#we’re very proud of you son
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mtndewredd · 3 months ago
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Gotta love muttering movie scripts from memory while descending into madness
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robertreich · 4 months ago
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10 Worst Things About The Trump Presidency
Donald Trump left office with the lowest approval rating of any president ever. But some people now seem to be suffering from amnesia.
Let me jog your memory. Here are 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency — in no particular order.
#1. Trump fueled division and sparked a record uptick in hate crimes.
#2. Murder went way up under Trump. He presided over the largest ever single-year increase in homicides in 2020. A number of factors might have contributed to that, but a big one is…
#3. Gun sales broke records under Trump, who has bragged about how he “did nothing” to restrict guns as president in spite of…
#4. Under Trump, America suffered more than 1,700 mass shootings.
#5. Trump said there were "very fine people" among the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville.
I’m halfway to ten. If you think I’m missing something big, leave it in the comments.
#6. Trump allied himself with the Proud Boys, a violent hate group who helped orchestrate the Jan 6 Capitol attack.
#7. Trump’s not wrong when he says…
TRUMP: I got rid of Roe v. Wade.
It is entirely because of Trump’s judicial appointments that 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age now lives in states with abortion bans.
#8. One of Trump’s Supreme Court justices was Brett Kavanaugh, a man accused of sexual assault by multiple women.
#9. Trump’s White House interfered in the FBI’s investigation of Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged sexual assaults.
And now: #10. Trump has been convicted of committing 34 felonies while in office. The criminally false business filings he got convicted for in New York? All of them were committed while he was president.
I’m sorry, did I say the 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency? I meant 15.
#11. Trump’s failed pandemic response is estimated to have led to hundreds of thousands of needless deaths. By the time Trump left office, roughly 3,000 Americans were dying of covid every day. That’s a 9/11-scale mass casualty event every single day. How did Trump screw up so badly?
#12. Trump’s White House discarded the pandemic response playbook that had been assembled by the Obama administration.
#13. Trump disbanded the National Security Council’s pandemic response team.
#14. Trump repeatedly lied about the danger of covid, saying it was no worse than the flu or that it would go away on its own.
But behind closed doors, Trump admitted he knew covid was deadly.
#15. Trump promoted fake covid cures like hydroxychloroquine and even injecting people with disinfectants.
After Trump’s “disinfectant” remarks, poison control centers received a spike in emergency calls.
That’s fifteen things. Should I keep going? Ok, I’ll keep going. The 20 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.
#16. Trump presided over a net loss of 2.9 million American jobs — the worst recorded jobs numbers of any U.S. president in history.
#17. Trump profited off the presidency, making an estimated $160 million from foreign countries while he was president.
#18. Trump also billed the Secret Service over $1 million for the privilege of staying at his golf clubs and other properties while they protected him. That’s your money!
#19. Trump caused the longest government shutdown in U.S. history when he didn’t get funding for his border wall, which he said Mexico was going to pay for.  
#20. Under Trump, the national debt increased by about 40% — more than in any other four-year presidential term — largely because of his tax cuts for the rich and big corporations.
You didn’t really think I was stopping at 20, did you? We’re going to 25 —
#21. Trump separated more than 5,000 children from their parents at the border, with no plan to ever reunite them, putting babies in cages.
#22. The Muslim Ban. Yes, Trump really did try to ban Muslims from entering the country.
#23. Trump sparked international outrage by moving the American Embassy in Israel to Jerusalem while closing the U.S. mission to Palestine.
#24. Trump tasked his son-in-law Jared Kushner with drafting a potential Middle East “peace plan” with zero Palestinian input.
#25. And finally, Trump recognized Israel’s occupation of the Goh-lahn Heights, which is considered illegal under international law.
So there you have it, folks: The 25 Worst — Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Did I mention the impeachments? We’ve got to do the impeachments. Let’s go to 30.
#26. Trump broke the law by trying to withhold nearly $400 million of U.S. aid for Ukraine in an effort to extort a personal political favor from Ukraine’s Pres. Zelensky. Trump wanted Zelensky to interfere in the 2020 election by announcing an investigation into the Bidens. Delaying this aid to Ukraine weakened Ukraine and strengthened Russia.
#27. Trump personally attacked and ruined the careers of everyone who stood in the way of his illegal Ukraine scheme, including Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch and Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman.
#28. To cover up the scheme, Trump ordered the White House and State Department to defy congressional subpoenas.
#29. For these reasons, on December 18, 2019, Trump became the third U.S. president to be impeached. He was charged with Abuse of Power and Obstruction of Congress.
#30. Even while he was being investigated for trying to get Ukraine to interfere in the U.S. election, Trump publicly called for China to interfere in the election.
So those are the 30 Worst Things —
I’ll go to 35.
#31. Long before Election Day, Trump started making false claims that the election would be rigged.
#32. After losing, Trump falsely claimed the election was stolen, even though his own inner circle, including his campaign manager, White House lawyers, and his own Justice Department and attorney general told him it was not.
#33. Trump kept telling his Big Lie even after more than 60 legal challenges to the election were struck down in court, many by Trump-appointed judges.
#34. Trump ordered the Department of Justice to falsely claim that the election “was corrupt.”
#35. Trump and his allies used threats to pressure state leaders in Arizona and Georgia to falsify the election results.
We may go to 40.
#36. When none of the previous schemes worked, Trump and his allies produced fake electoral votes cast by fake electors in multiple swing states. His former White House chief of staff and Rudy Giuliani are among the many members of his inner circle who have been criminally indicted for this scheme.
#37. Trump tried to bully Vice President Pence into obstructing the certification of the election.
#38. Trump invited a mob to the Capitol on Jan 6 with his “be there, will be wild” tweet.
#39. Sworn testimony alleges that when Trump was warned that members of the crowd were carrying deadly weapons, he ordered security metal detectors to be taken down.
#40. Knowing the crowd had deadly weapons, he ordered them to go to the Capitol and…
TRUMP: …fight like hell.
#41 — Yes, yes, I know, bear with me.
Trump betrayed his oath to defend the nation by doing nothing to stop the Jan 6 violence. Instead, according to witness testimony, he sat and watched TV for hours.
#42. On January 13, 2021, Trump became the only president ever to be impeached twice. This time he was charged with incitement of insurrection. It was a bipartisan vote.
#43. The majority of senators — 57 out of 100 — voted to convict Trump, including 7 Republican senators.
So that’s the two impeachments and the Big Lie, but wait, we haven’t dealt with Russia, right? So we’re going to 50.
#44. In a likely obstruction of justice, Trump pressured then FBI Director James Comey to stop the FBI’s investigation into Trump’s National Security Adviser, Michael Flynn. This was documented in the Mueller report.
#45. When Comey didn’t bend to Trump’s will, Trump fired him.
#46. Trump tried to shut down the Mueller investigation by ordering White House Counsel Don McGann to fire Mueller. McGann refused because that would be criminal obstruction of justice.
#47. When news got out that Trump tried to fire Mueller, Trump repeatedly told McGann to lie — to Mueller, to press, to public — and even create a false document to conceal Trump’s attempt to fire Mueller.
#48. Trump ordered his staff not to turn over emails showing Don Jr. had set up a meeting at Trump Tower before the 2016 election with representatives of the Russian government.
#49. Trump convinced Michael Cohen to lie to Congress about Trump’s plans to build a Trump Tower in Moscow, and Cohen served prison time for lying to Congress.
#50. Trump was not charged for criminal obstruction of justice because it’s the Justice Department’s policy not to indict a sitting president, but more than a thousand former federal prosecutors who served under both Republicans and Democrats, signed a letter declaring there was more than enough evidence to prosecute Trump.
So those are the 50 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency. Now I could go on…
And I will! The 75 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.
#51. Trump said he’d hire only the best people, but…
His campaign chair was convicted of multiple crimes.
So was one of his closest associates.
His deputy campaign chair pleaded guilty to crimes.
So did his personal lawyer
His National Security Adviser
The Chief Financial Officer of his business
A campaign foreign policy adviser
And one of his campaign fundraisers.
They all committed crimes, and Trump pardoned most of them.
#52. Trump said he’d drain the Washington swamp. But he appointed more billionaires, CEOs, and Wall Street moguls to his administration than any administration in history
#53. Trump intervened to get his son-in-law, Jared Kushner top-secret clearance after he was denied over concerns about foreign influence.
#54. Trump hosted a Russian Foreign Minister to the Oval Office, where Trump revealed top-secret intelligence.
Oh, and Trump’s economic policies!
#55 Trump promised that the average American family would see a $4,000 pay raise because of his tax cuts for the wealthy and big corporations. How’d that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise? Of course not! Nobody did!
#56. Trump vowed to protect American jobs, but offshoring increased and manufacturing fell.
#57. Trump said he would fix America’s infrastructure, but it never happened. He announced so many failed “infrastructure weeks” they became a running joke.
#58. Trump said he would be “the voice” of American workers, but he filled the National Labor Relations Board with anti-union flacks who made it harder for workers to unionize.
#59. Trump’s Labor Department made it easier for bosses to get out of paying workers overtime, which cheated 8 million workers of extra pay.
#60. Trump repeatedly suggested he might serve more than two terms in violation of the Constitution — and continues to do so.
#61. Trump called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries.
#62. Trump tried to terminate DACA, which protects immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. Luckily this was struck down by the courts.
#63. Trump called climate change a “hoax.”
#64. Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement.
#65. Trump rolled back more than 100 environmental protections.
#66. Every budget Trump proposed included cuts to Social Security and Medicare.
#67. Trump tried (and failed) to repeal the Affordable Care Act, which would have resulted in 20 million Americans losing insurance. And striking down the ACA’s protections for the roughly 130 million people with pre-existing conditions could have driven up their insurance premiums or led to a loss of coverage.
#68. Trump made it easier for employers to remove birth control coverage from insurance plans.
#69. By the end of Trump’s term, the number of people lacking health insurance had risen by 3 million.
#70. Trump lied. Constantly. He made 30,573 false or misleading claims while president — an average of 21 a day, according to Washington Post fact-checkers.
#71. Trump allegedly took hundreds of classified documents on his way out of the White House, reportedly including nuclear secrets, which he then left unsecured in various parts of Mar-a-Lago, including a bathroom. He was even caught on tape showing them off to people.
#72. Trump seriously discussed the idea of nuking a hurricane.
#73. When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, Trump delayed $20 billion of aid and allowed Puerto Rico to be without power for 181 days.
#74. Trump suggested withholding federal aid for California wildfire recovery and said the solution was to “clean” the “floors” of the forest.
#75. Trump pulled out of the Iran deal, placing Iran on a path to developing nuclear weapons.
Honestly, there’s so much more, from exchanging “love letters” with North Korea’s brutal dictator to publicly denigrating a Gold Star military widow and making her cry, to the way he attacked journalists, to late night tweet binges.
Look, I can understand why a lot of people want to block all of this out of their memories. But we cannot afford to forget just how terrible Trump’s time in the White House was for this nation.
And we sure as hell can’t afford to put him back there.
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jaehaeryshater · 2 months ago
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The King Come Over and his bride Ygritte Firekissed
art by : @shripscapi
Edited to add: I was hoping that people that did not like this ship could still appreciate the art as I gave them two separate pieces, but people have been coming into my inbox on all platforms, so let me encourage you to block the Jongritte and Ygritte tags on tumblr or twt, as well as me so you will not have to see it if this is you. I also would encourage you to create your own AU as it is very fun. My AU is based on Jon becoming King before leaving the Freefolk, so following his psychology as a character, Ygritte is his only choice as consort as long as she’s alive. You can make your own with Val if you want, but I do not owe anyone to pay for commissions of their preferred characters.
Look at my King dawg we’re definitely getting through the Wall!!!
