#but I decided to go for maximum damage
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Continuing my ongoing saga of driving myself insane; Do you think there’s a world where Shanks dies and the Red Hair pirates have been decimated through foul play? do you think in that world Mihawk will take up protecting Shanks’ notoriously weak fleet and territories out of some kind of penance.
For what nobody is completely sure, nobody, alive atleast, has laid eyes on Hawkeyes in months. The fleet and territories still fly the red hair Jolly Roger even though there are no more red hair pirates to protect it. But interestingly enough territories ripe for the picking stay untouched and unbothered.
Also Interestingly and completely unrelated, any pirates, marines or even the occasional world government agents, that kick up a little to much trouble a little too close to the territories tend to turn up dead. Heads cleanly separated from their shoulders.
Nobody’s quite sure whose behind it, and the locals swear they’ve never seen nobody, but if a gold crucifix tends to show up planted next to the Red Hair Jolly Rogers, well who’s to say.
#mishanks#this is how Mihawk grieves#with bodies in his wake and blood on his teeth#throwing thoughts to the void#one piece#dracule mihawk#akagami no shanks#Mihawk protecting the red hair pirate grand fleet like Batman protects Gotham#that is by gaslighting people into thinking he’s not#hawkeye mihawk#red hair shanks#akataka#op#one day I will stop torturing myself#today is not that day#there’s a version of this where beck and the crew is till alive#but I decided to go for maximum damage#one piece theory#red hair pirates
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No idea whats happening this season, but I get the sense that this would be the funniest time for Matt to come out as bisexual
#Python starts dating Ty thereby inflicting Maximum Psychological Damage to the Mikes#Not even genuinely dating - they should do it as a bit#Like Python starts talking about how he thinks he might be bi and ends up mentioning Ty#and Mikey assumes he means he likes Ty#And Python gets pissed and decides 'Ya know what? Yeah it's Ty. In fact we're already dating'#Python to Ty 'So listen I may have gotten mad at Mikey and told him we're dating as a prank so like can you go along with it for a few days#Ty already fully committed the second he heard Mikey and Prank 'When is too soon to start planning a wedding?'#anyway. yeah.#woe.begone#w.bg#ty betteridge#w.bg spoilers#sort of
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is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5
#hermes staying domitian’s hand… hermes’ face a flash of discomfort when he was torturing tenax… hmm. character growth.#WHAT WAS THAT HERMES. WHAT WAS THAT LOOK. NO GIRL GET BACK HERE I CANNOT ALSO DO THIS NARRATIVE OF YOU NO LONGER ABLE TO PULL HIM BACK FROM#THE BRINK OF HIS CRUELTY WATCHING HIM CHANGE AND SEEKING OUT SOMEONE ELSE IN HIS NEED AND FEAR AND ANGST. NO BABY GIRLLLL#I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A HERMES POINT OF VIEWWWW OF THE SIX YEARS HE SPENT WATCHING DOMITIAN BLOOMMMM INTO HIS POWER AND CORRUPTTTT because.#correct me if i’m wrong but in that very first scene that was a young hermes in the white right he watched domitian give his speech and saw#his father to truly see him the whole time as hermes has seen his brilliance.#NO I ALSO SAW THAT GUARD’S HEAD FOLLOW HERMES oh i hate it here. you know what i also hate? i need domitian to be successful for tenax#but also i do kinda like titus… NOOOOOO NO KILLING TITUS DOMITIAN I JUST SAID I LIKED HIM!!!! DOMITIAN!!!#oh. ohhhh no. OH NOOOO okay listen we can redeem this. we can have the whole turning point of the narrative be domitian’s mercy of hermes#the ultimate staying of his hand. proving he’s not entirely gone that hermes & his love still means something. do i think this will happen#no absolutely not. before he can kill his brother domitian has to kill the only other living person he loves perhaps more than titus if he#could ever realize it. (a brief interlude to yell LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO HI IRIS) domitian… please spare him… OH WAIT HELLO THE BLOOD!!#ALSO a brief interlude to say i knew it was coming but ELIA’S SPEECH ABOUT LOVING INCITATUS??? I WAS ON THIS INCITATUS SHIT WITH THE LITTLE#NOD THEY HAD WHERE SCORPUS CALLED HIM TO BEAT XENON OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!!! elia’s going to crush him. incitatus won’t listen.#scorpus is going to die twice once when they call elia’s name instead of his and then the second time when the scorpion bites him again#(he kills himself and tenax finds him. sorry to give everyone absolutely maximum damage here but uh. that’s how i can see it going down)#or alternatively worse: after killing titus who at times he loves and hates in equal measure (if y’all don’t think I have some UNHINGED#brothers quotes. we’ll keep mum here about why but suffice to say it is. relevant to other fandoms. and thus i have a Collection) the last#thing domitian has to do is kill hermes. and this one is both out of betrayal but also love because I think somewhere in here titus’ queen#berenice plays a role because domitian’s hatred of the jews probably comes to play a role and I think titus would show up and protect her#like Domitian engineers some kind of a situation where in theory titus could escape alive or beat him but he can’t do that & save berenice#and so of course he saved berenice. or she dies in his arms and he goes mad with grief and any way you put it berenice is the trap & titus#happily crawls into the lion’s mouth to save her for love of her etc and domitian sees him die for it. he gives titus every chance to come#back to him to work with him to be what he wants him to be and he always chooses himself he chooses love and domitian can’t understand even#when it makes him weak. and then he sees hermes dirty and emaciated and still terribly terribly beautiful and feels such a pang of longing#and love that he decides he has to die because he (domitian) cannot be weak. he cannot have any of it. also giving domitian worse paranoia#than he already has because if you kill your brother the one person who should always love you—support you—who can build me a new brother—#you’ve gotta generate some MAJOR issues. namely trust issues. and if he kills hermes they’ll be even worse. so like ideally To Me domitian#wouldn’t kill him but i do very much see the symbolism of cutting off his last earthly tie & desire to ascend to the divine imperial throne#those about to die
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ok hi haha lol I dont rly feel like going in circles in my head forever trying to figure out whether, among other "smaller" things, being left alone in a room w only media as a child and not feeling like I had even a semblance of a personality for most of my life counts as "trauma"
a lot of these parts of me are new, I'm just recently putting names to them and it feels as though I'm developing facets of personalities in my mid 20s after a lifetime of either feeling like I'm basically just ADHD in a person, an amalgamation of kins shoved into a body, or something made of guilt Also shoved into a body.
I don't like, claim to know what this means. but I don't think a lot of my current mutuals would feel comfortable interacting w me bc I don't necessarily believe in the black and white of what plurality is. I'm not able or planning on getting any formal diagnosis and while I'm discussing this w my therapist they're very much not one to pathologize
I definitely don't feel like one person but I dont think id count for most of you as a "system" as the different parts of me feel as though theyre still developing. take all of this as you will, I'm not going to stress my body out more by trying to figure out "what" I am as I've been doing that my whole life and I'm kinda tired of it.
I know that I'm not entirely one thing and feel Enough like multiple things for myself, but blurred in a lot of ways. like some sort of gem with many different facets.
not sure where to go w this tbh take this how you will. im not comfortable saying I'm leaning one way or the other regarding system discourse, (<- not a phrase i want to use but the best shorthand i have) as I genuinely don't believe the human brain is nearly that black and white.
I'm both "me" and very much not "me" at times. idk what this means but ik I'm not comfortable saying im just pandora and im not sure im "allowed" to say im a system and im not sure if it matters, or should matter, regarding friends. im going to be like this regardless, id unfollow me if this grey area im likely to stay in bothers you
if you don't want me refollowing I'd probably block, too, as my memory is bad
#puts this in my drafts to publish at atime to cause maximum damage to my#social circle and mental health bc i LOVE conflict and pain#< A JOKE lmao this has been causing me severe distress for ages so whatever unfollow me idc#outgoing transmission#idk when im gonna publish this ive been going back n forth w my therapist a lot#rhis maybbe repetitive im just uhh tired and have been legitimately driving myself crazy overthis for ages#bc honestly like i didnt exist as a person until age 14 at least and that person#wasnt... me. isn't me they dont exist to me anymore and im not sure#the one before 19 existed either its all fractured#is that trauma?? or is it something else. does that make me endogenic to you?? i really dont know or understand#you can decide for yourself. but im not comfortable saying either way.#i barely feel comfortable existing. i dont exist? as i type this 'i' is wrong but nothing else fits so far#we could go for we and we have befkre bht so far its so nonexistent whats the opposite of i#nothing...? [ ]#some blank. the dilemma is that nothing is real.#these tags are not. genuinly i am fake.#this will get published sometime in a haze and this body will wake up to a disaster.#not enough bridges burned i guess. sure.#back 2 sleep dont send me asks abt this jst block if ur gonna block
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Also just got the text that my ward is partially locked down as a Covid ward again
Except a different ward has been the designated Covid ward for the last few months (so I've had less of a direct insight into numbers)
So either it's just us again
But that seems unlikely because if it was a planned designation as Covid ward they wouldn't have locked down that pod as that's the pod with a less powerful negative pressure ventilation system
Or it's overflow and thus the hospital Covid numbers have the entire other ward as designated Covid and now us as well
#I've decided to be grumpy about it in the morning when I get there#Is this jaded?#Is this world weary?#Tbh I think it's just 'oh look it's this bullshit - I'll do it but Christ alive'#Or however the quote goes#I still love my job and will go above and beyond#But I'll just start it by being performatively grumpy about turning up to work#My posts#My life#Nurblr#Covid nurse#Plageblogging#2024#A lot of the direct issue for hospital flow#Besides sick people and longer hospital stays and yannow multiorgan failure and delerium and brain damage#Is that Covid / flu / RSV etc patients needing high dependency need isolation HDB#Which means working solo#Whereas normally there are 4 HDB patients and 2 HDB nurses and you work as a team#But an iso means a split HDB which means flying solo#With patients you aren't able to leave unattended at all#And also reduces our capacity to maximum 3 HDB bc the iso nurse can only take one#So that immediately backs up the hospital#ED can't push their critically unwell patients to us#ICU can't push down the stepdown patients that aren't yet ward level
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LIONHEART (2/3) – LN4
summary : lando's journey as a dad.
wc : 12k
an : lionheart was supposed to be a 2-parter but i hit the maximum wc for a post so i guess it's gonna have one more part 😭 not the most linear progression and not beta-read !
It had to be some kind of cosmic joke, you thought to yourself, the more you watched your son grow up.
Nine months of carrying him, swollen feet, back pain, cravings, and sleepless nights, only for him to come out as an exact replica of his father.
Had your genes even tried?
Your son was all Lando.
The wild mop of curls that defied gravity, his sun-kissed skin, that cheeky gap-toothed smile, and those bright aquamarine eyes that twinkled with mischief.
His resemblance to your husband was so uncanny that even Cisca, your mother-in-law, couldn’t stop commenting on it.
“It’s like going back in time,” she said one afternoon, watching your son dart around her garden, pretending to race with his toy car. “He’s exactly how Lando was at his age.”
She paused to chuckle. “And just as much of a handful.”
“Oh, don’t remind me,” you replied, sipping your tea with a tired smile. “I think the universe decided one Lando wasn’t enough, so now I’ve got two.”
Cisca patted your hand, laughing softly. “Well, you’re doing a wonderful job. Raising a mini Lando is no small feat, trust me.”
"Speaking of small," you quipped, watching your son determinedly try to drift his bulky toy car, tongue sticking out as he put his weight onto the steering wheel. "He’s just as tiny as his dad was, isn’t he?"
Cisca laughed, the sound warm and familiar as she watched her grandson’s antics. “Oh, absolutely. Lando was always the smallest in his class. It drove him mad. He’d come home every week asking me to measure him, convinced he’d finally grown an inch overnight.”
You snorted, imagining a pint-sized, gap-toothed Lando standing against a wall, demanding to see the ruler. “That sounds about right. Let me guess, he overcompensated by being the loudest kid in the room?”
Cisca nodded with a fond smile. “Loudest and most dramatic,” she added, her eyes twinkling. “He had this knack for turning every little scrape or fall into an Oscar-worthy performance.”
As if on cue, your son’s car lost its balance, and he tumbled to the ground, landing on his side but throwing his arms out dramatically.
“I crashed!” he wailed, flopping onto his back for full effect. “Someone call my pit crew!”
You buried your face in your hands with a groan, trying not to laugh, while Cisca chuckled beside you.
“And there it is. Just like his father.”
Lando chose that exact moment to walk into the garden, a drink in hand, eyebrows raised as he surveyed the scene. “What’s going on here?”
“Your mini-me just reenacted your entire childhood,” you replied, nodding toward your son, who was now lying in the grass, muttering something about needing new tires.
Your son immediately perked up, pointing at his completely intact toy car. “The wheel came off, and the engine’s making weird noises!”
Lando grinned, sauntering over and crouching down next to his son. “Alright, mate, what’s the damage?”
“Hm, sounds serious,” Lando said, nodding solemnly. “We’ll have to get you back in the garage. Can you make it?”
Your son nodded fiercely, throwing his arms around Lando’s neck as he scooped him up effortlessly. Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile.
—
Raising Lando Norris’s mini-me had been a chaotic blend of exhaustion, love, and endless laughter. From the moment your son came into the world, Lando had been there, fumbling his way into fatherhood with all the charm and clumsiness that only he could manage.
The first night at home was chaos.
Your son cried nonstop, his tiny lungs working overtime as the sound echoed through the house.
You were sprawled on the couch, clutching a pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to sanity. Every muscle in your body ached from exhaustion, and you could barely lift your head to look at Lando, who was pacing the living room.
“I’ve got this,” Lando announced confidently, his voice momentarily louder than the wails of your newborn.
He cradled your son in his arms, gently swaying back and forth. “Alright, buddy, what’s wrong? You hungry? Tired? Bored? Yeah, same, honestly.”
“Lando,” you groaned, muffled by the pillow, “he’s a baby, not a pit crew member.”
He ignored you, crouching slightly as he made exaggerated eye contact with your son. “Okay, listen, mate. I need some feedback here. Blink twice if you’re hungry. Cry louder if you’re overtired. Just... give me something to work with.”
Your son, predictably, kept crying, his tiny fists flailing in the air. Lando sighed dramatically. “Tough crowd. Alright, plan B.”
“Plan B?” you asked, lifting the pillow just enough to raise an eyebrow at him.
Without answering, Lando started bouncing lightly on his heels, his voice dropping into a soft hum.
At first, you couldn’t place the tune, but after a moment it hit you- he was humming the McLaren theme tune.
The one he used to play in the car after races, the one that made its way into every highlight reel.
“Are you seriously singing a racing anthem to our newborn?” you asked, your voice half-incredulous, half-amused.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he replied, a teasing grin on his face. “Besides, it’s working.”
