#for maximum effect I guess

[canisalbus]

I made them out of clay to turn into pins or something but just as I was about to finish, Maschete CRACKED

Kinda on brand for the poor guy

I’ll fix him soon lol

.

[ineffectualdemon]

Mushroom Shen is the best Shen because he loosens up and you really get to see what an idiotic madman he is

In the short time he's a mushroom man he:

Saves some cultivators

Nearly introduces himself as Shen Qingqiu and then instead of using his actual name calls himself his dumb dick joke internet handle

Beats up a bunch of demon

Internally debates running a business with them

Gets distracted thinking about demon names being nonsense

Imagines Luo Binghe being called Big Dick Haver

Laughs himself silly and then slaps his own face

All without saying anything outloud to the demons he beat up

Asks them if they have seen anyone uncommonly sexy (meaning Luo Binghe) and then sends them on their way

Runs into Sha Hualing

Trims her nails because he remembers her tearing up Binghe's back during sex and disapproves

Rescues Liu Qingge's little sister and personal disciple from Sha Hualing

Chastises Yang Yixuan for being straight

Realises Luo Binghe is coming and hoofs it away meeting up with Liu Mingyan and Yang Yixuan again to have a meal

Listens to gossip about himself so much he forgets to be watching out for Sha Hualing

Gets very angry that people think Luo Binghe would rape him when OBVIOUSLY if Luo Binghe came on to him he'd put out because it's Luo Binghe

Leaves Liu Qingge's people and immediately gets captured again but with Luo Binghe this time

Sees Luo Binghe have emotions about the fact he looks a lot like Shen Qingqiu so cuts some cloth off of Sha Hualing's clothes and makes himself a shitty mask

Gets caught in one of Binghe's dreams and immediately blows his cover but doesn't realise and has a crisis over Binghe being gay and for him specifically

Realises that Liu Qingge is fighting Luo Binghe and even though he knows this has been happening for five years he abandons escape and goes to help Liu Qingge and ends up playing hot potato with his own corpse and lets Liu Qingge take it

Sees Luo Binghe looking sad and only doesn't say "hey it's okay I'm your Shizun" because he gets kidnapped by snake boy

Has another dream with Luo Binghe and is like "well I guess doing gay stuff is fine if it's with Luo Binghe" despite his sexuality crisis because Luo Binghe is being pathetic

Demands whores from Snake boy

Listens to the prostitutes sing a song about him fucking his disciple even as he plans his escape from Snake boy

Leaves snake boy and walks straight into Luo Binghe's trap because he literally cannot walk away from Luo Binghe effectively

Finds out Luo Binghe was acting Pathetic on purpose in the dream to trick him

Punishes Luo Binghe by telling him to go away

Gets mad when he does as asked

Wrestle/flirts when he does show up to show he's still mad but also skinship

Dies again

He's at maximum bullshit at Mushroom Boy

[orangeblossomsintheair]

LIONHEART (2/3) – LN4

summary : lando's journey as a dad.

wc : 12k

an : lionheart was supposed to be a 2-parter but i hit the maximum wc for a post so i guess it's gonna have one more part 😭 not the most linear progression and not beta-read !

It had to be some kind of cosmic joke, you thought to yourself, the more you watched your son grow up.

Nine months of carrying him, swollen feet, back pain, cravings, and sleepless nights, only for him to come out as an exact replica of his father.

Had your genes even tried?

Your son was all Lando.

The wild mop of curls that defied gravity, his sun-kissed skin, that cheeky gap-toothed smile, and those bright aquamarine eyes that twinkled with mischief.

His resemblance to your husband was so uncanny that even Cisca, your mother-in-law, couldn’t stop commenting on it.

“It’s like going back in time,” she said one afternoon, watching your son dart around her garden, pretending to race with his toy car. “He’s exactly how Lando was at his age.”

She paused to chuckle. “And just as much of a handful.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you replied, sipping your tea with a tired smile. “I think the universe decided one Lando wasn’t enough, so now I’ve got two.”

Cisca patted your hand, laughing softly. “Well, you’re doing a wonderful job. Raising a mini Lando is no small feat, trust me.”

"Speaking of small," you quipped, watching your son determinedly try to drift his bulky toy car, tongue sticking out as he put his weight onto the steering wheel. "He’s just as tiny as his dad was, isn’t he?"

Cisca laughed, the sound warm and familiar as she watched her grandson’s antics. “Oh, absolutely. Lando was always the smallest in his class. It drove him mad. He’d come home every week asking me to measure him, convinced he’d finally grown an inch overnight.”

You snorted, imagining a pint-sized, gap-toothed Lando standing against a wall, demanding to see the ruler. “That sounds about right. Let me guess, he overcompensated by being the loudest kid in the room?”

Cisca nodded with a fond smile. “Loudest and most dramatic,” she added, her eyes twinkling. “He had this knack for turning every little scrape or fall into an Oscar-worthy performance.”

As if on cue, your son’s car lost its balance, and he tumbled to the ground, landing on his side but throwing his arms out dramatically.

“I crashed!” he wailed, flopping onto his back for full effect. “Someone call my pit crew!”

You buried your face in your hands with a groan, trying not to laugh, while Cisca chuckled beside you.

“And there it is. Just like his father.”

Lando chose that exact moment to walk into the garden, a drink in hand, eyebrows raised as he surveyed the scene. “What’s going on here?”

“Your mini-me just reenacted your entire childhood,” you replied, nodding toward your son, who was now lying in the grass, muttering something about needing new tires.

Your son immediately perked up, pointing at his completely intact toy car. “The wheel came off, and the engine’s making weird noises!”

Lando grinned, sauntering over and crouching down next to his son. “Alright, mate, what’s the damage?”

“Hm, sounds serious,” Lando said, nodding solemnly. “We’ll have to get you back in the garage. Can you make it?”

Your son nodded fiercely, throwing his arms around Lando’s neck as he scooped him up effortlessly. Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile.

—

Raising Lando Norris’s mini-me had been a chaotic blend of exhaustion, love, and endless laughter. From the moment your son came into the world, Lando had been there, fumbling his way into fatherhood with all the charm and clumsiness that only he could manage.

The first night at home was chaos.

Your son cried nonstop, his tiny lungs working overtime as the sound echoed through the house.

You were sprawled on the couch, clutching a pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to sanity. Every muscle in your body ached from exhaustion, and you could barely lift your head to look at Lando, who was pacing the living room.

“I’ve got this,” Lando announced confidently, his voice momentarily louder than the wails of your newborn.

He cradled your son in his arms, gently swaying back and forth. “Alright, buddy, what’s wrong? You hungry? Tired? Bored? Yeah, same, honestly.”

“Lando,” you groaned, muffled by the pillow, “he’s a baby, not a pit crew member.”

He ignored you, crouching slightly as he made exaggerated eye contact with your son. “Okay, listen, mate. I need some feedback here. Blink twice if you’re hungry. Cry louder if you’re overtired. Just... give me something to work with.”

Your son, predictably, kept crying, his tiny fists flailing in the air. Lando sighed dramatically. “Tough crowd. Alright, plan B.”

“Plan B?” you asked, lifting the pillow just enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

Without answering, Lando started bouncing lightly on his heels, his voice dropping into a soft hum.

At first, you couldn’t place the tune, but after a moment it hit you- he was humming the McLaren theme tune.

The one he used to play in the car after races, the one that made its way into every highlight reel.

“Are you seriously singing a racing anthem to our newborn?” you asked, your voice half-incredulous, half-amused.

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he replied, a teasing grin on his face. “Besides, it’s working.”

You blinked and realized, to your absolute shock, that Leo's cries were starting to fade. His tiny body relaxed slightly in Lando’s arms, the relentless wailing softening into hiccupping sobs.

“No way,” you muttered, sitting up straighter. “Are you some kind of baby whisperer now?”

Lando smirked, still swaying as he hummed softly to Leo. “What can I say? I’ve got a gift,” he said, casting a quick glance your way. “Or maybe it’s destiny. He’s clearly a McLaren fan already. Chip off the old block, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. “Destiny? You hummed one tune, and now you think he’s a fan for life?”

Lando shot you a playful grin, looking down at Leo, whose cries had softened into sleepy hiccups.

“See this? He’s calm now. That’s McLaren magic, love.” He paused, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “That’s right, little man. Team McLaren all the way. We’re a family of winners.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Don’t let your Uncle Carlos hear you say that. He’ll be over here with Ferrari onesies faster than you can say pit stop.”

Lando laughed, rocking Leo gently as the baby’s eyelids fluttered. “Nah, no way. Right, Leo?” He leaned down, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t let Uncle Carlos fool you. Red’s not your color, mate. Papaya suits you better.”

“Lando,” you groaned, trying not to laugh. “He’s a baby, not a brand ambassador. He doesn’t even know what colors are yet!”

Lando shrugged, grinning as he paced the room. “Doesn’t matter. He’s got taste. I mean, look at him- calm, collected, already understanding the importance of good engineering.”

You finally let out a laugh, unable to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re welcome,” he shot back, shifting his grip to hold the baby closer to his chest. “Seriously, though. I think I’ve found my secret weapon. Next time he cries, I’ll just sing him some F1 radio clips. Maybe a little ‘box, box, box’ to calm him down.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “I can’t believe this. Our baby is going to grow up thinking pit stops are a lullaby.”

“Could be worse,” Lando said with a shrug. “He could think Formula 1 isn’t the best sport in the world. Now that would be tragic.”

“Lando,” you deadpanned, “please don’t turn our child into a walking race encyclopedia before he can even walk.”

“No promises,” he replied cheekily, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead as he finally, miraculously, drifted off to sleep. “But for now, I’ll settle for a good night’s sleep. For all of us.”