For the last month and a half, I have been working closely with Liesl to design concepts for Jon as King Beyond the Wall and Ygritte as his Queen. Personally, I’m not invested at all in Jon becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms despite him being my favorite character. He’s not very connected with the South and I don’t feel that it’s his birth right or anything, even being the son of Rhaegar. I am significantly more interested in him becoming King in the North, but my interest in Freefolk culture has led me to be far more invested in the idea of him rejecting Southron society as a whole and becoming King Beyond the Wall (this isn’t necessarily mutually exclusive to being King in the North later on).
The motivation for Jon becoming King as opposed to Mance stems from a theory that has been around since AGOT has come out: that the Others will only treat with/negotiate with a Stark. In the prologue of AGOT, when the Others are speaking among themselves before killing the Watchmen, what if they were confirming with each other that Waymar Royce was not a Stark and that they could go ahead and kill him? All in all, it doesn’t really matter if this is true, but rather that this is a plausible rumor that could easily have been passed down among the Freefolk which could lead Mance to conclude that Jon as a leader would give the Freefolk the best chance of survival. It’s not very hard, at least in my opinion, to imagine an AU like this, since survival is the most important thing to the Freefolk during the events of ASOIAF. But is it plausible that under these circumstances that Jon would abandon his Night’s Watch vows? I think so if he can be led to believe that only Stark blood could defeat the Others, but that is not the only factor. Jon Snow is insecure about his bastard status, plain and simple. He’s always lived in the shadow of his Robb, though he loved him. He’s wanted Winterfell, though he didn’t want to nor had any intention to take it from Robb. But he’s known since he was a small boy that he could never Winterfell and that would never inherit anything because he was a bastard. Jon also has thoughts, at least in passing, that Ned loved Robb more than him. He perceives Ned as having been more proud of Robb, of looking at him differently than himself. He’s seemingly always believed this, but there is a sort of confirmation of Jon’s feelings when Ned allows him to join the Night’s Watch without much preparation on what the Watch is actually like. Fully me making assumptions here, not something Jon has explicitly thought, but it’s unlikely that Ned would have sent Bran off at 14 to the Watch without much warning of what it was like, had Bran not become paralyzed. While we never get this exact thought process from Jon, in my opinion it fits into his psychology and insecurity. All this to say, if Jon is offered to be a figurehead, King, a title equal to his brother, but without taking anything away from the Starks or from Robb, that would almost certainly scratch that itch in him. It would be of his own merit, and there would be people behind him that don’t care that he’s a bastard, don’t see him as less than, and are willing to accept him for who he is. Not to mention that it also lets him feel like a hero and as if he is saving something far more precious than himself. And it probably doesn’t hurt that he would be able to remain with Ygritte as well.
We know from the descriptions of Mance and Dalla, as well as from being told directly by the former, that the King and his wife dress like all the other Freefolk, in thick furs. While the Jon and Ygritte arts from above are not particularly ostentatious by Southron standards, they are in obvious contrast to how Mance and Dalla are dressed. My idea was that Jon, having lived South of the Wall in a Lord’s keep all of his life, brought his own ideas to the Freefolk and added a distinction between a King and all other men. Nothing like in King’s Landing, all changes are inspired by his experience at Winterfell. I tried to think of what was achievable by the Freefolk, that would be difficult enough that it can’t be easily replicated for everyone else, but also keeping in mind of what could be done relatively quickly seeing as the Freefolk are focused on migrating South and saving themselves from the Others. The cultures I took inspiration for the clothing from are the Byzantines, Russians, Incans, Aztecs, and Mongolians. I wanted more “open” and flowy clothing, as opposed to more closed off and excessively modest clothing of 1300-1500s Europe that most of Westeros is based off of. Ygritte is still wearing furs, but they are dyed and there is weirwood embroidery in symbolism of the Old Gods and flame embroidery to symbolize her being kissed by fire. Her jewelry are simply clay beads that have been powdered blue. I didn’t want to give her any jewels as I felt it would be too difficult for the Freefolk to cut them directly and just overall would be against the spirit of the Freefolk. However, getting the blue on the clay like that still would be expensive and take a lot of time. I tried to keep the main color scheme surrounding gray as obviously that’s House Stark’s color. Jon’s clothes are similarly nice, with my main concern being him looking intimidating. I want the furs around his shoulders to be black because I wanted to call back to his time in the Night’s Watch without him keeping his psychical cloak, because I’m sure the Freefolk would not want him to do that. The furs are massive and make his shoulders look far larger, in an effort to make him look more intimidating, especially on a battlefield or in negotiations. He also has weirwood embroidery and his sigil is on the front of his outfit (my original idea was for him to have a flag with his heraldry on it, in which case the sigil would have looked far different, with a full length direwolf). There’s a white wolf on one side and either a crow or eagle on the other side (up for interpretation, both are relevant to Jon and one is one of the animals that can be used a symbol of the Freefolk) and the flame in the middle to represent Ygritte, but also defeating the Others as fire is the way Jon originally tried combating them as a steward at the Wall. The sigil is more than about Jon, after all, as it’s for the entirety of House Whitewolf, the House he founds. I thought the name fit far more in to Freefolk culture than something like Whitestark or something along those lines. Ygritte was supposed to have sewn on the sigil herself, and was very adamant about it, and that is meant to be why the thread is uneven and more visible than it ought to be. She’s not very good at the craft!
As I indicated before, crowns are not something common to Freefolk. That would be something else Jon would implement. Ygritte’s crown is very much like a hat, very casual. The beads are nice but obtaining them wouldn’t be unheard of, and holly most likely would not be particularly hard to come by. The reason I gave her a crown with holly is that during Christmas in the Tudor period and even before during pagan celebrations, people would go out into the woods and find holly and ivy to decorate their houses with. Holly was a symbol of masculine energy and ivy feminine energy. If you found more holly, it was meant to indicate that the man would rule the household for the year, and if you found more ivy then the woman would rule the household in the coming year (this was a way to “tell the future” not a rule lol). I liked the holly better for Ygritte so I’m just saying the Freefolk had the opposite belief. Jon’s crown is made of weirwood, which was important to me as I feel like his connection the Old Gods is also important as it is something that him and Freefolk both use to guide them. It ties them together. That being said, a weirwood crown is often used for Bran so I did not want to use a design that was too similar to the one used for him. Bran’s weirwood crown usually is made of weirwood branches, however, and not weirwood bark or logs, so I feel like it’s different enough. The frozen weirwood sap, as far as I know, is also unique to this design. There’s also some ivy to parallel with Ygritte’s holly.
The remaining bits and bobs I wanted to explain are the blue rose and then the face paint. The blue rose is obviously something associated with Lyanna Stark, who is widely accepted to be the mother of Jon Snow. I originally wanted to give him a rose somewhere, whether he was holding it or it was in his embroidery, but I forgot to ask during sketching, and then it was too late. But Ygritte holding the blue rose isn’t just about Lyanna. It’s also about Bael the Bard, a most likely fictitious person (or at least, the tale is fictitious, though I personally choose to believe it’s real) that went South of the Wall posing as a bard. He impressed the Lord of Winterfell so much that he granted Bael anything he wished; all Bael asked for was the most beautiful flower in Winterfell. This was granted for him, but the next morning he had stolen the Lord of Winterfell’s only child, a girl, and had left the flower in her bed in her place. He hid in the crypt with her for a year and they had a son together. Bael eventually went back North of the Wall and eventually Winterfell, having no other heir, passed to Bael’s child. Under this story, Jon is descended from Ygritte’s idol (maybe idol is stretching it, but she really likes him), Bael the Bard. Not only him, but all the Freefolk including Ygritte, according to her story. Following the story’s premise, Jon also poses as Bael and Ygritte as Winterfell’s daughter, with Jon joining her home under false pretenses and “stealing her”, as she calls it. So the blue rose has significance regarding both the Starks and the Freefolk. The face paint is inspired by tattooing done by cultures indigenous to North America. Indigenous Americans are not the only groups to use facial tattooing, the Vikings were famous for it as well, but Viking facial tattooing had more patterns based on shapes rather than lines and dots. I didn’t like the shapes so much, but the chin tattoo was one was that observed in all sorts of different cultures. Usually the chin tattoos with the line were on women in indigenous America, but I found some on men in other outside cultures. The dots I didn’t see outside of Native American culture and the claw marks on Jon’s cheeks I found mainly among Vikings. Because these all are an amalgamation of different cultures, we did them as face paint instead of tattoos because it seemed disrespectful otherwise. Not enough research went into it to be a proper representation of any one culture so paint was a better bet than a permanent body modification that is sacred to a number of cultures. The only thing that was meant to be a tattoo was the chin tattoo, which like I said, actually is from an amalgamation of cultures. Among the Freefolk (in this AU), dots on the cheeks are widespread, one of cultural mainstays of their people, and are generally a sign of peace, whereas the claws are meant to look intimidating and is applied to look like blood (Ygritte applies it for Jon) and is specifically used for military leaders. I really wanted to drive home the point that the goal with Jon’s whole look is to look fearsome.
I have so much more to say about Jon as King Beyond the Wall, how he negotiates with the Wall, the different rules he sets in place, how he sets up being King as a hereditary title once his daughter Bael is born, etc etc, but then I’d be here all day and approximately one person total read through all this. Oops! Ask in my inbox if you have any questions because I would love love love to answer them. All in all, shripscapi (Liesl) is so talented and she worked incredibly hard for me. She was extremely accommodating and changed as much stuff as I wanted. She never complained about the million times I decided something was not quite right and she sent me so many updates. I would recommend working with her to just about anybody. It was very cool what she was able to achieve and I got it in time for the holidays so I can enjoy my winter themed pfp on twt. So thank you from the bottom of my heart Liesl, and I hope everyone showers her with compliments because she deserves it. I also hope that people that don’t enjoy Ygritte very much can still appreciate the art and the concept of Jon as King Beyond the Wall. Hopefully I’ve gotten across how much I love and care for these characters to a chronically online degree and nobody accuses me of mischaracterizing them because that would make me!!!! very sad!!!
Bonus Jon with weirwood leaves:
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monzamash · 2 months ago
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★ bargain bin — lando norris
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how the other half lives lando norris x older!reader rating — 18+ (sex, coarse language, age gap) —requested by lovely anon, thank you for the wonderful idea.
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"merry christmas… hello!" lando sang as he guided you through the wide open front door of his parents' home. 
the holiday festivities had already begun by the echo of christmas tunes filtering through the open plan along with the rich smell of a delicious home-cooked lunch inviting you in. 
“we’re in here, love!” his mum sang back from down the hallway, every step getting you closer to all the cheerful voices melding into a sound of pure joy. 
that sound truly summed up lando’s family. they were joy personified. you had met them a couple of times in passing, mostly at races or whenever lando had a formal event to attend. they were always by his side, supporting and cheering him on and you adored how much they loved their son. 
you hadn’t been to their home, lando's childhood home. of course you wondered what it would look like, curious to know how the man you had fallen in love with grew up. the two of you were from vastly different backgrounds but all was fair in love and war, no preconceived notions or judgements — only mutual respect and a connection that couldn't be ignored. but you were curious to know how the other half lived, failing to suppress a giggle when you bypassed the study. 
"golden boy," you whispered, pointing to the small shrine dedicated to lando and his career that was set up in what looked to be his father’s office, earning yourself a gentle shove.
"oh god… that's embarrassing," he muttered quietly with a smirk as you took a couple of strides in, running your fingers over the karting trophies all lined up in a perfect row.
