#lance lounging

[raapija]

Flower Padre needs his own garden in the Aston motorhome

(he used to post artsy pics of random flowers on his insta, just so you understand that he really DOES love flowers 😭)

[penaltyboxboxbox]

a summer romcom you won't want to miss

[vicsy]

Vintage vibes. (x)

[osaka-lilac]

in honor of lance’s birthday here is the Biggest Lounge i’ve ever seen from him during the drivers parade

[rhithefella]

I wonder if Lance would've known Sam through David and/or vice versa...

Ooh, probably! I was thinking that Dave was the one that introduced them, and that they haven't actually met face to face just yet.

They'd be online buddies though haha.

That said.

WOE, LANCE ANCHOR BE UPON YE!!!

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy

Series Masterlist

Kicking Up a Storm

“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.

Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."

You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.

As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.

“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.

Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”

Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”

Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”

Cravings Are No Joke

“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.

Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”

Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”

George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”

Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”

Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”

Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”

George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”

As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.

Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.

“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”

Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”

You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

It’s a …

The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.

Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.

Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”

George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.

Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.

Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”

You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”

The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.

With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?

The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.

Max looks baffled, “Green?”

Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”

Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”

Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”

You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”

False Alarm

“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.

Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”

Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”

Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”

Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"

Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”

You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”

A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”

Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”

“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.

Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”

You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”

Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”

As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”

You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”

Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”

“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.

Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”

Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”

Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”

“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.

You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”

Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”

Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”

“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”

Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”

Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”

You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”

Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”

***

The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.

The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”

The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”

Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”

When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.

Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.

Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.

Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.

As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”

You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”

She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”

Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”

For Real This Time

Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”

“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.

You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.

Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.

George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”

Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”

Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.

A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”

Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”

Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”

Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.

Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”

Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.

Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”

“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”

“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”

Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[nico-di-genova]

A Conversation with Fernando Alonso

Publication: The Athletic

Publish Date: September 21, 2026

Fernando is keen to discuss his recent success with Real Madrid when we sit down at his boyfriend’s home in Montreal. Well, one of his homes. The creative director of luxury fashion brand, Strulovitch Designs, Lance Stroll has an additional property in London and another in Miami. The pair oscillate between these residences and Fernando’s own homes in Dubai and Spain. For now, they are enjoying the beginnings of fall around the cozy fire of a multi-million dollar property in the heart of the city.

“So things are good for you right now then?” I ask, as Fernando occupies himself with petting his and Lance’s dog, a lounging black lab named princess.

“You’ve got the World Cup, the house, the dog, what’s next?”

Fernando grins, it is the mischievous look of a man who already knows what he wants and how he plans to get it. The same look he is known for giving moments before helping his team to score a goal. It is why the Spaniard has attracted such attention during his long stint with the team, his relentless drive and determination to get it. This year, that commitment to success has earned him his third World Cup.

“Eh, I don’t know. We see, yes?” Fernando shrugs, the grin grows, and princess huffs. Fernando scratches her behind the ears.

“Maybe next I buy a ring. Maybe I retire. Maybe I go for the fourth.”

“Plenty of options,” I quip.

“Oh yes, plenty.”

@raapija’s football husband/fashion designer husband au, Fernando edition!

[raapija]

Lance lounging peacefully while Nando takes all the attention away from him, husband and husband 💚

[tthesongofachilless]

F1 DRIVERS AS TEACHERS

Max Verstappen - Geography Teacher

— Randomly quizzes students about which country is in which continent

— However he can take jokes

— Randomly trauma dumps (one student even asked him if they should call Logan)

Sergio Perez - Spanish Teacher #1

— " You used Google translate for that... tsk tsk.. "

— Oral assessments every friday no questions asked

— He and Fernando talk in Spanish in the teachers lounge to avoid eavesdroppers

Charles Leclerc - Music Teacher

— Has a pictures of his dog as his pfp on Google

— Forces everyone to listen to his newest piece before class ends

— Rumoured to have kissed Max outside of school (he denies it)

Carlos Sainz - Spanish teacher #2

— Seen teasing Lando during lunch and blushing

— Hates basically every student who refuses to learn any Spanish

— His favourites tease him about Lando in Spanish and he curses at them to stop

Lewis Hamilton - Art Teacher

— Really passionate about his job

— " Did you hear about Logan and Oscar? " " WHAT?.. oh... what..? I can't discuss this with my students. "

— He actually gives you tips on how to improve your work and doesn't mess up your work by drawing over it!

George Russell - English teacher #1

— " Girls can we please put the eyelash curler away. And the makeup brush... and the hairbrush, gosh how do you fit this all into your pockets!? "

— Deffo dating Alex but doesn't admit to it

— Homework every single week, will report to your parents if not handed in

Lando Norris - PE teacher

— He doesn't know himself how he got the job

— Basically lets the students play dodgeball all year

— Giggles and kicks his feet whenever Carlos pops by to say hi

Oscar Piastri - English teacher #2

— Has been seen napping in the teachers lounge multiple times, Logan sometimes acts as his pillow

— " Guys can we not.. Nando is going to kill me if he finds out I'm giving out sweets. "

— Voted most gay teacher by the students

Fernando Alonso - Head of Year

— Brings the teachers snacks to their lessons

— " What the skibidi .. " " Mr. Alonso never say that again. "

— He deffo doesn't have favourite teachers (wink wink)

Lance Stroll - Woodwork teacher

— Definitely not suited for his job

— Just eats his lunch in the middle of lessons because he doesn't wanna be with the other teachers (Estaban isn't there)

— Watches on as students try and hammer in screws and does nothing about it

Daniel Ricciardo - Science Teacher

— He only applied because he wants to do cool experiments

— " Follow the instructions. " " Sir these are in french.. " " uhmm.. does anyone wanna watch the martian? "

— Everyone loves him

Yuki Tsunoda - Food Tech

— " That looks like if Mr. Norris tried cooking. "

— Randomly gives out snacks while he's doing instructions

— Disses the other teachers but when someone mentions Pierre he gets all excited asking how his lessons are going

Kevin Magnussen - History/Religion Teacher

— He just wants to go home after the first hour everyday

— He has shelves dedicated to historical Lego builds

— Has no favourites (" You always let Fred go early. " " Fred is doing the work. ")

Nico Hulkenberg - Cover Teacher

— Laughs at dad jokes that weren't even funny

— Probably wants to apply for a different job but can't

— Dressed up as the hulk for Halloween

Valtteri Bottas - Maths Teacher

— " Guys.. I know you miss Kimi but I'm basically him but, more ass, you know? "