You leaned back against the couch, watching Lando as he gently carried your son to the bassinet. He moved carefully, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world—and, of course, he was. As he laid the baby down and tiptoed back to you, his goofy grin made your heart swell.

“See?” he whispered, sliding onto the couch beside you. “I told you I’ve got this.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Alright, Dad of the Year. Just don’t forget to get me some water next time.”

He winked. “Coming right up, love. Anything else? Snack? Back massage? Pit crew?”

You threw the pillow at him, but you were laughing too hard to aim properly.

—-

The next night wasn’t much better, Leo seemed to have developed a personal vendetta against sleep, and you were convinced he had some kind of sixth sense that detected the exact moment you closed your eyes. The instant your head hit the pillow, his cries filled the room, pulling you out of the haze of near-sleep.

You groaned, rolling over to see Lando already sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel. He rubbed his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a pit crew strategy.

“I’ll get him,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Stay here.”

But you were already sitting up, determined to share the burden. “No, I’ll go. You did the heavy lifting last night.”

Lando turned, his expression softening despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “Love, you carried Leo for nine months. I’ve got this.”

“You said that last night,” you countered, though your voice lacked the strength to argue properly.

“And I delivered, didn’t I?” he shot back with a teasing grin, standing and heading toward the bassinet before you could protest further.

You flopped back onto the mattress, listening to the soft sounds from nursery next door as Lando picked up your son and began his now-signature routine: the light bouncing, the exaggerated baby talk, and, of course, the humming. This time, the tune wasn’t the McLaren theme, it was his radio message after his first win.

“Let’s gooooo,” he whispered dramatically, his voice soft and playful. “Who’s a little legend? You are. That’s right. Just like Dad, huh? Winning every battle, even the ones against sleep.”

From your spot on the bed, you couldn’t help but smile. His ridiculousness was oddly endearing, and somehow, it worked. The cries began to fade again, replaced by soft hiccups and the occasional sniffle.

Lando returned a few minutes later, cradling your now-snoozing baby with a triumphant expression. “Another successful pit stop,” he declared, easing onto the bed beside you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head.

“Thank you,” he replied, deadpan, as if you’d just complimented his driving skills.

You sat up, peeking over his shoulder at the peaceful little face nestled against his chest. “You know, if this whole racing thing doesn’t pan out, you might have a future as a baby whisperer.”

He snorted. “Racing will always pan out. But if not, maybe I’ll open a sleep training clinic for newborns. ‘Lando’s Lullabies,’ what do you think?”

You smacked his arm lightly, though you couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “I think you’re delusional from lack of sleep.”

“Probably,” he agreed, leaning his head against yours. “But hey, we’re surviving, right? That’s the real victory.”

You sighed, letting the warmth of his presence wrap around you. “Yeah. We’re surviving.”

“And thriving,” he added, glancing down at the baby. “Well, he’s thriving. We’re hanging by a thread, but that’s what parents do, right?”

“Right,” you murmured, the exhaustion temporarily eclipsed by a deep sense of gratitude. “We’ve got this.”

He grinned, his free arm pulling you close. “That’s the spirit, love. Now, go back to sleep. I’ll stay up a little longer, just in case.”

—-

(A few months later)

The weekend had finally arrived, and with it came a rare sense of relief as Lando’s parents pulled up to the house.

You were sitting on the couch with Leo cradled in your arms, his tiny fists wrapped around your finger.

Lando was sprawled next to you, his head resting on your shoulder, looking just as exhausted as you felt.

The door opened, and Lando's dad, Adam, stepped in first, his face lighting up the moment he saw Leo. “There’s my grandson! Hand him over, I’ve got this,” he said, already reaching out with eager arms.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not even a hello for us, Adam?”

“Hi, darling,” Adam replied quickly, flashing you a grin before focusing entirely on Leo. “Alright, little man. Granddad’s here. Let’s give your mum and dad a break, yeah?”

Lando’s mom, Cisca, followed closely behind, holding a casserole dish and a tote bag filled with who-knows-what. “And I’m here to make sure this house doesn’t fall apart. You two look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“We haven’t,” Lando said dramatically, sitting up and stretching. “Leo’s been practicing his lung capacity every night. Future Norris athlete in the making.”

“Alright, you two,” Cisca said, setting the bag down and clapping her hands. “You’re officially off duty. Go take a nap, watch a movie, do whatever it is you haven’t had the time to do. We’ve got this.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. The idea of a nap, an uninterrupted nap, was already making your body ache in anticipation.

“Sweetheart,” Cisca said, her voice softening as she placed a hand on your arm. “This is what family is for. You’re doing an amazing job, but even superheroes need a break. Let us help.”

Cicsa moved away with a smile, already pulling on a pair of cleaning gloves. “Anyway, I’ve raised two boys and managed Adam. This is a piece of cake.”

“Hey!” Adam called over, bouncing Leo gently. “I resent that.”

“You love it,” Cisca shot back with a wink before turning to you. “Now, shoo. “

You hesitated, glancing at Lando. “Are you sure? The house is a mess, and Leo’s been fussy all morning. I don’t want to dump everything on you two.”

“Nonsense,” Adam said, already bouncing Leo gently. “We’ve raised kids before, remember? This is nothing. Go.”

Lando grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You heard them. Free babysitters. Let’s not waste this golden opportunity.”

Cisca rolled her eyes fondly as she started tidying the living room, picking up stray baby toys and discarded blankets. “You two deserve a break. Parenting isn’t easy, and you’ve been doing a wonderful job. But everyone needs help sometimes.”

Reluctantly, you let Lando pull you off the couch, your body protesting every movement. “Okay, but if he gets hungry-”

“I know how to warm a bottle,” Cisca interrupted gently, her voice filled with warmth. “We’ll call you if we need anything. Now go.”

As Lando grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs, you couldn’t help but glance back. Adam was rocking Leo, humming softly, while Cisca was already organizing the clutter in the kitchen.

“They’ve got it,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And we’ve got each other.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I still feel a little guilty.”

“Don’t,” Lando said firmly, steering you toward the bedroom. “They want to help. And we need this. Just a couple of hours to recharge, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past few sleepless nights begin to fade. “Yeah. You’re right.”

The bedroom was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the sun, the kind of light that made everything feel just a little bit more peaceful.

For once, there was no crying, no laundry to fold, no bottles to sterilize. Downstairs, the gentle hum of Lando’s parents chatting with Leo filled the air, but up here, it was quiet. Blissfully quiet.

You lay sprawled on the bed, your limbs heavy with exhaustion but your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Lando lay beside you, his head propped up on his hand, watching you with a small, soft smile that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in days.

“What?” you asked, your voice a low murmur, too tired to even tease.

He shook his head, his curls falling into his eyes. “Nothing. Just looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, shifting closer so he could rest his hand lightly on your waist. “But I’m serious. I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

“I’m right here, Lando,” you said softly, though the words felt heavier than you meant them to. You knew what he meant. The chaos of parenthood had left little time for anything else, especially for moments like this.

“No, I mean…” He paused, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your shirt, tracing absent patterns. “I’ve missed us. The way we used to just… be, you know? Before all the crying and nappies and figuring out how to keep a tiny human alive.”

Your throat tightened a little at his words, the weight of guilt creeping in again. “I know. I’ve been so caught up in being a mom that I…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“That you forgot to just be you?” Lando offered, his voice gentle, no trace of judgment.

You nodded, blinking back the sudden sting in your eyes. “Yeah. That.”

He let out a soft sigh, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were looking at him. His eyes were earnest, filled with that boundless affection that you didn't know what to do with most of the time.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You’re an amazing mom. The best. But before you were Leo’s mom, you were you. The woman I fell in love with. The woman who lights up every room she walks into. And I don’t want you to lose her.”

“I don’t know how to do that, Lando,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I feel like all I am right now is tired and messy and just… not enough.”

His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “You are more than enough. You always have been, and you always will be.”

You tried to look away, the intensity of his words clawing at your throat, but he didn’t let you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “And you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he added, his voice taking on that familiar playful lilt. “Even with the spit-up stains and the messy bun.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Flatterer.”

“Not flattery. Just facts,” he insisted, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. Then your cheek. Then the tip of your nose. Each kiss was soft and slow, like he was trying to make you believe every word he said.

“Lando…”

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finally finding yours. The kiss was gentle, filled with a warmth that made your chest ache. It was a reminder, a promise, and a thank you all wrapped into one.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for Leo. For everything. For letting me do this life with you.”

Tears prickled at your eyes, but this time they were the good kind. “You don’t have to thank me, Lando. We’re in this together, remember?”

“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But I’m going to thank you anyway. Because you deserve it. And because I don’t say it enough.”

He pulled you closer then, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from every ounce of exhaustion and doubt you carried. For a moment, you let yourself melt into him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your hair. “And I love Leo. But I don’t ever want you to forget- you’re more than just a mom, yeah?”

—

The morning light streamed through the curtains, soft and golden, bathing the room in a peaceful glow. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you woke up feeling truly rested.

No cries echoing through the baby monitor, no bleary-eyed stumbles in the middle of the night. Just the warmth of the bed, the sound of birds chirping outside, and the gentle rise and fall of Lando’s chest as he lay beside you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you turned your head to find him already awake, his curls messy and his face relaxed in a way that made him look impossibly boyish. His eyes met yours, and a slow, lazy grin spread across his lips.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Did we really just sleep through the night?”

Lando stretched, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. "Looks like it," he whispered. "Feels illegal, honestly. Like we’re breaking some kind of parental code."

You let out a soft laugh, your hand instinctively resting on his chest. “I forgot what it feels like to be this… alive.”

“Same,” he said, his grin turning cheeky. “Although, I don’t think we should waste this newfound energy.”

Before you could reply, Lando leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was warm and slow at first, but quickly deepened into something more heated. His hand slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as his other hand tangled in your hair.