“it’s cute. they’re so proud of you.”
all lando could do was smile and hide his blush. he was the twinkle in their eye and all you wanted was for them to like you. 
your relationship with lando was somewhat untraditional, being five years his senior. age is nothing but a number, he had said when you first met through mutual friends on a holiday in mallorca, the connection between the two of you growing instantaneously. he was the charming brit that your friends had warned you about, single and destined to fall head over heels for you — and he did. lando couldn’t believe his luck when you waltzed into the villa, a sight for sore eyes and a smile that made his heart clench with something resembling love. 
the age difference wasn’t a problem at first, most of his friends were older so it made sense that he would blend into the group without a second glance. it wasn’t until the perfect spanish bubble burst and you found yourself cuddled up in his arms, reuniting after a couple of weeks apart and feeling the weight of it all on your shoulders. his life was chaotic, an excuse to be perpetually young — adrenaline filled and without real life responsibilities. 
“i just don’t want you to get sick of me because i have a 9-5 job and a mortgage. it’s boring adult stuff that gets me down and you're doing what every kid dreams of. we’re from very different worlds — god, what would your parents think of you dating a 30 year old…” you’d barely taken a breath when lando rested his hand on your cheek with a sigh. 
“there’s a reason why our worlds collided and i wanna know where it takes us. i'm falling in love with you and i think you are too so let’s see what happens, yeah? plus, you’re like a dream girl to take him to the parents — they’re gonna love you.”
and from day forth, you put those fears behind you and focused on the beautiful moments happening right before your eyes. spending the holidays with lando and his family was a dream, all of the sleepless nights worrying about what they thought was wasted when all you needed to do was trust the man you loved.
“ah, my two favourite people,” lando’s father greeted as he bundled lando up in a hug and pulled you in next with a grin the size of the moon, “so uncle rodney is making cocktails and you can pop any presents under the tree in the living room — lando can show you.”
“thanks so much again for inviting me, adam,” you whispered, earning a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder, “of course, love — we’re glad you were able to join us.” 
lando clasped your hand and showed you the way. the house seemed to go on forever until finally spotting the biggest christmas tree you had ever seen, “wow.” 
“we go big in the norris household — not just with the tree,” he motioned towards the tower of presents, mostly labelled with his sweet niece's names.
"it’s so beautiful," you admired before kneeling down and carefully placing the presents you two bought under the tree, spending a little extra time inspecting the one that had a little card hanging off the side with your name scribbled in lando’s distinctive handwriting.
"oi, behave yourself," lando scolded playfully, catching you red-handed shaking the small box with a guilty smirk.
"what are you gonna do? tell on me?" you teased, peering up at him with puppy dog eyes and playfully poking at his hip. lando gently captured your wrist and helped you up from the floor before dragging you in close for a hug, "maybe you won't get your present from me now. how would you like that?" 
your face fell into a pout as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, "okay fine," you surrendered, rolling your eyes at lando’s triumphant grin. 
"hmm, that's what i thought, darling."
the norris clan were an absolute riot and lando was spot on with his prediction about everyone being too drunk to take any notice of the two of you. once everyone got their chance to chat to lando about racing and what was in store for the off-season, they went back to telling hysterical family stories and reminiscing about the old days. 
every time someone new told a story, you were blessed with a glimpse into the person lando was before you met him — all the little stories from his childhood and teen years really enriched the emotional side of your relationship and for the first time, it felt like both the physical and emotional sides had caught up with one another. you’d never felt emotionally closer and it solidified all of the feelings and conversations the two of you had been having lately. what did the future hold? where did you see yourselves in five years? so many of those questions fumbling around in your head were answered just by sitting and listening to his family. 
all you wanted was to feel like you and lando could happily spend the rest of your lives together and for the people closest to him to approve of that decision. the car ride home was quiet — lando humming the christmas song stuck in his head while you watched the twinkling city lights of london off in the distance.
"my parents really love you.”
you smiled to yourself while hanging your coat over the back of a kitchen stool, heart pumping a little fast than it was before.
“you think?”
lando nodded, smiling as he leaned against the counter in your shared apartment and admired the way your nose scrunched up, unsure of his genuinity. you were glowing under the warm christmas tree lights stretching up the walls, eyes sparkling with a glimmer of hope that his words were true. 
“i know they do. so do my sisters. and my brother… everyone loves you,” lando stepped forward and pressed your hips against the kitchen counter, sliding you easily up onto the surface. “—but i love you the most.” 
“love you the most too, baby.” you whispered before wrapping your legs and arms loosely around his body, pulling him in for a long awaited kiss. 
the two of you had been on your best behaviour all day, but seeing lando playing chasey with his nieces and making them laugh until their little faces were red made it really hard not to drag him to a quiet corner and beg for him to give you one of your own. he knew what you wanted, what you needed, making quick work of your underwear and skirting the thin material down your legs while you tugged on the buckle of his black belt. 
“so ready for me,” lando teased as his fingertips glided between your shaky thighs, embarrassingly easy if it weren’t for the fact he always had you like that. he fucking lived for having you dripping for him.
“mmm, need you to be ready for me too,” you played with a couple of quick strokes of his cock, earning a loud, raspy moan in your ear. it sent chills down your spine as he grasped your hand and took over, haphazardly lining himself up and nudging forward with a grunt.
“yes,” you whimpered, tightening your grip around lando’s shoulders as he lifted you slightly, guiding your hips in time with his, desperately chasing his high. 
“feels so fucking good,” he groaned into your mouth, as your head tilted back in pleasure. 
“lando?” you half moaned, half asked as his eyes squared with yours. “yeah?” 
“when do you think we should tell your parents that we’re trying to have a baby?” 
lando’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued to slide into you with a pace quicker than any fast lap he’d ever clocked, “fuck, baby,” he groaned, trying to hold his composure, “um, that’d be a long conversation about responsibility and marriage probably — they would want to meet your parents…” 
“are they super religious?” you were panting, lips only centimetres from his. 
“we have to stop talking about my parents while we’re… while this is happening,” lando groaned, face screwed up as he picked up the pace again —hips snapping deliciously in sync. 
“god, yeah, sorry, sorry!” you muttered, stifling a laugh as his hot breath washed over you in a chuckle. 
“lemme try and give you one before we start telling people, yeah?” he breathlessly whispered into your ear, pressing kisses along your collarbone with a smile, “you’re so bad…” 
you sighed, “i’m definitely on the naughty list this year.” 
“absolutely,” lando chuckled and gave you a soft kiss before getting to work on your ultimate christmas gift.
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a/n — soooo keen to keep adding to this little story. let me know what you think!! and thank you all so much for getting involved in the end of (f1) season sale. it has been so fun writing for you guys this past month and hopefully i will be able to finish it off over the next couple of weeks but this fic felt like the best way to say goodbye to the formula one season ✨
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thestuffedalligator · 2 months ago
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I want them to make a sequel to the Star Wars Holiday Special. I want it to be a very serious family drama about Chewbacca’s family, how he drifted apart from his wife to pursue space opera shenanigans in his shitty space Winnebago, how his relationship with his son Lumpy fell apart because yeah, Chewie, you were saving the galaxy, and we’re all very proud of you for that, but that doesn’t mean you were my dad. You were never here. Do you know what that did to mom? Do you know what that did to me??? Lumpy was raised by his mother and his grandfather and Saun Fucking Dann, the guy who was played by Art Fucking Carney in the holiday special, and Chewie might as well have been a fucking ghost the way the family talked about him. And when the war was over, did you come home? Did you settle with your Wookiee wife and be a Wookiee father and smoke your Wookiee pipe while reading the Wookiee newspaper. Of fucking course you didn’t you went off gallivanting through the stars again in your shitty space Winnebago with your shitty space roommate, because the idea of being still for even a fucking instant made you terrified. And I want a holiday special where all of this comes out when Chewie deigns to come home one year for Life Day.
And — and this is very important — I want all this family drama delivered through untranslated Shyriiwook. No subtitles no nothing just three hours of wookiees going “Aaaaaaargh ghhhhhrn gaaaaaar”
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obsesssedblerd · 3 months ago
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“Just give up, Fushiguro.” The tallest kid of the group says, crossing his arms over his chest and flashing Megumi a grin. “There’s five of us and only one of you. There’s no way you’d win.” On either side of the bully, four more kids snickered, practically salivating over the idea of outnumbering him. 
Megumi sighs irritatedly. This is why he hates staying after school. On one hand, he’d be the first one to greet Yuuji once he’s done with his sports practice, but on the other hand, he’d end up getting into more altercations since he’d made quite a bit of enemies at his school. Your face floats in his mind, along with you worriedly asking him to promise that he wouldn’t fight anymore. 
Suddenly, the leader’s smile drops, and the five of them take a couple of fearful steps back as their gazes drift upwards. Two tall shadows loom over Megumi, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s there. 
“Well, well,” Toji, his father, says with a lazy smile, then looks over at the man in his mid-twenties next to him. “Looks like you weren’t exaggerating after all. He really is fighting multiple students each time.” 
Satoru Gojo chuckles, then ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Told ya. And he hasn’t lost a single fight. However, anyone can tell that he’s holding back.” 
“Oh?” Toji raises a brow curiously, then taps his son’s shoulder. “That true? You’ve been holdin’ back?” 
Megumi turns around and meets his eyes. He nods once, and Toji gestures to the five kids. “Wanna stop?” 
The boy frowns. “I’ll get expelled.” 
“Trust me.” Satoru peers at him over his glasses, his blue eyes shining mischievously as he reassures him with his usual grin. “You won’t. Suguru’s already at the front desk taking care of it. I’ll head up there in a second to make sure everything’s going smoothly. Go on and handle it, kid.” 
His eyes widen slightly, and then he looks over at his father again. Toji’s scarred mouth lifts into a small, vicious smile, granting permission. “You heard your teacher.”
Megumi nods, faces the bullies with a similar smile, and cracks his knuckles.
“Hey there, Mrs. Fushiguro!” Satoru Gojo greets you when you walk into the school’s front office. Next to him, Suguru Geto gives you a friendly wave. “Picking up Tsumiki? Wow, you’re kinda early!” 
“Uh, yeah… What’re you two doing here? I know that Megumi is supposed to meet you both at Jujutsu Tech since Yuuji wanted to hang out after practice.” 
Satoru and Suguru laugh nervously, and you squint your eyes at them. Something’s up. “What did you two do this time?” You ask.
“...Nothing.” 
“Nothing at all!”
The doors to the principal’s office open, and you gasp loudly when you see five students sniffling as they walk out with their parents. All five of them were teary-eyed if not sobbing, bruised and holding ice packs to different parts of their bodies. Once they’ve left the school, you hear familiar voices. 
“Did you see how the last one ran?” Megumi snickers as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 
“Yup.” Toji laughs. “And you didn’t let him get far. That’s my boy! Let’s talk about how you tossed that one kid into the other and they hit the wall. Did Gojo teach you that one?” 
“Actually, I watched you handle—” Upon seeing you, Megumi stops in his tracks, and he gulps nervously. “Hi, Mom.” 
Toji’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, and Satoru clears his throat. “Let’s look at the bright side here. He won’t be expelled or even suspended! It’s like the whole thing didn’t happen.” 
You ignore them and sigh at the sight of Megumi’s reddened knuckles. “Didn’t I tell you that you shouldn’t fight anymore? Your hands—” 
“Are strong enough to take out multiple enemies,” Toji says, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “We’re very proud of him. Can you imagine what he’ll do when he starts curse-hunting? His training is paying off.” 
You glare at him. “That’s true, but don’t try and– Mm…” Your mind goes completely blank when your husband gently kisses you. Behind you, Toji gestures to the three of them to leave now. 
When you hear footsteps shuffling away and the door closing, you pull away from Toji’s mouth and whirl around, groaning when you see that your son and his two teachers are gone. You turn back around to face him, and he smiles charmingly. “This isn’t over,” you tell him. 
“I know, I know.” He kisses your forehead, then chuckles. “You can lecture me after we grab Tsumiki and go for ice cream.”
