string of wins. The tires of your car spun, throwing up clouds of sand as you tried to gain traction on the loose ground. You released the pedal, quickly shifting into all wheel drive. With a roar from the engine the car finally burst forward, pinning you back. The group of war boys behind you yelling as the chase was on. You hit the steering wheel cursing yourself for screwing up so severely, you'd be lucky to make it out alive. You had seen the war boys yards away and you knew they hauled all the equipment they needed, thanks to Immortan Joe. If you could score off of them, you'd be set for a month. But it hadn't been easy and though your skills was above average you didn't get to swipe one thing until they had swarmed you. Now you were trying everything to get away. Dodging lances and hooks that would kill you in an instant, you blinked back against the sand in your eyes. You hadn't had your car long enough to become an elite driver yet and they were gaining fast. Despair crushed your lungs as one war boy pulled up beside you. You darted away only to run into another war boy rig. The two drivers started to pull towards one another, pinning you in between them.

Your hands shook as you gripped the steering wheel harder. The war boys cackled and spit, toying with you before they ended you.

"Bring her to Immortan," they crowed. "Bring her to him! He'll take care of her!"

They all agreed and the two vehicles pulled away, leaving you free. With the pressure off the sides, your car slid fishtailing and you lost control instantly. The war boys only got louder as your car went airborne and crashed down on it's hood. Your face smashing against the steering wheel as your car began to roll over repeatedly. The last roll and you were ejected from the shattered windshield. The hot sand cushioned you, but it wasn't much as you skidded to a stop. Your chest wheezing as you tried to breathe. Your car destroyed and your life forfeit, any hope of living left you. The one thing that you wished to happen was the war boys finishing you here and now, you heard what Immortan Joe did to women he liked or wished to continue his line with. You blinked at the sand as several of the war boys raced towards you.

"Immortan Joe will be pleased with us," one sneered. "Steal from Immortan and pay the consequences."

You shook your head, trying to clear your sight. Apparently you had hit your head harder than you first realized as the illusion of a man walking towards you, refused to dissipate. No he only got closer and you surely knew the Grim Reaper was now on his way to bring about your end. You'd gladly take his hand if it meant that the suffering would end and you wouldn't have to face a fate worse than death.

"Eh what's that there?"

Okay maybe you weren't so crazy as the war boys were seeing the being too. His arm raised and gunfire had the war boys scattering while two of them fell beside you. A small flicker of hope kindled, unless you were trading an end brought by Immortan Joe's battle fodder for this stranger. Though if he wanted to end you, you were pretty positive that he would have ended you already. You were an easy target unlike the war boys that were scurrying around, trying their best to fight back. Screams and thuds surrounded you as the man only kept stepping forward. Not backing down or flinching at the bullets and explosions all coming towards him. When he was close enough for your hazy vision did you finally get a good look. With short hair and a stocky build, he was quite handsome for a desert dweller. Though he looked healthy it didn't mean that he had lived an easy life. A haunted look was in his eyes and his face would twitch every now again. Something was wrong with him, but beggars couldn't be choosers as he was saving your butt.

The last war boy fell to the sand, spraying blood from his wounds and you felt well enough to sit up. You whimpered at the pain shooting through your head but when the stranger knelt before you, you quickly bit back any more noises.

"Took a tumble," he mumbled.

"Just a little one," you agreed spitting a mouthful of blood out.

He rose back up looking through all the now abandoned vehicles and even searched through the wreckage of yours. You felt a little indignant as he took several items out of yours. Sure they were stolen goods, but you had pilfered them fair and square. You attempted getting up, your shaky legs barely keeping you up. Attempting a step, you stumbled and quickly caught yourself.

"That's my stuff in my car," you glared. Though you hoped that he would listen, there was no way you could fight him, if he wanted to.

He didn't reply just kept digging before he pulled out your worn pack. You protested loudly before he threw it at your feet. He still didn't say a word as he started searching through the war boy's vehicles and even going further and searching the war boy's pockets. When he decided that he had searched and grabbed everything of value, he handed you another bag and tank of guzzolene and jerked his head towards the direction that he had come from. You knew that if you wanted to survive the night you would need to follow him. He had proven himself trustworthy so far and your injuries were becoming worse, though your legs had finally steadied enough to walk.