“Lando…” you mumbled against his lips, pulling back slightly. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he trailed kisses down your jaw and back to your mouth. “I’ve just missed kissing you like this. No interruptions, no spit-up, no baby monitor beeping at us..”

His lips captured yours again, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the world narrowing down to the warmth of his body and the way his hand slid up your side. But then reality came crashing back, and you pulled away just enough to mumble, “Lando, my body’s… not ready for anything. You know that, right?”

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow and looking at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Well, obviously. Don’t doubt my research, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Your research?”

“Yes, my research,” he said with mock seriousness, leaning back down to kiss you again. “I’m well-informed, thank you very much. And I know exactly what you need right now- just this.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hand cupping your cheek as if to prove his point.

“Just kissing,” he murmured between kisses. “No pressure, no expectations. I just want you.”

You sighed into the kiss, your hands finding their way into his messy curls. It had been so long since you’d felt this close to him, and it was intoxicating. The way he kissed you made you feel like you were the center of his universe, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice rough.

“Me too,” you admitted, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he spoke again, his voice lighter now. “So… what do you think about getting a cleaner?”

You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “A cleaner?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week. Give us a little breathing room with the chores. Time to, you know…” He smirked, leaning in to steal another quick kiss. “Do this more often.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible but practical,” he corrected, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at you properly. “Not full-time or anything. Just someone to help out a few days a week.“

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea of having some extra help was tempting, but you weren’t sure how you felt about leaving Leo with someone else, even for a few hours.

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “I don’t know, Lando. I mean, I love being with Leo. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“And you won’t,” he reassured you, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I feel like I should be able to handle everything. Like... isn’t that what moms are supposed to do?" you admitted.

"Hey," he said, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You’re already handling everything. And you’re doing it brilliantly. But there’s no rule that says you have to do it all alone. Asking for help doesn’t make you any less of an amazing mom. It just means you’re human."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "You really think it’s a good idea?"

"I do," he said firmly. "But only if it’s what you want. We’ll make it work either way. I just want to make sure you’re okay, love. That we’re okay.”

“Just think about it. No rush. No pressure. But if it means more mornings like this… it might be worth it.”

He kissed you again, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, your worries momentarily forgotten. For now, all that mattered was this moment, the two of you, together, with nothing else in the world but the warmth of his touch and the way he made you feel like you were still the most important thing in his life.

—

After some thought and plenty of conversations, you and Lando finally decided to hire someone.

It wasn’t a full-time helper, just someone to help around the house, take care of the cleaning, and keep things a little more organized.

You still handled all of Leo’s needs together, but the weight of the mess hanging around, making everything feel just a little more overwhelming, was finally lifted.

A few days of the cleaner settling in, things felt noticeably smoother. The house no longer looked like a war zone, and the chaos of being first-time parents seemed a little less overwhelming with the clutter finally under control.

One evening, after you’d finally gotten Leo to sleep and both of you had managed to survive a particularly difficult round of diaper duty, you and Lando flopped onto the couch.

He stretched out dramatically, groaning like he’d just completed a marathon.

“Okay, I don’t care what anyone says. Getting Leo to bed is like running a 5K.” Lando let out a deep sigh, making a show of rubbing his temples as if he’d just solved world peace.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Oh, please. You’re a Formula 1 driver. Getting a baby to sleep should be a walk in the park compared to dodging crashes and tight corners.”

Lando shot you a side-eye, his lips quirking into a teasing grin. “Pfft. Formula 1 doesn't prepare you for a baby that won’t stop crying. No amount of pit stops will save you from that chaos.”

“True,” you said with a chuckle, snuggling up against him. “But at least we’re not cleaning up a whole pit crew’s worth of mess every two hours anymore.”

Lando kissed the top of your head and sighed in contentment. “Thank God for that.”

—

Lando was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed as he gently held Leo in his arms. The baby’s little hands gripped onto his fingers, his tiny face still a little scrunched in concentration.

You were watching from the couch, feeling a quiet sense of joy as you observed the two of them, when it happened.

Leo, with a little puff of air, let out the tiniest, most uncoordinated gummy smile. It wasn’t much, just a small curve of his lips, but to Lando, it was everything.

Lando froze, eyes wide as his gaze locked onto Leo’s face. He blinked, then blinked again, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Did… did he just-” His voice cracked, and before he could finish, tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “He smiled at me. He smiled.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, watching as Lando’s expression shifted from disbelief to pure adoration. He looked down at Leo, his hand trembling as he brushed a lock of hair away from the baby’s face.

Leo cooed softly, clearly content, and gave him another gummy smile. That was it. Lando completely lost it.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “My son… my son smiled at me.”

Lando cradled Leo in his arms, his gaze fixed on the baby with a mixture of awe and absolute adoration. He swayed back and forth, humming softly under his breath, as though trying to coax some kind of miracle out of his little son.

"Mama’s turn now," Lando said in a voice full of tenderness, walking toward you with Leo facing you. "Smile at Mama, Leo!"

You leaned forward, your hands resting on your knees as you watched Lando’s every move, heart swelling. “You think he’s really going to smile on cue?”

“Just wait,” Lando said with a grin, gently bouncing Leo. "Look at Mama, little man. Show her your big, gummy smile!"

For a moment, there was only the soft sound of Lando’s voice, and then... it happened. Leo’s face scrunched up as he stared up at you with those big, innocent eyes. And then, like a flash of light, his lips curled up in the tiniest, most precious gummy smile.

You felt your heart explode. Without even thinking, you reached a hand to cover your mouth as a soft sob escaped. "Oh my God," you whispered, tears already brimming. "He smiled at me, Lando."

Both of you stared at Leo, the tiny bundle who had no idea he had just performed the greatest act of cuteness in the history of parenthood. He just blinked up at you both, totally clueless, his little hands batting in the air, completely unaware of the emotional chaos he’d triggered.

Lando’s voice was shaky as he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Look at him. He’s perfect. He’s ours. He smiled, love. He smiled!"

You were laughing and crying at the same time, shaking your head in disbelief. "I can’t. This is... too much."

Lando gently shifted Leo so that he was facing you both, as if presenting him to you like the greatest treasure. "See, buddy?" Lando whispered to Leo, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re gonna break hearts with that smile. Just like your mama."

You wiped away a tear, reaching out a hand to gently touch Leo’s tiny foot. "I can’t believe how much I love you two," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Lando was full-on crying now, unable to contain the tears as he held Leo to his chest again, taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know it was possible to love you more every day,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. “But then... he does that,” he gestured lazily at Leo, “and suddenly I love you both a thousand times more.”

You reached up to gently wipe a tear from his cheek, your hand trembling just slightly. "I know," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I love you both too."

Leo, completely unaware of the full emotional depth of the moment, simply gurgled in his sleep, his hands curling into fists, still smiling in his own little, clueless way.

You laughed softly, your voice still thick with emotion. "He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen."

"Yeah," Lando agreed, his voice still a little raw. "He’s perfect. And he’s ours. I didn’t know I could feel like this,” he said, choking on his words, his voice cracking even more. “I’m so proud. I’m just… so proud of him already.”

You got up from the couch, walking over to where Lando was, a small, amused smile playing on your lips. You kneeled beside him, brushing your hand gently against his arm. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

Lando wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his face flushed with both emotion and embarrassment. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said, looking at you through misty eyes. “This whole dad thing is gonna kill me. I can’t handle it.”

—

Lando was peacefully asleep on the couch, his arm draped lazily over his face, a soft snore escaping his lips as he lay on his back. Leo was nestled against his chest, his tiny hands swiping aimlessly as he slowly woke up, blinking his big eyes in the morning light.

You sat on the edge of the couch, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them. The sight was adorable- Lando, always so composed, now a soft, unguarded mess with your son lying on top of him. You leaned in to scoop Leo up for a cuddle, ready to give Lando a break from baby duty.

But just as you reached down to lift Leo, you froze. Leo’s tiny hand shot out, and in one swift move, he grabbed onto Lando’s nose with both little fists.

You stifled a laugh as Lando remained blissfully unaware, still deep in his sleep. Leo, on the other hand, was gripping his dad's nose like it was the most important thing in the world, his little fingers digging in as if holding onto a treasure.

You leaned over and tried to carefully pry Leo’s hand off his dad’s face, but Leo wasn't having any of it. His grip tightened, and he let out a soft giggle of his own, clearly delighted by his newfound power.

"No way, Leo," you whispered through your giggles. "Let go of Daddy’s nose."

But Leo just grinned and gave an enthusiastic tug, which only made you laugh harder. Lando, still unaware, snored a little louder, completely oblivious to the tiny assault on his nose.

You tried again to pull Leo away, but it was no use. Leo refused to let go. The more you tried, the more Leo seemed to cling to his dad’s nose with newfound determination.

"You little troublemaker," you giggled, your fingers now gently tickling Leo’s side in an attempt to distract him. "Daddy’s gonna wake up with a nose full of baby drool, and you're gonna be the one to blame."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of baby antics, Lando stirred slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked, clearly confused as to why he felt a strange sensation on his nose. He looked down, and his gaze immediately landed on Leo, still gripping his nose like it was the most important thing in the world.

Lando blinked a few times, his lips twitching into a smile. "Leo..." he said groggily, his voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing, buddy?"

You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, and you let out a full giggle. "He’s got you, Lando. He won’t let go."

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at Leo, who was grinning back at him, completely unaware of the trouble he’d caused. "Well, guess I’m stuck with this now, huh?" Lando chuckled, gently moving Leo’s tiny hand from his nose. “I guess I should be flattered.”

You leaned in to kiss Lando on the cheek, still giggling. "You should be. I think Leo just claimed you as his personal jungle gym."

Lando smiled, finally fully awake now, and carefully lifted Leo off his chest, giving him a small kiss on the forehead. "Guess he loves me more than I thought."