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willowed-wisp · 2 months ago
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könig as a dad (part three)[ könig ]
part one | part two
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AGES 10 - 14:
- These are what he dreaded the most. Where kids think they’re smartasses and get addicted to video games and other sources…
- But he’s presently surprised when your two sons are very polite in supermarkets.
- They’re tall and more mature women ask for them to get things from the higher shelves- he was a proud dad that day.
- There’s definitely a rivalry between the boys but a friendly one.
- They walk your daughter home everyday that König is away
- I think at this stage, König asks for more of a strategic position which means he doesn’t go into the field.
- And you thought you’d never see that day, not complaining that he was at home. The most he was at work in the city was half a day, returning to your bed and trying to make another baby (you swear he still has baby fever)
- Friends of the boys don’t believe the age difference between you and your husband, because somehow König still has a slight baby face… he looked in his late twenties when you met him (he was about late thirties) and you were in your mid-twenties.
- Your daughter says to her dad, “I want what you and mumma have,”
- “And what’s that? Three little ones?” He tickled under her chin, he cherished that smile every day of his life.
- “No… how you look at each other… love…”
- He is NOT open to the idea of her getting a partner- whoever they turn out to be- he doesn’t want his little mouse to grow up.
- Your boys are on the rugby team and your girl does cross-country and long distance running
- All physical capability taken from König, unless you’ve done sports in the past- then you bicker over who’s responsible
- He definitely enrolls the boys in martial arts…
- Then your daughter begs him to go, she wipes the floor with her brothers.
- Teaches all of your kids carpentry, and your eldest absolutely gels with it. It’s like second nature to him.
AGE 15-19
- No boys in the house, that’s König’s rule, you stand by it in some respects especially when she gets older.
- However, “Wouldn’t you have her talk to you about people rather than going behind our backs?”
- He contemplates the idea, “She is my little mouse…”
- “Little mouse is becoming big mouse, König… don’t push her away by being papa mouse…”
- The next day on the way to her track and field training, she turns to you, “What did you say to dad? He’s been going on about little mice and ‘little mice don’t push away papa mice…”
- You’re confused to say the least, “But he also said that I can have people round the house- as long as my doors open,” That sounded strange and unlike your husband.
- “That’s good… did he say anything else?”
- “He’s been asking me names and addresses…”
- Ahhh…
- “Don’t give him last names or addresses, honey…” You looked at her, face dreaded with guilt. “You already told him, didn’t you?”
- You turn the car around after dropping her off. And find König staking out a 16 year old’s house, “Sweetheart… what are you doing here?”
- “Don’t play innocent with me… we’re going home. No more of… THIS…”
- He did stop, but still did background checks… he’s allowed to do those (his own logic)
- Your daughter only brought a girl home, they would study and bake with each other in the kitchen.
- “It’s nice she has a friend…” Your husband was so clueless.
- His eldest son raised an eyebrow, knowing the truth… “Talk to her, dad…”
- That night when it was just the family, your little girl came out to König. She was crying, terrified that he wouldn’t accept it- being a bit older than her friends’ dads.
- But all he did was bring her into a bear hug, like her brothers had when she came out to them. König really didn’t care what she identified as, as long as she was happy… he’d be happy.
- As for your sons, König doesn’t want either joining the military. Luckily for him, neither does.
- Your youngest wants to go into teaching, and your eldest wants to become an engineer- taking on his dad’s numerical intelligence.
- He was much more relaxed when it came to dating for the boys. You had the talks with them, much too awkward for König to do himself.
- Your youngest son would become a father at 19… fully supported by you two.
- Part of König is glad he has a grandchild while he’s under a certain age and can run around. Treats the grandkids like his own children.
- Maybe make them cry unintentionally but that wears off.
König is so proud of the family you and him founded on a whim after being together only a year after you met.
————
masterlist
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thesiltverses · 6 months ago
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A very big thank you
I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:
Post-show life begins
For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.
I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.
I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)
Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.
I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 
I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.
All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.
There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.
Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.
So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.
What’s coming next, in rough order
#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.
Just one last word about endings
God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.
How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.
Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 
And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 
So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.
And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.
All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 
For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.
But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.
For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.
So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.
Thank you so much again, and speak soon.
Jon
*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.
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gghostwriter · 6 months ago
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Still Alive for My Lover
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: The four times Spencer brushes with death and the fifth time he's reborn to find his way back to you
Warning: angst with happy ending || [Part 2A of Death of a Love Affair; Part 2B is the sad ending]
A/n: I did a poll the other day on if I should post both different part 2s for Death of a Love Affair and posting both won so here is one of the endings--the happy one! I actually scrapped my first happy ending idea for this (I dreamt about this plot just the other night) so like a maniac, I wrote and edited it in one sitting. Also he has been through a lot so I had to choose scenes that I think would affect his psyche. Hope you enjoy!
Part one || Main masterlist || Part 2B
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The first time Death came close was during an Anthrax attack
In Spencer’s quest in solving the time sensitive and nation threatening case, he made a series of misjudgments that had led him to being exposed to the chemically engineered Anthrax.
During his months of adjusting back into being single and alone, he poured all that he could to his job. No longer were the cases viewed with a clear objective mind, they all became personal. Case distance from Virginia, where you were, meant nothing. He viewed each killer a threat to your existence. In the most convoluted way, this was him protecting and keeping you safe when he no longer could beside you. 
“Hey, Reid.” Garcia softly said.
“Reid, wow, no, uh—no witty Garcia greeting for me?” Spencer joked to try and lighten the mood.
She shakily exhaled her breath. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.” 
“Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?” His voice trailing off at the end.
“Anything.”
“I, uh-I know I can’t call my mom without uh—“ he cleared his throat. “Without alerting everyone at her hospital and I can’t call Y/N since—since it’s protocol and we broke up.”
She paused, nodding her head. “What do you need?”
“I-I need you to record messages for them, in case anything happens to me.”
“Oh, nothing’s going to happen to you,” she tried to be optimistic. “You’re gonna—brilliantly find out who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”
He sighed with a slight smile on his face. “I hope you’re right, but if you’re not, I just—I really want to make sure that they hear my voice.” 
“Ok, just give me a second.” The taps from her keyboard echoing in the background.
“Are you ready?” Spencer asked.
“Ready.”
“Hi, Mom. This is Spence. I just, um-I just really want you to know that I love you and—i need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.” His tone fluctuating from holding back tears. “Y/N, I know we broke up months ago but—I need you to know that I love you and that I’m sorry—” A shiver passed through his body, a sign of his fever escalating. “Sorry for pushing you down in my list of priorities—should have done better. I don’t resent you for leaving me and if—if this is my last message, I want you to know you’re one of the last things on my mind, Angel.” 
The thought of you finding out through the news that an FBI agent had died or worse, not finding out at all, sent him into a tailspin. You were a worrier and Spencer didn’t want you to question your judgement of breaking it off with him and drown in the not knowing, what ifs of it all. He wondered where you were at that very moment as he crept closer and closer to Death’s door. Were you wallowing still? Maybe out for brunch with your friends or a date—his breathing stuttered at the thought. He tried and failed to imagine you smiling at a faceless man in front of you, preening under your attention. Who wouldn’t? He shook his head as an effect to bring him back to the present.
The pause made Garcia panic. “Reid?”
“I-I gotta go.” 
Click.
***
The second time was when Maeve died
Spencer thought he was finally going to get it right with Maeve but it was false hope, his speculation far from the truth because Maeve—his second chance in love was dead, killed right before his very eyes. He loved her, truly did even without knowing what she looked like—not in the encompassing way he loved you, no, but Maeve still carved a space in his heart that was one filled by you. She was comfort and a healing balm for the pain of losing you.
He associated navigating life with you as something like entering a luscious forest. With you leading the way though the beautiful greenery and kind animals—a fairytale kind of love. But when you let go of his hand, the forest turned dark and the animals turned into monsters that haunt his every move. Maeve was a cabin in those woods, lighted and warm with a fireplace—a respite for his lost and terrified being. He knew what was out there but housed in her presence, he felt safe and believed himself ready to defend his newfound solace. He was wrong, the security was temporary. His shelter torn down and taken away, leaving him back out in the woods with no light or guiding star to see him through. 
Curling into himself on the floor beside his bed with ‘The Narrative of John Smith’, the copy that Maeve gifted, tucked to his chest, uncaring of the the pathogens that it can carry, a folded piece of paper under the dresser caught his eye. He stretched his hand, feeling the settled dust on its surface scatter, and pulled it into the light. Gingerly, he opened the yellowing sheet and found himself staring at your handwriting—a note that he had never seen before.
He once asked about your penchant for leaving hand written notes for him to find. You shrugged then and nonchalantly called it a treasure hunt for him to partake in. During the times passed, he’d encounter lingering, forgotten notes from you all over his apartment. In his cupboard, pushed in the dark recesses, in his rarely worn patterned coat, and slotted in between the books on his bookshelf. He thought he had found them all but here was one left unread as if it knew when to make its presence known. As if it knew that he needed a sliver of light to guide him home.
Spence,
I’m not sure if we met at the right time, but because we’re both here, let’s do our best and if there does come a time were we must part, know that I love you. I’ll love you enough until we meet again. 
His tears broke free from his battered walls and streamed down his face. He loved Maeve. He was thankful for the peace each phone call had given him and although his memory of each talk may fade into the back of his mind, the relief and emotion she had given him will linger in his chest. He slowly got up from his position and approached his beloved shelf. With one last look at his book, he slotted it within the nook and walked away.
His love for Maeve will always be there but he loved you too and he thinks he always will. And when sadness and grief comes to pull him back under in moments of weakness, he unfolds his talisman—the note—kept near his heart as a reminder. A reminder that he has loved, was loved, and is still loved. 
***
The third time was when he was shot in the neck
Fading in and out. 
In—liquid seeping into his shirt and tie.
You were the only thing he could think of. Not the case, not the team, only you.
Out—sirens blaring in a distant background.
In—Morgan’s voice calling his name.
For the first time in a long time, Spencer was terrified. He was so terrified that death had come to collect his borrowed life without having a chance to right his wrongs. Without any contact and without any way to say how much he has loved you still after all these years and months. He could probably recite how long it had been, if only he wasn’t loopy from the pain. 
Out—muffled voices all around him. 
In—a gentle sway in the ambulance as it rushed to the hospital.
He wanted to tell you how much he’d learned from recalling all his memories with you. How much you had taught him about love—a teaching he could never find in books. How love was selfless and tenacious—just like when you didn’t give up on him early on—when it needed to be. How love is fueled with respect—like how you respected his choices and demands of his career, and how love—true love, knew when it’s time to go. 
Out—streak of bright lights passing him by. 
In—professionals dressed in scrubs and white coats touching him. 
Your face was the only image settling behind his closed eyelids. He tried to remember the crinkle around your eyes when you smile, the scrunch of your nose when you laugh, or the he arch of your brows when you teased him but all were hazy, as if he was staring into a deep depth of water that rippled nonstop. All he could conjure up was your face with tears sliding down to your chin from the hurt he caused. He was deathly afraid that his last memory of you were in pain. 
Out—laying cold on the operating table.
All he could muster to repeat to himself as he faded under local anesthesia was your name. Like it was a mantra, a prayer, and his own personal saving grace. 
In—surrounded by beeping noises and fluffed pillows.
Mind still hazy when he came to, he sent a thank you to the stars. Grateful that Death was unsuccessful and to have been given an opportunity to correct his mistakes. Wishing that somehow, somewhere your paths and his would cross again and he could tell the story of all his adventures and yours, and how he has changed, hoping once again to be worthy of you.