On unsteady feet you remained close, the stranger not saying a word but waving at the air every little bit. Surely you didn't just survive the war boys only to be taken out by some mental man seeing ghosts? His car came into view, worn and beaten up, but sturdy and reliable looking. Tossing his gear in the back seat, he looked back and waved you forward.

"Why," you sighed, suddenly becoming dizzy. You wanted to ask why he rescued you? Why was he bringing you with him? But your adrenaline infused energy finally hit E and you collapsed to the ground.

"Don't go to sleep," he muttered suddenly at your side. Tapping at your cheek. "Wake up."

"Tired..."

He shook you harder, "Wake up."

You couldn't answer, losing the battle with the darkness overtaking your vision. And then you knew nothing else.

The rumbling of tires was all you could hear as you came in and out of consciousness. The sun was still so bright and the mystery man behind the wheel muttered to himself constantly. Promises dripping from his tongue and you licked your chapped lips before succumbing once more to the darkness.

You had no idea how much time had passed in your unconscious state, until at last your eyes opened and you were able to remain awake. A small fire crackling in the background provided a little bit of illumination in a small musty cave. Your body hurt and the ache in your head had your temples pounding a horrible drumbeat. Across the way your savior leaned up against the cave wall. His body lurched forward and his chest heaved as his eyes opened. You jerked, surprised by his sudden movement. He shook his head, rubbing at his eyes before his attention was drawn to you. He took a cup that sat by his leg and moved towards you.

"Drink," he muttered holding the dented tin cup to your lips. The water was warm and gritty from dirt but you didn't care as you gulped the entire contents down, but still your throat burned for more. Wordlessly he filled it back up and brought more of the precious resource to you.

"Why," you croaked when you finally had your fill.

He shrugged.

"There has to be a reason why you helped me?"

He shrugged again.

"Stubborn fool," you retorted. After a long, quiet, and awkward pause you finally spoke again, "Thank you."

This time he grunted.

Sitting up, it took a moment for the cave to stop spinning before you were able to see only one of him again. You scrounged around in your bag, searching for the bit of dried lizard you had kept. Finding it, you ripped it in half and offered him the larger piece. Sort of an offering of peace and that you could be a friend he could trust. He took it, before devouring it quickly.

"I wasn't going to take it from you," you laughed while ripping a bite off of yours. "Now that we have broke the proverbial bread, aka dried lizard maybe we can have an actual conversation now?"

Once again he shrugged and you really were fighting the urge to throw something at him.

"Gotta name at least," you asked, unwilling to give up. If he could be stubborn so could you.

He glanced around, his fingers tapping against the metal brace on his knee. Finally he sighed and turned dark eyes onto you.

"Max."

Finally a start. You gave him your name before sticking out your hand. Reluctantly he took it but he did shake your hand. Silence filled the cave again and you were beginning to feel exhausted again. You yawned gaining his attention.

"Get some rest," Max said his boots scuffing against the ground as he stood up. "We move in the morning."

Morning came so quickly, the fire had been doused and Max had packed up everything. The cave floor bare with no signs of someone staying there. You thought that you'd look around and he'd be gone, but his silhouette filled the cave entrance blocking out the majority of the harsh sun rays. Sitting up, you gained his attention and he nodded to his car.

"Can I ask why you're saving me now," you asked once in the passenger seat.

Max sighed, "Maybe I just want to redeem myself of all the times I failed."

His gaze towards you, looked sad, tired, and lost. Your heart broke and you could understand that ache buried within him. Why he seemed distant, but kind. This world had it's way of taking anything bright and lovely and tainting it in the worst way possible. Max started the engine and started to shift it into gear when your hand covered his.

"This world is ugly," your voice wavered causing Max to cock his head. "But that doesn't mean it has to make us ugly in the process. I've done things I regret, stealing, taking from others to survive. But I always want to reach out that helping hand when I can. Like you did for me. I owe you a lot now Max, maybe this was just a chance meeting or maybe it's meant for something more."

He nodded, shifting into gear and roaring off. The wheels churning dirt into a cloud. Honestly you both didn't know what was in store ahead, and it wasn't set in stone that you would remain with Max. But right now it felt right and you wanted to see where this path would take you. Maybe this was a chance of redemption for two hurt people to find their reason and place in a world gone mad.