"Just wait until he starts grabbing your hair," you teased.

Lando laughed, giving Leo a soft, affectionate squeeze. "I’ll take it. It’s just another part of the adventure."

You watched the two of them, your heart full. “Yeah. Another adventure,” you agreed softly, feeling the warmth of your little family wrap around you.

—

It was one of those rare, quiet afternoons. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting a soft glow over the living room where you sat with Leo cradled in your arms. His tiny body was warm against yours, his head nestled just beneath your chin. You were humming softly, tracing little patterns on his back, lost in your own world.

But Leo? Leo was in his own universe and it revolved entirely around you.

He tilted his head back slightly, his wide, curious eyes locking onto your face like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

His little hands reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek. Every time you moved, even slightly, his gaze followed with a level of intensity that would’ve made a detective jealous.

“Hey there, buddy,” you whispered, smiling down at him. “What’s got you so mesmerized?”

Leo didn’t answer, of course. He just blinked at you, his big, gummy smile spreading across his face like sunshine breaking through clouds.

“Is it the song?” you teased, tilting your head. “Or are you just checking to see if I’m as tired as I feel?”

Lando walked in from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand, and froze when he saw the two of you. “Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice laced with awe. “He’s in love with you.”

You looked up, confused but amused. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at him!” Lando exclaimed, setting the glass down and gesturing dramatically toward Leo. “He’s completely starstruck. Like, I’m his dad, but apparently, you’re Beyoncé or something.”

You laughed softly, glancing back down at Leo. “He’s a baby, Lando. Babies just... stare.”

“Not like this,” Lando countered, crouching beside the couch to get a closer look. He waved a hand in front of Leo’s face, trying to catch his attention, but Leo didn’t even blink. His gaze stayed fixed on you, unwavering.

“See?” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t exist. You’re his whole world.”

“Well,” you said with a sly smile, “can you blame him?”

Lando laughed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Not even a little bit.”

Leo, as if sensing that his dad was stealing your attention, let out a little coo of protest. His tiny hand reached up again, this time gripping a strand of your hair.

“Oh, you’re possessive now, huh?” you teased, gently prying his fingers loose. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Lando watched the exchange with a grin, shaking his head. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

Leo giggled at you, a sound so pure and joyful that both you and Lando couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Well,” Lando said, sitting down beside you, “if he’s this obsessed with you now, just wait until he starts talking. First word’s gonna be ‘Mama’ for sure.”

You shrugged, smirking. “I mean, I am pretty great.”

“Understatement of the year,” Lando muttered, leaning in to kiss your temple.

Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his voice full of excitement, as if trying to join the conversation. You looked back down at him, your heart swelling.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, too.”

Leo responded with another gummy smile, and Lando groaned, clutching his chest.

“I’m gonna die,” he said dramatically. “He’s too cute. You’re too cute. I can’t handle this.”

You laughed, leaning into Lando’s side as the three of you basked in the warmth of the moment, your little family feeling more perfect than ever.

A few hours later and you were lounging on the couch, Leo nestled snugly against your chest. His tiny fingers clung to your shirt, his cheek resting against you as he babbled softly. You were exhausted but content, brushing a hand gently over his downy hair.

Lando appeared in the doorway, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and tousled. He grinned at the sight of the two of you, still where he had left you earlier to go running to get the workout his personal trainer required him. "Alright, mama. Your turn to rest," he said, striding over confidently. "Hand him over."

You chuckled softly, shifting slightly. "I don’t think he’s going to like that."

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando said, reaching for Leo. “Come on, buddy. Let’s give Mama a break. You’ve hogged her long enough.”

But as soon as Lando’s hands gently tried to lift Leo away, your son let out a whiny little wail, clutching at your shirt like his life depended on it. His face scrunched up, and he made a series of dramatic, pitiful noises, burying his head against you.

Lando froze, blinking at Leo in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- what’s this?”

You tried to hold back a laugh, rubbing Leo’s back soothingly. “I told you. He’s a mama’s boy right now.”

“Mama’s boy?” Lando repeated, his tone almost offended. “Leo, mate, you’re killing me here. What happened to our father-son bond? Remember? McLaren lullabies? Matching outfits? No?”

Leo let out another whimper and clung tighter, making it abundantly clear that no, he did not care about any of that right now.

“Unbelievable,” Lando muttered, dropping his hands to his hips. “You’re supposed to be my biggest fan, and you’re ditching me for her?”

“Can you blame him?” you teased, smiling up at Lando. “I mean, I did carry him for nine months. We’ve got history.”

Lando scoffed, sitting on the armrest of the couch, his arms crossed. “Alright, fine. I’ll just sit here and wait until he decides I’m worthy of his time again. No big deal.”

You laughed softly, adjusting Leo slightly so he could peek at his dad. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He loves you. He’s just... clingy today.”

Lando leaned in closer, his face inches from Leo’s. “Hey, buddy,” he said in a mock serious tone. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that? At least give me a smile or something.”

Leo peeked at him, his little mouth forming an ‘O’ as if considering it, but then he tucked his face back into your neck with a happy sigh.

“Wow,” Lando said, throwing his hands up. “Rejected. Completely rejected. I’m never going to recover from this.”

You reached out with your free hand, tugging playfully at Lando’s arm. “Oh, stop. You’ll get your turn when he’s in a dad mood.”

“When’s that gonna be? Next year?” Lando quipped, though his grin gave away that he wasn’t really upset.

You tilted your head, resting it against the couch. “Maybe when he starts talking. He might surprise you and say ‘Dada’ first.”

Lando’s face lit up at the idea, his competitive streak kicking in. “Oh, he better say ‘Dada’ first. Otherwise, I’m taking him to every Grand Prix until he changes his mind.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him fondly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. Then, after a beat, he pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s, earning himself a tiny, curious glance.

“See, Leo?” Lando said, grinning at his son. “I’m not so bad. Maybe next time, you’ll pick Dad, huh?”

Leo cooed softly, his tiny hand reaching out toward Lando’s face as if to placate him, and Lando laughed.

“Alright,” he said, standing back up. “You win this round, little guy. But don’t get too comfortable. Dad’s coming for you.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to Leo’s head as he settled contentedly against you. “I think we’re both lucky to have you, Lando. Even if he’s playing favorites today.”

Lando shot you a cheeky grin. “Damn right you’re lucky. Just wait until tomorrow. I’ll bring out the big guns- he won’t be able to resist.”

“Big guns?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” Lando said cryptically, heading toward the kitchen. “Just you wait, Mama’s boy.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head, as Leo cooed happily in your arms, blissfully unaware of the competition brewing between his parents.

—

The house was unusually quiet that evening, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.

You were finishing up the dishes when you noticed Lando sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. His hair was a mess from running his fingers through it, something he only did when he was stressed.

You dried your hands and walked over, sitting beside him.

Leo was already asleep in his crib, giving you both a rare moment of peace, but Lando’s usual lighthearted demeanor was absent.

"Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What’s on your mind?"

He sighed heavily, sitting back and looking at you with tired eyes. "Season’s starting back up soon."

You nodded. "I know. It’s what you love, though. You’ve been itching to get back out there."

"Yeah, I have," he admitted, but his voice was far from excited. "It’s just... different this time."

You tilted your head, encouraging him to continue.

"I don’t want to miss anything," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Leo’s growing so fast already, and what if I miss his first word? Or the first time he crawls? What if he forgets me when I’m gone too much? He’s so little, and I just... I don’t want him to feel like I’m not around."

Your heart broke a little at his words.

Lando was always so confident, but being a dad had softened him in ways you didn’t expect.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re not going to miss everything, Lando. We’re coming with you, remember?"

"I know," he said, wrapping an arm around you instinctively. "But it’s not the same. You’ll be in the hotel most of the time. I’ll be at the track all day. And then there’s the traveling, the media, the briefings... It’s not like I can just pop in whenever I want."

"You’re doing your best," you reassured him. "And that’s all that matters. Leo’s not going to forget you just because you’re working. He’s going to grow up knowing his dad is chasing his dreams."

"But he’s my dream too," Lando whispered, his voice cracking. "I love racing, but I love you and Leo more. And I don’t want either of you to feel like you’re second to anything."

You sat up and cupped his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Lando Norris, you are an amazing dad and an amazing partner. Racing doesn’t take away from that. If anything, it adds to it. You’re showing Leo what it means to work hard for something you’re passionate about. And no matter how busy things get, you always come back to us. That’s what he’ll remember."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he let out another sigh. "You’re way too good at this pep talk thing, you know."

You smiled. "Comes with the territory. Now, instead of worrying, why don’t you focus on the things you can do? Like making sure you get as much time with Leo as possible before you leave for Bahrain."

Lando nodded, his resolve strengthening. "You’re right. I’ll make every second count."

"We’ll be cheering you on," you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Always."

"Love you," he murmured, pulling you into his arms.

"We love you too," you whispered back, knowing that no matter how challenging the season ahead would be, you’d face it together.

—

The door to the hotel room creaked open, and you looked up from the couch where you sat with Leo perched on your lap.

The tension in Lando’s shoulders was evident as he stepped inside, his eyes shadowed with the weight of a race that hadn’t gone his way.

His hair was still damp from a quick post-race shower at the track, hoodie lazily thrown on.

He dropped his bag by the door and leaned against the wall for a moment, rubbing a hand down his face. You could see the frustration in every line of his posture, and your heart ached for him.

“Hey,” you called softly, trying not to wake Leo, who was already babbling quietly as he played with your fingers.

Lando’s eyes found yours, and just like that, some of the tension began to melt away. His gaze shifted to Leo, whose bright aquamarine eyes lit up the moment he saw his dad. Tiny hands waved enthusiastically, and Lando couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, mate,” he murmured, crossing the room to kneel beside you both. “You’ve been good for your mum?”