***
The final time was during his stint in prison
He’s changed. In the dark forest you’ve left him behind, the once scared and hunted by monsters had become the hunter. The anger and agitation that simmered near the surface of his every waking moment was something he did not know how to accept. He was worried about the new him and how you’d perceive it. There were no signs of who he was before and during you. If he’d cross paths with you on the street, would you recognize him? He hoped so. Would you still accept him? He needed you to.
Along his long route back to you, he grew thorns and horns. He became decorated with wounds and scars. His talisman—your note—had aged, just like him, and had ripped along the folds. His once brilliant mind—now in a haze from trauma, memorized the words. It was your writing that grounded him while he was stuck in the cell of a mad woman’s making. The slants and loops studied and the grooves and indentations caressed with his calloused, bloody hands. 
He loved you still, very much so, but with his change, it had also mutated. What once was compared to a fairytale kind of love had now been smudged with darkness and desperation.
He felt lethal in his journey back to your embrace. Gone was the boy who felt remorse in shooting an unsub between the brows and replaced with the man who felt no qualms in killing should safety be threatened. He knew he had to talk to someone about the path his thinking had taken but instead, he entered his home with a single-minded purpose, walking straight to your side of the drawer and clutched another memento that will buoy him through the ravaging waters of emotion—your engagement ring. Looping it through a chain that he now wears on his neck and near his heart, a symbolism of his will to see things through, come hell or high water, he’ll crawl home to you.
***
And his second life started when he left the BAU
Spencer wanted to see you. Once inside the building elevator going down, he fought the urge to dial your number—regardless if it was still even yours. He needed to know. To know if you’ve moved on after all those many years apart or lived just like he did—tried but unsuccessful, always comparing and always coming up short. The eyes not as kind as yours, the smile not as radiant, and the heart not as beautiful. Was it awful of him to wish for the former? Yes, yes it was. He knew you deserved happiness and support after all the times he had let you down, knew you deserved a life after him, knew you deserved a happy ending but here he was, hopelessly wishing that your happy ending was still with him. 
He didn’t keep up with your life as much as he wanted to. The wounds of his failure and the battle scars he received along the way were still fresh. He didn’t have the right to know—a self imposed punishment. Although Garcia offered to look into you whenever he would reach rock bottom, and he’s been there a lot, he refused. By returning your ring, the engagement ring hidden underneath his shirt, you’ve taken back his privilege and he respected your decision.
You deserve better than to have him contact you without his life in order. If you’d still have him, you’d get the best of him. And so for the past six months, he focused on himself. He gained his footing in teaching young agents, he worked on his anger and made progress with his therapist, and he got to know who he was again beyond being an FBI agent. And it was as if the stars took notice of the changes and decided to reward him.
It was late into the night when he decided to make a quick grocery trip for some perishables missing in his pantry. This was out of his normal routine and he was forever grateful to the impulsiveness that took over him that night ever since. It was what led him to cross paths with the only person he had once considered home—you.
As he was entering the store, you had come out in all your beauty, struggling with one bag in each hand. Whenever he would recall this story, you’d scoff and tell him that you didn’t feel beautiful then—hair in a sloppy bun, t-shirt all crumpled, and face bare from any makeup. He’d object as no matter what the circumstance, you were always the most beautiful to him. 
He cleared his throat then. “Y/N.”
“Spencer,” you breathed out, surprise painting across your face.
“Do you need help with that?” He asked, voice cracking at the end. He thought he outgrew his shyness, time in prison does that for a person, but here you were reverting him back to how he felt when he first met you. “I’d like to walk you back to your car, if that’s alright,” he added on as he was afraid of your refusal. The parking lot was dimly lit and almost deserted. Years of solving cases has made him hyper vigilante and even if he was technically no longer a fed, his experience stayed the same. He still wanted to make sure you were safe, after all the time away.
You hesitated before nodding once in agreement. 
He smiled, letting go of his breath he didn’t know he was holding, and reached out to take your grocery purchases. “Let me get these for you, lead the way.”
The silence was uncomfortable. Years of being away from each other has made him a stranger to you and you to him.
You crossed yours arms, a sign of defense, before clearing your throat. “How’s the team?”
He pressed his lips into a straight line, not wanting to spill every little change that has happened while you were gone. “Good, good.”
Silence.
“No case tonight?”
“Uh—I only consult now,” he explained. “I went into teaching.”
Your arms dropped, a sign of openness, and you peered at him. “That’s—different. I mean, are you happy about that?”
He laughed and almost felt like preening at the care that you still had for him. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a normal schedule for once.”
“Somehow normal and you being mixed together doesn’t compute in my head,” you teased, swinging your hands in a clear sign of nervousness. He felt good—glad that he still could read your tics. How the slight downturn of your eyebrow meant you’d table the information to ruminate on it later. How the little bounce on your walk, that wasn’t there earlier, meant you were accepting of this situation. And how you slightly shifted closer to him meant you find his presence a protector. 
As he was documenting each non-verbal cues into his memory, the back of your hand brushed with his, sending a jolt of electric charge. It was as if both your bodies needed a physical reminder that the other half is back and nearby. It was as if a defibrillator had charged his black and blue heart to life once again. 
You giggled. “Sorry about that.”
It was a cold night but each laughter wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, warming his weary bones that had been lost in the dark cold woods for so long. “It’s alright,” he stated as he watched you unlock the trunk of your car. 
Loading in your grocery in silence, he shuffled ever so slightly out of the way as you closed the trunk and rocked on your heels.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was the only way he could prevent his hands from reaching out and caressing your pink cheeks. He didn’t have the permission to touch you yet—not matter how much he wanted to. So wanted to.
“You look—you look great, by the way,” you stammered out.
“Thanks, you too—look great, I mean,” he stated. He wanted to sing out more praises on how you’d gotten more beautiful, more radiant, and more lovely but he settled on something simple lest he scares you away with the intensity of his feelings. “Do you think could have your number? You know, just in case you’d need help with groceries again.” A feeble excuse.
You smiled. The type of smile that was once reserved for him and he wished for it to still be his. Please don’t say no, please, he realized that if you do, that will be it. That there will no longer be any saving the tragedy between him and you.
As he was starting to slide down the familiar slope of sadness, you nodded. “I never changed it.” You unlocked the driver seat before facing him once again. “Spence—”
He basked in hearing you say his name.
“—I’m different now. So you’ll have to get to know me again.”
“I’m different now, too,” and while you uttered yours as if it was an apology or a forewarning, he uttered his as a promise. A veiled promise that he was now the man that you wanted him to be after all those years.
He reached his hand out. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he hoped you’d play along.
You laughed, clearly intrigued at changes that had happened to him. Here he was, a germaphobe, reaching for a handshake to a stranger regardless of pathogens. You weren’t really a stranger, not really, but he wanted to write a new beginning. The last time was too tragic and ended with goodbyes. This time, this time, it’ll be perfect, he vowed to himself. A perfect fairytale with a happy ending that he could share with his kids with you one day. 
“Hi, Spencer,” you reached out your hand into his, engulfing yours in his tight grip. “I’m Y/N.”
He watched as you got into the car, fastening your seatbelt and roll down the window. “I’ll call you.”
“Please do, I’ll be waiting,” you whispered out before backing away from the parking lot.
And he did.
And after a few dates, he slid back the ring that once hung around his neck, sitting near his heart, back to where it belonged—back to your fourth finger where the Romans once believed a vein ran directly to the heart. Vena Amoris, the vein of love. Where it will stay forevermore, never allowing time and the outside to separate what once was meant to be. Never allowing ‘him and you’ as separate, there was just ‘them’.
618 notes · View notes
cutielando · 11 months ago
Text
goals | o.p.
social media au
synopsis: in which everyone is jealous of your relationship
my masterlist
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liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,194,572 others
yourusername life lately 🩷 tagged: oscarpiastri
view all 391,724 comments
oscarpiastri ❤️
landonorris why are you doing this?
yourusername doing what?
landonorris making me feel single
yourusername you are single?🤔
landonorris ...not the point😠
logansargeant cute liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername
user1 they are too cute ❤️
nicolepiastri my children ❤️ i miss you guys
yourusername we miss you too, nicole ❤️
oscarpiastri we'll visit soon ❤️
mclaren 🧡 liked by oscarpiastri
lilymhe ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername ❤️
user2 our favorite grid couple ❤️
user3 we love y/n feeding us oscar content during the winter break 🥳🥳
yourusername i got your back 🫶🏻
user3 omg 😭😭
user4 will you come to more races next season? ❤️
yourusername i'm going to do my best to attend them all !! even though Oscar has offered to make me a full-time WAG, i do love my job haha
user4 hahahaha we love Oscar😩
landonorris you're welcome, btw
oscarpiastri for what?
landonorris i took all of these pictures when i was third-wheeling with your asses 😒
yourusername sounds like a you problem
landonorris you always bully me 😔
yourusername sucks to suck
user5 seeing Y/N and Lando bicker like siblings is my favorite thing 😭
user4 fr, they get along so well and i'm sure it's making Oscar's experience more enjoyable and easier because of that
user3 it's amazing to see how much she supports him though
user4 i know, she's been with him for a long time. it’s cute to see how proud she is of him 🥹
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liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 1,824,715 others
oscarpiastri back to work, always with me💗 tagged: yourusername
view all 417,583 comments
yourusername always ❤️
oscarpiastri ❤️
landonorris wasn’t i third-wheeling enough during the break?
yourusername you’re the one tagging along
oscarpiastri she has a point 🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris i like hanging out with you guys :(
yourusername then why are you complaining?
landonorris …i don’t know
nicolepiastri ❤️my beautiful son
oscarpiastri i miss you mum 🧡
nicolepiastri we’ll see you soon ❤️❤️
user1 i dream of having a relationship like their when i grow up 😩😩
user2 their love makes me believe in fairytales 💗💗
user3 how long have they been together?
user2 close to 3 years. they are childhood best friends as far as i know
user3 ooh, thank you. i was just wondering because they seem very happy together ❤️
logansargeant you never pay attention to me when she’s with you😭
oscarpiastri that’s not true
yourusername i’m just too cool 😎
logansargeant i don’t know about that
oscarpiastri watch it😠
yourusername my knight in shining armor 😩💗
alex_albon are you trying to be aesthetic?
yourusername we’re not trying, we already are
oscarpiastri i’m surprised you know what that is
alex_albon haha, funny
user4 forever thankful for these 2 🥲❤️❤️
user5 i want someone to love me like Oscar loves Y/N 😩😩😩🧡🧡🧡
user6 they are goals 🥹🥹🥲
yourusername has added to their story
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seen by 98K
caption: my outfit for today’s race 🧡
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liked by landonorris, mclaren and 1,927,481 others
yourusername proud doesn't even begin to describe how i feel 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri
view all 471,824 comments
oscarpiastri you were my lucky charm, couldn't have done it without you 🧡
yourusername you're gonna make me cry baby 😭😭😭😭
yourusername i love you so much🩷🩷🩷
oscarpiastri i love you more❤️
landonorris i was on the podium as well :(
yourusername i congratulated you too 🥹
landonorris but why does he get special treatment?
yourusername because he's my boyfriend...?
oscarpiastri watch it, mate
landonorris i was just saying :/
nicolepiastri 🧡🧡🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri
user1 he did so well for her 😭😭🧡
user2 i want a relationship like theirs 🫶🏻😍
user3 the way he looked at her when he was on the podium >>>
user2 i need someone to look at me like that 😩
user4 girl, same
georgerussell63 well done, mate! well deserved💪🏻
oscarpiastri thanks, george!
logansargeant making the Aussies proud, I see
yourusername he never disappoints
oscarpiastri not when i have you with me
logansargeant why do you always have to flirt in the comments?
yourusername we’re giving the people what they want to see
mclaren proud of you, Oscar! what a stellar weekend! 🧡
yourusername i love you, admin 🥹🧡
mclaren ilyt😉😉
oscarpiastri should i be concerned…?