You blinked and realized, to your absolute shock, that Leo's cries were starting to fade. His tiny body relaxed slightly in Lando’s arms, the relentless wailing softening into hiccupping sobs.
“No way,” you muttered, sitting up straighter. “Are you some kind of baby whisperer now?”
Lando smirked, still swaying as he hummed softly to Leo. “What can I say? I’ve got a gift,” he said, casting a quick glance your way. “Or maybe it’s destiny. He’s clearly a McLaren fan already. Chip off the old block, huh?”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. “Destiny? You hummed one tune, and now you think he’s a fan for life?”
Lando shot you a playful grin, looking down at Leo, whose cries had softened into sleepy hiccups.
“See this? He’s calm now. That’s McLaren magic, love.” He paused, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “That’s right, little man. Team McLaren all the way. We’re a family of winners.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t let your Uncle Carlos hear you say that. He’ll be over here with Ferrari onesies faster than you can say pit stop.”
Lando laughed, rocking Leo gently as the baby’s eyelids fluttered. “Nah, no way. Right, Leo?” He leaned down, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t let Uncle Carlos fool you. Red’s not your color, mate. Papaya suits you better.”
“Lando,” you groaned, trying not to laugh. “He’s a baby, not a brand ambassador. He doesn’t even know what colors are yet!”
Lando shrugged, grinning as he paced the room. “Doesn’t matter. He’s got taste. I mean, look at him- calm, collected, already understanding the importance of good engineering.”
You finally let out a laugh, unable to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re welcome,” he shot back, shifting his grip to hold the baby closer to his chest. “Seriously, though. I think I’ve found my secret weapon. Next time he cries, I’ll just sing him some F1 radio clips. Maybe a little ‘box, box, box’ to calm him down.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “I can’t believe this. Our baby is going to grow up thinking pit stops are a lullaby.”
“Could be worse,” Lando said with a shrug. “He could think Formula 1 isn’t the best sport in the world. Now that would be tragic.”
“Lando,” you deadpanned, “please don’t turn our child into a walking race encyclopedia before he can even walk.”
“No promises,” he replied cheekily, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead as he finally, miraculously, drifted off to sleep. “But for now, I’ll settle for a good night’s sleep. For all of us.”
You leaned back against the couch, watching Lando as he gently carried your son to the bassinet. He moved carefully, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world—and, of course, he was. As he laid the baby down and tiptoed back to you, his goofy grin made your heart swell.
“See?” he whispered, sliding onto the couch beside you. “I told you I’ve got this.”
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Alright, Dad of the Year. Just don’t forget to get me some water next time.”
He winked. “Coming right up, love. Anything else? Snack? Back massage? Pit crew?”
You threw the pillow at him, but you were laughing too hard to aim properly.
—-
The next night wasn’t much better, Leo seemed to have developed a personal vendetta against sleep, and you were convinced he had some kind of sixth sense that detected the exact moment you closed your eyes. The instant your head hit the pillow, his cries filled the room, pulling you out of the haze of near-sleep.
You groaned, rolling over to see Lando already sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel. He rubbed his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a pit crew strategy.
“I’ll get him,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Stay here.”
But you were already sitting up, determined to share the burden. “No, I’ll go. You did the heavy lifting last night.”
Lando turned, his expression softening despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “Love, you carried Leo for nine months. I’ve got this.”
“You said that last night,” you countered, though your voice lacked the strength to argue properly.
“And I delivered, didn’t I?” he shot back with a teasing grin, standing and heading toward the bassinet before you could protest further.
You flopped back onto the mattress, listening to the soft sounds from nursery next door as Lando picked up your son and began his now-signature routine: the light bouncing, the exaggerated baby talk, and, of course, the humming. This time, the tune wasn’t the McLaren theme, it was his radio message after his first win.
“Let’s gooooo,” he whispered dramatically, his voice soft and playful. “Who’s a little legend? You are. That’s right. Just like Dad, huh? Winning every battle, even the ones against sleep.”
From your spot on the bed, you couldn’t help but smile. His ridiculousness was oddly endearing, and somehow, it worked. The cries began to fade again, replaced by soft hiccups and the occasional sniffle.
Lando returned a few minutes later, cradling your now-snoozing baby with a triumphant expression. “Another successful pit stop,” he declared, easing onto the bed beside you.
“You’re unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head.
“Thank you,” he replied, deadpan, as if you’d just complimented his driving skills.
You sat up, peeking over his shoulder at the peaceful little face nestled against his chest. “You know, if this whole racing thing doesn’t pan out, you might have a future as a baby whisperer.”
He snorted. “Racing will always pan out. But if not, maybe I’ll open a sleep training clinic for newborns. ‘Lando’s Lullabies,’ what do you think?”
You smacked his arm lightly, though you couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “I think you’re delusional from lack of sleep.”
“Probably,” he agreed, leaning his head against yours. “But hey, we’re surviving, right? That’s the real victory.”
You sighed, letting the warmth of his presence wrap around you. “Yeah. We’re surviving.”
“And thriving,” he added, glancing down at the baby. “Well, he’s thriving. We’re hanging by a thread, but that’s what parents do, right?”
“Right,” you murmured, the exhaustion temporarily eclipsed by a deep sense of gratitude. “We’ve got this.”
He grinned, his free arm pulling you close. “That’s the spirit, love. Now, go back to sleep. I’ll stay up a little longer, just in case.”
—-
(A few months later)
The weekend had finally arrived, and with it came a rare sense of relief as Lando’s parents pulled up to the house.
You were sitting on the couch with Leo cradled in your arms, his tiny fists wrapped around your finger.
Lando was sprawled next to you, his head resting on your shoulder, looking just as exhausted as you felt.
The door opened, and Lando's dad, Adam, stepped in first, his face lighting up the moment he saw Leo. “There’s my grandson! Hand him over, I’ve got this,” he said, already reaching out with eager arms.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a hello for us, Adam?”
“Hi, darling,” Adam replied quickly, flashing you a grin before focusing entirely on Leo. “Alright, little man. Granddad’s here. Let’s give your mum and dad a break, yeah?”
Lando’s mom, Cisca, followed closely behind, holding a casserole dish and a tote bag filled with who-knows-what. “And I’m here to make sure this house doesn’t fall apart. You two look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“We haven’t,” Lando said dramatically, sitting up and stretching. “Leo’s been practicing his lung capacity every night. Future Norris athlete in the making.”
“Alright, you two,” Cisca said, setting the bag down and clapping her hands. “You’re officially off duty. Go take a nap, watch a movie, do whatever it is you haven’t had the time to do. We’ve got this.”
“You don’t have to do all this,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. The idea of a nap, an uninterrupted nap, was already making your body ache in anticipation.
“Sweetheart,” Cisca said, her voice softening as she placed a hand on your arm. “This is what family is for. You’re doing an amazing job, but even superheroes need a break. Let us help.”
Cicsa moved away with a smile, already pulling on a pair of cleaning gloves. “Anyway, I’ve raised two boys and managed Adam. This is a piece of cake.”
“Hey!” Adam called over, bouncing Leo gently. “I resent that.”
“You love it,” Cisca shot back with a wink before turning to you. “Now, shoo. “
You hesitated, glancing at Lando. “Are you sure? The house is a mess, and Leo’s been fussy all morning. I don’t want to dump everything on you two.”
“Nonsense,” Adam said, already bouncing Leo gently. “We’ve raised kids before, remember? This is nothing. Go.”
Lando grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You heard them. Free babysitters. Let’s not waste this golden opportunity.”
Cisca rolled her eyes fondly as she started tidying the living room, picking up stray baby toys and discarded blankets. “You two deserve a break. Parenting isn’t easy, and you’ve been doing a wonderful job. But everyone needs help sometimes.”
Reluctantly, you let Lando pull you off the couch, your body protesting every movement. “Okay, but if he gets hungry-”
“I know how to warm a bottle,” Cisca interrupted gently, her voice filled with warmth. “We’ll call you if we need anything. Now go.”
As Lando grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs, you couldn’t help but glance back. Adam was rocking Leo, humming softly, while Cisca was already organizing the clutter in the kitchen.
“They’ve got it,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And we’ve got each other.”
You smiled, leaning into him. “I still feel a little guilty.”
“Don’t,” Lando said firmly, steering you toward the bedroom. “They want to help. And we need this. Just a couple of hours to recharge, yeah?”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the past few sleepless nights begin to fade. “Yeah. You’re right.”
The bedroom was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the sun, the kind of light that made everything feel just a little bit more peaceful.
For once, there was no crying, no laundry to fold, no bottles to sterilize. Downstairs, the gentle hum of Lando’s parents chatting with Leo filled the air, but up here, it was quiet. Blissfully quiet.
You lay sprawled on the bed, your limbs heavy with exhaustion but your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Lando lay beside you, his head propped up on his hand, watching you with a small, soft smile that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in days.
“What?” you asked, your voice a low murmur, too tired to even tease.
He shook his head, his curls falling into his eyes. “Nothing. Just looking at you.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, shifting closer so he could rest his hand lightly on your waist. “But I’m serious. I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
“I’m right here, Lando,” you said softly, though the words felt heavier than you meant them to. You knew what he meant. The chaos of parenthood had left little time for anything else, especially for moments like this.
“No, I mean…” He paused, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your shirt, tracing absent patterns. “I’ve missed us. The way we used to just… be, you know? Before all the crying and nappies and figuring out how to keep a tiny human alive.”
Your throat tightened a little at his words, the weight of guilt creeping in again. “I know. I’ve been so caught up in being a mom that I…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
“That you forgot to just be you?” Lando offered, his voice gentle, no trace of judgment.
You nodded, blinking back the sudden sting in your eyes. “Yeah. That.”
He let out a soft sigh, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were looking at him. His eyes were earnest, filled with that boundless affection that you didn't know what to do with most of the time.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You’re an amazing mom. The best. But before you were Leo’s mom, you were you. The woman I fell in love with. The woman who lights up every room she walks into. And I don’t want you to lose her.”
“I don’t know how to do that, Lando,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I feel like all I am right now is tired and messy and just… not enough.”
His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “You are more than enough. You always have been, and you always will be.”
You tried to look away, the intensity of his words clawing at your throat, but he didn’t let you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “And you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he added, his voice taking on that familiar playful lilt. “Even with the spit-up stains and the messy bun.”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Flatterer.”
“Not flattery. Just facts,” he insisted, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. Then your cheek. Then the tip of your nose. Each kiss was soft and slow, like he was trying to make you believe every word he said.
“Lando…”
“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss was gentle, filled with a warmth that made your chest ache. It was a reminder, a promise, and a thank you all wrapped into one.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for Leo. For everything. For letting me do this life with you.”
Tears prickled at your eyes, but this time they were the good kind. “You don’t have to thank me, Lando. We’re in this together, remember?”
“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But I’m going to thank you anyway. Because you deserve it. And because I don’t say it enough.”
He pulled you closer then, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from every ounce of exhaustion and doubt you carried. For a moment, you let yourself melt into him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“I love you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your hair. “And I love Leo. But I don’t ever want you to forget- you’re more than just a mom, yeah?”
—
The morning light streamed through the curtains, soft and golden, bathing the room in a peaceful glow. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you woke up feeling truly rested.
No cries echoing through the baby monitor, no bleary-eyed stumbles in the middle of the night. Just the warmth of the bed, the sound of birds chirping outside, and the gentle rise and fall of Lando’s chest as he lay beside you.
Your eyes fluttered open, and you turned your head to find him already awake, his curls messy and his face relaxed in a way that made him look impossibly boyish. His eyes met yours, and a slow, lazy grin spread across his lips.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.
“Morning,” you replied, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Did we really just sleep through the night?”
Lando stretched, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. "Looks like it," he whispered. "Feels illegal, honestly. Like we’re breaking some kind of parental code."
You let out a soft laugh, your hand instinctively resting on his chest. “I forgot what it feels like to be this… alive.”
“Same,” he said, his grin turning cheeky. “Although, I don’t think we should waste this newfound energy.”
Before you could reply, Lando leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was warm and slow at first, but quickly deepened into something more heated. His hand slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as his other hand tangled in your hair.
“Lando…” you mumbled against his lips, pulling back slightly. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he trailed kisses down your jaw and back to your mouth. “I’ve just missed kissing you like this. No interruptions, no spit-up, no baby monitor beeping at us..”
His lips captured yours again, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the world narrowing down to the warmth of his body and the way his hand slid up your side. But then reality came crashing back, and you pulled away just enough to mumble, “Lando, my body’s… not ready for anything. You know that, right?”
He pulled back, raising an eyebrow and looking at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Well, obviously. Don’t doubt my research, babe.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Your research?”
“Yes, my research,” he said with mock seriousness, leaning back down to kiss you again. “I’m well-informed, thank you very much. And I know exactly what you need right now- just this.”
He kissed you again, slower this time, his hand cupping your cheek as if to prove his point.
“Just kissing,” he murmured between kisses. “No pressure, no expectations. I just want you.”
You sighed into the kiss, your hands finding their way into his messy curls. It had been so long since you’d felt this close to him, and it was intoxicating. The way he kissed you made you feel like you were the center of his universe, like he couldn’t get enough of you.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice rough.
“Me too,” you admitted, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke again, his voice lighter now. “So… what do you think about getting a cleaner?”
You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “A cleaner?”
“Yeah,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week. Give us a little breathing room with the chores. Time to, you know…” He smirked, leaning in to steal another quick kiss. “Do this more often.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible but practical,” he corrected, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at you properly. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week.“
You bit your lip, considering it. The idea of having some extra help was tempting, but you weren’t sure how you felt about leaving Leo with someone else, even for a few hours.
You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “I don’t know, Lando. I mean, I love being with Leo. I don’t want to miss anything.”
“And you won’t,” he reassured you, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I feel like I should be able to handle everything. Like... isn’t that what moms are supposed to do?" you admitted.
"Hey," he said, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You’re already handling everything. And you’re doing it brilliantly. But there’s no rule that says you have to do it all alone. Asking for help doesn’t make you any less of an amazing mom. It just means you’re human."
His words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "You really think it’s a good idea?"
"I do," he said firmly. "But only if it’s what you want. We’ll make it work either way. I just want to make sure you’re okay, love. That we’re okay.”
“Just think about it. No rush. No pressure. But if it means more mornings like this… it might be worth it.”
He kissed you again, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, your worries momentarily forgotten. For now, all that mattered was this moment, the two of you, together, with nothing else in the world but the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel like you were still the most important thing in his life.
—
After some thought and plenty of conversations, you and Lando finally decided to hire someone.