Leo giggled in response, his baby talk filling the room. Lando reached out to gently tickle his son’s belly, his earlier frustration slowly dissolving into soft chuckles as Leo squirmed and cooed.

“I missed you two,” Lando said quietly, his eyes meeting yours. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, then pressed a soft kiss to Leo’s chubby cheek. “Needed this more than I thought.”

Leo’s babbling grew more excited, and he suddenly clapped his hands before blurting out, “Buh! Buh! Buh! Booooox!”

Both you and Lando froze for a second, staring at each other in disbelief.

“Did he just-”

“Did he just say box box box?” you finished, already starting to laugh.

Lando’s jaw dropped before he burst into a mix of laughter and disbelief. “No way. His first words are box box box! Are you kidding me?!”

You were laughing so hard tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Oh my God, Lando. All that time spent listening to the race engineers is paying off! He’s already a little racer!”

Lando gently scooped Leo up, holding him high in the air as the baby giggled uncontrollably.

“Leo, mate, you’ve got the timing of a legend! First words straight out of a pit wall broadcast. Unbelievable!”

Leo’s babbling continued, his gummy smile stretching wide as he seemed to revel in the attention.

Lando pressed his forehead to Leo’s, his voice filled with affection. “You’re perfect, you know that? Absolute perfection. Even if you’ve cursed me to never hear the end of this from Uncle Max.”

You leaned over to kiss Lando’s cheek, your laughter settling into a warm smile. “Well, at least we know he’s paying attention during the races.”

Lando turned to look at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “You two make everything better, you know that? Worst race of my life, and here I am, happier than ever because of this little guy and his genius first words.”

“Buh-buh-buh!” Leo squealed again, reaching out to grab Lando’s nose.

“Yeah, yeah, box box box, I hear you, mate,” Lando said, his voice thick with laughter and adoration.

—

The moment came out of nowhere, as so many milestones do.

You were finishing up your nighttime skincare routine while Lando sat on the floor, trying to coax Leo to take a step.

Leo stood wobbling on his chubby little legs, his hands stretched out in front of him for balance.

“Come on, mate,” Lando encouraged, holding his arms out. “One step. Just one! You’ve got this.”

You looked up, a soft smile playing on your lips. “He’s been teasing you with this for weeks, hasn’t he?”

“Don’t jinx it!” Lando shot back with a grin, his eyes glued to Leo.

Leo’s face was scrunched in determination, his tongue poking out as if it helped his balance. Then, with the tiniest of shuffles, he lifted one foot and took a step.

“YES!” Lando’s shout nearly startled the poor baby into toppling over, but Leo took another step toward his dad, and then another, his arms swinging wildly for balance.

You gasped, nearly dropping the serum you were holding. “Oh my God, he’s doing it!”

Leo stumbled into Lando’s arms, laughing triumphantly as his dad scooped him up and spun him around. “That’s my boy! First steps! Did you see that, babe? He’s a natural.”

You were on your feet in an instant, rushing over to join them. “I saw it! Our little walker!”

Leo’s giggles turned into a proud little babble as Lando kissed the top of his head, his own grin so wide it looked like it might split his face.

Over the next few days, Leo was unstoppable. His clumsy little walk turned into a full-on mission to copy everything you and Lando did. If Lando was stretching, Leo mimicked him, though his version mostly involved falling over. When you bent down to pick something up, Leo would squat and then sit on his bottom like it was the same thing.

“Look at him!” Lando said one afternoon, watching as Leo tried to copy his dad tying his sneakers. “He’s like a little shadow. A very uncoordinated, very adorable shadow.”

Leo looked up at his dad with wide eyes, then toddled over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s leg, babbling nonsense.

“Aw, buddy, you’re killing me here,” Lando said, scooping him up. “You’re too cute. I can’t handle it.”

—

The sound of the private jet’s engines starting up hummed softly beneath your feet as you held Leo in your arms, walking down the narrow aisle towards the seats.

You could feel his tiny hand gripping your finger as you set him down on his feet, his little body still a bit unsteady as he tried to mimic your movements.

It was one of those moments that felt like time slowed down, as Leo tried to take a few wobbly steps toward Lando, who was already settled in his seat, grinning widely at his son.

“Come on, little man,” Lando called out, his voice light with amusement. “You can do it. Show mama how it’s done.”

You smiled at him, your heart swelling as you watched Leo try to imitate Lando’s movements, his knees wobbling slightly as he took another hesitant step forward.

The jet's gentle swaying seemed to make it harder, but Leo was determined. With every step he took, his little face lit up with the biggest grin, his wide eyes sparkling like he was proud of himself for trying.

“You’re a natural, Leo,” you said softly, helping him balance with your hand on his back. “Just like your dad.”

Leo looked up at you then, his smile widening before he reached for you.

He babbled excitedly, his voice higher-pitched and full of joy, and you laughed as you scooped him up, feeling his small arms wrap around your neck in a tight hug.

He was practically vibrating with happiness. You couldn’t help but melt into the feeling, his love so pure and contagious that it left you breathless.

“He really loves you,” Lando said with a grin, watching as Leo snuggled into your arms. “I think you might be his favorite.”

“Of course, I am,” you teased, pressing a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “He knows who takes care of him when he needs snacks, cuddles, and all the kisses.”

Leo giggled, his baby talk coming out in a string of adorable babbles as he snuggled closer to you. “Mama!” he squealed, his little voice bouncing off the walls of the plane, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“That’s right, buddy,” you whispered, looking at Lando with a playful smirk. “Mama’s got you.”

Lando laughed softly, clearly charmed by the scene.

You gently bounced Leo on your hip as you made your way to the seats. “It’s alright, babe. You’re still my number one, even if Leo’s stealing all the attention.”

Leo, sensing that he was the center of it all, let out a cheerful little giggle, reaching for Lando as if asking for his dad to hold him too.

“Okay, okay,” Lando laughed, scooting over and extending his arms. “You’ve made your point, little man.”

You handed Leo to Lando, watching as the two of them shared a moment. Leo rested his tiny head against his dad’s chest as Lando sat back in his seat, humming a soft tune to calm him down.

—

When Leo was still barely a year old, you and Lando found yourselves having the same conversation over and over.

You didn’t know if Leo would end up following in Lando’s footsteps or if he’d develop his own passions, but you both agreed that it was important to plan for his future- just in case.

Sitting together in the living room, watching Leo take wobbly steps across the floor, Lando turned to you with a smile. “I know we’re still a long way off, but... have you thought about what kind of school we want for Leo?”

You shrugged, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair from Leo’s forehead.

“It’s hard to say, isn’t it? He’s barely one, but I’ve been thinking about it too. I guess we can’t decide now, but I think it’s smart to start planning. I mean, who knows what his interests will be?”

Lando nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. He might not be into racing, or even sports. But I can’t help but think about the possibility of him wanting to do something like I did. I don’t want to push him, but...” His voice trailed off as he watched Leo take another shaky step.

“I know,” you said softly, smiling as Leo giggled and reached for you. “It’s hard not to think about it. I just want him to have the freedom to choose what he loves, even if that’s not racing.”

Lando’s expression softened. “Of course. But what if he does? I want to make sure he has options, you know? Like, if he’s into it, I’d love for him to have that foundation. But if he’s not... then I don’t want him to feel forced into it.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing how much racing meant to him. “I get it. It’s not just about racing, though. It’s about having choices. I think we should focus on giving him a well-rounded education, one that could adapt to whatever he wants to do. But I also think it’s important to keep in mind how we’ll handle it if he does decide to race, just in case.”

Lando sighed, watching Leo playfully crawl towards his toy car. “Yeah. Maybe we should start looking into schools that would allow for flexibility. That way, if he does want to race, it won’t interfere too much with his education.”

“Yeah,” you said, watching Leo’s face light up as he grabbed his toy and started pushing it across the floor. “And if he doesn’t want to race, we’ll make sure he has every opportunity to explore whatever else he’s passionate about.”

Lando grinned. “Whatever he ends up doing, I’ll be proud. Just... as long as he doesn’t bring me another toy car to fix. That’s my job.”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “I think he might just follow in your footsteps on that one.”

“Maybe. But for now, we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” Lando took your hand and squeezed it.

—

As you stepped into the paddock, Leo securely tucked in Lando’s arms, you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s attention turned to your little boy.

His bright orange McLaren headphones looked comically large on his head, his curls bouncing with every slight movement.

Despite the overwhelming sights and sounds, Leo’s aquamarine eyes darted around, wide with curiosity.

“Alright, little man,” Lando murmured, adjusting Leo’s jacket, complete with a tiny McLaren logo stitched on the chest. “This is where Dad works. Cool, right? Your dad’s a bit of a big deal here.”

You smirked as you walked beside them. “He’s modest too. Make sure you learn that, Leo.”

Lando turned to you, raising a brow. “What can I say? He should know the truth.” Then, looking at Leo, he grinned. “We’ll save the really cool stuff for when you can talk.”

One of the engineers wandered over, grinning. “Well, well, if it isn’t our new recruit. Welcome, Leo. Hope you’re ready to carry the team.”

Leo giggled at the commotion, clumsily reaching out toward the engineer’s shiny name badge.

“Watch out,” you warned, leaning away. “If it’s shiny, he’s going to grab it.”

“Just like his dad and a trophy,” the engineer quipped, dodging Leo’s little hands.

Leo’s delighted squeals made the whole team stop and stare for a moment, their smiles softening as he wriggled excitedly, his tiny hands grabbing at the air as if trying to reach for the brightly colored McLaren car parked nearby.

One of the mechanics leaned in with a smile, handing Leo a miniature wrench.

“For the next pit stop,” the mechanic joked. “Gotta train ‘em young!”

Leo grabbed the wrench with a look of awe, his gummy smile lighting up the entire garage.