landonorris they’re taking over. run for your life
yourusername 😒
yourusername you need to step up your game, babe
oscarpiastri are you seriously suggesting i’m losing you to the mclaren admin?
mclaren she’s not suggesting it, it’s already happening
oscarpiastri on it yourusername 🫡
lilymhe you were gorgeous, babe❤️❤️
yourusername i could say the same about you❤️
francisca.cgomes we stole the show
alex_albon ...
pierregasly ...
oscarpiastri ...
yourusername sorry boys
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liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 3,018,472 others
oscarpiastri we celebrated in style last night tagged: yourusername
view all 724,019 comments
yourusername yes we did 🥵🥵
oscarpiastri 😘🫶🏻
landonorris you two are disgusting
yourusername no, u
logansargeant i hope you used protection
oscarpiastri mate, wtf
yourusername don’t worry, eagle. we did
oscarpiastri babe, did you have to say it?
yourusername you know i had no choice
mclaren you’re not making our job any easier, y/n - PR
yourusername ooops 🤭
user1 Oscar is wilding man 😭😭
user2 this is the dirtiest post we’re gonna get from him and i’m here for it 💀
oscaaaaahpastry not y/n being scolded by McLaren 💀💀💀😭
lando.norrriiiiizzxxx imagine the PR nightmare she causes behind closed doors we don’t get to see 😭
user3 she’s a menace and i’m here for it 😉😉
user4 we love seeing Oscar being dirty 😩😩
yourusername same
user5 😭😭
user6 she is so unhinged and i love it 😭😭
landonorris atta boy
mclaren Lando, please, don’t make it worse 😭
oscarpiastri 🫢🤭
yourusername we’re sorry, McLaren admin :(
mclaren no, you’re not
yourusername no, we’re not
oscarpiastri we’re really not
maxverstappen1 these photos aren’t doing the night any justice…
yourusername 🤭
oscarpiastri you weren’t any better, shut up
maxverstappen1 🤐
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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I have an idea for the Grid Kiiiiiids. They all try to start teaching their sister to drive a kart 🥹 up to you how old she is when they start lol but you know Max and Charles especially want that girl in a kart ASAP
Grid Kids: Little Racer
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the grid kids can’t wait to take their sister karting
Series Masterlist
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Lando looks particularly proud as he rubs his hands together. “Alright, we got the best present for her. Trust us, she’s going to love it!”
George nods enthusiastically, “It’s honestly the best thing ever. A bit of an investment for her future, you know?”
Max, trying to hide a grin, chips in, “And it’ll give her a head start in racing.”
You raise an eyebrow suspiciously, “What did you boys do?”
Charles can barely contain his excitement. “Just open the garage and see!”
You slowly make your way to the garage with growing trepidation, the grid kids practically bouncing on their feet behind you. When you open the door, there, in all its glory, sits a shiny new kart, complete with racing stripes and a custom-made helmet with your daughter’s initials.
Your jaw drops. “She’s one! She can barely even walk! What is she going to do with a kart?”
Lance, looking a little defensive, offers up ideas, “Well, she can ... sit in it? Look cute? Take photos for Instagram?”
George chimes in, “It’s never too early to get them started, right? I mean, she’s got the genes for it.”
“Think of it as a ... decorative statement piece for now? Then, in a few years, she can actually use it,” Mick suggests.
You can’t help but chuckle at their over-the-top enthusiasm. “You guys ... she’ll probably be more interested in the cardboard box it came in than the actual kart itself right now.”
Lando pouts, “Well, when you put it like that ...”
You laugh, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift. But we’re going to have to save it for when she’s a bit older.”
Max smirks, “By a bit older, you mean like five, right?”
You shake your head, exasperated by your impressively stubborn sons but always grateful for how much they love their sister. “We’ll see.”
***
Four years later, the sound of shattering glass pierces the quiet night. In an instant, you’re on your feet, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner of your room. Sebastian, equally alarmed, snatches up a table lamp from his nightstand, wielding it like some sort of medieval weapon.
As you both stealthily approach the main room, you hear muffled whispers.
“Why did you have to step on the vase, Max!” George hisses.
“It was dark! And Lando pushed me,” Max retorts defensively.
Lando protests, “Did not!”
You round the corner, brandishing your bat and glaring at the intruders. “What are you doing in here?”
The grid kids freeze like deer caught in headlights, Lando holding a giant Happy 5th Birthday balloon, Charles cradling a shiny new helmet, and Mick holding a small cake with five candles.
Max tries to salvage the situation with a sheepish grin, “Well, you did say she could start karting when she turned five. We just wanted to be the first to take her.”
Lance points to the clock on the wall that now reads 12:03 AM, “Technically, she’s five now.”
You sigh, lowering your bat, a smile slowly forming. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Sebastian chuckles as he puts the lamp down, “At least wait till morning. And next time, maybe use the door? You all have keys for a reason.”
Charles grins brightly, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lando glances at the broken vase and nudges a shard of ceramic with his toe. “Sorry about that. We’ll get you a new one.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “Just ... go home. We’ll see you at a more reasonable hour.”
Mick winks with a cheeky smile, “How about 7 AM? Sounds reasonable to me.”
You groan, ushering them out. “Go, before I change my mind about the karting!”
As the door closes behind them, you and Sebastian share a laugh. The grid kids never fail to bring some chaos into your lives.
***
The morning sun is just starting to peek through the curtains when you hear the soft hum of engines outside your window. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance at the clock. 6:57 AM. “Seriously?” You mutter under your breath.
The doorbell rings and the soft hum now sounds suspiciously like the familiar excited murmurs of multiple voices.
You throw on a robe and head downstairs, opening the door to find the grid kids, all in their race suits, clustered on your front porch. Behind them, a trailer holds the tiny kart, polished to a shine and adorned with a large bow.
Max declares, “Told you we’d be back!”
Charles holds out a tray of coffee, “We brought reinforcements.”
George steps forward, a picnic basket in hand. “And breakfast! We figured that after all the excitement, you might be hungry.”
Lando bounces like a hyperactive puppy. “So, is she ready? We’ve got the whole day planned out!”
Sebastian, now also at the door in his pajamas, chuckles, “Let the poor girl wake up first.”
Mick is holding a small helmet and gloves. “We’ve got everything she needs.”
“We even have a little race suit for her.” Lance shows off the preschooler-sized suit, complete with the German flag and her name. “We got it customized and everything!”
You can’t help but join in on their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just give us a minute to get her up and ready.”
The grid kids cheer, high-fiving each other.
As you head back inside, Sebastian wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You know, for a group of the most elite drivers in the world, they sure get excited about kiddie karting.”
You smile back, “That’s what makes it all the more special.”
***
You tiptoe into your daughter’s room, finding her sprawled out on the bed among a sea of stuffed animals. Sebastian follows closely behind, his excitement barely contained.
“You do the honors,” you whisper, motioning to the tiny alarm clock on her nightstand.
Sebastian nudges the clock and it lets out a soft rendition of a race car engine revving. Your daughter stirs, her little eyes slowly blinking open.
“Vroom vroom,” she murmurs drowsily, pushing herself up with a yawn.
“Morning, sunshine,” you greet, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Ready for your big day?”
She beams, “Karting day?”
Sebastian chuckles, “That’s right! And you’ve got a whole pit crew waiting for you downstairs.”
Her eyes widen in excitement, “Brothers are here?”
You nod, “Bright and early. They couldn’t wait.”
She practically jumps out of bed, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Downstairs, the grid kids are in a frenzy of activity, making last-minute checks on the kart, packing snacks, and discussing strategies.
“You sure she doesn’t need a quick racing line tutorial?” Lando asks, pointing at some scribbles on a whiteboard.
Max rolls his eyes, “She’s five, mate.”
“Exactly. The perfect age to start,” Lando retorts.
Your daughter giggles as Charles lifts her onto his shoulders, “Look at you, future world champ!”
George hands her a small helmet, “Safety first!”
She tries it on and it slips down half of her head.
“Maybe we’ll adjust that,” Mick chuckles, helping to resize the straps.
Once everything is packed and ready, the convoy sets off for the track. Your daughter, sandwiched between Lando and George, is treated to a hilariously exaggerated commentary of their drive.
“Watch that apex! Oh no, a dramatic overtake by that ... minivan?” Lando narrates, making your daughter giggle uncontrollably.
At the track, the grid kids swarm around, setting up the kart, unloading equipment, and securing the area.
Lance kneels in front of your daughter. “Now, remember, it’s all about having fun, okay? But also ... don’t crash.”
She giggles, “Okay, Lancey.”
Charles takes her hand, leading her to the kart. “Ready to hop in?”
She nods eagerly, and with a little help, she’s seated and ready.
With the helmet securely in place and the engine purring softly, she looks up at you and Sebastian with big, excited eyes.
“Remember, slow and steady,” you call out, giving her a thumbs-up.
She revs the engine, and under the watchful eyes of her brothers, begins to kart for the first time.
As she makes her way around the track, the grid kids cheer raucously and even get a bit teary-eyed. The sight of the little kart zooming around, driven by your fearless daughter, is a memory none of you will forget.
When she finally finishes her laps and the engine dies down, the grid kids rush over, lifting her into the air in celebration.
Lando, panting from excitement as if he were the one driving, declares, “Best. Day. Ever!”
Your daughter is grinning from ear to ear. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Sebastian pulls you close as you watch your children make plans to kart together soon. “Looks like we’ve got another racer in the family.”
Your heart melts when you see the look of pure joy on your daughter’s face as she’s surrounded by her brothers. “Formula 1 better watch out.”
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charlesf1leclerc · 1 year ago
Note
For kuwtl can we do one with like friendship bracelets where the family or mum and kids makes friendship bracelets to give to the fans and it’ll be like a cute family bonding moment also absolutely love this series
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warnings: none
summary: Charles comes home to his two girls making some special gifts
It was a quiet Tuesday evening after school and the girls were in their play room while you were preparing dinner downstairs and Remy watched cartoons on the Tv.
The door to your house creaked and clicked as a key unlocked it and the door flew open revealing your husband, revealing Charles. He took his shoes of placing them into the cubby after shutting the door behind him before he made his way over into the open plan living room
Hearing the footsteps and the familiar sound of the door Remy perked up.
“Papa” he giggled and tan towards his father who bent down to pick him up and plant kisses all over his cheeks.
“Hello baby, I missed you” he laughed patting his sons head. Continuing to hold his son he walked over to you kissing you on the cheek. 
“ and I missed you” you leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips.
“Mm what’s this” he swiped his finger in the pasta sauce.
“Hey!” you smacked his hand
“ stay away from my sauce”
“Sorry just looks irresistible ” he laughed, “ where are my other two babies” he questioned as his put the youngest back down as he run off to continue watching his show almost as if he papa didn’t matter anymore.
“ in the playroom”
He nodded his head moving to walk up the staircase.
He pushed the door open to his two girls seated at the table in the middle of the colourful room. 
“Papa “ Sicily squeaked in delight.
Charles walked over to the girls giving them both a kiss and crouching down at the table next to them.
“ what are we doing my loves?” He asked stroking Indy’s hair. If you couldn’t tell Charles loved physical affection to all members of his family in the sense of hugs and kisses with his girls and more with you if you know what I mean.
“ we’re making bracelets “ Indy spoke
Charles looked at the assortment of beads and string out on the table and the few already made bracelets from each of the girls.
“ ah I see they’re very pretty”
“ there like your ones” Sicily explained 
“ the ones you get at race day papa” Indy went on further 
“ yes your right” he nodded
“ it’s not fair you get all the bracelets so we thought we would make some for you to take next race so you can share” Indy explained
“ that’s very thoughtful darling I’m sure they will love them, can I make one?”