— Bff's with Lewis and Zhou

— Let's the class play blooket every Friday instead of work

Zhou Guanyu - Textiles Teacher

— Voted most fashionable teacher of the year

— Randomly gives out sweets to his favourite students

— Actually puts work into grading

Alex Albon - Science Teacher

— " Sir, are you dating Mr. Russell? " " I have a girlfriend. " " Show her then!! " " No. "

— Never gives back tests

— Gossips with George and Lando in the hallways

Logan Sargeant - Guidance Counselor/Cover Teacher

— He needs therapy himself instead of giving students it

— Follows Oscar around like a lost puppy, it's rumoured he's absolutely whipped for Oscar but is too shy to do anything about it

— His favourites edit him and Oscar to 'Lacy' and he can't hear the song anymore without crying

Pierre Gasly - French Teacher #1

— Him and Estaban have BEEF

— stares into your soul when you awnser a question

— " But the other class didn't have to do this! " " That's because Mr. Ocon doesn't want his students to learn proper french. "

Estaban Ocon - French Teacher #2

— " I don't understand what I did to Mr. Gasly. " " You snitched on him giving out sweets, sir. " " I don't see the issue. "

— Only talks in french in the lessons

— He himself gives out sweets and such

[aspiringtrashpanda]

A conversation about ship names with @shootingstarrfish inspired me to write this silly little fic featuring my favorite OC ever, Starr's MC Sidra!

Characters: Belphegor x Sidra (MC, he/they), Leviathan Ridiculous discussions in ship names, Belphie is still bad at art. No warnings apply

“You want to… what?” 

Belphie wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. There was always that stretch of time where he laid in limbo, somewhere between sleep and the waking world. Everything felt a bit like a lucid dream, like the voices around him fed him prompts and he could do with them what he wished. 

He was sure Sidra had spoken. The subtle vibration had lanced through their thighs where Belphie rested his head. Then, he had heard his own voice. Had he meant to speak aloud? Ah, whatever. It wouldn’t be the first time he spoke in his half-sleep. 

Another rumble through the pillow he had made of Sidra. “Come up with our ship name.”

Alright. So, he had heard correctly. It took him a while, maybe so long that Sidra had forgotten what they were even talking about, but Belphie managed to pull himself upright, to rub his tired eyes as they adjusted to the dim firelight of the living room. Sidra hadn’t moved an inch since Belphie had curled up for a nap, his nose still buried in his D.D.D. as he played some sort of rhythm game. Levi had probably introduced them to it. At least he looked comfortable, lounging on the plush couch before the crackling hearth.

Belphie peered at his partner, eyes a sliver of violet as he processed the words, hoping that the more time he took would equate to knowledge magically filling his head. He didn’t like not knowing. Maybe that’s why he got along well with Satan. Well, aside from other shared interests…

Belphie sighed, giving up. “And what’s that?”

“It’s…uh…” Sidra balked, and it wasn’t lost on Belphie how he exited out of his game mid-song. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“Did I hear ship discourse happening over here?” A familiar voice, overly enthusiastic about something Belphie was sure to find uninteresting, interrupted. Leviathan appeared like a sonic boom, heard before seen. Arms teeming with snacks and beverages, Belphie was certain Levi had been on route to a gaming session in his room. A second later and he wouldn’t have heard anything. Terrible timing, really. 

Yet, Sidra indulged him, a lazy shrug accompanied by a breezy, “kind of, sort of.”

Belphegor was lost. In a feeble attempt to understand what his partner could possibly have to discuss with Leviathan, he asked, “Are you flooding the Devildom again? Is that what’s happening?”

Ships. Water. Flood. It checked out, okay?

Alas, Levi laughed. It was that haughty laugh that irritated Belphie to his wit’s end. The one that said I know something you don’t know. So annoying.

Satan would understand. 

And despite the pity in his orange eyes stoking the defiant fire in Belphie’s gut, Levi confessed, “No, Sidra isn’t referring to a literal ship. He’s referring to you.”

Belphie blinked. “What about me?”

“No, you.” Levi went to gesture, but then seemed to remember his hands were full. He settled for jerking his head from Belphie to Sidra and back to Belphie. A violent blush bloomed to life as he stuttered, “As a…c-c-couple.”

Still, the whole concept was lost on Belphie, for he was too busy internally criticizing Levi’s inability to speak of romance without turning as bright as a screaming hell tomato. “I still don’t get it.”

“When two characters have romantic potential,” Sidra, clearly done with whatever threeway foxtrot was happening around the subject, decided to throw Belphie a bone. He chose his words carefully, pushing the sentence along with his hands. “It’s called a ship. Like a relationship.” 

His D.D.D. had fallen into his lap. Belphie liked when Sidra talked with their hands. He was so cute. 

But then, Levi had to go and ruin Belphie’s quiet moment of admiring his partner with an obnoxious but actually, “It was coined way back in an online forum where fans of a series about aliens and mysteries believed the two protagonists would get together. They called themselves “relationshippers”, and then it was shortened to “shippers” and bam! Ships.” 

The fire crackled in the hearth. For a moment, Belphie considered resting his head in Sidra’s lap and going back to sleep. Maybe he could pretend this was all a dream. 

Unfortunately, Sidra was looking at him with this expectation glittering in his eyes. Classic Sidra. Always afraid to ask for what he really wanted. But that’s why they were with someone like Belphie, right? Belphie smirked. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. 

“Okay,” He feigned nonchalance, flopping backwards against the arm of the couch. “So, what’s our ship name?”

“Well,” Sidra chewed the inside of his cheek. His warm brown eyes darted to the log in the fireplace, bark peeling away in bleached strips as the flames ate away at the wood. “Typically, the two character names are mashed together. Like, um…”

Levi’s grin brightened. This time, a bag of gummy salamanders fell to the ground with a thud! “Taizuki is the name for the romantic pairing of Taichi-san and Azuki-tan!” 

Sidra snickered, “And Lucifer and Diavolo would be Dialuci.”

Belphie lit up. Well, wasn’t that useful information. Cataloging such a name in the back of his mind, he considered his own pairing. “So we’d be… Belphdra?”

Levi snorted. Sidra frowned.

Belphie pursed his lips, “What?”

‘’Why does that sound like a monster?” Levi completely abandoned any pretense of leaving, dropping his trove of snacks on the coffee table as he chuckled, “Oh, like Lotan but with Belphie’s various expressions for each head.”