“Careful,” Lando said, laughing. “You give him that, and he’s going to think he’s part of the crew.”

“Isn’t he already?” the team’s PR manager chimed in, snapping a photo of Lando and Leo. “This might be our cutest team member yet.”

“I’m telling you,” Lando said, looking around. “This kid’s already got star power. I give it, what, two years before Zak offers him a contract?”

“Let’s aim for potty training first,” you teased, running a hand through Leo’s curls. “Then he can talk strategy.”

Zak wandered over at that moment, his gaze flicking from Leo to Lando. “He’s stealing the show already, isn’t he?”

“Obviously,” Lando said, grinning. “Look at him! He’s got the McLaren spirit.”

Leo babbled loudly, throwing his arms in the air as if he were agreeing. Everyone laughed, and Lando looked at you, his expression softening for just a moment.

“You sure he’s not overwhelmed?” he asked quietly, his voice just for you.

You smiled, resting a hand on his arm. “He’s fine. He’s curious, just like someone else I know.”

Leo, now grabbing at the zipper on Lando’s race suit, interrupted the moment with a loud, joyful squeal.

“Alright, alright,” Lando said, laughing as he adjusted Leo. “You’re the boss, mate.”

After Lando handed Leo back to you, his bright orange headphones still perched comically on his tiny head, he knelt to Leo’s level one last time before heading to the car.

“Alright, buddy,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Leo’s curls. “Daddy’s going to go really fast now, okay? Cheer for me.”

Leo babbled something incomprehensible, his little hands reaching out to pat Lando’s face. Lando chuckled, leaning into the touch as if it were the best encouragement he could get.

“See? He already knows I’m winning,” Lando joked, standing and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Take care of my little number one fan.”

“We’ll be cheering from the best seats in the house,” you assured him, adjusting Leo on your hip. “Go make us proud.”

As Lando disappeared into the chaos of the garage, you carried Leo to the viewing area, a private box where you could watch the race without overwhelming him. The hum of engines roaring to life filled the air, and Leo’s eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight of the cars pulling out onto the track.

“Look, Leo,” you cooed, pointing toward the screen showing Lando’s car. “There’s Daddy. See the orange car? That’s him.”

Leo squirmed excitedly in your arms, babbling in response as if he understood. His tiny fists waved in the air, his gaze locked on the screen.

As the race began, you couldn’t help but glance between the screen and your son. His fascination was evident, his aquamarine eyes following the cars as they sped around the track.

Occasionally, he’d let out a squeal, clapping his hands together, and it made your heart swell.

“Is Daddy fast?” you asked playfully.

Leo responded with a delighted giggle, his curls bouncing as he nodded. Whether it was intentional or just random excitement, you weren’t sure, but it made you laugh anyway.

When Lando pulled off a daring overtake, you clapped softly, careful not to startle Leo. “See that, little man? That’s Daddy being awesome.”

Leo responded by slapping his chubby hands against your chest and squealing, his energy contagious.

By the time the race ended, Lando had finished in a respectable position—maybe not a podium, but enough to make you proud. As he approached the garage for post-race celebrations and interviews, you and Leo made your way down to meet him.

The moment Lando stepped into view, sweaty and slightly disheveled but glowing with the post-race adrenaline, Leo practically launched himself toward him, wiggling in your arms and reaching out.

“Alright, alright, mate!” Lando said, laughing as he took Leo from you, holding him close. “You watched me, huh? Did you see how cool I was?”

Leo responded with a string of babbles, his hands patting Lando’s cheeks and tugging at his race suit zipper again.

“He was your biggest fan,” you said, smiling at the sight of the two of them.

“Best fan I’ll ever have,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to Leo’s forehead before looking at you. “And my second best fan is pretty great, too.”

“Oh, I’m second now?” you teased, arching a brow.

“Technically tied,” Lando corrected with a grin, leaning in to kiss you briefly. “Best race ever. Thanks to you two.”

—

It was a sunny afternoon when Adam and Cisca arrived for their visit, the house buzzing with excitement as Leo toddled around, his tiny feet barely keeping up with his boundless energy.

You had been waiting for this moment, knowing how much both Lando’s parents were eager to hear their grandson say his first words to them.

“Cisca, Adam, we’ve been working on something special with Leo,” you said, a playful grin on your face. “I think he’s finally ready to impress you both.”

Cisca, who was sitting on the couch with Adam, leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, don’t tease us. What’s he going to do?”

You gave a small nod toward Leo, who was currently playing with his favorite toy car, completely oblivious to the attention he was about to receive.

Lando was beside him, giving a little encouragement.

“Leo,” Lando said softly, “can you say ‘Grandma’?”

For a moment, Leo just looked up at him, his big aquamarine eyes blinking as if he was deciding whether to humor his dad. Then, in a clear, albeit babyish voice, he uttered, “G-g-gra-ma!”

The room fell silent for a split second, before Cisca gasped and clapped her hands.

“He said it! He really said it!” Her eyes were wide with excitement, and she immediately reached for Leo, pulling him into her arms as she showered him with kisses.

Adam laughed, his arms crossed as he watched Cisca fawn over Leo. “Well, it looks like we have a new favorite around here.”

Cisca, still holding Leo, smiled warmly. “He’s a natural,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Lando grinned, clearly proud, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, buddy. Let’s see if you can do ‘Grandpa’ now.”

Leo’s face lit up at the challenge, and he looked up at Lando with a wide grin. “G-g-pa!” he said, a little clearer this time, as though he’d been practicing in secret.

Cisca and Adam both looked at each other in amazement before bursting into laughter. “He did it!”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching your son, so small yet already full of surprises.

Lando, beaming, scooped Leo into his arms, lifting him high in the air. “Good job, mate! You’re already a hit with the grandparents.”

As you all laughed and celebrated, you felt a warm sense of joy, knowing that these small moments were just the beginning.

Leo was growing up so quickly, and every new word was another step toward the amazing little person he was becoming.

And if there was any doubt that he was Lando’s son, it was quickly erased with that second, clearer “Grandpa.”

—

It was Lando’s home race, and the atmosphere was electric. The streets around the circuit buzzed with excitement as fans poured in to cheer on their favorite driver.

You, Lando, and Leo were all geared up for a day of racing, but there was an undeniable sense of extra energy in the air today.

It was Lando's moment to shine in front of his hometown crowd.

You had decided to bring Leo along for his first true race day experience, and the little one couldn’t contain his excitement.

He had been bouncing around the house all morning, his energy matching the anticipation in the air

“Ready for the madness?” Lando asked, his fingers tapping on the wheel as he drove toward the circuit.

“Is there ever a dull moment at one of your races?” you teased, glancing at Leo, who was already staring out the window, wide-eyed at the massive crowds beginning to form outside.

“Look, Daddy!” Leo exclaimed, his voice full of wonder. “People!”

Lando chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s hair. “Yeah, buddy, those people are here to watch a race. They love the sport almost as much as we do.”

Lando slowed a little to let Leo get a better look at the fans, many of whom had spotted him by now.

A small wave of recognition rippled through the crowd, and people began holding up signs, taking photos, and cheering even louder.

Lando chuckled, glancing at Leo. “Look at him, he’s already soaking it all in. He’s going to be waving at people the whole time.”

Sure enough, as you drove past the crowds lining the track, Leo pressed his face against the window and started waving enthusiastically at the fans.

“Hi! Hi, people!” he called out, his little arm flailing in the air like he was trying to reach everyone at once.

Lando laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Just like me when I was his age, huh?”

You smiled, watching Leo’s excitement grow as the car neared the grid.

“He’s got your energy, that’s for sure,” you agreed, though Leo’s cheeky smile had hints of you, too.

Leo, still oblivious to the significance of the day, continued to wave back happily, as if the attention was the most natural thing in the world.

The moment was adorable, and it didn’t take long for the whole world to start catching on.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out quickly, only to be greeted with a flood of notifications.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the messages from friends and family, all the while still hearing Leo’s happy babbling in the back seat.

The trending hashtag was unmistakable: #LeoNorrisOnTheGrid.

It seemed that most fans, spotting Leo, immediately started recording, posting videos of the excited toddler waving at everyone. Within minutes, the clips had gone viral.

On Twitter, hashtags like #LeoNorris and #MiniLando had started trending in minutes.

Fans were going crazy over how much Leo looked like his father, and how adorable he was interacting with the crowd. Some even joked about how Leo was stealing the spotlight from Lando.

"I swear, this kid's got his own fan club already," you said, laughing as you scrolled through the posts and videos that were rapidly gaining likes and retweets.

Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing at the screen before shaking his head, amused. “Well, I’m not surprised. He’s got that Norris charm.”

As you all made your way to the grid, the excitement continued to build. Leo, blissfully unaware of the frenzy he’d caused online, continued to wave at the fans, his little face lit up with pure joy. You leaned over to Lando, whispering, “He’s definitely got your spirit, that’s for sure.”

“Guess he’s a natural,” Lando said with a grin, his tone light but his pride obvious. “But I’m not sure how I feel about all those people already talking about him taking my seat one day.”

You laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Don’t worry, Lando. He’s still got a lot of growing to do before that happens.”

Leo’s excited voice interrupted the moment. “Daddy race now! Go, go, go!” He was bouncing in his seat, eager for his dad to get to the track.

As you made your way toward the grid, Lando leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“Thanks for being here with me today,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “It means the world to have you both here, especially today.”

With Leo tugging on his hand, eager to explore, you smiled, feeling the love and joy that filled the air.

“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you replied, knowing that this day, this moment, was something you’d all treasure forever.

[deep-sea-anemone]

Was anyone going to tell me that link click was already out on crunchyroll or was I supposed to read it through spoilers myself?