“ sure papa” Sicily pushed the beads towards him.
The three of them continued on until dinner was ready making many bracelets in the meantime.
“ you must put them in your bag now papa so you don’t forget them” Sicily said as Indy collected them up handing them to their papa.
“ I will do it right now, you two go downstairs l be down in a minute” and with that the two girls ran towards the food.
Charles was proud to have such thoughtful daughters and creative ones two. He was proud of his whole family.
A/N: Thank you for the request I hope you liked it and it’s what you wanted. xx
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haveihitanerve · 6 months ago
Text
Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had been holding in a laugh for the past ten minutes, which was dangerous under any circumstances, and downright fatal if it was an explosive, loud and hearty laugh, which this one was. Especially considering that no one else seemed to be as tickled as he was, and if he did laugh, he would be laughing at the Batman. The thing was, that Batman had brought his own coffee mug and thermos to the Watchtower (because apparently their coffee wasn't good enough, or something, as batman hadn't exactly offered an explanation) and both had phrases on them that would be amusing belonging to anyone, and were downright hilarious due to the fact that they belonged to Batman. The thermos said “I’m not saying I’m Batman, I’m just saying you’ll never see me and Batman in the same room together” which, sadly, no one else seemed to have even looked twice at, and his mug, which had a large black bat on it, which said “We’re a Batty little family”. Both items were very much not helping Oliver to win his fight with his mirth, when Batman caught his eye. “Oh shit.” he muttered when the Bat began to move towards him. Well, he was bound to die anyway. “Nice mug.” Oliver greeted the second Batman got close. To his surprise, Batmans lips twitched upward. “Thank you. My children got it for me. I’m surprised you're the first to mention it.” Oliver looked at him in surprise. “Oh my freaking gods.” Batman, the Batman, wanted people to comment on his mug. He was proud of it. Oliver finally released his cackle, and Batmans smile grew marginally in delight. “Oh man that is priceless.” Oliver chuckled when he had finally gotten himself under control. “But hey, kids are like that. I mean, mine got me a shirt with two arrows pointing up, with a bow that was sideways beneath it to make a simile face.” Oliver sketched on his own shirt with his finger to display the image. Batman chuckled lightly. “Thats… quite funny.” “Yeah.” Oliver agreed, thinking back with a smile how often he wore it, and Roy’s delight every time. “My kids,” Batman added, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. “Got me a tie that says, uh, “Worlds Best Dad In Gotham. Which… o-k i guess..” Oliver stared at him agape before absolutely losing it at the tone with which Batman had quoted his tie. “That is… brilliant.” Oliver wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow.” Oliver smiled with relish. “I love that.” Batman smiled back. “I do too.” “Uh, green arrow? Whats so funny?” Green Lantern called over. “Oh nothing, nothing.” Oliver called back. “Just some uh.. Dad jokes.” Hal made a noise of confusion, but Batman chuckled lightly. “Dad jokes?” Green Lantern asked, utterly befuddled. Batman and Green Arrow grinned at each other.  
Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had a meeting in Gotham today, which was always long and boring, especially since he usually only dealt with the lower members of Wayne Enterprises. Not that he had anything against status, not really, it was only that they were always such a drag, and it was clear they wanted a higher lifestyle. But, to his surprise, when Oliver walked into the meeting room, the CEO of WE was actually present, sitting at the head of the table in deep discussion with a man Oliver vaguely remembered was named something Fox. Lucy? “Ah, Ollie, so good of you to meet with us!” Boomed a voice and Oliver turned in surprise to see Bruce Wayne. “Bruce? Hey man! I didn't know you’d be here!” Oliver grinned in surprised delight, offering the other man a quick hug. Bruce shrugged, sipping some coffee. “I’m just here as a chauffeur. I’m taking Timmy out after this, but I’ll be a part of the meeting if you want some decent conversation.” He winked and Oliver laughed. “Not that my son isn't a good conversationalist.” He added. Oliver waved a hand, moving to his seat and offering the kid a quick smile. Tim glanced over, offering a wave before returning to his heated debate. “Naw I know he is. Wasn't expecting you guys to be here. Glad you are though.” Oliver sighed in relief. Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat next to him. “Well I’m glad to see you too Ollie, theres, actually something I want to tell you.” At that, his son finally looked over for more than a second, something gleaming in his eyes. “Oh?” Oliver asked intrigued, leaning forward. That was when he saw it. Tucked just barely beneath the lapel of Bruces suit jacket…. A tie. A tie that said “Worlds Best Dad in Gotham. Which… O-k I guess..” Oliver sat back like electrocuted. Bruce and Tim watched him carefully, and Fox gave a very good impression of looking out the window. “You- uh- you're.” Oliver cleared his throat and Bruce leaned in intently. “Yes?” “Your tie.” Oliver blurted. “Its… nice. My friend has one too.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Does he?” He lifted his mug, which had a large black bat on it, and sipped. Oliver swallowed. “W-why me? Why now?” Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his son who was now also doing a very good job of admiring the ceiling tiles. “Because I trust you. And because I need a good friend.” Oliver smiled weakly. “Well, you already had that in Brucie.” Bruce smiled softly. “I know. But friendship requires trust. And Batman needs all the friends he can get.” Oliver chuckle lightly. “So… Dad jokes was the way to go huh?” Bruce smiled, pleased, leaning back. “Yep. Dad jokes.” Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen grinned at each other. 
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animeomegas · 2 years ago
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I wanted to ask if you can do a more in-depth, for Shikamaru in his obsession. Like, A more in-depth look at everyone’s reaction when they found out and a more in-depth look at how they treat each other. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I am obsessed with Shikamaru and his obsession
Hehe, I think lots of people love Shikamaru and his obsession~ I decided to write about what happens just after they met for the first time, hope you enjoy~
Omega!Shikamaru x Alpha!Reader
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Summary: Meeting his obsession at only age 5, Shikamaru is lucky enough to have his entire lifetime with his obsession at his side. Shikaku doesn't feel quite so lucky.
Word count: 1.25k
Warnings: None.
Shikaku didn’t know whether to be proud, irritated or resigned at the situation that had been suddenly dumped in his lap. The burn of your parents’ suspicious eyebrow raises had him leaning towards the latter two emotions, but the happy purrs his son was letting at his feet, massaging his baby Obsessions hands in his own, tipped the scale back towards proud.
He still couldn’t believe that his son, barely five years old, had already found his obsession. He had been dreading the day this happened, remembering the way his own father had had to reign him in when he fell for Yoshino, and anticipating an older Shikamaru giving him some good old-fashioned karma. But it happening this soon wasn’t something he had predicted, nor something he was ready for. Even in his worst-case imaginings, he had thought about a hormonal fifteen-year-old Shikamaru, never a five-year-old that had only just started learning how to control his emotions.
Shikaku sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. The whole situation was troublesome.
“I understand that this is shocking, it is a surprise to us as well, Naras rarely find their obsessions this young,” his wife explained to your parents.  He was so glad she was here to help him handle this. “But it isn’t something that can be taken back, nor something that can be stopped, so our best course of action is to figure out how we’re going to move forward.”
“This isn’t our first-time hearing about the Nara obsession instinct,” your mother said, seemingly the more relaxed one of your two parents, if the way your father was perched on the edge of the sofa like a tightly coiled spring was anything to go by. “But we had planned on only allowing sleepovers once they turned eight, so hearing about the expectation of sleepovers so suddenly isn’t easy to digest. I don’t understand why playdates can’t suffice.”
Shikaku tuned out Yoshino’s response, knowing that she would handle everything while ruffling as few feathers as possible. Well, provided your parents remained civil and open-minded. If they started demanding things that would hurt Shikamaru, Shikaku would have to pull her back before she decided violence was the best way to solve the problem. But seeing as the coast was clear for the moment, he turned his gaze towards his only son.
Shikamaru still had a tight grip on your hand, but his full attention was on your face now. He was leaning in just a little too close as you spoke, but you didn’t seem to mind. At least the silver lining was that Shikamaru had picked a relaxed baby alpha to obsess over.
“Your hair is very pretty,” you said quietly, a little smile on your face. “I like it.”
Furious purrs erupted from Shikamaru, his little face flushing in pride. Shikaku watched with amusement as Shikamaru immediately used his free hand to try and pull his hair out of his ponytail. His tiny fingers fumbled for a moment, but he eventually got it loose and yanked it out, pulling a few strands out along with it without so much as a flinch.
Shikaku remembered that feeling all too well, the way the desire to please Yoshino, make her happy with him, overshadowed everything else, even pain. When he first chose her, he would have been able to walk over a field of glass without flinching if he thought it would make her smile.
“You can touch it if you want,” Shikamaru said, practically vibrating with excitement as he leant his head forward, his now loose hair falling forwards towards you. “I don’t mind.”
“Wow, so soft!” you exclaimed, running your fingers through his hair. “Do you wash it with fairy dust?”
“No, just shampoo, but I also use conditioner,” Shikamaru announced proudly, pushing his head into your hand like a cat.
Shikaku smothered a snort. He imagined that Shikamaru would no longer roll his eyes and try to get out of using conditioner at bath time, something he was sure would delight his wife.
“We just can’t agree to that many nights with them away from home, away from us, they’re our child,” your mother said, just as Shikaku turned one ear back to the main conversation. “We might be able to divide the four nights in half though. We could have Shikamaru stay with us for two nights, but we’d need support navigating their relationship because we don’t know what’s normal or-“
Confident that things were going well enough that he wouldn’t have to restrain his wife, Shikaku turned back to his son and the baby alpha sitting on the floor beside him.
“Can I plait your hair, please?” you asked his son, still idly petting him.
Only yesterday, the same question had come from Ino, although the tone had been a little more demanding, and his son had rolled his eyes, refused, called Ino troublesome and gone to hide upstairs to take a nap.
His response now was like night and day. Shikaku watched his son’s face light up, his head bobbing up and down instantly.
“Yes, yes, whenever you want,” he said, falling over himself to turn around and present you with the back of his head. He scooted backwards until he was almost on your lap and then folded his hands together on his lap, waiting with barely contained excitable energy.
It was so strange seeing his son like this. He was used to his lazy petulance when face with chores, the competitive gleam in his eyes when they played shogi, his thinking face when he was presented a new puzzle or mystery, but this tidal wave of genuine, open affection and eagerness for companionship was something Shikaku had never seen.
“Thanks! You’re the best, Shika!” you said, separating his hair into three parts.
His son looked ready to ascend to a different plane of being.
This whole thing was a mess, Shikaku though, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t looking forward to the hundreds of tantrums he’d have to diffuse, the weird impulses he’d have to redirect or having to host another five-year-old in his house all the time. However, the pure happiness radiating off his son was more than worth all the bad. He was glad that Shikamaru would have his obsession with him for his entire life, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but hopefully Shikamaru would be used enough to his obsession and coping mechanisms that the hormonal nightmare of teenagerhood wouldn’t be so bad.
Shikaku gave the two children one more glance, vaguely amused to see Shikamaru silently mouthing ‘my alpha’ over and over again as you focused on plaiting his hair, before properly turning back to the conversation he was supposed to be a part of.
Everything would work out; he would make it so.
BONUS:
“Well, we should probably head off now,” your father said, standing up, holding the newly drawn up custody arrangement. “We’re having dinner with my parents tonight. Darling, time to leave, go and get your shoes on, please.”
“WHAT?! NO!”
“Here we go,” Shikaku sighed, trying to intercept Shikamaru before he got a hold on the baby alpha. Too late.
“Shikamaru, let go, they have to go home,” he said, kneeling down on the floor with them both.
“No!” his son whined, tears gathering on his water line. “They’re my alpha! Mine!”
“Shikamaru, that wasn’t a suggestion. Let them go.”
Shikamaru only growled at him, so Shikaku just started pulling him off you by the scruff.