With a gasp, Sidra’s entire body lurched forward, their hair flopping with the movement. They searched the drawers of the end table, cheering when they found an old notepad Mammon had left lying around after this last round of monthly budgeting. “Wait hold on, I want to draw this.”

The silence that enveloped the sitting room was unnerving. The glint in Sidra’s eyes warned of something that Belphie wasn’t necessarily going to like, their pencil scrawling across the compressed pad with an irritating scratch. 

Sure enough, when Sidra presented his masterpiece, a flare of indignation roared to life in Belphie’s chest.

Pictured was a rather magnificent looking dragon, if Belphie did say so himself, but each of its three heads wore a displeased expression, all furrowed brows and bared teeth. Certainly a rather unflattering representation of himself. He wasn’t that grouchy, was he? Sure, maybe when he was woken in the middle of a good dream, but that wasn’t always. 

Biting his tongue, Belphie settled for scoffing, “That is not what a Belphdra would look like.”

“Then you show us,” Sidra volleyed back with ease. There was no bite to their words, only curiosity burning in the stretch of his smile and the light of his eyes. 

For a moment, Belphie forgot about Levi, forgot about the doodle, forgot about the challenge. Lost in the radiant glow of his partner’s amusement, in their dimples and their little moles and the happy blush that seeped across tan skin, Belphie considered tossing the conversation aside in favor of carrying Sidra away to the attic. There, he could kiss the creases in the corners of Sidra’s hazelnut eyes. There, he could show him exactly what a Belphdra looked like. 

But then Leviathan was clicking his tongue impatiently, and Sidra was pushing the pad of paper into Belphie’s hands. 

With a roll of his eyes, Belphie got to work. Tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips, he pressed the dull point of the pencil to the paper again and again. A curved line here, a straight line there. A little squiggle for a mouth. 

When he was done, he revealed his work to… complete confusion. Sidra and Levi stared, mouths flapping around words they couldn’t quite say. Their gazes traced the slope of the seven necks, but they didn’t seem to acknowledge the tiny circle that represented the body. They glanced from the pointed tail, to the goofy tongue, to the fancy hat upon the third head, and still, they failed to provide any sort of praise.

“It’s…” Levi started.

Sidra put him out of his misery, “Unique?”

Before Belphie could make some sort of snarky remark, his partner patted him on the shoulder. With a sympathetic smile, Sidra waved away the disappointment with a cheery, “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Our ship name isn’t Belphdra.”

Levi cocked his head. “No?”

“It’s Sidphie,” Sidra asserted, bold smile booming with certainty. At this, Levi’s expression changed rapidly. Something akin to indifference morphed into shock, into horror, into a mix of resigned yet impressed acceptance. 

Belphie was lost. Stifling a yawn, he looked between Levi and Sidra for some sort of explanation, asking, “Wait, why?”

There was a beat of silence, a mischievous smirk from Sidra the only warning Belphie received before Levi laughed, “The character who tops is usually named first.”

He was kicked out of the room via pillow thrown at light speed. 

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I've finished the first round, please give me more! This is a fun little writing exercise for me! Find out more HERE.

[beanmachine69]

can you please right a lance stroll fic where they both love each other but don’t know it yet?

Blankets | Lance Stroll

The season had ended, it was early December and as per tradition, your families were in their cabin in the mountains. It was a silly cliche, but over the years you’d grown to look forward to it, especially since Lance started his f1 career and you two would rarely get to relax together like you usually would. Having grown up around each other, you two were practically inseparable; falling into all the childhood best-friend categories you could find. You’d support his career as much as you could, cheering him on from home and sometimes the paddock- you two were seen so often together that at some point some dating rumors had sprung up too.  

You had known Lance all your life, you two had spent most of your childhood together. He was almost two years older than you, which made you the youngest of the bunch and though Chloe always treated you like a little sister, hanging out with her wasn’t always an option because of the major age difference. Your families had been together for generations, your fathers being family friends since they were kids themselves too- the Strolovich family feeling like your own second home. 

“Fires’ nice and warm outside.” Your mother commented, passing the lounge to reach the kitchen, “You two sure you wanna stay here in front of the TV?” 

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood to hang out with my drunk father, that's your job.” You replied, eyes still plastered on the large screen in front of you. 

“You both become the same person when you’re drunk y’know.” Lance mumbled, eyes not moving to look at your phony expression of betrayal.

You playfully shoved him away from you, only for him to bounce back and press his side against you again. You two were always close, having had very little physical boundaries around one another as you grew up. You’d had plenty of cozy moments, none of them meaning anything more than what they were to either one of you. Albeit, this proximity would look far more romantic than platonic to strangers, you two had learned to keep it reserved for private spaces, the last thing you needed were more rumors for Lance to have to deal with later.

Movie nights at the cabin were more than what the rest of your families had understood them to be. You could still recall how you two would bond over these nights, and how often you’d whisper secrets to each other in the blanket- secrets that neither of you would have the guts to share face-to-face. You had told Lance about your awful first kiss while some silly 90s’ comedy movie played, and he had told you about his first failed talking stage while you both rewatched Criminal Minds for the millionth time. These shared moments under the blanket and in front of the TV were sacred to the both of you, it was like a little safe space for any and all confessions, it was these moments which made your bond so inseparable; under the blankets, with the faint light of the television seeping through the fabric to illuminate the cozy space as the conversation was muffled from others by the blanket and the background noise- it was a weird tradition, but one which you both cherished. 

You didn’t mind horror movies, or the genre in general, but perhaps binging a bunch with Lance late into the night in a cabin far from civilization wasn’t the best possible idea. So there you were now, afraid in your bed after having been forced by the instagram algorithm to continue your horror binge, alone in your room with all the curtains drawn out of the fear of a mountain creature. Your fear was irrational, you had no reason to be as scared as you were, but it still managed to keep you from falling asleep. You decided if you were going to be consumed by a horror beyond human comprehension, you might as well get a snack before doing so. 

The walk downstairs to the kitchen was frightening enough, but now you could hear the wind a lot clearer now, and every breath that escaped you seemed to sound unlike your own, your own shadow frightening you with every surface that it fell on. As you began to eat the chips you and Lance had bought earlier, your mind managed to consume itself in more theories and possibilities- kidnapping, demonic possession, a gruesome death by the hands of a wendigo, could Slenderman be here somewhere?-

“What are you doing up?”