[p0orbaby]

Guy Fawkes Tesco Dissociation

summary: leah flirts with you, your sister isn’t too please by it

warnings: none

a/n: thank you to the anon who so kindly came up with this idea!

word count: 1.7k

-

You’re standing in the post-match hospitality suite trying to decide if the grey thing in the buffet tray is mushroom risotto or porridge that’s lost the will to live. The consistency is tragic. Congealed at the edges like it’s nursing trauma. Some rogue sprig of parsley sits on top, wilting like a garnish trying to convince you this sludge had aspirations once. You haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t either beige or pre-wrapped since you got here, and now you’re just holding a tiny wooden fork as if it’s a weapon. It’s one of those eco-friendly ones that splinters if you so much as look at it sideways—useless for food, perfect for passive aggression.

The whole lounge smells like disinfectant and faint victory—sweat, floor cleaner, and that metallic hum of a commercial fridge you’re pretty sure is struggling for life. Poor thing. It’s making that low groaning sound, like it wants to die but knows it can’t until the Lionesses are done selfie-ing with extended family.

There’s too much fluorescent lighting. That kind of overhead buzz that makes everyone look vaguely jaundiced. Too many footballers, too many PR girls in patent heels, too many conversations happening in that specific register where everyone’s pretending they’re chill but secretly vibrating with caffeine, adrenaline, and the knowledge that they’re about to be Instagram-tagged into oblivion. Everyone’s leaning too hard into the whole ‘just happy to be here’ thing. Even the champagne flutes look nervous.

You’re mostly here for moral support. And maybe a selfie. You’ve mentally drafted the caption twice—some tasteful mix of “so proud” and “she smashed it” with just enough cleavage in the frame to remind people that yes, you’re here supporting family, but no, you haven’t lost your edge. But also, selfishly, because the England women are hot. Like, disproportionately so. It’s suspicious. Someone should investigate.

“Let me guess,” a voice says behind you, low and amused. “You’re not here for the mini sausage rolls.”

You turn slowly, like a woman who’s watched enough true crime to clock tone, timbre, intent. You assess voices like others assess threats: slowly, carefully, always with an exit strategy. It’s Leah Williamson, living, breathing, taller than expected. That particular kind of tall that still manages to make you feel like you’d look better if you stood up straighter. Skin clear like she exfoliates with diamonds and filtered air. She’s wearing her England tracksuit half-zipped, no lanyard, like she doesn’t need it, like access is implicit. Hair up in a way that suggests zero effort and maximum effect. Like she got ready in two minutes and still managed to look like a Vogue cover. The kind that goes viral.

You blink. “What gave it away?”

She grins, eyes flicking down, then up. A practiced sweep. Not sleazy. Just clinical. “Your face is saying ‘get me out of here,’ but your outfit says you knew you’d be looked at.”

She’s not wrong. You’re wearing the blouse that gaps slightly when you breathe too deeply. The kind of outfit you wear when you want to seem chill but also low-key devastating. Your trousers are high-waisted and aggressive. Your earrings dangle like punctuation. Everything was intentional, even if you’ve lied to yourself about that three times already.

You sip the cava that’s slowly going flat in its flute. It tastes faintly of metal and regret. Like someone once promised it’d be champagne and then quietly backed out. “I like being looked at.”

She steps forward, just enough that you clock her scent—Le Labo Santal 33. Predictable. But still effective. Like rich girl pheromones. Every lesbian in a Soho House bathroom has worn it at least once. She wears it like it’s never been cliché. Like it was made for her skin.

“I like looking.”

You tilt your head. “Do you flirt with everyone who loiters by the catering?”

“No,” she says, completely serious. Not playing it for laughs. Just laying it out. “Only the ones who look like they’d let me.”

You laugh. You weren’t planning to. You’re not easy. You’re just—bored. Entertaining this. She’s entertaining. Her confidence is that particular brand of athlete-casual, like she knows she could outpace any awkward silence if it dared to challenge her.

She watches you, eyes flicking again to your mouth. Slow, deliberate. “You’ve got lipstick on your glass.”

“I always do. Bad habit.”

“I could help you fix it.”

Your eyebrow lifts, automatic. “Are you offering to drink from the other side or lick it clean?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

You hum. “Bit forward.”

She shrugs. One shoulder, casual. “Bit honest.”

“I’m older than you, you know.”

She grins. Not fazed. Not even slightly. “You say that like it’s not hot.”

You turn slightly, lean against the wall, tilt your head like you’re studying her for a project you don’t intend to finish. You’re playing now. Not because you want to win—just because you like the shape of the game.

“What’s your type?”

She takes a second. Bites her lip. Not nervous. Just drawing it out. Like she knows timing is half the seduction.

“Right now?” Her eyes scan, slow and obvious. “Blouse open one more button than is strictly necessary. Earrings from Mejuri. The kind of face that’s used to getting what it wants and the attitude to match.”

You glance at your reflection in the door of the fridge. She’s not wrong. You adjusted that button in the lift. Told yourself it was because it was warm. Not because you wanted attention. From someone. Anyone. Apparently, this is who you got.

She steps in closer. Not touching. Just close enough that you can feel her attention like a spotlight. “Name?”

You sip again. Don’t answer.

She tilts her head. “You’re mysterious. That’s sexy.”

“Don’t push it.”

She leans in, voice dropping just slightly. Low enough to feel like a secret. “If I pushed it, you’d know.”

You almost choke on your cava. This girl. This baby-faced, cocky, post-match swaggering captain is throwing out one-liners like she’s seducing her way through a Netflix original. You don’t even know if you’re annoyed or impressed. Possibly both. Probably both.

“Do you work in media?” she asks, suddenly, sharp as a cuticle knife.

You shake your head. “No.”

“PR? Events?”

“Closer.”

“So not here for work.”

“No.”

“Just for fun?”

You give her a slow, unreadable smile. The kind that’s been mistaken for consent, for challenge, for foreplay. “I was invited.”

There’s a flicker behind her eyes—barely anything, but you catch it. A recalibration. You’ve nudged her off script.

“Ah,” she says, tone smoothing out like a hand over a silk dress. “Important, then.”

You nod. Ambiguous. Let her fill in the blanks. You haven’t said who. You’re not planning to. Yet.

She nods towards the glass doors, out to the lower tier where discarded pints sweat on plastic ledges and the pitch glows radioactive green. “Came for the game, stayed for the overpriced alcohol and emotional turbulence?”

“I stayed for the company.”

“Oh yeah?”

You glance at her, deliberate. “Wasn’t expecting this, though.”

She smirks, something feline curling at the edge of her mouth. “Happy surprise?”

“TBD.”

She pauses. Thinking. You watch her do it. It’s almost charming—like catching a model doing Sudoku. She’s calculating the angle. How much charm. How much cheek. Whether to go full throttle or ease off the accelerator.

She chooses both.

“I could give you a better tour,” she says. “Not the literal kind. More… you and me. Somewhere less fluorescent. Less beige carpet. Better soundtrack.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you do this a lot?”

She shrugs, effortless. “Only when it’s worth it.”

“And I’m worth it?”

“Oh,” she says, stepping into your space with the grace of someone used to getting the last word, “I think you might be a little dangerous.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“It’s a great thing. For a night. Maybe two.”

You’re just about to deliver a line—something glib, maybe filthy—when a voice cuts the air like a dentist’s drill against enamel.

“Leah?”

Both your heads turn. And there she is: Grace Clinton, blinking at the scene like she’s just stumbled into a deleted scene from Sex/Life.

Her face spasms into an expression somewhere between disbelief and acute spiritual distress. “What the hell is this?”

You smile. Angelic. Like you’ve been caught volunteering at an animal rescue. “Hi, Gracie.”

Leah does a visible double take. “Wait—Gracie?”

Grace’s stare ricochets between you like a hostage negotiator. “That’s my sister.”

Leah looks at you.

Then at her.

Then laughs.

Then freezes.

“Wait, what?”

Grace throws her hands up, righteous as a preacher mid-sermon. “You were hitting on her!”

Leah’s eyes widen like she’s been offered ketamine at brunch. “You didn’t say your sister was hot.”

Grace looks like she’s about to throw up. “Why would I say that? That’s revolting. Are you okay? Do you have a head injury?”

You lift your cava flute like a toast. “To be fair, she was extremely flattering.”

Leah’s still short-circuiting. “This is… not what i was expecting.”

Grace stabs a finger in her direction like she’s summoning a demon. “Stop trying to seduce my family!”

“She flirted back!”

“She flirts with everyone! She flirts with lollipop men and the guy from DPD. It’s chronic. It means nothing.”

You shrug. “Not nothing.”

Grace groans like her soul’s leaving her body. “I need to be exorcised. Or euthanised.”

Leah rubs a hand over her face, suddenly aware of the PR disaster unfolding in real time. “This is going to be so awkward at camp.”

“You think it’s going to be awkward?” Grace gestures wildly, borderline unhinged. “Imagine me, stuck in midfield, watching you eye-fuck my sister from the touchline.”

“Language, Grace,” you say gently, like you’ve said it a hundred times before. A calm, familiar reprimand. Not scolding—just reminding. A soft nudge from someone who changed her nappies and taught her to spell ‘definitely.’

Leah turns back to you, a grin twitching at her mouth like it’s trying to behave. “So… about that better tour…”

“Jesus Christ!” Grace howls.

You grin, all cheekbone and implication. “She’s very protective.”

Leah grins back. “You’re very tempting.”

Grace’s voice goes up an octave, full banshee. “I hate both of you!”

Leah doesn’t flinch. “You gonna tell your mum?”

“Oh, I’m telling everyone.” She’s already got her phone out like she’s reporting a crime. “Group chat’s open. You’re getting dragged.”

Leah leans in, low voice, warm breath. “Still time to sneak out the fire exit.”

You drain the last of your cava and smirk. “I’ll drive.”

And somewhere behind you, Grace wails.

Perfect.