[hockeyshmockey]

Lance Stroll- Biggest Champion

summary: a moment between the oldest wolff and lance after some scary moments in Qatar. lance stroll x wolff reader

warnings: talk about the medical issues in qatar!

wc: 1.1k

“Papa,” you said worriedly as you say next to Toto in the Mercedes garage in Qatar. Since you had begun seeing Lance, throughout this season, the set up usually was you watching your boyfriend and friends race from the Mercedes garage and stepping out to see Lance pre and post race. Unless Chloe was in town where the two of you could be found giggling in the Aston garage, this seemed to work for the two of you.

That day in Qatar had been otherworldly hot. Lance had not been having the greatest weekend, taking ice baths every hour it seemed like and spending a lot of time in his drivers room trying to work through his frustrations. You had joined him some of the time, offering him silent comfort which seemed to be what he needed with all the pressure sitting on his shoulders.

As you and Toto stared at the screens showing several onboards and now sharing Logan’s voluntary retirement, your worry crept up for not only Lance, but your friends as well. A hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing to offer support as Lewis joined your little group. Carmen was standing off to the side with George’s trainer, chewing on her nail as she shared similar worries about her boy in the drivers seat.

“I really can’t believe this,” Lewis shook his head as Logan was wheeled into the Williams garage. “This is so dangerous. The FIA can't let this happen again.”

The group all watched as more and more drivers chimed in over the radios about not feeling well. Alonso pretty much asking his team to throw water over him on his last pit, which they couldn’t do. After another round of Max crossing the line first, finally some relief hit as the groups shoulders lifted knowing their final driver and friends would be getting out of the cars soon.

Watching the other team onboards which your father kept on a separate screen for your benefit, you winced as you watched Alex have to be assisted out of his car. Switching over to Lances, you watched as he sat in his car for a minute before trying to haul himself out. You felt slight relief as he made it from the car, leaning over by the tire for a second. But that relief was short lived.

As you saw him stumble, you gasped, hand covering your mouth as your father frowned, the two of you watching as Lance’s knees buckled and sent him fumbling into the door of the ambulance. Toto put a hand on your back as you both watched medical personnel approach the driver, before the feed was cut.

“Go,” Toto nodded as you looked on helplessly, taking no time before hightailing it from the Mercedes garage to the Aston Martin one down the row.

“Is he ok?” You asked breathlessly as you saw Lawrence and Lance's Engineer standing together with matching frowns.

“He had some trouble with the heat,” Lawrence said as he put a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. “He didn’t look too good getting out of the car but they took him right to the medical center.”

“Will they let us in?” You immediately asked.

“I’ve got to wait for Fernando,” Lawrence sighed, looking over at Ben and Henry. “I think they’ll let Henry in, you want to go with him and work that charm? Check on our boy?”

“I’m on it,” you smiled weakly as Henry nodded, leading you out of the garage to where he grabbed an Aston golf cart and drove you over to the medical center. Considering the state of the drivers, the usually calm area was a mad house with other team members, drivers, and some partners as well.

You followed Henry’s lead as he walked up to one of the track workers. The two spoke for a moment, Henry gesturing over his shoulder to you. As the worker saw you wringing your hands and the clear worry on your face, her own expression softened and she nodded before pointing down the hall.

You hurried after Henry, keeping up with his long strides as the two of you approached a curtained off area. Henry peeked his head in before pulling back the sheets, showing your boyfriend sitting on the bed in no shirt and just his fire proof bottoms.

“Hey mate,” Henry said as he approached the bed, clapping Lances shoulder as the boy smiled up at him tiredly. “Boss man couldn’t get away but wanted us to make sure to come check on ya.”

“I’m alright,” Lance said, his words slightly slurred with exhaustion as he looked past Henry towards you. He reached out a hand, you immediately rushing over to grab it in both of yours. “Just exhausted. They’ve got me on some fluids right now.”

“Some good rest and food will get you right,” Henry squeezed his shoulder before looking back at you. “We’ll I’ll leave you and report back to Lawrence. You both should be able to get back to the garage but if not give me a shout, I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you Henry,” you said softly as he smiled at the both of you before heading back out the way he came. You took a long second now that you were alone to let your eyes take in all of Lance’s face- skin sweaty, eyes tired.