Those five words were enough for your brain to completely haywire, accepting all possible scenarios to be true all at once, your flight or fight response kicked in, making you scream and drop your chips. Not particularly fight or flight, but it was something, in the case of any of the terrifying scenarios you had pictured earlier to come true, this would have possibly been the last sign of you your family or friends would have heard. 

“Jeez, why are you screaming?” Lance laughed, aware of how his efforts to spook you had worked out. 

“Oh my God Lance, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” You scolded, shoving him in the arm. 

Your hand was on your chest, feeling your heart pounding from the sudden burst of adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d shit yourself.” Lance continued to laugh, clearly finding amusement in your reaction. 

You rolled your eyes as you tried clearing up the little mess you made by dropping the chips on the floor; Lance stayed in the kitchen, wordlessly grabbing you a replacement and one for himself too. You two stood there, not saying a word, only looking at the remnants of the fireplace outside as you finished your snack. 

“It’s really cold.” You mumbled, eyes on the burnt out logs. 

“Hm? Yeah.” He replied, moving his eyes from the window and back to you. 

The kitchen was dimly lit, with neither of you bothering to turn on any more lights than the countertop lighting that was already on. It was cozy, but for some reason the house was still cold despite the central heating. There was a dense silence between you two, your breathing being a silent acknowledgement of the other person, it was comfortable to be in someones’ presence and not feel the need to fill the space with words. 

“I can’t sleep.” Lance sighed, breaking the silence and prompting you to turn around to face him instead of the window.

“What, you scared?” You asked, teasingly nudging him a bit. 

His features looked enhanced in the dim light of the kitchen. You were never one to pay attention to how his face looked in different lighting, but the scarce light emitting from the below the cabinets and above the counters deepened his features; his brows almost seemed to cast a shadow over his dark eyes, making them seem black almost, the light shadows under his cheekbones and jaw seemed to be darkened in the sparse lighting- he almost looked intimidating to you for the first time. He didn’t seem like the pleasant and joyful friend you knew, but some serious and solemn man for a moment, only for a fleeting moment did you see that version- momentarily you quite literally saw him in a different light. 

“Shut it, do you wanna go upstairs? You could hang out in my room for a bit.”

The moment passed faster than it had appeared, making you question whether it had ever appeared or not.

“Sure.” 

Lance propped himself against the headboard, watching you as you sat across from him on the chair. The room was surprisingly cold too, was the heater not working or were you just cold?

“You never told me about that date you went on by the way.” Lance asked, putting his phone away from him; a gesture he did often to indicate his undivided attention was directed at you.  

“Which one?” You asked, not recalling any dates in the past few weeks. 

You brought your legs up on the chair, closer to your chest in order to prevent the cold you were feeling. His eyes followed your movement, tracing every bend and taking into account all of the little gestures you made, including the little hook your fingers made when you were confused.

“Y’know that stupid date your friend set you up with? The IT guy from the US?” Lance probed further, reminding you of an old date which you had successfully forgotten all about. 

“Oh that’s old stuff.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around your knees. 

“Yeah we haven’t really got a chance to sit down and talk for a while.” 

“I guess…” You trailed off, distracted by the surprise you felt by how cold it was and how Lance seemed to just not care for it. 

“So, the date?” 

“Right, yeah no it went fine, but I don’t know he just wasn’t it.” You replied, shrugging and sparing him the details. 

Lance pouted a bit, before adjusting his posture so he was lying down more than sitting up and patting the sheets next to him.

“Come on, you’re clearly freezing.” He noted, steering the conversation to a completely different route. 

You didn’t think much of it, you two would sleep in the same bed plenty of times when you were kids, it wasn’t odd at all. Even now, when Lance would crash at your house he’d sleep in your bed next to you- it wasn’t odd it was just the comfort you two had with each other. So when you crawled under the sheets and scooted closer to Lance, the both of you ignored the way your eyes locked for a moment.

“So, what was wrong with him? What made him not it?” 

Aversion. That’s what one would call it; he averted his eyes and changed the topic, that moment where your eyes locked as you moved closer to him under his sheets in his bed was nothing but a fleeting moment. 

“I don’t know Lance, he just wasn’t my type.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t have a type.” 

“I don’t… it’s just that I guess I hate having to get to know people romantically, it just seems like such a bother. Plus, remember the hell I had to be put through the last time that happened?”

Your ex wasn’t the peachiest person imaginable; he was manipulative and constantly accusing you of having a more complex relationship with Lance than you would admit to. “You two look at each other like nothing else matters, you don’t even look at me like that!”, accompanied often with several “There’s no way you two are just friends!”. His words hadn’t affected the friendship you had with Lance, obviously, but it did put a damper on the amount of time you two would spend with each other. In the end it truly wasn’t worth it considering he cheated on you with his own best friend. 

“God, he was a dick.” Lance mumbled, scooting lower on his bed and completely lying down, bringing the blanket up till his neck.

“Yeah, getting cheated on isn’t fun.” You mumbled, covering your face with the blanket; not because you were ashamed or wanted to hide your face, but because you were cold and your nose felt like it was going to freeze.

“Oh my god, how cold are you?” Lance asked, accompanying you under the blankets, swatting them a bit so the thick material wouldn’t hide your face from him. He reached over to grab your hand, only to let out a small yelp after feeling how cold they were. “Woah, you’re fucking freezing.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m this cold.” You replied.

There wasn’t much need to ask or say anything, words weren’t a necessity in communication between you two sometimes. He just knew you well enough to know what you’d need and you knew the same, and so he covered the distance, and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm hug. 

Several moments had passed and though you were still feeling cold, his body heat had managed to warm you up enough for it to not be a problem. As an unspoken token of appreciation, you had begun gently rubbing your fingertips on his scalp, something you knew he liked. 

“Do you remember when we were teens and we’d sneak into each other's rooms like this and watch all the shows we weren’t allowed to watch?” Lance whispered, not needing to talk at a higher volume due to the proximity. 

“We used to sneak into each others’ rooms all the time, remember that annoying nanny our parents would bring along? That old lady who was convinced we were up to no good?” You laughed, remembering how often she’d complain to your parents about your antics and how Lance wasn’t a good influence on a young girl like you.

“Oh God, she was the worst. She used to be on your ass about everything, she always said you weren’t proper enough.” 

“Ooh ooh, remember when we managed to sneak out with Chloe and go to that party with her friends in the summer?” You chimed, remembering something completely off-topic.