“Shikamaru, stop struggling, stop- Ow! You little- He just bit me!”
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sofiawritesstuff · 6 months ago
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Platonic
part 10
summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader
warnings: none!!!
part 9
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It wasn't a long drive to Lando's childhood home, only about 40 minutes with traffic. You pulled up the stone drive, turning the loud music down.
"Home sweet home" Lando smiles, removing his hand from your legs “Is your mum home?” he hums, nodding his head taking his seatbelt off “Are you ready? You look nervous?”
“I am” you panic turning to him “Why? You’ve been here like a million times” he laughs taking your hand “Not when the pictures have been out, oh my god Lan she’s gonna hate me” you put your hands to your head
“Baby, look at me” he takes your hand from head “You are the last person in this world that my mum would ever hate. Yes, she’s definitely going to have some questions but we will just be honest with her and everyone else. They’ll understand”
“Okay, yeah. We will go in and answer any questions they have” you nod “I love you” he lifts your chin up with his finger “I love you too”
He kisses you, several times before you’re interrupted by a knock on the window “Who’s behind me” Lando sighs “Ollie” you press your lips together
“Hi” Lando smiles rolling down the window “Yeah hi are you two going to sit out here kissing the whole time or are you going to come inside?”
“Okay I’m going inside now” you sigh awkwardly opening the car door, Oliver walks on ahead into the house closing the door behind him “Not only do we have to face your mother with these pictures but we also have to face your brother”
“Let’s just go inside” he shakes his head, dragging your hand into the house “Mum!” he calls out
The familiar sounding footsteps rush towards the door, followed by another pair not far behind them. You’re greeted by both Cisca and Adam.
“Oh my babies!” Cisca smiles hugging Lando before hugging you “I’ve missed you so much, both of you”
“I’ve missed you too Mum” he says pulling away from Adam “Come in, make yourself comfortable. Adam has put the suitcases upstairs in your bedroom already. Have you both eaten?”
“We had lunch, just not dinner yet” Lando answering following his Mum into the living room “Perfect, I am making dinner. Your sisters will be here soon and Savannah is out with the girls”
“Sounds good.” he sits down on the sofa “How did your meeting go today honey?” Adam asks you sitting across from you and Lando
“Really good, we got everything caught up on everything we needed to and I’m actually getting a break for the triple header which will give us a chance to make a holiday out of Spain and Austria and all of us can spend time with everyone at Silverstone”
“That’s amazing, how’s the racing going Lan?” he turns to his son handing him a cup of coffee that Cisca brought for him “Very good Dad, very happy with how everything is going”
“We’re all very proud of you, very very proud” Cisca smiles proudly “Thanks Mum”
“Awh golden boy is doing Mummy proud” Oliver teases grabbing Lando’s face “Get off me” Lando slaps his hand away
“Stop it you two”
“Granny” Milas voice shouts through the house “Oh my goodness my babies” you quickly get up, rushing towards the door “Auntie Y/N” Mila squeals running towards you “Hi baby. I’ve missed you” you pick her up spinning her around
“No hugs for Uncle Lala?” Lando wraps his arm around your waist, stroking his nieces hair. She reachers out to him and he take her off of you
“Hi lovely” Sav smiles at you opening her arms “I’ve missed you so much” you squeeze her “Trust me, me too. Never marry a Norris”
“She doesn’t have another option” Lando interrupts “What if I did have another option?” you turn to face him “Nuh uh” he says childishly
“See what I mean” Sav nods to Lando “Yeah I’ve missed you too”
Within forty minutes Lando’s sisters arrived and you all sat around the dining table finishing eating dinner.
“Baby pass me the water please” Lando asks with his arm stretched out “Baby?” his sister Cisca asks with a laugh “Uh inside joke” you cover it up quickly, leaving the room to fall into the sound of cutlery tapping against the plates
“Are you staying here this week?” Flo asks you breaking the silence “Mhm, me and Lan are staying in his room”
“Okay, everyone Cisca and I need to talk to Lando and Y/N would you mind clearing from the table” Adam coughs, watching everyone clear the table
“Shit” Lando whispers to himself, looking at your leg that’s now bouncing “Relax”
“I know it’s not our place to put our noses into things but we need to know what it actually going on between you two. If you’re dating I’m going to be really hurt that I found out through social media and not my son or my girl” Cisca sighs
“We’re not dating” you say looking between them two
“Zak came to me, telling me that my image of being with a lot of different women is ruining my reputation and McLaren’s. They tried to set me up with this girl and I refused to do it. They said that I had to and that if I don’t want anyone that they choose then I can choose myself. The only person I could think of was Y/N” Lando explains
“What the fuck Lando” his dad says angrily “So you’re using Y/N? You’ve disappointed me this time. You have set this bad image for yourself that you’re using your best friend? The girl we look to as family?”
“Dad”
“No Lando” he stops him, leaving the table “Mum, please understand that this is the last thing that I wanted to do but she’s the only one that I trust okay and I just. I wouldn’t be doing this if Y/N wasn’t comfortable”
“Y/N?”
“You know that I would do absolutely anything for Lando, even if it means faking something with him. As Lando said it wouldn’t be happening if I wasn’t comfortable”
“I’m just confused, the nicknames? Sharing a bed?”
“I think that would have to be something Lando and I have to talk about, we won’t be able to give you and answer until we have one ourselves”
“Alright” she nods “Well Lando honey you better go talk to your father and also your siblings. They have just been as confused as us”
He agrees, getting up and leaving the table “I’ll help with dishes”
You gather all the plates and follow her into the kitchen loading up the dish washer, you’re in comfortable silence.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you what was going on, it should have came from us earlier”
“I wish that you just saw what we all saw” she sighs “And what’s that?”
“That you are both so hopelessly in love with each other, you’re the only girl that I want for my son. All these years I have had this feeling that you two are going to tell me that you got together. You’re perfect for him Y/N. I know when he says I love you he really means it” she tears up, you look at her. Tears filling your eyes too.
“I am in love with him. I’m so so so in love with him that every time we have something, every time that he holds my hand, kisses me, tell me that he loves me that he will tell me that he’s in love with me” you can’t help but let the tears fall from your eyes
“Awh Y/N” she hugs you and you sob ok her shoulder “I didn’t what to interrupt” the girls poke their head into the kitchen “My mum is right. You have always been my sister, always and one day I want you to officially be apart of my family” Flo smiles
“You have always been my sisters and I love you both so much”
“We love you too”
“Y/N. I’m so sorry love” Adam says coming into the kitchen “Adam, I promise you. I’m going to talk with Lando. We will set things right”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I promise you I am”
“Well you better go talk to him, he got pretty upset”
You nod heading upstairs to Lando’s bedroom, knocking on the door before entering “Well it’s been a while since we’ve been in here together” you smile, sitting on the bed next to him
“Yeah it has” he laughs resting his head on your shoulder “You okay pretty boy?” you run your hand through his hair “I don’t make you uncomfortable do I?”
“Never”
“Promise me” he holds up his pinky “I promise” you link your pinky with his, kissing them, he leans down kissing you pressing his forehead to yours
“Sav said something about a movie night together tonight. Do you want to go downstairs and join everyone?”
“Stay here for a while?” he asks moving his head to your chest, you lay down flat allowing Lando to get more comfortable, before you knew it you heard snores coming from Lando’s mouth
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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago
Note
Rick/reader/Daryl are a throuple and the Alexandria residents don’t know how to react.
.⋆。Her Poor Cat。⋆.
Daryl x plus size reader x Rick
Obviously the Alexandrians were pretty vanilla
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and smut, bit of a crack fic, humour, fluff
WC: 900
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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The welcome party was an interesting touch to the new-comers. It was so weirdly reminiscent of the old world with the nice clothes and good food and alcohol but at the same time, many in the room carried that haunted look in their eyes from the hell just outside the walls. But the food was fresh and the company was pleasant enough.
Carl had scrambled off a couple minutes ago, presumably to try and sneak some whiskey behind his father’s back, leaving you alone with a sleepy Judith perched on your wide hip. Her chunky hand tightly clutched at your shirt as her big blue eyes fluttered.
“Mama.” She muttered, nuzzling further into your hold. You gently cupped the back of her head and began to sway softly. 
“We’ll leave soon, just need to find your dads and make sure they don’t get into any trouble.” Your eyes skipped over the crowd but you were quickly stopped by someone coming up beside you.
“It’s so good to see healthy children during these times.” Deanna seemed less focused on you and more on the now half-asleep child in your arms, which you were incredibly grateful for considering that your poker face wasn’t as good as it used to be and she legitimately freaked you out.
Judith grumbled as you hitched her higher on your hip. “Judy is an easy baby, pretty much eats anything that gets put in front of her.” You chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“You and Rick must be very proud of your kids.” 
Your eyes widened. “Oh, it’s not-“
A strong arm was suddenly wrapped around your thick waist and you were tugged back into their hard stomach. The scent of cigarettes and motor oil filled your senses as Daryl’s lips brushed against your earlobe. You watched as Deanna went pale, obviously coming to her own conclusion about your relationship with the archer.
“I-I didn’t realise, given how affectionate you are with the kids, I thought Rick was your partner.” You could feel Daryl’s broad chest rumble with discontent.
“So what if he is?” The noise from the party faded away to a faint whisper as all eyes turned to you. Internally, you groaned, vowing to get some sort of revenge on your boyfriend.
“I’m sorry?” Deanna seemed genuinely confused but you knew that whatever was about to come out of Daryl’s mouth would not serve to lessen that feeling.
With your free hand, you dug your fingers into his hip, urging him to shut the hell up but like always, Daryl refused to listen. “So what if we’re both fucking her?”
And there it was. Your body sagged with embarrassment as heat raced up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. “You fucking asshole.” Your group all seemed to be holding back their laughter as the Alexandrians were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. You heard Carl groan loudly from somewhere behind you. “Not again.”
“Both of them?” Spencer materialised beside his mother, jaw practically on the floor. “At the same time?”
Just as Daryl’s mouth opened once more to very rudely answer the mayor’s son, Rick’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. His grip was light enough to appear friendly but the way his fingers curled into his collarbone kept the other man silent. “What Daryl meant to say is that we are all in a relationship together.”
You then made the mistake of making eye contact with Maggie and Carol who both seemed to be on the edge of suffocation as they desperately tried to stop giggling. You glared at the women and got back a rather rude gesture from Carol that restarted their laughter anew.
“I think I need to get Judy to bed.” You tried to pull away from Daryl’s grip but the stubborn man he was, he just held you tighter.
“How does that work?” The question came from a woman towards the back. You could practically feel Rick’s smirk as he cleared his throat but very quickly, another woman decided to answer for him.
“Obviously they take turns.” A murmur of agreement filled the room followed by- “Oh her poor vagina.” This makes Glenn snort into his drink.
With a horrified look on her face, Deanna spoke again. “This is highly inappropriate.” Yet no one seemed to hear her because someone else piped up.
“I can’t believe that she isn’t pregnant all the time.”
“I think that’s enough of that! Thank you all for the wonderful party, but we really should be going now.” Your voice boomed, starling Judith awake but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. Daryl went easily enough as your fingers clamped down on his wrist and you pulled him along, although there was a prideful smile on his lips.
But Rick had other ideas. “It’s not like we don’t try every chance we get.” Faster than you thought you were capable of, you dropped Daryl’s hand and your arm darted out, grabbing Rick’s ear with a force that made him visibly flinch.
“I said that’s enough.” You snarled and tugged him towards the front door, Daryl trailing close behind you. “Goodnight.” The door slammed shut behind you, leaving behind a room full of stunned Alexandrians and your friends who were all laughing loudly.
“Well, I guess that cleared that up.” Deanna murmured and took a long pull of her drink.
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