“I really am ok,” he murmured, cupping your cheek as he saw the unshed tears on your lash line. You nuzzled in to his touch, letting out a sigh as you felt some of the weight on your shoulders lift just having him in front of you.

“I’m glad, it was scary out there,” you rasped out, looking at him once more. “A few other guys apparently passed out in the mc post race.”

“God this should’ve never happened,” Lance shook his head. Any further talking was put on pause as a nurse shuffled in, taking stock of Lances IV drip and telling him he would still be here for another hour or so for observation.

“I know I wasn’t at my best this weekend,” Lance admitted thickly. “And I’ve got some apologies to make. But being in the car, feeling like I could’ve gone off at any moment. All I could think about was getting back to you. And telling you how much I adore you, and that I don’t say it enough, but I’m really thankful for you and everything you do for me.”

“Oh schatz,” you said as you leaned in teary eyed again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing your best. Your frustration is something everyone understands, we just need to find better ways for you to express it. There is nothing I would change about you. I love you and I love being your biggest champion. There’s no getting rid of me.”

“I love you,” he smiled tiredly, pursing his lips with a pout till you rolled your eyes and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

[khywren]

❛ pairing: Astarion/f!Tav; Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) ❛ word count: 1.3k ┊ ❛ rating: 18+ MDNI ❛ tags/cw: handjobs, biting, sub/soft Astarion

‣ preview: Astarion's brain nearly short-circuits, wiped clean of all coherent thought. Thinking feels like wading through deep water, and he resurfaces with a gasping cry, hips jerking as he thrusts erratically into her hand.

“Don't stop,” he begs. “Please, don't stop.”

“I won't,” she promises, sing-song. “Now be a good boy and tell me how good it feels.” AO3 ┊ series masterlist

Astarion regrets many things, but one thing he doesn't is letting Ysera discover just how sensitive his ears are. 

She's sitting behind him now, pressed against his back, arms laced around his torso and her mouth tracing the pointed shell of his ear. The only thing more satisfying than the way she gently nibbles and sucks on the tender, flushed skin is the hand she has fisting the base of his cock, and when her hand glides up his shaft and to allow her thumb to sweep against the weeping slit a shudder wracks his entire body.

He doesn't intend to let out such a broken little cry, but his mouth is falling open before he knows it and he just can't stop himself. Ysera's tent is on the outskirts of camp, but anyone who happened to be walking by would be more than aware of what they're up to.

Ysera's tongue is warm and wet against his ear, and she hums, pleased with his response to her ministrations. If she's concerned that Astarion is making too much noise, she doesn't say anything about it.

Astarion considers that maybe she wants someone to hear them, to know that she's the one responsible for taming their resident rogue and reducing him to a trembling, whimpering mess. His modest little sorcerer, taking pride in something like this… it's almost embarrassing how much the idea excites him.

“Do you like this, Astarion?”

She asks the question with characteristic innocence, but he can feel the way she smiles, knows the way she's looking at him as well as he knows the back of his own hand. When he doesn't respond immediately, she squeezes her hand around his cock and strokes him slowly, just enough to tease him – just enough to leave him aching for more. He doesn't even mind, not when it feels this good.

It takes a moment for him to remember that she's waiting for him to respond, so dense is the haze of arousal that fogs his brain. He stiffens as another shudder rolls through him when Ysera's tongue circles the pointed tip of his ear and she bites down with nothing but her plush pink lips. 

“Yes,” Astarion croaks. “Very much.”

Ysera's bare breasts press into his back as she shifts to pull him more comfortably into her lap. The heat from her body radiates over his cool skin. Once, Astarion would have felt smothered by her presence. Now he welcomes it, the safety of her arms, the way she so thoroughly attends to his needs without asking for anything in return. Even her tail embraces him, curled loosely around his feet and draped across his ankles.

If he's not very, very careful, he thinks he just might fall in love with her. Perhaps he already has.

Astarion bites back another moan as she pumps his cock a little faster, but when her free hand raises to massage his other ear between the soft pads of her fingers, his body goes limp in her arms.

“And this?”

“I –”

Astarion's brain nearly short-circuits, wiped clean of all coherent thought. Thinking feels like wading through deep water, and he resurfaces with a gasping cry, hips jerking as he thrusts erratically into her hand.

“Don't stop,” he begs. “Please, don't stop.”

“I won't,” she promises, sing-song. “Now be a good boy and tell me how good it feels.”