“Yeah, that time her friends forced us to kiss in that stupid truth or dare game, I swear I told your dumbass to sit next to me but you just had to sit next to that stupid guy.” Lance scoffed. 

“Oh my God yeah, that was my first kiss.” You replied, recalling how flushed you were and how glad you were now to have that memory be with someone like Lance and not with some weird, much older guy. 

“Wait, really?! I thought that was just something you were messing about!” He pulled away to look at you better. 

“No! Why would I lie about that?!” You asked, pulling away from his chest a little too, craning your neck to look at his face. 

“I…. I don’t know.” Lance replied after thinking for a while, pulling you back into his chest to avoid having to look you in the eye, “I guess I didn’t want to believe that your first kiss was with me.”

“Why not?” You asked, the question laced with confusion and several different emotions you couldn’t identify, “I never told you about my first kiss, I always thought you knew it was you.” 

A silence fell between you two, a sort of uncomfortable silence which made your hand stop stroking his hair, and made his grip on you loosen a bit. The cold hit again and though Lance was still close, it just didn’t seem like enough; for the first time in your life-long friendship you felt like a wedge had made its’ way in a moments’ notice, drawing you two apart. 

You had told him the night it had happened, on the way back to your house, you leaned in and told him that he was your first kiss. It was the earliest stages of his racing career, just a little before he debuted in F4. It was so long ago, you had forgotten about it, it really was just a silly little dare, but now you felt like you’d imposed a boundary you didn’t know existed. 

The silence between you two had lasted longer than either of you would prefer, yet neither of you had mustered the courage to disrupt this silence, hiding behind it from one another like you had never done before. The cold began to make its presence known to you once again, the blanket not providing much comfort any longer.

He had never given it much thought, it really wasn’t a big deal and he wasn’t upset, rather just confused. He had been looking forward to this family vacation more than he usually would, and until he saw and hugged you, he couldn't seem to figure out why. You were his best-friend and as cliche and silly as the title sounded, he couldn’t ever just call you a friend, you were so much more than that, yet whenever anyone called you his sister he’d just end up feeling uncomfortable; he’d never seen you in that light, the thought was just weird. Realizing that he was your first kiss made him feel something he had previously averted from a few moments ago, except now, aversion wasn’t something he could do- it wasn’t something he wanted to do. He understood the reason that he hadn’t consciously accepted the fact that he was your first kiss was because he knew he liked the idea far more than he should have; he liked that he was your first kiss and he liked the idea of having that card over all the other men you had dated, he liked that you two had shared that sentiment, he liked that he was your first and most importantly: he liked the idea of kissing you.  

The situation felt awkward and you mentally decided it would be better off to just go back to your room, and so you did, quietly moving out of his bed and making your way to your own room. You had gone as far as tucking yourself in till your thoughts finally started piling on.

What if I pissed him off? Why did he get so quiet? Did I fuck things over? God, how did I manage to mess up the one friendship I thought would last forever? Why does it matter, we’re just friends and the idea of us kissing shouldn’t ruin a life-long friendship, should it? Unless he has another girlfriend again, God I really don’t want to have to go through that again, Wait, why not? It shouldn’t matter if he dates someone, right? I mean I haven’t been the biggest fan of his exes but who am I to- 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door to your room open, followed by shuffled footsteps and a weight on your bed. You turned to make out what you correctly assumed to be Lance, crawling under the blanket with you. You heard a huff of breath as he got comfortable, wrapping his warm arms around you again and pulling you into him once more.

You were confused momentarily, not having been able to completely exit your mind palace before you had to register all that happened. However, it only took you a few moments to adjust before you hugged him back, adjusting yourself against him slightly before fitting perfectly into his arms. 

“Do you remember how we’d sit under the blanket and cover ourselves completely in our blanket forts to talk in private when we were younger?” Lance asked, his smile almost audible in his words as he recalled the memory, not addressing the conversation earlier.

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “We’d call for ‘blanket meetings’ and all….”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m kind of calling for one right now.” He said, pulling away slightly, preparing to hold the blanket over your heads. 

You didn’t need to say anything, you smiled as you grabbed your phone and sat up, adjusting yourself under the blanket as Lance sat up too, the blanket forming a little tent around you two as his head held it in place. It took a little more shuffling around till you both were completely covered and comfortable and it was then when you pulled out your phone, turning on the flash and placing it in between you two so you could see each other. Having done this your whole lives, you two knew exactly what to do. 

“God, the blankets seemed so much bigger when we were kids.” You laughed. 

“The blankets were always big on you, pipsqueak.” Lance laughed.

“Oh, fuck off.” You laughed, “Alright, so why did you call this meeting?” 

“Oooh, professional.” Lance laughed, locking eyes with you as his laugh faded.

“If it’s about our conversation earlier, then I don’t really wanna talk about that, can we just go back to pretending that that never happened?” You asked, eyes averting his.

“No, we can’t. I don’t want to pretend like that didn’t happen, if anything I’m really glad you had your first kiss with me, I’m a much better option than that creep you thought was cute, if anything I was the best option in that whole party.” Lance spoke, voice hushed to match the vibe.

“I mean yeah… Wait, did you just say you were the best option? You know my ex was there too, right? I mean sure we dated after years but we met for the first time at that stupid party.” You recalled, ready to contradict his statement, unsure of what your argument would be considering your ex was awful.

“Yeah, I stand by what I said.” Lance spoke, a determination present in his voice. “You know how I felt about that loser anyways.” 

“Oh please, you never seemed to like any of the exes I have.” You scoffed.

“Like you like any of mine.” Lance scoffed in return, eyes still looking into yours despite your attempts at looking away. 

“I mean-” You tried to defend yourself when he cut you off.

“Oh come on, you know we don’t like any of each other's exes.” Lance persisted.

“I mean yeah, but I don’t like them because I think you deserve better.” You replied, content with your argument.

There was a moment of silence before Lance spoke and in that moment you watched his face as he thought, the way his brows momentarily furrowed and how his brown doe-eyes looked into yours, not breaking contact and making you more nervous than you had anticipated. 

“Well, I thought the same, y'know, I kept comparing them to me and how I’d treat you so much better than those losers.” 

His statement was calculated, and you could tell. It had completely thrown you off and confused you beyond expression, it left you dumbfounded and staring at him with your mouth open to say words you knew didn’t exist. 