It wasn’t a full-time helper, just someone to help around the house, take care of the cleaning, and keep things a little more organized.
You still handled all of Leo’s needs together, but the weight of the mess hanging around, making everything feel just a little more overwhelming, was finally lifted.
A few days of the cleaner settling in, things felt noticeably smoother. The house no longer looked like a war zone, and the chaos of being first-time parents seemed a little less overwhelming with the clutter finally under control.
One evening, after you’d finally gotten Leo to sleep and both of you had managed to survive a particularly difficult round of diaper duty, you and Lando flopped onto the couch.
He stretched out dramatically, groaning like he’d just completed a marathon.
“Okay, I don’t care what anyone says. Getting Leo to bed is like running a 5K.” Lando let out a deep sigh, making a show of rubbing his temples as if he’d just solved world peace.
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Oh, please. You’re a Formula 1 driver. Getting a baby to sleep should be a walk in the park compared to dodging crashes and tight corners.”
Lando shot you a side-eye, his lips quirking into a teasing grin. “Pfft. Formula 1 doesn't prepare you for a baby that won’t stop crying. No amount of pit stops will save you from that chaos.”
“True,” you said with a chuckle, snuggling up against him. “But at least we’re not cleaning up a whole pit crew’s worth of mess every two hours anymore.”
Lando kissed the top of your head and sighed in contentment. “Thank God for that.”
—
Lando was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed as he gently held Leo in his arms. The baby’s little hands gripped onto his fingers, his tiny face still a little scrunched in concentration.
You were watching from the couch, feeling a quiet sense of joy as you observed the two of them, when it happened.
Leo, with a little puff of air, let out the tiniest, most uncoordinated gummy smile. It wasn’t much, just a small curve of his lips, but to Lando, it was everything.
Lando froze, eyes wide as his gaze locked onto Leo’s face. He blinked, then blinked again, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
“Did… did he just-” His voice cracked, and before he could finish, tears welled up in his eyes.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “He smiled at me. He smiled.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, watching as Lando’s expression shifted from disbelief to pure adoration. He looked down at Leo, his hand trembling as he brushed a lock of hair away from the baby’s face.
Leo cooed softly, clearly content, and gave him another gummy smile. That was it. Lando completely lost it.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “My son… my son smiled at me.”
Lando cradled Leo in his arms, his gaze fixed on the baby with a mixture of awe and absolute adoration. He swayed back and forth, humming softly under his breath, as though trying to coax some kind of miracle out of his little son.
"Mama’s turn now," Lando said in a voice full of tenderness, walking toward you with Leo facing you. "Smile at Mama, Leo!"
You leaned forward, your hands resting on your knees as you watched Lando’s every move, heart swelling. “You think he’s really going to smile on cue?”
“Just wait,” Lando said with a grin, gently bouncing Leo. "Look at Mama, little man. Show her your big, gummy smile!"
For a moment, there was only the soft sound of Lando’s voice, and then... it happened. Leo’s face scrunched up as he stared up at you with those big, innocent eyes. And then, like a flash of light, his lips curled up in the tiniest, most precious gummy smile.
You felt your heart explode. Without even thinking, you reached a hand to cover your mouth as a soft sob escaped. "Oh my God," you whispered, tears already brimming. "He smiled at me, Lando."
Both of you stared at Leo, the tiny bundle who had no idea he had just performed the greatest act of cuteness in the history of parenthood. He just blinked up at you both, totally clueless, his little hands batting in the air, completely unaware of the emotional chaos he’d triggered.
Lando’s voice was shaky as he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Look at him. He’s perfect. He’s ours. He smiled, love. He smiled!"
You were laughing and crying at the same time, shaking your head in disbelief. "I can’t. This is... too much."
Lando gently shifted Leo so that he was facing you both, as if presenting him to you like the greatest treasure. "See, buddy?" Lando whispered to Leo, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re gonna break hearts with that smile. Just like your mama."
You wiped away a tear, reaching out a hand to gently touch Leo’s tiny foot. "I can’t believe how much I love you two," you said, your voice barely a whisper.
Lando was full-on crying now, unable to contain the tears as he held Leo to his chest again, taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know it was possible to love you more every day,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. “But then... he does that,” he gestured lazily at Leo, “and suddenly I love you both a thousand times more.”
You reached up to gently wipe a tear from his cheek, your hand trembling just slightly. "I know," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I love you both too."
Leo, completely unaware of the full emotional depth of the moment, simply gurgled in his sleep, his hands curling into fists, still smiling in his own little, clueless way.
You laughed softly, your voice still thick with emotion. "He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen."
"Yeah," Lando agreed, his voice still a little raw. "He’s perfect. And he’s ours. I didn’t know I could feel like this,” he said, choking on his words, his voice cracking even more. “I’m so proud. I’m just… so proud of him already.”
You got up from the couch, walking over to where Lando was, a small, amused smile playing on your lips. You kneeled beside him, brushing your hand gently against his arm. “You’re a mess, you know that?”
Lando wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his face flushed with both emotion and embarrassment. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said, looking at you through misty eyes. “This whole dad thing is gonna kill me. I can’t handle it.”
—
Lando was peacefully asleep on the couch, his arm draped lazily over his face, a soft snore escaping his lips as he lay on his back. Leo was nestled against his chest, his tiny hands swiping aimlessly as he slowly woke up, blinking his big eyes in the morning light.
You sat on the edge of the couch, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them. The sight was adorable- Lando, always so composed, now a soft, unguarded mess with your son lying on top of him. You leaned in to scoop Leo up for a cuddle, ready to give Lando a break from baby duty.
But just as you reached down to lift Leo, you froze. Leo’s tiny hand shot out, and in one swift move, he grabbed onto Lando’s nose with both little fists.
You stifled a laugh as Lando remained blissfully unaware, still deep in his sleep. Leo, on the other hand, was gripping his dad's nose like it was the most important thing in the world, his little fingers digging in as if holding onto a treasure.
You leaned over and tried to carefully pry Leo’s hand off his dad’s face, but Leo wasn't having any of it. His grip tightened, and he let out a soft giggle of his own, clearly delighted by his newfound power.
"No way, Leo," you whispered through your giggles. "Let go of Daddy’s nose."
But Leo just grinned and gave an enthusiastic tug, which only made you laugh harder. Lando, still unaware, snored a little louder, completely oblivious to the tiny assault on his nose.
You tried again to pull Leo away, but it was no use. Leo refused to let go. The more you tried, the more Leo seemed to cling to his dad’s nose with newfound determination.
"You little troublemaker," you giggled, your fingers now gently tickling Leo’s side in an attempt to distract him. "Daddy’s gonna wake up with a nose full of baby drool, and you're gonna be the one to blame."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of baby antics, Lando stirred slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, clearly confused as to why he felt a strange sensation on his nose. He looked down, and his gaze immediately landed on Leo, still gripping his nose like it was the most important thing in the world.
Lando blinked a few times, his lips twitching into a smile. "Leo..." he said groggily, his voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing, buddy?"
You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, and you let out a full giggle. "He’s got you, Lando. He won’t let go."
Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at Leo, who was grinning back at him, completely unaware of the trouble he’d caused. "Well, guess I’m stuck with this now, huh?" Lando chuckled, gently moving Leo’s tiny hand from his nose. “I guess I should be flattered.”
You leaned in to kiss Lando on the cheek, still giggling. "You should be. I think Leo just claimed you as his personal jungle gym."
Lando smiled, finally fully awake now, and carefully lifted Leo off his chest, giving him a small kiss on the forehead. "Guess he loves me more than I thought."
"Just wait until he starts grabbing your hair," you teased.
Lando laughed, giving Leo a soft, affectionate squeeze. "I’ll take it. It’s just another part of the adventure."
You watched the two of them, your heart full. “Yeah. Another adventure,” you agreed softly, feeling the warmth of your little family wrap around you.
—
It was one of those rare, quiet afternoons. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room where you sat with Leo cradled in your arms. His tiny body was warm against yours, his head nestled just beneath your chin. You were humming softly, tracing little patterns on his back, lost in your own world.
But Leo? Leo was in his own universe and it revolved entirely around you.
He tilted his head back slightly, his wide, curious eyes locking onto your face like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
His little hands reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek. Every time you moved, even slightly, his gaze followed with a level of intensity that would’ve made a detective jealous.
“Hey there, buddy,” you whispered, smiling down at him. “What’s got you so mesmerized?”
Leo didn’t answer, of course. He just blinked at you, his big, gummy smile spreading across his face like sunshine breaking through clouds.
“Is it the song?” you teased, tilting your head. “Or are you just checking to see if I’m as tired as I feel?”
Lando walked in from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand, and froze when he saw the two of you. “Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice laced with awe. “He’s in love with you.”
You looked up, confused but amused. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at him!” Lando exclaimed, setting the glass down and gesturing dramatically toward Leo. “He’s completely starstruck. Like, I’m his dad, but apparently, you’re Beyoncé or something.”
You laughed softly, glancing back down at Leo. “He’s a baby, Lando. Babies just... stare.”
“Not like this,” Lando countered, crouching beside the couch to get a closer look. He waved a hand in front of Leo’s face, trying to catch his attention, but Leo didn’t even blink. His gaze stayed fixed on you, unwavering.
“See?” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t exist. You’re his whole world.”
“Well,” you said with a sly smile, “can you blame him?”
Lando laughed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Not even a little bit.”
Leo, as if sensing that his dad was stealing your attention, let out a little coo of protest. His tiny hand reached up again, this time gripping a strand of your hair.
“Oh, you’re possessive now, huh?” you teased, gently prying his fingers loose. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
Lando watched the exchange with a grin, shaking his head. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”
Leo giggled at you, a sound so pure and joyful that both you and Lando couldn’t help but laugh along.
“Well,” Lando said, sitting down beside you, “if he’s this obsessed with you now, just wait until he starts talking. First word’s gonna be ‘Mama’ for sure.”
You shrugged, smirking. “I mean, I am pretty great.”
“Understatement of the year,” Lando muttered, leaning in to kiss your temple.
Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his voice full of excitement, as if trying to join the conversation. You looked back down at him, your heart swelling.
“Don’t worry, baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, too.”
Leo responded with another gummy smile, and Lando groaned, clutching his chest.
“I’m gonna die,” he said dramatically. “He’s too cute. You’re too cute. I can’t handle this.”
You laughed, leaning into Lando’s side as the three of you basked in the warmth of the moment, your little family feeling more perfect than ever.
A few hours later and you were lounging on the couch, Leo nestled snugly against your chest. His tiny fingers clung to your shirt, his cheek resting against you as he babbled softly. You were exhausted but content, brushing a hand gently over his downy hair.
Lando appeared in the doorway, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and tousled. He grinned at the sight of the two of you, still where he had left you earlier to go running to get the workout his personal trainer required him. "Alright, mama. Your turn to rest," he said, striding over confidently. "Hand him over."
You chuckled softly, shifting slightly. "I don’t think he’s going to like that."
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando said, reaching for Leo. “Come on, buddy. Let’s give Mama a break. You’ve hogged her long enough.”
But as soon as Lando’s hands gently tried to lift Leo away, your son let out a whiny little wail, clutching at your shirt like his life depended on it. His face scrunched up, and he made a series of dramatic, pitiful noises, burying his head against you.
Lando froze, blinking at Leo in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- what’s this?”
You tried to hold back a laugh, rubbing Leo’s back soothingly. “I told you. He’s a mama’s boy right now.”
“Mama’s boy?” Lando repeated, his tone almost offended. “Leo, mate, you’re killing me here. What happened to our father-son bond? Remember? McLaren lullabies? Matching outfits? No?”
Leo let out another whimper and clung tighter, making it abundantly clear that no, he did not care about any of that right now.
“Unbelievable,” Lando muttered, dropping his hands to his hips. “You’re supposed to be my biggest fan, and you’re ditching me for her?”
“Can you blame him?” you teased, smiling up at Lando. “I mean, I did carry him for nine months. We’ve got history.”
Lando scoffed, sitting on the armrest of the couch, his arms crossed. “Alright, fine. I’ll just sit here and wait until he decides I’m worthy of his time again. No big deal.”
You laughed softly, adjusting Leo slightly so he could peek at his dad. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He loves you. He’s just... clingy today.”
Lando leaned in closer, his face inches from Leo’s. “Hey, buddy,” he said in a mock serious tone. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that? At least give me a smile or something.”
Leo peeked at him, his little mouth forming an ‘O’ as if considering it, but then he tucked his face back into your neck with a happy sigh.
“Wow,” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “Rejected. Completely rejected. I’m never going to recover from this.”
You reached out with your free hand, tugging playfully at Lando’s arm. “Oh, stop. You’ll get your turn when he’s in a dad mood.”
“When’s that gonna be? Next year?” Lando quipped, though his grin gave away that he wasn’t really upset.
You tilted your head, resting it against the couch. “Maybe when he starts talking. He might surprise you and say ‘Dada’ first.”
Lando’s face lit up at the idea, his competitive streak kicking in. “Oh, he better say ‘Dada’ first. Otherwise, I’m taking him to every Grand Prix until he changes his mind.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him fondly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, you love me,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. Then, after a beat, he pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s, earning himself a tiny, curious glance.
“See, Leo?” Lando said, grinning at his son. “I’m not so bad. Maybe next time, you’ll pick Dad, huh?”
Leo cooed softly, his tiny hand reaching out toward Lando’s face as if to placate him, and Lando laughed.
“Alright,” he said, standing back up. “You win this round, little guy. But don’t get too comfortable. Dad’s coming for you.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to Leo’s head as he settled contentedly against you. “I think we’re both lucky to have you, Lando. Even if he’s playing favorites today.”
Lando shot you a cheeky grin. “Damn right you’re lucky. Just wait until tomorrow. I’ll bring out the big guns- he won’t be able to resist.”
“Big guns?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll see,” Lando said cryptically, heading toward the kitchen. “Just you wait, Mama’s boy.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head, as Leo cooed happily in your arms, blissfully unaware of the competition brewing between his parents.
—
The house was unusually quiet that evening, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
You were finishing up the dishes when you noticed Lando sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. His hair was a mess from running his fingers through it, something he only did when he was stressed.
You dried your hands and walked over, sitting beside him.
Leo was already asleep in his crib, giving you both a rare moment of peace, but Lando’s usual lighthearted demeanor was absent.
"Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What’s on your mind?"
He sighed heavily, sitting back and looking at you with tired eyes. "Season’s starting back up soon."
You nodded. "I know. It’s what you love, though. You’ve been itching to get back out there."
"Yeah, I have," he admitted, but his voice was far from excited. "It’s just... different this time."
You tilted your head, encouraging him to continue.