With the way Ysera massages his ear in soft circular motions, Astarion swears she's done this before. She keeps a steady rhythm, enough that he can anticipate the moment just before each wave of euphoria lances through him like a bolt of white-hot lightning.

“Oh,” he sobs, throwing his head back against her shoulder and burying his face in the soft waves of her unbound hair. “Oh, Ysera… that feels wonderful, darling. Where did you learn how to – nnngh!”

“From you,” she murmurs against his ivory skin. “You've always been so gentle with me. Let me return the favor.”

Ysera kisses his temple. Her hands stay busy, stroking him vigorously as her fingers trace the outline of his ear with a featherlight touch.

He falls apart beneath her lips and her fingers, sagging against her and squeezing his eyes shut. He moans her name, a string of curses, anything and everything that will ensure she keeps going.

The hand she has wrapped around his cock is slick with his precome, the lewd sounds she makes while stroking him drowned out by her own soft moans of encouragement. The sound of her voice resonates inside him, dragging a trail of searing heat straight to his core.

“That's good, just like that,” she growls. “Don’t hold back.”

He couldn't even if he wanted to. His mouth opens of its own accord and his lips find the skin of her throat and press against the marks he's made there atop her old scars. 

Astarion's throat bobs as he swallows thickly. Another whimper shatters on his lips and he gasps for breath he doesn't need.

“Y…sera…”

It's a miracle he remembers her name, let alone his own. She seems to understand, hand moving around his cock in rhythmic corkscrew motions as she brings him closer and closer to his inevitable undoing.

“You're doing so good for me, Astarion,” she coos. “Just a little bit more…”

Astarion's hips are thrusting upwards now, seeking the friction of her hand. Ysera alternates the pressure on his cock and his ear, devoutly worshiping him everywhere he needs her. His groin tightens and his toes curl, muscles straining as he lets out a strangled shout and comes hard in her hand. His come spurts over her fingers and drips down his stomach, hips bucking as he milks himself to the last drop. 

And all the while she praises him, murmuring endearments into his ear and stroking him softly as he picks up the pieces of his fractured composure. 

“Gods,” he groans, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling of her tent. “That was… incredible.”

“I'm not finished with you just yet,” she drawls, giggling when he flashes her a look of genuine concern. “Now come here.”

Before he can tell her that as much as he would love to continue, she has thoroughly spent him for the evening, Ysera instructs him to adjust himself so that he's straddling her hips, encouraging his face back into the crook of her neck. Astarion can smell the sweet, magicked scent of her blood singing to him just beneath her skin, beckoning him to drink. And as many times as he feeds from her, he can never seem to get enough to satisfy his hunger.

It's not just the blood he craves.

It's her.  

“I think you've earned yourself a snack,” Ysera says. With what energy he has remaining, Astarion scoffs, but he still buries his face against her throat. His voice is muffled when he says, “You did all the hard work, darling.”

She sighs and cards her fingers through his hair.

“I know you're hungry. Don't be stubborn. Besides, I don't want you blaming me if you can't keep up next time we're in combat.”

There's some truth to that, but they both know it's mainly an excuse for him to feed. She enjoys the way it deepens their bond and the sweet oblivion only his fangs can provide; Astarion does too, but they're both too sheepish to admit it.

Astarion smiles and parts his lips over Ysera's pulse point and anchors his arms around her body. And perhaps this time he's more than a little sincere when he tells her: “Thank you, my love.”

[writeforfandoms]

Homeward Bound 2

Find the series masterlist

Your job as the caretaker is rarely boring, especially around nesting time. Fortunately, you're prepared for almost anything.

Warnings: Swearing, accidental self harm (walking on hot sand), bits of backstory.

Word count: 1k

Your room off the hatching grounds was small, with just the necessities. A simple bed, a small table for some jerky and water, and a small wardrobe. You didn't inhabit this room all the time, thankfully - your normal room was bigger, more spacious. But for the last weeks leading up to the hatching, if you weren't out on the sands, you could be found here. 

You didn't dare go far from the eggs, especially as it got closer to hatching day. It was risky, considering you would only get a few hours’ warning, at best. 

So when someone knocked on your door at some ungodly hour, you woke and rolled out of bed before your brain even had a chance to catch up. You threw on your robe for some semblance of modesty, yanking the door open. 