“Come onn, You never thought about it? You’re telling me you didn’t think about the kiss all the time after it happened?” He probed, examining your face for a clearer answer.

To be fair, the second Lance had found out the kiss you shared was your first, a whole barrage of feelings and thoughts had bombarded his mind and he had no idea what to do or say, so when you walked off he barely registered what happened and when he did, he decided to resort to old tactics to talk to you and try to comfort you. Admittedly, Lance knew he should have understood that something was up when he realized that he didn’t hate the dating rumors between you two, nor did he hate the proximity you shared, if anything, Lance looked forward to these holiday retreats with your family because it meant you two could live together for a few days and he loved that- he also loved how close you two were and how in all honesty he truly wouldn’t want to date anyone but you. The realization that he had been comparing all his past relationships with you and why they’d never work out wasn’t something he had expected to come to so abruptly, yet here he was, risking everything for a whim. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that to be our last kiss.” Lance smiled, hoping that this last statement would break the silent oath you seemed to have taken. 

He leaned in closer, looking at you for a response, which you gave in the form of a small nod, before he gently landed his lips onto yours, holding your face as the blankets around you readjusted to the movement. His hold was gentle, like he was scared he’d hurt you or something, while your lips clumsily, eventually found a rhythm. 

You were bright red when you two pulled away for air. You mentally cursed yourself for turning the flash on. The prospect of you two being more than friends always seemed like a crazy thought, it always felt like something you felt wrong thinking about, like you weren’t allowed or something. But kudos to Lance for somehow always managing to understand what you two needed faster than you, whether it was making road-trip decisions or Tim Hortons’ order decisions, credit where credit was due, that man could read you like a book. And now he had made it apparent that he was capable of reading in between the lines too. You never knew you had wanted Lance more than a friend and now that the option was brought to your notice, you couldn’t, even for a moment, consider giving it up. The kiss hadn’t lasted long, but it had erupted feelings in you that had laid dormant for far too many years, all of which overwhelmed you enough to not think of your decision again before crashing your lips back onto his, this time allowing your hands to find the back of his head to push him into the kiss, which he enthusiastically reciprocated, his hands landing on your waist to pull your whole body closer. Suddenly, air didn’t seem like much of a necessity as the kiss deepened and you two got more comfortable against each others’ lips. It wasn’t till you two pulled away again, locking gazes as your chests heaved against each other, stupid grins adorning both of your faces. 

“Why didn’t we come to this realization earlier?” You asked.

“I don’t know… I’m just glad we came to it, better late than never no?” He laughed.

Now you didn’t feel so guilty admiring the way his face scrunched up when he laughed and how the skin around his nose crinkled and how you could see the slight gap between his side teeth and his front teeth. There was so much about him that you had mentally noted and admired that seeing him this close didn’t even feel like anything new- it was just Lance after all. 

“I still can’t believe I was your first kiss and we still didn’t do anything up till now.” Lance smiled, his lips parting to show his teeth. 

“I mean, I don’t know I didn’t really understand what I was feeling till now I guess.” You mumbled through a smile, lips barely moving to get the words out.

“I know, I think we’re on the same page.” Lance replied, pulling you in for a hug, the blanket finally beginning to feel warm again. 

“I want you to be my last too.” You laughed, wondering if he’d get the reference. 

“Seriously? You’re quoting one direction right now?” Lance asked, exhaling as he felt your body against him, warming him from the cold he hadn’t even realized he was feeling. 

“Always the right time to quote One Direction.” You laughed, knowing you were the reason he’d secretly be listening to them now. 

“That reference barely made any sense y’know, technically they talk about wanting to be the listeners last first kiss, not their first and last kiss.” He corrected you with a cocky grin you could practically hear.

“Anndd you ruined the moment.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

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A/N: I'm so sorry for posting this so late! completely forgot about it, hope you like it nonetheless<3

Also, no I have no shame throwing in a One Direction reference in like that heh

As usual, criticism and requests can all be sent in through the ask box!

[rhithefella]

Can't wait for the 1.5 sequel where Lance summons Sam's ghost so they can fist fight the collector to get David back so they can yell at him

Collector's POV:

[russellsppttemplates]

Could you do a Lance blurb where reader takes Margot and Addalynn go to see Lance during the testing of the new car for the season and during his run, they see Fernando and he keeps them entertained during Lance's turn to test his car and reader seeing the girls' interaction with the Spanish and starts teasing Lance saying that another one who will spoil them, since the firsts being Lawrence, reader's Dad and Scotty

Cw: reader's pregnant

The calendars had all allowed you and the girls to go to testing, and seeing as it gave you a good opportunity to still spend time together as a family, it was no surprise to see you and your girls on the lounging area while Lance got his laps in.

"Little Strolls, how are you?", Fernando said as he greeted you and the girls, kissing your cheek first and then sitting down and tickling your daughters softly, "I know you just got here, but this little Stroll is also kicking my bladder, do you mind watching them while I use the bathroom?", you asked him, earning a nod before you quickly got up.

When you came back, Margot waved at you, "mummy! Fernando taught us how to say a couple of things in Spanish!", she beamed as she and her sister started telling you all the new words they learnt in their broken accent, "they're very good students, I must admit", Fernando raised his hands, chuckling as the girls pointed to everything and anything in the room so he could translate the words for them.

"What is happening there?", Lance said as he came back inside, catching you by the fridge where they kept the drinks and getting a juice for yourself and one for the girls to split between them, "Fernando is keeping the girls occupied, and it looks like they have yet another man wrapped around their fingers - it's their fifth already!", you shook your head as you laughed.

"Fifth?", you husband inquired, "you, your father, my father, Scotty and now Fernando", you listed, "they really have the world at the tip of their fingers", you joked as Addalynn quesioned the Spanish driver why TV was the same in both languages, "just said with a funny sound", she claimed.

"Wait until the third Stroll little girl joins us, then", he kissed your cheek while rubbing your baby bump, "I feel like they'll wake up one day and decide they want to conquer the team, and they will most likely win at this point", he chuckled, kissing your lips properly and savouring on having you close to him without the girls climbing up on either of you.