"I don’t want to miss anything," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Leo’s growing so fast already, and what if I miss his first word? Or the first time he crawls? What if he forgets me when I’m gone too much? He’s so little, and I just... I don’t want him to feel like I’m not around."
Your heart broke a little at his words.
Lando was always so confident, but being a dad had softened him in ways you didn’t expect.
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re not going to miss everything, Lando. We’re coming with you, remember?"
"I know," he said, wrapping an arm around you instinctively. "But it’s not the same. You’ll be in the hotel most of the time. I’ll be at the track all day. And then there’s the traveling, the media, the briefings... It’s not like I can just pop in whenever I want."
"You’re doing your best," you reassured him. "And that’s all that matters. Leo’s not going to forget you just because you’re working. He’s going to grow up knowing his dad is chasing his dreams."
"But he’s my dream too," Lando whispered, his voice cracking. "I love racing, but I love you and Leo more. And I don’t want either of you to feel like you’re second to anything."
You sat up and cupped his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Lando Norris, you are an amazing dad and an amazing partner. Racing doesn’t take away from that. If anything, it adds to it. You’re showing Leo what it means to work hard for something you’re passionate about. And no matter how busy things get, you always come back to us. That’s what he’ll remember."
He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he let out another sigh. "You’re way too good at this pep talk thing, you know."
You smiled. "Comes with the territory. Now, instead of worrying, why don’t you focus on the things you can do? Like making sure you get as much time with Leo as possible before you leave for Bahrain."
Lando nodded, his resolve strengthening. "You’re right. I’ll make every second count."
"We’ll be cheering you on," you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Always."
"Love you," he murmured, pulling you into his arms.
"We love you too," you whispered back, knowing that no matter how challenging the season ahead would be, you’d face it together.
—
The door to the hotel room creaked open, and you looked up from the couch where you sat with Leo perched on your lap.
The tension in Lando’s shoulders was evident as he stepped inside, his eyes shadowed with the weight of a race that hadn’t gone his way.
His hair was still damp from a quick post-race shower at the track, hoodie lazily thrown on.
He dropped his bag by the door and leaned against the wall for a moment, rubbing a hand down his face. You could see the frustration in every line of his posture, and your heart ached for him.
“Hey,” you called softly, trying not to wake Leo, who was already babbling quietly as he played with your fingers.
Lando’s eyes found yours, and just like that, some of the tension began to melt away. His gaze shifted to Leo, whose bright aquamarine eyes lit up the moment he saw his dad. Tiny hands waved enthusiastically, and Lando couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, mate,” he murmured, crossing the room to kneel beside you both. “You’ve been good for your mum?”
Leo giggled in response, his baby talk filling the room. Lando reached out to gently tickle his son’s belly, his earlier frustration slowly dissolving into soft chuckles as Leo squirmed and cooed.
“I missed you two,” Lando said quietly, his eyes meeting yours. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, then pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s chubby cheek. “Needed this more than I thought.”
Leo’s babbling grew more excited, and he suddenly clapped his hands before blurting out, “Buh! Buh! Buh! Booooox!”
Both you and Lando froze for a second, staring at each other in disbelief.
“Did he just-”
“Did he just say box box box?” you finished, already starting to laugh.
Lando’s jaw dropped before he burst into a mix of laughter and disbelief. “No way. His first words are box box box! Are you kidding me?!”
You were laughing so hard tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Oh my God, Lando. All that time spent listening to the race engineers is paying off! He’s already a little racer!”
Lando gently scooped Leo up, holding him high in the air as the baby giggled uncontrollably.
“Leo, mate, you’ve got the timing of a legend! First words straight out of a pit wall broadcast. Unbelievable!”
Leo’s babbling continued, his gummy smile stretching wide as he seemed to revel in the attention.
Lando pressed his forehead to Leo’s, his voice filled with affection. “You’re perfect, you know that? Absolute perfection. Even if you’ve cursed me to never hear the end of this from Uncle Max.”
You leaned over to kiss Lando’s cheek, your laughter settling into a warm smile. “Well, at least we know he’s paying attention during the races.”
Lando turned to look at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “You two make everything better, you know that? Worst race of my life, and here I am, happier than ever because of this little guy and his genius first words.”
“Buh-buh-buh!” Leo squealed again, reaching out to grab Lando’s nose.
“Yeah, yeah, box box box, I hear you, mate,” Lando said, his voice thick with laughter and adoration.
—
The moment came out of nowhere, as so many milestones do.
You were finishing up your nighttime skincare routine while Lando sat on the floor, trying to coax Leo to take a step.
Leo stood wobbling on his chubby little legs, his hands stretched out in front of him for balance.
“Come on, mate,” Lando encouraged, holding his arms out. “One step. Just one! You’ve got this.”
You looked up, a soft smile playing on your lips. “He’s been teasing you with this for weeks, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t jinx it!” Lando shot back with a grin, his eyes glued to Leo.
Leo’s face was scrunched in determination, his tongue poking out as if it helped his balance. Then, with the tiniest of shuffles, he lifted one foot and took a step.
“YES!” Lando’s shout nearly startled the poor baby into toppling over, but Leo took another step toward his dad, and then another, his arms swinging wildly for balance.
You gasped, nearly dropping the serum you were holding. “Oh my God, he’s doing it!”
Leo stumbled into Lando’s arms, laughing triumphantly as his dad scooped him up and spun him around. “That’s my boy! First steps! Did you see that, babe? He’s a natural.”
You were on your feet in an instant, rushing over to join them. “I saw it! Our little walker!”
Leo’s giggles turned into a proud little babble as Lando kissed the top of his head, his own grin so wide it looked like it might split his face.
Over the next few days, Leo was unstoppable. His clumsy little walk turned into a full-on mission to copy everything you and Lando did. If Lando was stretching, Leo mimicked him, though his version mostly involved falling over. When you bent down to pick something up, Leo would squat and then sit on his bottom like it was the same thing.
“Look at him!” Lando said one afternoon, watching as Leo tried to copy his dad tying his sneakers. “He’s like a little shadow. A very uncoordinated, very adorable shadow.”
Leo looked up at his dad with wide eyes, then toddled over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s leg, babbling nonsense.
“Aw, buddy, you’re killing me here,” Lando said, scooping him up. “You’re too cute. I can’t handle it.”
—
The sound of the private jet’s engines starting up hummed softly beneath your feet as you held Leo in your arms, walking down the narrow aisle towards the seats.
You could feel his tiny hand gripping your finger as you set him down on his feet, his little body still a bit unsteady as he tried to mimic your movements.
It was one of those moments that felt like time slowed down, as Leo tried to take a few wobbly steps toward Lando, who was already settled in his seat, grinning widely at his son.
“Come on, little man,” Lando called out, his voice light with amusement. “You can do it. Show mama how it’s done.”
You smiled at him, your heart swelling as you watched Leo try to imitate Lando’s movements, his knees wobbling slightly as he took another hesitant step forward.
The jet's gentle swaying seemed to make it harder, but Leo was determined. With every step he took, his little face lit up with the biggest grin, his wide eyes sparkling like he was proud of himself for trying.
“You’re a natural, Leo,” you said softly, helping him balance with your hand on his back. “Just like your dad.”
Leo looked up at you then, his smile widening before he reached for you.
He babbled excitedly, his voice higher-pitched and full of joy, and you laughed as you scooped him up, feeling his small arms wrap around your neck in a tight hug.
He was practically vibrating with happiness. You couldn’t help but melt into the feeling, his love so pure and contagious that it left you breathless.
“He really loves you,” Lando said with a grin, watching as Leo snuggled into your arms. “I think you might be his favorite.”
“Of course, I am,” you teased, pressing a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “He knows who takes care of him when he needs snacks, cuddles, and all the kisses.”
Leo giggled, his baby talk coming out in a string of adorable babbles as he snuggled closer to you. “Mama!” he squealed, his little voice bouncing off the walls of the plane, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.
“That’s right, buddy,” you whispered, looking at Lando with a playful smirk. “Mama’s got you.”
Lando laughed softly, clearly charmed by the scene.
You gently bounced Leo on your hip as you made your way to the seats. “It’s alright, babe. You’re still my number one, even if Leo’s stealing all the attention.”
Leo, sensing that he was the center of it all, let out a cheerful little giggle, reaching for Lando as if asking for his dad to hold him too.
“Okay, okay,” Lando laughed, scooting over and extending his arms. “You’ve made your point, little man.”
You handed Leo to Lando, watching as the two of them shared a moment. Leo rested his tiny head against his dad’s chest as Lando sat back in his seat, humming a soft tune to calm him down.
—
When Leo was still barely a year old, you and Lando found yourselves having the same conversation over and over.
You didn’t know if Leo would end up following in Lando’s footsteps or if he’d develop his own passions, but you both agreed that it was important to plan for his future- just in case.
Sitting together in the living room, watching Leo take wobbly steps across the floor, Lando turned to you with a smile. “I know we’re still a long way off, but... have you thought about what kind of school we want for Leo?”
You shrugged, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair from Leo’s forehead.
“It’s hard to say, isn’t it? He’s barely one, but I’ve been thinking about it too. I guess we can’t decide now, but I think it’s smart to start planning. I mean, who knows what his interests will be?”
Lando nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. He might not be into racing, or even sports. But I can’t help but think about the possibility of him wanting to do something like I did. I don’t want to push him, but...” His voice trailed off as he watched Leo take another shaky step.
“I know,” you said softly, smiling as Leo giggled and reached for you. “It’s hard not to think about it. I just want him to have the freedom to choose what he loves, even if that’s not racing.”
Lando’s expression softened. “Of course. But what if he does? I want to make sure he has options, you know? Like, if he’s into it, I’d love for him to have that foundation. But if he’s not... then I don’t want him to feel forced into it.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing how much racing meant to him. “I get it. It’s not just about racing, though. It’s about having choices. I think we should focus on giving him a well-rounded education, one that could adapt to whatever he wants to do. But I also think it’s important to keep in mind how we’ll handle it if he does decide to race, just in case.”
Lando sighed, watching Leo playfully crawl towards his toy car. “Yeah. Maybe we should start looking into schools that would allow for flexibility. That way, if he does want to race, it won’t interfere too much with his education.”
“Yeah,” you said, watching Leo’s face light up as he grabbed his toy and started pushing it across the floor. “And if he doesn’t want to race, we’ll make sure he has every opportunity to explore whatever else he’s passionate about.”
Lando grinned. “Whatever he ends up doing, I’ll be proud. Just... as long as he doesn’t bring me another toy car to fix. That’s my job.”
You laughed, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “I think he might just follow in your footsteps on that one.”
“Maybe. But for now, we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” Lando took your hand and squeezed it.
—
As you stepped into the paddock, Leo securely tucked in Lando’s arms, you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s attention turned to your little boy.
His bright orange McLaren headphones looked comically large on his head, his curls bouncing with every slight movement.
Despite the overwhelming sights and sounds, Leo’s aquamarine eyes darted around, wide with curiosity.
“Alright, little man,” Lando murmured, adjusting Leo’s jacket, complete with a tiny McLaren logo stitched on the chest. “This is where Dad works. Cool, right? Your dad’s a bit of a big deal here.”
You smirked as you walked beside them. “He’s modest too. Make sure you learn that, Leo.”
Lando turned to you, raising a brow. “What can I say? He should know the truth.” Then, looking at Leo, he grinned. “We’ll save the really cool stuff for when you can talk.”
One of the engineers wandered over, grinning. “Well, well, if it isn’t our new recruit. Welcome, Leo. Hope you’re ready to carry the team.”
Leo giggled at the commotion, clumsily reaching out toward the engineer’s shiny name badge.
“Watch out,” you warned, leaning away. “If it’s shiny, he’s going to grab it.”
“Just like his dad and a trophy,” the engineer quipped, dodging Leo’s little hands.
Leo’s delighted squeals made the whole team stop and stare for a moment, their smiles softening as he wriggled excitedly, his tiny hands grabbing at the air as if trying to reach for the brightly colored McLaren car parked nearby.
One of the mechanics leaned in with a smile, handing Leo a miniature wrench.
“For the next pit stop,” the mechanic joked. “Gotta train ‘em young!”
Leo grabbed the wrench with a look of awe, his gummy smile lighting up the entire garage.
“Careful,” Lando said, laughing. “You give him that, and he’s going to think he’s part of the crew.”
“Isn’t he already?” the team’s PR manager chimed in, snapping a photo of Lando and Leo. “This might be our cutest team member yet.”
“I’m telling you,” Lando said, looking around. “This kid’s already got star power. I give it, what, two years before Zak offers him a contract?”
“Let’s aim for potty training first,” you teased, running a hand through Leo’s curls. “Then he can talk strategy.”
Zak wandered over at that moment, his gaze flicking from Leo to Lando. “He’s stealing the show already, isn’t he?”
“Obviously,” Lando said, grinning. “Look at him! He’s got the McLaren spirit.”
Leo babbled loudly, throwing his arms in the air as if he were agreeing. Everyone laughed, and Lando looked at you, his expression softening for just a moment.
“You sure he’s not overwhelmed?” he asked quietly, his voice just for you.
You smiled, resting a hand on his arm. “He’s fine. He’s curious, just like someone else I know.”
Leo, now grabbing at the zipper on Lando’s race suit, interrupted the moment with a loud, joyful squeal.
“Alright, alright,” Lando said, laughing as he adjusted Leo. “You’re the boss, mate.”
After Lando handed Leo back to you, his bright orange headphones still perched comically on his tiny head, he knelt to Leo’s level one last time before heading to the car.
“Alright, buddy,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Leo’s curls. “Daddy’s going to go really fast now, okay? Cheer for me.”
Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his little hands reaching out to pat Lando’s face. Lando chuckled, leaning into the touch as if it were the best encouragement he could get.
“See? He already knows I’m winning,” Lando joked, standing and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Take care of my little number one fan.”
“We’ll be cheering from the best seats in the house,” you assured him, adjusting Leo on your hip. “Go make us proud.”
As Lando disappeared into the chaos of the garage, you carried Leo to the viewing area, a private box where you could watch the race without overwhelming him. The hum of engines roaring to life filled the air, and Leo’s eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight of the cars pulling out onto the track.
“Look, Leo,” you cooed, pointing toward the screen showing Lando’s car. “There’s Daddy. See the orange car? That’s him.”
Leo squirmed excitedly in your arms, babbling in response as if he understood. His tiny fists waved in the air, his gaze locked on the screen.
As the race began, you couldn’t help but glance between the screen and your son. His fascination was evident, his aquamarine eyes following the cars as they sped around the track.
Occasionally, he’d let out a squeal, clapping his hands together, and it made your heart swell.
“Is Daddy fast?” you asked playfully.
Leo responded with a delighted giggle, his curls bouncing as he nodded. Whether it was intentional or just random excitement, you weren’t sure, but it made you laugh anyway.