One of the messenger boys stood in front of your door, hair mussed and cheeks red from his run. “One of the dragons,” he said, one hand waving back the way he'd come. 

You didn't wait for the rest of his message, pushing past him and sprinting down the short hall and to the sands. Hot sand nearly burned the bottoms of your feet, but you paid it no mind. 

It took only a moment to find the dragon in question. A new mother, gray wings spread wide, nearly prancing in distress but somehow never even touching her eggs. 

“Hey, hey, easy,” you soothed, approaching her carefully, hands up. “Easy, beautiful. Calm down and show me what's wrong.” 

She hissed, higher pitched than normal, more nervous than aggressive. But she settled, at least a little, all four feet remaining planted now. 

“Good,” you crooned, taking another couple steps closer. “Now. Show me what's wrong.” 

She hissed again but allowed you close, wings slowly settling against her back again. She stepped back carefully, allowing you to see the nest. 

And the clear crack that ran across the top of one of her eggs. 

“Oh.” Sharp pain lanced clean through your chest. “Oh, beautiful….” Ever so carefully, your fingertips ran across the crack, feeling for moisture. It was possible the internal membrane hadn't torn, in which case you could patch up the egg. Fortunately, that looked to be the case this time. You breathed out slowly, pressing your palm mid-way down the shell to check the temperature. A little cool, but not bad. 

You could make this work. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Okay. Your egg is okay.” You looked up at the dragon to make sure she understood, meeting brilliant golden eyes fearlessly. “I'm going to help.” 

She trilled softly, lowering her head to nudge your shoulder very gently. 

“Yes, yes,” you murmured, sparing one hand to pat her snout. “Go get your rider, and a few others if you can. Quickly.” 

She hesitated only a moment, the instinctive pull to remain at her nest strong, before she turned and took off. You didn't watch her go, instead focusing on shoring up the sand around all the eggs. That would help keep them all stable and warm. 

Now to address the crack. 

You didn't want to leave it alone - there was too much potential for things to get in there and cause problems. 

You had all the things you'd need for a kind of paste you could cover the crack with. It would need to be reapplied periodically until the egg hatched, but it would work. 

You spared a brief thought of thanks that your mother had taught you everything about this job. 

The tromp of boots on sand and the trill of the dragon pulled your attention up from the sand. The mother had returned with her rider and two others. Including Simon. 

“Pack more sand around these eggs,” you ordered the three. “All around them. But do not touch the cracked egg. I will be back in three minutes.” 

You stood, frowning thunderously when one of the riders goggled at you, mouth open. “Now,” you snapped.

Simon cuffed the gawking rider before striding off to grab one of the shovels. You turned and ran back to the small storage room off the hatching grounds, full of ingredients for just such a need as this. 

The sand was hot as you carried the bowl back to the egg, reminding you painfully that you were not wearing shoes. You grimaced but pushed through, walking calmly this time. You didn't want to get any sand in the bowl. 

The three riders had made quick work of getting the eggs braced with more sand, Simon still holding the shovel even as he watched you approach, eyes dark. 

“Good,” was all you offered, kneeling carefully next to the cracked egg. Partially to not get more sand around, and partially to make sure your robe stayed covering you. You covered the crack with the paste, carefully going beyond the edges of the crack to be sure nothing could get in. When you checked, the egg was already a little warmer. Very good. 

Sighing softly, you pushed back to your feet. “Very good,” you murmured. “The egg will be fine. Thank you for your help.” You looked at each of the three riders. The one who belonged to the mother dragon actually stepped forward to hug you, something you returned a little awkwardly. 

The mother settled around her eggs again, even more carefully now, crooning softly before she settled her snout right next to the cracked egg. You patted her head, relieved. 

It took until you gathered up the bowl and tugged your robe tighter to realize that Simon was still standing to one side, gaze still fixed on you. You paused, foot scuffing through the sand, eyes blowing wide before you schooled your expression back to neutrality. You nodded to him once and strode back to the storage room, covering the remaining paste with a cloth. It would keep for a while. 

You needed to wash up. 

You paused, just for a moment, at the edge of the sand where the hallway to your room branched off. Simon was standing next to Ilsbet, one hand under her chin, forehead pressed to hers. You turned away from the quiet moment. But not before you smiled.