"What do you call that?", Margot pointed at you, "that, little Margot, is called love - amor!", Fernando explained.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[pucksandpower]

Heyyyyy how are you? Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. How is medical school hope you're doing good. So I was thinking about the grid kids series and a scenario appeared in my head. So basically the baby still a toddler say a swear word and when asked who taught her that she just tell she heard that from Yuki, but in reality it was the grid kids that braided her with candy. It's just so funny to me

Grid Kids: Potty Mouth

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids help expand their sister’s vocabulary in interesting ways

Series Masterlist

It’s a lazy Saturday morning and you’re making breakfast. Your toddler daughter is happily perched on Sebastian’s lap at the kitchen island, babbling about anything and everything while he nods along seriously.

The grid kids lounge around, still half-asleep. Game night ran late, fueled by one too many Red Bulls and everyone’s chronic competitiveness.

Charles yawns loudly. “I don’t know how she has so much energy already.”

“Right?” Lando grumbles. “It should be illegal to be awake before 10 am on weekends.”

Max stumbles to the coffee maker, nearly tripping over George who’s fallen back asleep on the floor. Mick and Lance are slumped together on the couch, bleary-eyes barely open.

As you finish cooking, you turn to your daughter. “Okay sweetie, breakfast is ready!”

She grins, kicking her little legs excitedly. As Sebastian goes to lift her into the highchair, she suddenly shrieks “FUCK!”

A stunned silence descends on the room. Eight heads swivel towards the little girl, eyes wide. Sebastian and you exchange horrified looks.

“Where did you learn that word?” You ask gently.

She blinks up at you innocently. “Yuki said it!”

The grid kids practically dive over each other to appear shocked and appalled.

“Yuki? Using language like that?” George exclaims.

“How disgraceful!” Max adds. “We’ll be having a stern talking to with him about this.”

You raise an eyebrow at them.

Something seems … off.

Sebastian kneels to your daughter’s level. “Honigbienchen, are you sure Yuki said that? Not one of your brothers?”

She nods vigorously. “Yuki said it when we were playing race cars!”

The boys subtly sigh in relief.

Crisis averted.

Or so they think.

“You know, I don’t recall Yuki having a chance to play with you recently,” you say slowly.

A tense pause.

Sideways glances are exchanged.

The grid kids develop a sudden fascination with the ceiling.

“Alright boys, enough playing dumb. Who taught her the swear word?” Sebastian asks, his Dad Voice™ making them squirm.

“It was Max!”

“It was Charles!”

“It was Lando!”

“It was Lance!”

“It was George!”

“It was Mick!”

They all exclaim in unison, pointing fingers.

A fierce blame game erupts as their bickering intensifies to chaos.

“Enough!” You shout over the noise.

The six drivers fall silent, heads hanging guiltily.

You sigh, lifting your daughter into her highchair. “We’re very disappointed in all of you. You know she’s at the stage where she repeats everything she hears.”

“We’re sorry,” Mick says quietly. “We should have been more responsible.” The others nod, mumbling apologies.

“And we’re sorry we made you say it was Yuki, munchkin,” Lance adds. “We just didn’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Lying makes it worse. But we know you didn’t mean any harm.”

“Tell you what,” you offer. “Whoever teaches her the most educational words this week is forgiven. Good, clean words only!”

The boys’ faces light up. Charles grabs a notepad and they huddle together, beginning to strategize.

You can’t help but smile.

Crisis averted.

***

What follows is a week of mayhem.

“Look Lando, it’s an AARDVARK!” George points excitedly at a cartoon aardvark in a book. “Aardvark starts with A!”

Lando nods seriously. “Aardvark. Aaaaardvark.”

Your daughter claps her little hands. “Aawdvawk!”

The boys high-five. One point for them.

Later, Max drives his toy model RB22 towards her. “Vroom vroom! This is a race car! It has DRS. Can you say drag reduction system?”

She scrunches her nose. “Dwag wedection system!”

“Nice one!” Lance whispers. Max grins, ruffling your daughter’s hair smugly.

At dinner, Charles scans his food. “Mmm, broccoli! This is BROCCOLI!” He holds up a roasted floret. “Can you try and say it?”

“Bwock-lee!” Your daughter squeals through a mouthful of the vegetable. Charles pumps his fist.

Mick doesn’t waste time and pulls out a small globe as soon as she finishes eating, pointing at a certain country. “Look! It’s Germany! That’s where Papa and I come from. Can you say Germany?”

Your daughter scrunches her face in concentration. “Ger...mummy?”

Mick chuckles, “Close enough!”

Sebastian winks at you with a smirk, “Well Mummy sure did conquer Germany, didn’t she?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow, “If by Germany you mean one particularly sexy German driver, then yes, I guess I did.” The grid kids pretend to gag.

Too bad. You’ll take the payback any way you can.

This continues for days. Meal times become vocabulary lessons, walks around the house are accompanied by exaggerated pointing at objects. Books are read with ridiculous enthusiasm, animal noises amplified.

You and Sebastian exchange amused looks as the boys vie for your daughter’s attention, each hoping to teach her the most complex word or phrase. Their efforts have become less about earning forgiveness and more about one-upping each other.

By the end of the week, her vocabulary has expanded exponentially. The boys even taught themselves some new words in the process.

As the boys argue over who should be declared the winner during dinner the following Saturday, Sebastian whistles loudly. “Enough! You all went above and beyond this week with her.”

You smile. “You’re all forgiven. And I think we can thank you for increasing her word bank more in a week than months of normal teaching.”

They cheer, exchanging pleased grins.

You lean down to your daughter’s level. “Now, can we agree no more bad words?”

She nods seriously. “No fuck!”

The room descends into chaos once again.

***

It’s race day and the paddock is hectic as usual. You and Sebastian finally relented and brought your daughter along after weeks of nonstop begging from the grid kids to have their sister on the sideline cheering for them.

As you walk through the pit lane, she squeals and points. “Max! Lando! Chawles! Lance! Mick! Geowge!”

The boys grin, waving enthusiastically as they rush to crowd around her, cooing over how big she’s gotten in the few days they haven’t seen her while she giggles and soaks up the attention.

Nearby, Yuki is chatting with his trainer. Your daughter tugs Sebastian’s hand and skips over to him. “Yuki! Hi Yuki!”

Yuki turns, smiling. “Hi, o-joh-chan! Excited for the race?”

She nods, pigtails bouncing. As Yuki leans down to chat with her, a two-way radio falls off a passing golf cart, narrowly missing his foot.

“Ah shit!” He exclaims before freezing. Your daughter’s eyes go wide. The grid kids stiffen, bracing themselves.

Yuki stares at you and Sebastian in horror, realizing his mistake. “Oops! Uh, I mean ... shoot!”