When Lando pulled off a daring overtake, you clapped softly, careful not to startle Leo. “See that, little man? That’s Daddy being awesome.”
Leo responded by slapping his chubby hands against your chest and squealing, his energy contagious.
By the time the race ended, Lando had finished in a respectable position—maybe not a podium, but enough to make you proud. As he approached the garage for post-race celebrations and interviews, you and Leo made your way down to meet him.
The moment Lando stepped into view, sweaty and slightly disheveled but glowing with the post-race adrenaline, Leo practically launched himself toward him, wiggling in your arms and reaching out.
“Alright, alright, mate!” Lando said, laughing as he took Leo from you, holding him close. “You watched me, huh? Did you see how cool I was?”
Leo responded with a string of babbles, his hands patting Lando’s cheeks and tugging at his race suit zipper again.
“He was your biggest fan,” you said, smiling at the sight of the two of them.
“Best fan I’ll ever have,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to Leo’s forehead before looking at you. “And my second best fan is pretty great, too.”
“Oh, I’m second now?” you teased, arching a brow.
“Technically tied,” Lando corrected with a grin, leaning in to kiss you briefly. “Best race ever. Thanks to you two.”
—
It was a sunny afternoon when Adam and Cisca arrived for their visit, the house buzzing with excitement as Leo toddled around, his tiny feet barely keeping up with his boundless energy.
You had been waiting for this moment, knowing how much both Lando’s parents were eager to hear their grandson say his first words to them.
“Cisca, Adam, we’ve been working on something special with Leo,” you said, a playful grin on your face. “I think he’s finally ready to impress you both.”
Cisca, who was sitting on the couch with Adam, leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, don’t tease us. What’s he going to do?”
You gave a small nod toward Leo, who was currently playing with his favorite toy car, completely oblivious to the attention he was about to receive.
Lando was beside him, giving a little encouragement.
“Leo,” Lando said softly, “can you say ‘Grandma’?”
For a moment, Leo just looked up at him, his big aquamarine eyes blinking as if he was deciding whether to humor his dad. Then, in a clear, albeit babyish voice, he uttered, “G-g-gra-ma!”
The room fell silent for a split second, before Cisca gasped and clapped her hands.
“He said it! He really said it!” Her eyes were wide with excitement, and she immediately reached for Leo, pulling him into her arms as she showered him with kisses.
Adam laughed, his arms crossed as he watched Cisca fawn over Leo. “Well, it looks like we have a new favorite around here.”
Cisca, still holding Leo, smiled warmly. “He’s a natural,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Lando grinned, clearly proud, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, buddy. Let’s see if you can do ‘Grandpa’ now.”
Leo’s face lit up at the challenge, and he looked up at Lando with a wide grin. “G-g-pa!” he said, a little clearer this time, as though he’d been practicing in secret.
Cisca and Adam both looked at each other in amazement before bursting into laughter. “He did it!”
You couldn’t help but smile, watching your son, so small yet already full of surprises.
Lando, beaming, scooped Leo into his arms, lifting him high in the air. “Good job, mate! You’re already a hit with the grandparents.”
As you all laughed and celebrated, you felt a warm sense of joy, knowing that these small moments were just the beginning.
Leo was growing up so quickly, and every new word was another step toward the amazing little person he was becoming.
And if there was any doubt that he was Lando’s son, it was quickly erased with that second, clearer “Grandpa.”
—
It was Lando’s home race, and the atmosphere was electric. The streets around the circuit buzzed with excitement as fans poured in to cheer on their favorite driver.
You, Lando, and Leo were all geared up for a day of racing, but there was an undeniable sense of extra energy in the air today.
It was Lando's moment to shine in front of his hometown crowd.
You had decided to bring Leo along for his first true race day experience, and the little one couldn’t contain his excitement.
He had been bouncing around the house all morning, his energy matching the anticipation in the air
“Ready for the madness?” Lando asked, his fingers tapping on the wheel as he drove toward the circuit.
“Is there ever a dull moment at one of your races?” you teased, glancing at Leo, who was already staring out the window, wide-eyed at the massive crowds beginning to form outside.
“Look, Daddy!” Leo exclaimed, his voice full of wonder. “People!”
Lando chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s hair. “Yeah, buddy, those people are here to watch a race. They love the sport almost as much as we do.”
Lando slowed a little to let Leo get a better look at the fans, many of whom had spotted him by now.
A small wave of recognition rippled through the crowd, and people began holding up signs, taking photos, and cheering even louder.
Lando chuckled, glancing at Leo. “Look at him, he’s already soaking it all in. He’s going to be waving at people the whole time.”
Sure enough, as you drove past the crowds lining the track, Leo pressed his face against the window and started waving enthusiastically at the fans.
“Hi! Hi, people!” he called out, his little arm flailing in the air like he was trying to reach everyone at once.
Lando laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Just like me when I was his age, huh?”
You smiled, watching Leo’s excitement grow as the car neared the grid.
“He’s got your energy, that’s for sure,” you agreed, though Leo’s cheeky smile had hints of you, too.
Leo, still oblivious to the significance of the day, continued to wave back happily, as if the attention was the most natural thing in the world.
The moment was adorable, and it didn’t take long for the whole world to start catching on.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out quickly, only to be greeted with a flood of notifications.
Your heart skipped a beat as you read the messages from friends and family, all the while still hearing Leo’s happy babbling in the back seat.
The trending hashtag was unmistakable: #LeoNorrisOnTheGrid.
It seemed that most fans, spotting Leo, immediately started recording, posting videos of the excited toddler waving at everyone. Within minutes, the clips had gone viral.
On Twitter, hashtags like #LeoNorris and #MiniLando had started trending in minutes.
Fans were going crazy over how much Leo looked like his father, and how adorable he was interacting with the crowd. Some even joked about how Leo was stealing the spotlight from Lando.
"I swear, this kid's got his own fan club already," you said, laughing as you scrolled through the posts and videos that were rapidly gaining likes and retweets.
Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing at the screen before shaking his head, amused. “Well, I’m not surprised. He’s got that Norris charm.”
As you all made your way to the grid, the excitement continued to build. Leo, blissfully unaware of the frenzy he’d caused online, continued to wave at the fans, his little face lit up with pure joy. You leaned over to Lando, whispering, “He’s definitely got your spirit, that’s for sure.”
“Guess he’s a natural,” Lando said with a grin, his tone light but his pride obvious. “But I’m not sure how I feel about all those people already talking about him taking my seat one day.”
You laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Don’t worry, Lando. He’s still got a lot of growing to do before that happens.”
Leo’s excited voice interrupted the moment. “Daddy race now! Go, go, go!” He was bouncing in his seat, eager for his dad to get to the track.
As you made your way toward the grid, Lando leaned in to kiss your forehead.
“Thanks for being here with me today,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “It means the world to have you both here, especially today.”
With Leo tugging on his hand, eager to explore, you smiled, feeling the love and joy that filled the air.
“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you replied, knowing that this day, this moment, was something you’d all treasure forever.
#x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 x you#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x you
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Ah. Fuck. OH FUCK
OH FUCKKKK
W-wait hold on a second wait hold on wai
This???
Cutting to this???
OH THIS HURTS
I wanted to make something quick today with another song with both Ratchet/Deadlock and Blurr/Shockwave but cards turned upside down *lays down*
@keferon *cough-cough*
#oh this hurts so fucking baddddd#where's my ibuprofen#i need to swim in it#the way you make this coloring contrast between demon Shockwave and knight Shockwave is uuuuhhhmmm🤌🤌🤌#the shiny warm gold against the grayish purple#well#I'm watching from a phone with 2% brightness so I'm not entirely sure if it's purple ahaha BUT STILL#The themes!#Warm and bright versus dark and desperate#also#you took the concept of Shockwave having wings and decided to deal the maximum amount of brain damage with it#I can respect that#I am living for that#and also for the composition of the first and the last scene#i don't even know what to say SOMETHING IN THEM gives me chills#when I made this au it was haha fun#because I originally headed towards much lighter tone#Blurr and Shockwave were supposed to be doing some epic magic demon stuff together while also flirting/threatening each other#you know#like these stories about summoning demons usually go#but then it turned into the kind of fun that makes you feel like a wet forgotten french fry drying on the floor on the middle of the night#i have no fucking control over this#Shockwave is such a tragic character someone help me#I love it i love it so damn much#animatic I mean haha#spellbound au#tapas spellbound au
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so, i see all these aus where danny gets help from the justice league for the anti ecto acts, and they're great. but hear me out. ghost king danny. classic setup, acts need to be repealed or war.
so danny goes to the league, of course.
the league of assassins.
Ra's is already familiar with death, and ghosts, and the realms. ya man's had the lazarus pits for centuries, he knows a little bit of what's what. maybe there's already some trade relations going on. more importantly, he has a massive group of hyper competent people who can pull strings in the government very stealthily, and have no outside affiliation or loyalty to that government.
but why not the JL? most of them are based in the USA. they work with the government (danny assumes). surely they are aware of the Acts. surely they would conform to them, enforce them.
so ghost king danny meets with ra's, who gives rancid vibes, but is able to, and wants to, do a smear campaign against the JL. against the USA. to gain favor with the guy who is the king of his most sacred resource, and knowledge about how to use the Pits to gain some basic liminal powers.
danny doesn't like the solution, exactly. but he's king. and this is what will protect his people. this is what will get expedient results. this is what his advisors who will still permit peace will allow.
so danny takes the deal with Ra's.
the initial outrage begins online, perhaps through MikMok. a mega famous influencer is cosplaying as superman, doing a twerking sort of dance to the most current haha funni meme song. the text overlay reads: when the superheroes condone genocide because they aren't human, ANTI-ECTO ACTS (whatever law/section code they were passed in).
it goes viral. and then someone finds the Acts (prodded along by the League) and it goes from a hit sensation online to every. single. news outlet flooding with information (puppeted by the League).
is this real? the Acts are real. but why? if these people(?) don't exist, why the Acts? the outrage. the mass confusion. the conspiracies. the new subgeddits and trending xitter tags. 4kun greentext be me: a ghost, becomes the new thing.
at this point, the GIW are scrambling to keep their involvment on the downlow. there are acts, sure, but they're not enforced :DDDD
vlad is in a similar situation. he cloned a guy. he def experimented on other ghosts to get to that level of knowledge. naturally, this is about when lex luthor gets involved. because, wouldn't you know it, but project CADMUS? yeah. that was a collab with DalvCo. they both wanted non-human clones from green stuff. they got it, and now luthor's sitting on some unpretty information.
he promptly shoves vlad under the bus, which is rapidly becoming less of a bus and more a trainwreck.
the league is surprised this happened, but goes with it.
the US governemnt is still trying to deny, deny, deny.
it's at this point that the JL gets themselves together. they don't know if the papers by Drs fenton are biased, or if ecto entities really are mindless creatures bent on destruction.
constantine says they're biased. green lantern concurs.
they decide to summon an ecto entity and find out what is going on.
danny is pretty stressed. it's a stressful situation. he's on break for the first time since they got a solution to this problem. he's not gonna answer a summoning. he has people to do that for him.
so they don't get the ghost king.
but they do get-
dani. and jazz. at the same time.
maximum possible psychic damage.
in the room at the watchtower is the big 3, green lantern, martian manhunter, flash, constantine, zatanna, raven, and black canary (legends of tomorrow experience? cool headed? there for arrow who is busy?).
dani doesn't like superman. he treats clones badly. jazz doesn't like batman, see Arkham.
dani doesn't know who c, z, raven, or bc are. jazz kinda knows of them, but not well.
so the actual negotiations go down with WW and MM.
they have a lot of questions. dani (abomination form) introduces jazz (basic looking human) as a princess of the realms. jazz says that the Acts are real, the realms want war, go suck a creamsickle (that was dani), they want restitution for the lives lost from the GIW.
then they leave the JL wondering who the GIW are.
someone (LoA) manages to hack the watchtower and post the meeting online as soon as it happens. or maybe they livestreamed it on Switch.
my spamblr, the result of my space buying tumblr in 1999, gains its first sexy women (jazz). jazz/WW fiction springs up on AOL3 overnight.
the GIW goes public. they try to push the envelop of ghosts being non-sentient. they try to use jazz being ambassador for that meeting to help their case. the JL is fighting accuations, but they are being pidgeon holed into siding with the GIW by the media.
it's at this point that things go from trainwreck to airplane runway crash.
dalvco and luthor are in a lawsuit. the usgov is under pressure from everyone. people are calling for impeachment of the president. the GIW is getting raided and having their evil posted online. the drs fentons are absent (in the ghost zone, either being evil or having mimosas with pandora). ra's is trying to use new knowledge of the Pits to reanimate tim's spleen. the JL is under constant fire. everyone who has ever had a malicious opinion about super or meta control is getting new platforms. danny can't use his intimate knowledge of what's going on to write his essays for school.
the world is galvanized. there are calls to action. liminals of Amity Prak come forward. you could be liminal too! the Acts get repealed. the GIW gets cleaned out, all prisoners rescued. the realms get restituition. the meta protection acts get expanded.
people will learn about phantom, the superhero. the dead boy who saved them all when the JL didn't answer amity's calls. the JL comes under more fire. they lose funding, defund the police style. for maximum chaos, this can be when the miraculous ladybug crossover starts.
phantom gets a bajillion features on true crime podcasts. tucker keeps sending links to the episodes to them. sam will never admit it, but she listens to them.
but things will never, ever be the same. arguably it's a bad end. but...
black canary restructures arkham from what jazz said to batman in that meeting. many of the rogues get actual help. the joker is transfered to a supermax. he never escapes again. nightwing takes the discowing costume back up in celebration.
vlad loses the lawsuit, and uses his powers to get one over on luthor, who has a mind control suggestion implanted to (amongst other things) never be able to work on these projects again.
there is greater transparancy in superhero work. this makes some people start social programs for villians who have a point. it works for a few of them. the JL is cleared up to handle more extraterrestriel threats, not leaving the burden on one person alone in the cities. the child sidekicks have less work.
amanda waller is fired. ironically, she had nothing to do with any of this, but people assume that she did. either way, everyone agrees it's deserved.
the league of assassins makes a lot of money. they get hired a lot in turbulent times.
disney, which is utterly unchanged in this dimension, makes a documentary about everything. they get dani in for an interview. it's in very bad taste. there is at least one death pun and CGI'd animal.
danny graduates.
clockwork smiles.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#writing#my idea#dc#batman#league of assassins au#my writing
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Yes, two fully grown adults can go trick or treating in silly halloween costumes, thank you very much.
What wasn't okay however, was that Charles was walking around SHIRTLESS in a fucking SKIRT.
Part of my Halloween event!
Warnings: blood, smut, sub Charles, the inherent eroticism of men covered in their own blood, minor injury, temperature play
Also real ones will get the very obvious reference to another popular fic of mine lmao
He'd jumped at the idea of going trick or treating with you, after all, you two didn't get to spend much time together between races, and he loved candy.
BUT, Charles had decided to dig out his old Prema Gladiator costume (yeah, you know the one) and the top part didn't fit anymore because of how much more muscle he'd got since those days.
So there he fucking stood, in all his oiled up glory, looking like a whore!
He knew exactly what he was doing as well, every time you rang a doorbell he would flex his abs to give the ‘maximum effect’, as he put it.
So to say you were riled up was an understatement.
On one hand, you got to ogle your almost naked boyfriend as much as you liked, but on the other, so did everybody else.
You were a goddess next to him, literally because you were dressed up as a goddess, but you had chosen a dress that didn't show off too much specifically because you knew Charles would get insanely jealous.
Yeah, you might as well have dressed as Bobo the fucking clown.
He was driving you insane in two different ways.
First off he was making you angry, because he was flexing and lowkey flirting on purpose to make you mad.
But the problem was that he was also making you incredibly horny.
His thick thighs wrapped in that thin faux-leather skirt, his oiled up (why the fuck did he oil himself up??) torso on display, his nipples peaking from the cold air of the night.
You were going to lose it before the end of the night, you were certain.
But apart from your inner turmoil, your evening was going great.
Even little kids were giving you candy from their baskets, because they thought you two looked so cool.
“I'm going to kill you when we get home” you said as you wrapped an arm around his waist.
He chuckled “And why is that, love of my life?”
Yeah, he was laying it on thick now, the bastard.
“Because I had to dress modestly to protect your ego and you decided to dress like a whole slut, baby”
He grinned at you, poking your side playfully.
“You are just jealous that the last woman asked for my number, in front of you”
“Okay, I'm going to go back and say yes to her, then”
You gasped mockingly “I am not.”
He suddenly turned around and started walking back in the direction of where you'd just come from.
“Don’t you dare!” you laughed, as you ran after him.
He was quicker though and he sprinted down the road as you struggled to keep up.
“I'll see you later, I guess. I don't know what time I will be home!” he called back, turning his head to laugh at your slower pace.
“Charles Leclerc, you come back here!”
It was a lot of fun bantering and running around like children again.
Until disaster struck.
He hadn't been looking where he was going as he ran around, baiting you into chasing him.
And, well, there's no way of saying this that isn't objectively hilarious.
Charles Leclerc, world famous formula 1 driver, man of immeasurable dexterity and coordination, ran face first into a telephone pole.
You thought he was joking at first, trying to be funny or something as he clutched his face.
But as you caught up you saw blood and immediately worried over him.
He was hunched over so you pulled his hands away to inspect the damage.
Blood was pouring out of his nose and, somehow, he'd also managed to bust his lip. Nothing too serious.
“Are you okay, baby?” you said, just a hint of mocking in your voice.
He pouted, then hissed in pain as he realised that was not a good idea with a busted lip.
“Do I look okay?” he asked.
You almost laughed at how whiny he sounded.
“No broken teeth so yeah, I think you're good”
He shot you an unimpressed look and you smirked.
“Come on drama queen let's get you home and mop up all this blood.”
And there was a lot of it.
It was dripping down his face onto his chest and running down his abs…
You hated seeing him in pain but, as you watched a drop roll down his stomach, you had to admit it was kind of hot.
And to be honest, it also kind of completed the whole Gladiator look.
You can’t really know in advance that seeing a man vulnerable and covered in blood is going to make you horny.
By the time you got home Charles's pain had gone down a little bit and the bleeding had stopped, so he let you sit on his lap while you disinfected his lip.
It just happens, and then you have to live with it.
He whined in pain when the spray hit the cut.
“You need to stop making those kinds of noises or I’m going to have to kiss you and make it worse”
Charles' eyebrows shot up in surprise.
You grinned as you got off his lap and went to get an ice pack for his nose.
“Don't move” you ordered “If you're a good boy I'll give you a blowjob to make you feel better”
You walked out and Charles was bewildered, to say the least.
You were horny? Now?
While you grabbed the ice pack out of the freezer he pulled his costume off, leaving him in his already tented underwear (he is but a simple man after all).
Not that he was complaining. Seb had taught him “never say no to a good blowie”.
You handed him the pack and looked him up and down.
You'll never figure out how you managed to get such a hot man to love you.
You cradled his jaw in your palm and he whimpered as the coldness of the ice made contact with his swollen nose.
“I’m going to ride you instead”
“I've changed my mind” you declared, and Charles looked like a kicked puppy, thinking you weren't up for sex anymore.
You slipped out of your drees and dropped it somewhere to your left as you looked at Charles seductively.
His cock twitched and you smirked, helping him lay down sideways on the couch as you slid his underwear off.
You’d been soaked since he ran into the pole (you were probably going to hell for that) so the slide was delicious as you straddled his hips and sank down on him slowly.
The lack of prep made him feel huge inside you and you moaned when his hips bucked involuntarily.
Once you were ready, you lifted off of him and slowly sank back down again.
The drag of his cock against your walls was pure heaven as you hadn't had time to fully indulge in your boyfriend since he'd been back.
You started a slow but demanding pace as you rode him exactly as he liked, and his hand flew to your hip to help ground himself.
Your hands went to his bloody chest to help stabilize you and you ended up smearing the blood further all over his skin.
“You're so hot like this, baby” you purred, Charles was already half gone, completely caught up in the pleasure of your tight cunt around him.
“Charles look at me”
He did. Those sea green eyes gazed at you heatedly as you bounced on him as if your life depended on it.
He was still holding the ice pack to his face with his other hand, and you decided to rip the corner off and take an ice cube out.
His confusion was evident on his face, but you just grinned evilly at him as you swirled the ice around one of his nipples.
He half yelped, half whined as it made contact, the cold making him shiver.
You ran the cube down his abs, following the trail of blood and smearing it even more, before going back up and teasing his other nipple with it until it melted completely.
His hips twitched involuntarily as his head swam with lust at your actions and when you leant down to suck on one of his nipples he cried out.
The heat of your mouth straight after the cold ice sent his body into overdrive and he started mumbling and begging you for release.
You felt pretty on edge yourself so you brought a hand down to circle your clit expertly while mouthing at Charles' other nipple.
“I'm not stopping you Charles, come for me if that's what you need” you mumbled against his skin and that was it for him.
His hips slammed into yours as he orgasmed, making you see stars as you reached your own peak and you rode each other's highs out like that, hips rolling against each other until you were sated.
“I think we both need a shower now” he said and you giggled as he lifted you up effortlessly and walked you over to the bathroom, him still inside you to avoid leaking cum all over the place.
The hot water of the shower stung his wounds, but it washed away all the blood and cum from your bodies as you basked in the heat together.
Once you were both thoroughly cleaned up, he carried you to bed and and curled up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and kissing your cheek goodnight.
“I love you” you mumbled sleepily after a couple of minutes.
“I love you too” his low grumble sounded behind you as he drifted in and out of sleep “and all your weird fucking kinks”
You both giggled like children and he squeezed you tightly. He was never letting go of you, even if it meant running into a few telephone poles now and then.
#my thots#halloween event#charles thots#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#f1#formula 1
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Debunking the 'males follow reason, women follow emotions' myth
A woman makes a rational demand to a male, he denies her. She gets frustrated and upset, he accuses her of being overly emotional, and the reason why women can't make good decisions. It's a situation we've seen repeat over and over again, and we've gotten convinced. After all, m*n don't get emotional, they make rational decisions, they don't have that annoying trait of having to cry or care too much, they just do what is right in any situation, while a woman could never stand in their place.
Historically, m*n have been making a lot of these, rational, non-emotional decisions, so let's analyze how they've been doing. Historically, a lot of m*n have both started, and fought in wars. According to them, this is a logical, hard factual decision they've made, and they're proud of it, wars are integral to humanity, we have to fight if we want peace, and so on. So rationally, what do wars achieve for humanity? Mass destruction, mass murder, terrorism, mass rape, mass famine, intense trauma, destruction of environment, destruction of animals, destruction of culture and property, sea of corpses. But, m*n have decided that this is reasonable, because to the country that's been doing it, it can bring new assets, colonization of land mass, new natural resources to exploit. Massive damage to one part of the population for the benefit of another part, this they say, is rational.
If you're a male, it's rational for you to cause damage to countless individuals if there is some sort of benefit to you in doing it. This is presented to us as a reasonable, human and rational thinking. They've not only indoctrinated us to believe this, but put this into their laws. They've created laws that allow them to commit murder under the circumstances of war. They've made sure to give themselves a way to commit murder to get what they want, and not be punished. Again, this is presented as inevitable, cold hard factual thinking.
I would argue that the emotions followed here are greed, sadism, pride, and deep sense of egotism. Deluding themselves into believing that the entire world is turning around their personal needs and wants, and any amount of damage made for this cause is irrelevant. This isn't rational thinking, this is selfish, valuing themselves to the point where other human lives have zero value to them; it's irrational. A woman who puts herself before others is immediately informed that she is objectively selfish, irrational, unrealistic, self-centered, and deserves any kind of harm going her way. M*n have been operating like this from the beginnng of human life, and expect to be praised as 'rational and objective', by these same women they call selfish for not acting as free servants for a second.
Let's look at another 'rational' concept males have created and developed: capitalism. Cold hard logic is – if you can exploit other people to the very maximum, and take the value of their labour for yourself, you should get to do it, and if you can't, work until your health gives out and you die in pain. Again, a group of people gets power to exploit another, resources are given to those with financial power; those who do not have it, have to fight to survive. We know at this point it's caused deaths, sicknesses, mental illness, hunger and low quality of life to the majority of the population, we also know it's caused massive environmental damage, to the point where the climate of the planet is threatened, and animals under mass extinction. Was this a logical move? Was it a normal, rational system to build? Yes according to m*n, because they get to use their financial power to rape women they wouldn't otherwise get to rape.
I would argue again, that the emotions followed in this case are selfishenss, cruelty and greed. When a woman tries to exploit people around her for her own benefit, she is called the worst slurs and names imaginable, and no punishment is too cruel to inflict on her. While m*n have been doing this for centuries and apparently we need to acknowledge that this is in fact, smart, rational and reasonable way to live, and also inevitable.
So let's see what women have been doing on earth at the same time while m*n were busy murdering people in wars and inventing financial systems that bring destruction; women were creating the human population. We were making sure that everyone alive gets to eat, drink, clean clothing, care. We were putting our labour and our minds in taking care of our family members, and fighting for our human rights whenever the situation, or the information we got allowed for it. We struggled to stand up to power-hungry m*n in our life who would exploit us, we studied and invented, we found our ways in every trade, every school, every cultural institution that did good to the planet, and we outpreformed m*n almost immediately after we got in. We gave our lives to make sure the human race isn't erased by the amount of murder and terrorism going on. We put our efforts into protecting the environment, we figured out medicine and then got destroyed for it, we lost countless of our own to murder, rape and torture, we tried to keep safe the ones who got hurt.
While m*n 'rational' and 'logical' thinking lead us closer to destruction, we've been fighting to preserve life.
Having the creatures in charge who believe themselves more rational, but function out of a place of empty pride, absolute ignorance, endless hunger for power, endless greed and insatiable sadism, is not a reasonable way to lead the civilization. In fact, it's been proven over and over again, that this causes low quality of life for everyone, creates practices that allow and support cruelty and destruction, and deals massive trauma and pain to the most of the living humans.
What is 'reasonable' to them, is for them to ignore everyone else's emotions, well being, safety, even the right to exist, and follow only their own. The reasoning they follow has nothing to do with being rational, it has to do with being selfish, proud, ignorant, and I can't stress this enough, being incredibly and utterly stupid. They're destroying the land they depend on to live, and feeling proud and rational to do so, while calling women stupid and selfish for wanting human rights.
It's been enough of this. A rational male has not been born or seen on this planet. We need to assume that every time a m*n says something, he has absolutely no clue what he's talking about, and is likely attempting to cause some damage for his own benefit – in all cases we will be right. We cannot let someone with a track record like this to be in the charge of decision making, nor should we respect their decisions. They couldn't even make laws that protect human lives. They couldn't even base their own accomplishments on the things they achieved – they had to take credit for our achievements over and over again. They are irrational, power hungry creatures that stop at nothing, humanity means nothing to them, human lives have no meaning to them. But they do to us.
We can make decision that make sense, specifically because we care about not destroying lives or the environment. We are capable of making the 'tough calls' because we will make the call that will not result in mass destruction! The only thing they keep holding over our head is that we don't have experience – but we can get it. And experience never helped them make less destructive, less stupid choices.
Male emotions are based on self-delusions. They refuse to see any consequence of their action, and play ignorant to the very end. Their empty pride, empty self-importance, empty confidence and empty arrogance is based on nothing but the lies they've told to themselves. Even slight factual analysis and statistics that come from male decisions, make their reasoning crumble into pieces.
Women's emotions are substantiated by facts. In every case when a woman has been told off for being emotional, she's getting gaslit and turned away from the cause of her emotion, which is always factual. It is reasonable to be upset at being treated as less than a human being. It is reasonable to care about the lives of other human beings. It is reasonable to care about the state of the world, state of the environment. It is reasonable to stand against destruction and loss of human lives. And yet we get told off for having the most substantiated, reasonable responses to male violence and terrorism.
And then there's one emotions males love to use to pretend they're not emotional: anger. It provides them with enough threat to stop women from analyzing and pointing out the failure of males, it works to protect them from the realization of how useless, harmful and destructive they've been. Making horrid, harmful and selfish decisions and exploding in anger if anyone comes close to pointing it out, coupled with blaming everyone else for having an emotional reaction to being harmed, is their primary 'reasonable' way of managing life. And this is what we have in charge on earth. A creature who causes damage, and then uses emotion to hide the damage they've done, while pretending to be an ignorant little baby, blissfully unaware of anything he does having any consequences.
We're done believing their lies.
#radical feminism#feminism#male violence#male wars#tw rape mention#male rape#male sadism#male selfishness
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Hello, my friends!
Just wanted to pop in with some info and updates.
*The "Cursed Birthday" won the 2k follower celebration poll. Sorry dads! I don't have an ETA for that just yet. I may write it here and there until the end of the year as the motivation strikes. I think the easiest way to tell the tale would be from Oswin's POV or even a shifting POV between him and Da (Kip). I'll decide for sure once I begin to write it. Also playing with the idea of doing this in Twine to make it playable. That way you could put your MC's specifics in for maximum emotional damage.