But it’s too late. A devilish grin spreads across your daughter’s face.

This is her moment.

“SHIT!” She shouts gleefully.

Yuki turns bright red as laughter erupts around him. “I am so sorry!” He sputters. “I didn’t mean to—”

Sebastian just chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we know it was an accident.”

Your daughter is thrilled with this new word she can very clearly enunciate. She spots two team principals across the paddock.

“Chwistian! Shit!” She yells. “Toto! Shiiit!”

Christian trips over his own feet. Toto turns an alarming shade of splotchy red but can’t help laughing. You and Sebastian hurry over, trying to shush her excited swearing.

The grid kids are crying with laughter. Charles is wheezing. “This is even better than I imagined!”

Max high-fives your daughter. “That’s my girl! You tell them!”

You shoot him a warning look and he gives you an innocent grin. Sebastian scoops up your still-cursing daughter, bouncing her gently. “Alright sweetie, I think that’s enough for today.”

Her lip wobbles. “But it’s fun, Papa.”

The boys are zero help, doubled over cackling. Yuki still looks mortified.

Sebastian kisses your daughter’s forehead, stifling a grin. “I know but let’s keep the excitement PG for now, okay? You can say those words when you’re a grown up too.”

You take her little hand, ready to steer her away before she can scar any more eardrums. As you walk off, she peeks over Sebastian’s shoulder and yells one last farewell.

“Bye Yuki! SHIIIT!”

[electricsynthesis]

"You're going back to Earth," Lance insists, unceremoniously shoving the tablet into Keith's lap. He sticks his nose in the air and sniffs with exaggerated superiority. "And I'm incredibly jealous. So let me live vicariously through you, come on."

"By writing a list?" Keith replies, irritated. He picks up the tablet to find open to a notetaking program. He leans back against the plush couch of the lounge in cursory defiance. As if sinking into the fabric will get his teammates to leave him alone. Hardly.

"By writing a list of Earth things," Pidge stresses. She reaches over Lance's lap to pull the stylus out of it's sleeve on the side of the tablet. She holds it out to Keith, big, young eyes uncompromising.

"It's like, team bonding," Hunk says reasonably, eyes smiling even if his mouth isn't. "Besides, have you thought about what you're going to do with your time on Earth?"

"Uh," Keith mutters. "No? I figured I'd figure it out when I got there. I'll be focused on the mission anyway."

Lance cries, "Diplomacy with the Garrison is not going to take you that long--"

Pidge says, "You'd be insane not to do something--"

And Hunk says, "Well, Allura's coming with you." When everyone else falls silent, he raises an eyebrow. "Don't you want to show her some cool Earth stuff? I know she wants to get to know it better--"

"Fine," Keith snarls. He snatches the stylus from Pidge's fingers and scoots himself until he's sitting up. He positions the stylus over the paper, getting ready to write, and then,

uh, and then nothing.

He sits there, mind utterly blank. Like a still pond in there. Not a single breeze of thought. Keith just stares at the empty page, limbs frozen.

"Keith?"

What do I want to do on Earth?

His mind races. Races, and still gets utterly nowhere. Like a stalling car, his brain stutters and buffers and grinds itself nowhere. "I don't know,"

"What?"

"I don't know what I want to do on Earth."

Lance makes an irritated noise. "You're insane. You must miss something about Earth."

Keith does not move.

"Like, what about the food?" Lance cries. "Or the music? Or the clothes? Or TV? Movies? Concerts? Shopping?"

"Yeah," Hunk agrees, "don't you have a favorite Earth food? Something there's no substitute for out here. Something that just," he sighs, a little wistfully, "is so quintessentially Earth that it just..."

Hunk trails off when Keith begins to write. Something's occurred to him, spurred on by Hunk nostalgia for food. Something that is nostalgic to him, but hadn't entered his mind until Hunk said those words...

Keith wants to hide it from them, but Lance is already bullying his way into Keith's personal space to get a good look at the screen. Keith tries to tilt it away, but Lance's hand jerks out and grips it by the side so he can drag it to his face. He gets right up against it, blinking, as if he can't believe what he's reading.

"Pink Monster?" He says, in utter bewilderment.

Pidge gags. Hunk's mouth drops open.

Keith rips the tablet from Lance's fingers and cradles it defensively against his chest. "What?" He says, more snappishly than he intends. Hunk closes his mouth, Pidge covers her's, but Lance's expression blooms into a smile. And then a grin. And then he's laughing.

It starts out as a snicker; a snort. Then it devolves into giggles, and then further into little laughs that he tries and fails to smother with a hand. And then he gives up, and throws his head back and cackles, lips parted and chest shuddering in wild laughter. He smacks his palms to his cheeks loud enough to make Keith flinch.

"Shut the fuck up!" Keith shouts, despite the fact that Lance hasn't actually said anything. His cheeks are warm with embarrassment. "It's good! I like it!"

Lance drags his hands down his face, still laughing. And, he gasps for breath, face twisted into a smile it seems he almost can't help. He laughs through the words, "You gotta," a breath, "you gotta give it to him, Earth is the only, the only place in the galaxy that would invent pink Monster,"

And then Hunk and Pidge are laughing, too, fondly. Keith himself cracks a smile, shame easing into something warmer. Lance shakes his head, regaining control of himself. His cheeks are still flushed, and his eyes still sparkling. Smiling widely, he asks Keith, "Why do you like it?"

"Every 7/11 had it when I was a kid," he shrugs. "So when I'd get tired of the other kids, I'd skip school to go, and I'd always get a monster. Pink is just my favorite. I did it like three times a week."

"Where'd you get the money?" Pidge asks, narrowing her eyes.

Telling her about the time he got sent to juvie for a stolen candy bar, of all things, was a mistake. "I didn't." It wasn't about the candy bar, anyway. And he never got caught with the Monster.

"No wonder you're insane," Lance says. He pokes Keith's temple, which causes Keith to startle back, glaring at him. "It's all the caffeine."

"It make me feel sleepy," Keith defends.

"Caffeine made you sleepy?"

"Yes--!"

"No, yeah, that happens sometimes," Hunk interjects. "It's called an erroneous response and--"

"So is that it?" Pidge says, loud enough to interrupt the brewing lecture. "That's all you want on Earth?"

Keith narrows his eyes in thought. Then, he shrugs. "You think Allura would be down to go to a concert?"

All three of them yell, loud enough to startle the mice awake across the room: YES!