*I will still write things about the dads though, so all my Papa and Da fans out there won't be left in the dark forever.
*I will be "patching" Chapter 5 in the near future. I redid Zahn's scene (again) which gave me such a headache on release day. I formatted the beginnings in a much more streamlined way and fixed some bugs. When I have more time to sit and go through error reports, and make more corrections to typos, grammar, and code - then I will put the patch through.
*All chapters will be getting a scrub for issues in the text in the coming months. I will do my best to find them, but self-editing is very difficult (there's good reason that professional editors exist). In the future, I may need to ask for testers/editors.
*ASKS will be changing a bit. I do not know the full extent of how because it's a trial by fire. The rules will be updated as I come across things. But, here's why:
Spoiler prevention - as much as it is possible, I want to limit spoiling content for both new and existing readers. Not just for the plot points that are developing, but also for our mystery suitor who will have a lot of unraveling in the coming chapters. I will probably make a specific tag for answers that may contain spoilers, but some of the issue is the information in the Ask itself, which I can't hide. I may opt to compile these in a big post like once a month or so. This way, if anyone does not want to see anything spoilery, it's easier to avoid.
Time management - reaction asks specifically will remain limited and they will honestly have to be a lower priority depending on the condition of my inbox. I am very sorry for this, but these can take an inordinate amount of time. I write this IF in my downtime from work and personal life, and I also use those moments to manage Tumblr. I need to balance those so I can work toward releasing more of the IF.
Patreon - I still plan to give Patreon a go probably starting January. This will help me fund things for the game, such as art, and help me justify spending even more of my time writing chapters and extras. But like everything else, I will need to allot time to work on these things.
Personal Development - I'm taking a coding class! I can work on it at my leisure and it won't take a ton of time during the week, but it will take me out of my Tumblr time a little bit I think. Fingies crossed, I will learn a lot that will help me code a better game for you!
*Inbox - I have several Asks awaiting responses about chapter 5. As noted above, I am holding these due to spoilers to give readers a chance to catch up. (I may opt to compile these in one large post.)
Anyway, that's all for now (it's at least all I currently remember, lol).
Take care, all!
~Lunan ^_^
#god cursed if#asks#twine if#if wip#twine wip#gc ro reactions#interactive novel#if game#interactive fiction#probably need to sort out my tags too..
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Vash the Stampede vs. Trafalgar Law
Propaganda under cut:
Vash the Stampede:
He's just such a bleeding heart, has sad backstory with sad downsloped eyes and dramatic fashion sense. Loves too much and pays the price for it. Just so loveable, one determines he's babygirl on sight.
The 2023 version is more babygirl but his manga version is also very baby and very girl. Would put both images of him together since the design is different.
he's a blonde twunk with a slut waist and skank legs. and he's suffered more than jesus <3
pleeeeeease include a picture of maximum or 98 Vash and not just stampede Vash. theyre ALL babygirls, not just the stampede redesign. i wanna see his ugly ass broom hair on a poll too
He's simply THE baby girl, you know
He’s the most wanted man on the planet and he serves CUNT doing it, especially in the original manga. He’s also a biblically accurate angel-type-thing and an ace gunman who refuses to shoot back at the people who want his bounty :]
He's this super cool legendary gunman who terrifies everyone on the planet because he leaves destruction in his wake BUT it's not his fault because he's literally just chilling and everyone wants him dead for something he didn't do. He doesn't even like shooting people he just wants to maybe get some donuts and take a nice nap but nooo he walks into town and everyone decides "let's bullet hell this guy, cause massive property damage, and say it's his fault!" Also he's horrendously doomed by the narrative and the prettiest boy you ever did see. Look at those big ol blue eyes and tell me he's not babygirl. You'd be lying.
Trafalgar Law:
He thinks he's cool he wants other people to think he's cool sooooo bad but he's such a loser <3. He sent 100 pirates hearts to the navy and is an absolute weird little freak but then he also gets excited about ninjas and is heartbroken to learn that ninjas do not in fact say "nin nin" when he meets a real ninja. 26 years old and straight up getting into squabbles with a 19 year old (and a 23 year old also I guess). Gay little poses. Had to in the middle of a fight yell at Luffy to clarify that actually he was ALREADY going to do that and Luffy didn't need to tell him to bevause now it looks like he's following Luffy's orders which he WASN'T. OKAY? The non-canon one piece party also loves to make him so cringefail with him having a really bad sense of humor causing him to get into a competition with the strawhats which he completely fails at every part of and gives us the line "if it's a hawaiian shirt wearing competition i am confident". Also went through unimaginable horrors as a child that he didn't really start to properly recover from until like 13 years later. Also again he's so lame <3 boyloser <3
#the babygirl polls#ultimate babygirl tournament#round 3#vash the stampede#trigun#trigun maximum#trigun stampede#trafalgar law#one piece
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The Patron Saint of One Way Trips
Ch 27
Have two chapters at once. Sorry for neglecting you all. Tonight, we feast!
things are about to get…fun
*Laika’s (Y/Ns) POV*
I feel secure for the first time in a long time. It is an odd feeling, but one I will try my best to get used to.. it feels… nice.
I slowly wake up, no longer in Simon’s embrace, instead slotted between Kyle and Johnny on a strange, smelly sofa. John comes in and starts going over Kate’s new lead on Makarov the Russians.
I try to hide my fear and anxiety about the possibility of running into old foes, however the pack of Alphas quickly pick up on my slightly souring scent, promising to stay close and keep me safe.
As soon as I concentrate on the strange smell, that I thought came from the sofa that we were lounging on in the new safehouse, I pause and try to figure out why it bothers me. Kyle’s gentle hand on my thigh tells me that he has noticed my furrowed brow and gentle sniffing.
“What’s wrong, baby..?” He asks softly
“Can you smell that..?” I ask in response
“The Beta scent? It’s probably just whoever cleared the safehouse before we arrived, love. Nothing to worry about.. yeah?” he says as he scents the air, trying to put my mind at ease.
I swallow and take a deep breath, accepting that I’m just being silly. “Yeah.. you’re right.. sor” - Kyle tsks his lips together and tutts at me. “No apologising” he reminds me.
I huff a small laugh and lean into his body “thanks, Alpha”. I nuzzle into his neck, where his scent was strongest. His arms wrap around me like a cocoon, as he easily lifts me from my spot and pulls me onto his lap. I keep my nose shoved into his neck, to keep the strange, somehow familiar, smell from infiltrating my senses.
John finalises his plans quietly with Simon, calling Kyle over to talk over his role in the upcoming mission. Kyle gently rolls me off of his lap as he stands.
“C’mere sweet girl” Johnny growls, grabbing me closer and squeezing me tightly as soon as I am untangled from Kyle. I can’t help but giggle whenever Johnny is around. He is by far the most hands on and loudest Alpha in the pack, but I’ve come to love him for it. Kyle smiles fondly at the scene before standing and moving to the table that is filled with maps and images.
I snuggle into Johnny and rest against his scent gland, again, hoping to diffuse the strange scent I had picked up.
“Sorted then” John speaks up, smacking Kyle and Simon on their shoulders. “Sweetheart, have you decided what you want to do, yet..?” he asks me.
“I think I can help.. I don’t want to be useless.. just tell me the plan, Captain” I reply, filled with false confidence, trying to fool the Alpha’s into thinking I am braver than I truly am. “That’s my girl!” Johnny laughs, squeezing my waist.
“Can I see the plan..?” I ask
“We will go over it soon, let me and the boys go and get everything from the jeep and then we can start familiarising you with what’s going to happen” John explains
“Be back in 5” Simon grunts, opening the door.
I nod and lean back into Johnny, exhaling gently. I watch as John, Simon and Kyle file out of the house and close the door behind them, locking Johnny and I in for maximum security.
Everything seems to happen all at once. The power cuts out and Johnny tightens his hold on me. Then all of a sudden there is a huge crash and a flash of blinding white light, and then heat. Everything goes black for a moment and when I regain consciousness, I am surrounded by broken wood and bricks. The safehouse had been rigged.
Johnny. Where’s Johnny..?
I scramble from my position in the rubble, whimpering at the searing pain that shoots through my shoulder. My sight is blurry, or is it the dust from the explosion? I hear thuds and fighting from nearby, the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the crack of metal against skin.
A hand grabs my ankle. I shriek and try to scramble away, uncoordinated, I fumble and scrape my damaged hands across the sharp rubble. “Love. It’s jus’ me..shh, c’mere quick, we need to leave. NOW”
It’s Johnny. I stop my desperate attempt of escape and slump against his chest, he grabs me and drags me toward a gap in the rubble, where the old door would have been.
“Johnny..? The others.. we - we can’t just leave them..” - I pull back from him, trying to head towards the sounds of fighting.
“They’ll come for us. We need to move. Are ye’ broken?” He asks, rapidly eyeing me up and down, eyes pausing on the areas of damage inflicted upon my body. I shake my head, clinging to his arm. Only then do I notice that Johnny has a bad gash on his upper arm, and a growing patch of blood on his thigh.
“Where can we go..?” I whisper to him.
“Dinnae ken yet, love.. but we need to lay low. Figure out what happened and who is behind it. The pack will come for us when they realise our bodies aren’t here..” he explains.
I gulp but nod. I knew I smelt something off
Three long, painful hours later, Johnny and I arrive at a boarded up flat in the middle of the city. It looks as if it had been abandoned. The front garden is overgrown with weeds and the paint on the door is chipped and peeling. The windows are smashed and replaced with boarded wood. Johnny thuds heavily at the boarded up doorway and within 3 hits, he has broken the lock. As soon as we step in the doorway, Johnny sweeps the abandoned space for danger, concluding that it’s safe for the time being. I glance around, surprised to find that the flat seems to be fully furnished, albeit with dated and damaged furniture, but still!
He reappears from the stairwell, and limps towards me. He finally drops his guard, collapsing against me and heaving out the most shuddering, stressed breath I’d ever heard from the Alpha.
I melt into his embrace and he picks me up and carries me to a room upstairs. He places me gently down on the creaky bed and huddles over me, collecting any blankets and cloths he could find in the small cabin, attempting to create a safe nest. He is mumbling words of reassurance, I’m not sure if the words are for my benefit or his own..
“Jo-Johnny..?” I whisper, trying to catch his attention, as he appears to be on autopilot.
He ignores me, I try again, grabbing gently at his wrist. “Johnny!”
His eyes meet mine sharply. “Omega…?”
“Let me look at your leg, Alpha. And the cut on your arm” his response is instant.
“Awkt, I’m fine, Laika. I need to take care of you, that’s all that matters right now” - “no, Johnny” his eyes snap to mine at my disagreement. “What do you mean ‘no’?” He asks with a furrowed brow.
“We need to make sure we are both ok, Johnny. So we can find the others.. I can’t do it on my own, I need to make sure you are ok too. So you can look after me…” I try playing into his Alpha instincts which were clearly on high alert right now. I think it works as I planned as he nods along and is quickly herding me into the bathroom and crashing through cupboards for cotton wool and any medical equipment he can find.
We spend the next half an hour cleaning ourselves up to the best of our ability. Johnny’s cuts aren’t as deep as I first thought, to my relief. My shoulder aches, but there is nothing that can be done about that, as whatever is wrong is internal. Johnny reminds me that it’s the same shoulder that I damaged in Las Almas. I should really get it checked out at some point.
We reconvene in the makeshift nest Johnny had made. “What’s the plan..?” I ask softly.
“I’m going to try comms. If that doesn’t work, I’ll go and buy a burner phone and sim, and make some calls” he determines.
“Do you think they’re all alive..?” I whimper
“Lass, don’t you dare even think like that. They’ll be fine. They weren’t in the house when it got blasted! They’re the ones who’ll think we’re dead” he reassures me, wiping the small tears from my eyes.
“I - I heard fighting outside though..”
“Aye, and you ken our Alphas dinnae lose fights! Si and Cap are like human fuckin’ battering rams. Especially when pack is concerned. Kyle will be keeping them sane too. He is the level headed one. They’ll be fine, pretty. I promise”
I sniff and nod, trying to convince myself to agree with him.
“I should have said something to John. I knew I smelt something weird..”
“What do you mean, lass”
“I mentioned to Kyle that there was a strange smell.. but he said it was a Beta’s scent. Probably just whoever cleaned the safe house before we had arrived. But.. but it was a familiar smell. One that I know.. I think - I think it has something to do with the ambush.”
Johnny listens intently to my rambling.
“You’re a clever lass, you know that, right? Try and remember the scent and who it belongs to.. I’m going to try and contact Cap.. just keep trying to remember, Bonnie”
I nod as he turns away from me and starts tapping away at his comms kit. I hear crackling and static. I stand and make my way to the bathroom. I sit down on the closed toilet with my head in my hands. I needed silence to rack my brains on the scent.
Silence
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. The tap. I close my eyes.
I’m back in my damp, dark cell. The sound of water falling from the ceiling used to sound like the ticking of a clock. The sour smell of my cell. The damp, dingy aroma. That’s it!!
“Johnny!” I gasp from the bathroom.
He scrambles to his feet and barges into the room. “You ok, lass?!” he panics.
“I know the scent” I breathe heavily, on the verge of a panic attack.
“Calm down, take deep breaths, love”
“It’s Sergei. Dr Dimitrov’s guard. The one that used to watch me..”
*Johnny’s POV*
Shit. As soon as Laika says that, I’m taken back to the day that I found her in that disgusting cell. She’d hidden, quiet as a wee mouse. I barged in that day expecting the asset to be some pumped up mega- alpha super soldier. Not Laika. Never in a million years, Laika. But there she was, frail and scared and wanting to die.
And they want her back, it seems.
Over my dead fuckin’ body!
#john mctavish x reader#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#task force x reader#kyle garrick x reader#simon riley x reader#abo dynamics#kyle gaz garrick#omega reader#poly 141
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Kinktober day 5: Gun Play + Steven Grant
Steven Grant x SHIELD agent!Male!reader
Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 6 | Ao3
Summary: After taking a day off, you finally get to go home to your boyfriend, Steven.
(a/n: I MISSED YESTERDAY AND IT SHATTERED MY SOUL INTO A MILLION PIECES IM SORRY I WAS TIRED AND I FORGOT)
Warning: Guns, mention of reader killing and being shot at, reader is close with Nick Fury kinda, oral, hand job, surprisingly gentle sex, obedient Steven Grant, soft top reader, Steven talks to Marc but that's not really a warning I just wanted yall to know that my bbygrl was mention in this fic
Words: 2k
SHIELD has been sending you all over the world as of recently, you didn't complain, you knew your work was important, and the amount of trust you’d gained from Nick Fury came with a lot of off-the-books missions, mostly investigating SHIELD itself. You'd asked from a break, at least a day or so, to get your gear together after you gun, which has been through many, many mission, jammed on you mid encounter. It was embarrassing, luckily the only other people who saw it happen were either dead or in maximum security prison serving life.
Your boyfriend, Steven, wasn't home when you got there, mostly likely at work, or maybe Marc was out on his a mission. Either way, you waited for him.
In the meantime, you decided to finally take care of your gear, you'd brought all of the supplies from SHEILD headquarters before coming home, setting up at Steven’s desk, and moving the book he had lying on the table and a couple of papers into a neat stack. You started with your boots, scrubbing them, changing the insoles, making sure the outsole wasn't damaged beyond a bit of wear from years of use, then setting them aside.
Moving on to your vest, you picked out the metal fragment from the various bullets that had shattered on impact, replacing the aramid padding that- even though it has yet to show signs of any extreme damage- was starting to wear. The bruise on your stomach was proof of that, the vest stopped the bullet from piercing skin, but didn't lessen the impact as it hit you. You sighed, knowing that Steven was going to fuss over it the second he saw the festering bruise.
You moved on to you knives, still pretty sharp, but not as sharp as they should have been. Using the lanksy puck that you definitely were not supposed to take to sharpen a them. Carefully putting them back in their sheaths and reattatching them to your utility belt, which sat in a duffle bag with both your uniform and you newly repaired vest.
Finally, you moved onto the main event, you gun, which was still jammed, turning the safety on before completely disassembling it, staring at the pieces of your revolver on the table. You didn't worry to much about the the bullets, they'd be gone by your next mission anyway.
You took your time with this one, getting into every nook and cranky, blood, dust, and built up metal from the bullets, just a bunch of little things. Reassembly was purely muscle memory, your gun looked and felt brand new. You took the ammo out and dry-fired the gun, it sounded a hell of a lot better- and the hammer dropped without interruption, jam officially gone, you reloaded the gun and sat it on the desk.
It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, letting the tension slip from your shoulders with a sigh, practically melting into the seat, finnaly able to relax.
And as if he somehow knew that you were officially off duty, you heard Steven fumble with the lock, seemingly dropping the key, a small swear leaving him, before he unlocked the door. He walked around silently for a while, setting down his bag and heading to the kitchen, muttering to himself, or more likely Marc, as he was asking questions about the morning, what they ate for breakfast and where Marc had left the book Steven had been reading before bed.
It took him maybe five minutes to walk back there. He walked straight past you, not paying any attention and b-lining to the bed, to be fair, it was late and Steven wasn't exactly the most observant. You loved him though, so you let him lay there for a moment before calling his name.
He practuscally jumped out of his skin, getting caught in the mess of blankets for moment. Steven was on you faster that you thought was possible. Damn near tackling you, the chair surprisingly holding both of your weight and Steven situated himself in your lap, his legs drapped across yours.
“You're back! When did you fly in?” he asked, a wide smile on his face.
“About three hours ago, where’ve you been?”
He groaned, flopping down against you, his head on your shoulder.
“Job hunting, again.”
“What happened to the uh, what was it, the library, right? I thought you were having fun over there?”
“I was, but they cut the budget and I was new so they dropped me.”
“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, “poor thing.”
He sighed, enjoying the contact after nearly a month apart.
“What about you, I thought you weren't supposed to be back for another two weeks?”
“I wasn't, but..” you grabbed you pistol off the table, you finger on the trigger even though the safety was on and you had no immediate target, “My gun jammed and I asked my boss to give me a day off in order to fix it,”
Stevens's eyes were glued to the gun as you spoke, appreciating every little detail and crevice it held.
You knew about Steven’s affinity for guns, well, you and guns, guns alone did nothing for Steven, but when you held them...
He got quiet, glancing at you only to see you staring back at him with a knowing look on your face.
“Im flying back out tomorrow..”you pointed the gun downward, nudging his legs open with the tip, he complyed without any hesitation. “…i was thinking you and I could-”
“Yes!”
You stared at the man for a moment, almost bewildered before remembering that you've been gone for nearly two months and he's probably been thinking about this since the day you left.
You hummed before saying, “Get on the bed, lay on your back, I want to see you.”
He grinned again, practically running to the bed, shrugging off his jacket and leaving it on the floor, laying down in the bed, hardly able to keep himself still.
You sat at the desk for a short moment, completely removing the ammo from the gun, double checking it to avoid any incidence, then walked over to Steve, who was practically vibrating in excitement.
Kneeling between his legs, you commemorated the image of him, so happy to be fully and utterly yours, to memory.
You pointed the gun on his chest, digging the tip into his shirt, watching his reaction intently, he ceased all movement, staring down at it, taking in the weight on his chest.
“Breathe, Steven.” you said when you noticed he wasn't.
He let out a long, shuttered breath.
“You know I would never hurt you? Right Steven.”
“Oh course..”
“Good, “ you slid the gun down, feeling where his ribs ended and sturdy muscle began. Stopping just below his belly button.
“Strip, slowly, I want to see you.”
He complied easily. Hands shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, just like you demanded.
“That's it, good boy..”
Shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, then moving down to his pants. Fumbling with the belt, getting it just before you could offer your help, he kicked his jeans down until they pooled on the floor below.
You stared at him, taking in his smooth skin and every sculpted muscle that you had no one but Marc to thank for.
Running the tip of your pistol lower and lower, running it over the growing tent in his underwear, he shuttered, a light gasp passing his slightly parted lips.
Dragging it across his waist, then down his thigh, Steven watched the gun just as intensely as you watched him. You let your finger hover the trigger, he swallowed hard.
You moved suddenly, lifting the gun to his head, right between his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard, he never hid how he felt, not with you, he felt like he didn't have to, or more accurately, he couldn't. You were an agent of SHEILD, you were trained to see through lies.
Moving your hand down ever so slightly, pressing the gun against his lips.
“Open.”
For the forth time tonight, he obeyed. Taking the tip in his mouth, then more, sucking and licking like the gun could feel it.
The effects it had on you were innumerable.
You hummed softly, adjusting your grip. You watched him, he seemingly never got bored, the imagined danger and thrill perpetuating him, eager to please cold steel.
You tugged slightly, and he let it go, lips wet with saliva.
The way he looked at you, his eyes low, cheeks flushed, breathing like he'd just run a hundred miles.
“You're being so good, Steven, so obedient. You must have really missed me..”
He nodded rapidly, “I missed you, I missed you so much-”
You shushed him, “I know, I know. I shouldn't have to leave you here, all on your own, I should be here to protect you at all times..”
He nodded along- you both knew that he didn't need the protection, but fuck it kept you here he’d be your damsel in distress forever.
Rubbing the wet tip down his chest, then right above his cock, tapping the trigger, watching him flinch at every move. He watched so intently, his breath shaky and loud, you were unpredictable, yet he couldn't wait to see what you did next.
Nudging the tip of the gun past the elastic waistband of his underwear, pulling them down.
Steven couldn't stay still, his brain and body running a million miles an hour. Slowly, you sunk down between his legs, your gun pressed right up against the center of his chest. You knew the position would get uncomfortable soon, so you decided to make this as quick as you could.
“Don’t move.” he didn't nod, or talk, just immediately playing along.
Taking your free hand, you guided Steven's hard cock, shiny with pre-cum to your mouth.
He was always sensitive, but your tongue had hardly even pressed the tip of his cock before he was a whimpering, whining mess. Hs adrenaline was spiked, of course he was more susceptible that ever right now. Taking him as deep as you could, feeling him press against the back of your throat. His hands balled into the bedsheets bellow, nearly tearing them in his hands.
Running your tongue on the underside of his cock, then swirling it around the tip, never taking your eyes off of him. His little whines growinh louder and more desperate.
You pulled away when you felt him start bucking into your mouth. Taking a short moment to wipe your mouth of both spit and pre cum.
You lifted slightly, wrapping your hand around his now perfectly lubed cock. Stroking him nice and slow, soft moans falling from his lips.
He whined your name over and over, obedience and his composure, the latter of which was had been already hanging on by a thread before you ever put your mouth or hands on him, waining. He loved nights like these when you were gentle but still so very obviously in control.
“Y/n- y/n, I'm so close, please, Love, please-”
You tightened your grip on the gun, pressing it harder into his chest, he moaned at the feeling.
You never sped up, watching him build up the his orgasm nice and slow, and when his mouth fell open in a long moan and his eyes squeezed so tightly shut you're sure he was seeing stars behind them.
Then- you squeezed the trigger. Nothing came out but Steven gasped hard like he’d been hit. His hips twitched up into your hand, cum pouring out all over your fingers. Even when that stopped, his orgasm still seemed to flow through him, his body drawn tight as he came down.
“Y/n..” he panted, “you're good, so good-”
Dragging the gun down, right into the pool of cum at the base of his stomach, then bringing it up to your mouth, licking it off.
“Come on, Steven, we're not done..”
#x male reader#male reader#male!reader#kinktober#male s/o#x male!reader#kinktober 2023#steven grant x male reader#steven grant x male!reader
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i know this isn't exactly what you usually talk about but i need to ask somewhere and you seem really safe and kind about stuff.
I'm struggling to work out if i 'count' as physically disabled - because like most of my problems (fatigue, joint pains, weakness) are Not That Bad™️ and most of them would probably get a lot better if not go away completely if i did things like eat better and sleep properly and exercise more but between the aforementioned fatigue and pain and the autism and the having a 9-5 job and so on it makes it practically impossible to do those things anyway. Like yeah my weak ass legs would probably be better if i did exercise but i dont have the time or the energy.
But then also Something Is Up like i had back pain at age 5 - that's not normal. Nobody ever diagnosed it as anything i just went to a chiro a few times and got some stretches i rarely did because a) i was a kid and b) the stretches either didnt do anything at all, or were literally impossible. Like there were a few that were completely trivial and i could do to the maximum extension of healthy joints unless i was otherwise injured, and others where i physically couldn't reach the starting position - not even always because of pain but just because my joints physically didnt move that far. (I try to do the ones i can still at least sometimes but i've forgotten the ones that were physically impossible) So like there has to be Something up - a 5 year old does not get back pain for lifestyle reasons.
Idk. this is getting ramble-y i think but i just don't know what i feel and I'm so shit scared of doctors (for no good reason, they're just very stressful environments) that i haven't ever brought any of it up as an adult and so there hasn't been any attempt to do anything about it anyway but also i'll probably just get told to stretch and exercise anyway and as discussed that isn't always an option.
I read a fair bit of physical disability stuff and i sometimes reblog or engage with it a little bit if it's like 'oof ouch my back' or whatever that i relate to really obviously, but idk if I'm allowed to be in those spaces more obviously or what i should do about any of it either.
(ow. my hands hurt from holding my phone to type all that. that's getting worse too. not sure what's up with that...)
hello there!
generally i'd say that if you're experiencing joint pain, especially right as you begin standing on your feet and weakness, there's a very good chance there's an underlying issue. that's enough to say that you're physically disabled, as it's impacting your ability to work, stand on your feet, and so on. it's up to an individual to decide whether or not they feel disabled by their aches, pains and so on
definitely try to avoid chiropractors moving forward- most of what they do is nebulously helpful at best and damaging at worst. if you are able to do so, seeing a rheumatologist, orthopedist, physical therapist or kinesiologist. you may be able to speak to a pain management specialist in your area if that's necessary. you can get referrals to these types of specialists and appointments through your doctor.
best of luck in figuring out what's going on. i would say it sounds like that's disabling for you. i hope you're able to get some help for that so you can have an easier time. take care for now, stay safe
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this is a fic that i would LIKE to write, but unfortunately, the actual details of writing it drive me up the fucking wall. so i am posting the general framework here, just to get it out of my system. so:
CONCEPT: Sonic Forces Metamy Political Marriage.
four months into the war. the resistance is losing ground, they only control about 10% of the planet. and rather than just crushing them outright, eggman comes up with psychological warfare - he starts to torment them with terms of surrender. in particular, he targets amy by saying stuff like "You can save everyone, Amy! The war will be over, and everyone gets to go back home! You can save everyone, right now, if you just stop caring about your principles and surrender."
the terms of surrender are actually pretty good, but they're also pretty visibly designed to inflict maximum psychic damage on the resistance. the most IMPORTANT part, though, is that the terms of surrender require a binding ceremony between the resistance and the eggman empire. it's framed as a political marriage thing.
however - eggman never intended the terms of surrender to be accepted. it was purely a psych-out tactic. he never actually expected that the terms of surrender would be ACCEPTED. and by amy rose, of all people??? so eggman basically weasels out of it by saying now amy and metal sonic have to get married. amy and metal hate it immensely but begrudgingly accept it.
amy and metal manage to peacefully coexist for all of sixteen hours before they have their first screaming match, followed by a deeply personal conversation regarding their feelings about being engaged to each other. metal basically says "Nobody will ever love me. Nobody will ever love me, so just let me pretend otherwise until this farce is over with." and amy still hates him, but like... she's not going to be a bitch about that sort of statement. eventually they agree to have a big dumb lovey-dovey pretend wedding as a coping mechanism for their respective situations, and go back to hating each other afterwards.
(spoiler: they do not go back to hating each other.)
they then proceed to get WAY too invested in the wedding. like, unhealthily so. the argument over the flower arrangements go into the history books. when the time comes for the actual wedding, amy and metal sonic both decide to go big or go home. it is the biggest, gaudiest, ugliest wedding you have ever seen. everything is either hot pink or goth black and there is NO inbetween. the cake is like sixteen layers tall, the chapel is filled with so many flowers that it makes a few people sick, everything. MAXIMALIST WEDDING. eggman is just along for the ride at this point.
the bride and groom wear the ugliest fucking wedding dresses you've ever seen. amy looks like she's from a 1980s barbie commercial and metal sonic looks like a hot topic got their shipments mixed up with a bridal goods store. they are very pleased with themselves and they are also so fucking insufferable that basically all the guests heckle them most of the way through the ceremony.
halfway through the ceremony, infinite tries to crash because he's obsessed with attention and can't stand not being the most important person in the room. unfortunately for him, in the chaos of the wedding planning, eggman is SO DONE with this loser and promptly cuts all power to the phantom ruby prototype infinite is using. the gathered guests promptly kick his ass and toss him into a dumpster outside.
at some point sonic shows up for the sole purpose of leaving a gag gift at the wedding reception. like a toolbox just in case amy wants to inspect any of metal sonic's parts. sonic does NOT know the tools will be used for foreplay and would be fucking horrified to find out.
at some indeterminate point sonic and his very canonical bestie ian jr both break out of the death egg and tear down the eggman empire's stranglehold on the world while everyone else is obsessed with the wedding. the rest of the cast find this out like three weeks after the wedding goes down.
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