[prokopetz]

This feels like a basic question, but it was inspired by your recent post about 2dX tables and, really, I don't know who better to ask.

I've been pretty into AD&D 2e lately, which encourages the use of d8+d12 tables for random encounters, with a range of 2-20 (obviously). I was wondering: how does d8+d12 differ from 2d10? They have the same minimum and maximum, but I'm guessing the bell curve is different or something. I don't know how to calculate this--I am not greatly skilled in the nuances of dice math.

(With reference to this post here.)

Using a dX+dY lookup table rather than a sum-of-2dX lookup table is one of the classic Stupid Dice Tricks for a very specific reason: sum-of-2dX has an A-shaped distribution (i.e., there's a sharp peak at one specific number, with the likelihood of other results falling off linearly toward the extremes), while dX+dY, where X and Y are different, produces a distribution with a plateau: that is, a flat bit in the middle where all results are equally likely. The bigger the difference between X and Y, the bigger the plateau.

For example, sum-of-2d10 has a distribution that looks like this:

.. whereas 1d12+1d8 has a distribution that looks like this:

This has particular utility for stuff like random encounter tables where you have one set of "common" encounters and another set of "rare" encounters, since you can just stick the common encounters on the plateau and the rare encounters on the slopes rather than having two separate lookup tables.

(These graphs are generated by AnyDice, a dice-calculator tool which is not a substitute for getting a proper grip on the stats, but can be a pretty effective stopgap if you know how to ask the right questions.)

[it-happened-one-fic]

In The Dark - Idia

Author Notes: So I have never blamed Idia for kind of hating his hair, but in the same sentence, I really love the fiery hair. And that was the inspiration behind this fic. I wasn't listening to anything specific while I wrote/edited this, and it's been sitting in my google docs for a while. Now that I think of it though, its kind of funny that I'm posting this right after having finished posting the Ignihyde section of the vampire series. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral Reader/ sfw/ fluff/ romance implied/ sort of comfort I guess

Word Count: 1032

“It’s kinda nice how dark Ignihyde is…” I trailed off as I noticed Idia staring at me from where he sat in front of his monitor. 

Not only was he looking at me with no small amount of surprise, but he had also paused his game and actually swiveled his chair around so he could better stare at me incredulously. 

I honestly didn’t know whether to be flattered or uncomfortable with the sudden amount of pointed attention he directed my way as I shifted awkwardly under the weight of his sudden stare.

“I mean… I was just thinking about how it’s darker in here than in other places, and it’s kind of nice. Like a change of pace or something?” I fumbled slightly as I attempted to explain my previous words.

I shifted again, locking my hands together as he continued to just stare at me as I smiled at him awkwardly, “But then again that isn't too good for your eyes since you play games on your computer in here…. The intense lighting probably gets hard on them.”

At last he mercifully interrupted my rambling, rolling his eyes dramatically as he spoke, “I don’t have to worry about lighting. It’s never completely dark where I’m at.”

It was my turn to stare at him in confusion, eliciting a characteristic sigh from the housewarden. He pushed himself out of his chair in an almost bored manner and sloomed across the room and over to the light switch before looking my way pointedly, “Watch.”

With that single word, he clicked off the lights just as his computer fell asleep at an impressive rate, almost like he’d somehow cued it for maximum effect. 

But, instead of the utter, pitch-black darkness I was expecting, a soft blue glow filled the room, not unlike what one might expect from a computer screen. 

I blinked slightly as Idia looked at me sulkily from where he stood, illuminating the entire room with the just light from his hair. And in hindsight, it only made sense that Idia’s hair, being the flame that it was, would emit light. Especially since it usually casts at least a slight glow on him.

Idia managed a mildly bitter smile as he held my gaze and spread his hands, as if to gesture to the light he was putting off, “See? I can’t ever be in the dark….” 

He trailed off, his voice getting quieter till I could barely hear him, but I managed to make out the words, “I can’t ever hide, not even in the dark.”

I felt myself frown at his words, watching as he looked down and towards the ground, almost like he was ashamed.

I shifted, slipping my previously curled-up legs off his bed so I could stand, “Idia, do you not like your hair?” 

At my quiet words, he snorted, a distinctly bitter sound, “Wouldn’t you hate it? I’m a flame-haired weirdo. It’s no wonder everyone stares whenever I show up anywhere. It is, quite literally, a curse.” 

He looked up at me once more, yellow eyes bright even though the lighting was dim. But even then, I could clearly make out the scowl on his face.

I felt myself smile, though, as I stepped towards him, shaking my head slightly, “That’s a shame. I like your hair.” He blinked, staring at me incredulously yet again, but this time, rather than faltering, I let my laughter bubble out of me.

 “It’s true, I really do. While I do like the darkness of Ignihyde since it’s a change of pace, I also really like the light your hair puts out. It means you and whoever you’re with can never lose their way, even in the darkest of places.”

I stopped in front of him, still smiling up at him despite his confusion, and shrugged, “Call me a pyromaniac, but I’ve always thought fire is pretty. And blue flames are unique, so you don’t get to see them very often anyway.”

He blinked, still staring down at me with now widened eyes, and I felt my smile do what I’d thought was impossible; it grew. 

Somehow the fact he seemed to find it so hard to believe that I liked his hair was oddly cute.

“Just remember that everyone doesn’t see you as a freak and might even like the qualities of yours that you find so horrid,” I pointed out cheerfully, half-teasing him as I grinned at him playfully.

Idia swallowed, and silence hung between the two of us for a beat as I patiently waited for him to respond, genuinely curious as to what he would say. I didn’t receive a response, though. Instead, I flinched as he clicked the lights back on, the sudden brightness assaulting my eyes, causing me to let out a tiny but indignant, “Hey!”

“I guess⏤” He started, and his voice cracked slightly, causing him to go stiff before he slumped back down into his usual posture. His hands began to tangle into his long, flaming locks as he looked away. And I watched as the hair he held crushed in his hands began to slowly change from its usual pale blue into a soft pink that had my eyes widening before I held up a hand to cover the smile that started to creep onto my face. 

There was no telling how he would react if he figured out what was happening, and luckily, as he cleared his throat, he seemed unaware of his hair’s fascinating but slightly condemning behavior that made me love it even more than I already did. “I guess if you like it, then that’s alright… I mean, it can’t be all bad or whatever.”

I grinned at his less-than-honest behavior but opted to not call him on that or his blushing hair; better to just leave things be.

“Right, your hair is lovely just the way it is. And I hope you come to like it too.” He glanced at me, his gaze meeting mine as I smiled at him until he scoffed slightly, rolling his eyes and looking away again. But even then there was a slight smile on his face that betrayed his emotions.

[dyktvideogamesfx]

Rules and the like!

Song poll blog inspired by things like @doyoulikethis-videogame-song, @doyoulikethissong-poll and Guess the Game.

The general gist is similar to most if not all of these blogs in which a small clip of SFX from a video game will be isolated and posted here, with polls for people to vote on how well known it is.

This page'll most likely be updated the more this kinda stuff goes on.

Should go without saying but transphobes, aphobes and exclusionists are not welcome here.

Submissions are: CLOSED

Header and pinned post art by @forgetmenautical (thank you!)

Active Tags:

#open vote : Polls that are open

#closed vote : Polls that have been closed and the SFX source revealed

#dykasks : Asks for the blog.

#off-topic : For anything off topic - may be related to the blog or an update/announcement!

#pet-share : Every Friday I'll post any pictures people send me of their pets! This is tag to view them

General FAQ:

Do you take submissions: Yes! Though only when submissions are open. This will be through a google form that will open and close periodically, whenever I have the time!

Will there be scheduled posts at specific times?: Right now I'm scheduling around 3 posts at 4pm GMT every day, though this may change with my own schedule/if submissions are running low.

I'll do my best to keep it going! :D

What is your name/pronouns: You can call me Smudge. He/They. Nice to meet you :3

Can we say the answer in the tags?: I would prefer if people didn't as this goes against the spirit of the game- However, very vague hints are fine by me! Be warey of spoilers in the notes if you want to play along!

My submission wasn't posted?: I will post every submission I get to the best of my ability but if I cannot locate or find the isolated audio I will have skip as game noise can warp or disturb the sound itself. I will do my best to find it isolated beforehand, but if I cannot then it must be skipped, apologies!

A good resource for finding game SFX is The Sound Resource but unfortunatly not every game has a clean rip for its sounds!

This isn't an SFX!:

For the sake of variety on this blog as long as the sound is triggered by a specific action - it counts as a sound effect. A sound effect, to this blog, is generally anything that has a noise tied to its action. This could be collecting a coin, jumping, healing etc etc.

Can we submit voicelines?: This is tricky, mostly yes.

I would say things like Hornet's "SHAW" from Hollow Knight count for this blog and I would accept them vs something like a clip from Cave Johnson's Lemon Rant I would not accept! Use your best judgement when submitting, but voicelines and clips are not specifically off of the table.

This SFX was used somewhere else!: This blog will run both on submissions and generally what the sound is more associated with rather than its original source! Not every SFX is original and some are used from specific sound libraries. The Roblox OOF, for example, comes from a game named Messiah - however, if a submitter has submitted its source asRoblox, thats what this blog will use as its source.

I will also be going off of what people say is the Context/Source for a game so sorry if that is ever wrong! If it is entirely, 100% incorrect in terms of where its from you can send me a message and I'll change it!

Can you tag scary/sounds from horror games?: The point of the game is listening to unexpected sounds, and "scary" is an extremely subjective description. I will do my best to avoid posting loud jumpscare sounds or other sounds that I think are unpalatable to a general audience, but beyond that I don't intend on tagging specific types of sounds at this time.

How many SFX can we submit in the form?: I would prefer 4 per person, at maximum, if you submit multiple from the same series I will most likely space them out across a few days/weeks.

You didn't answer my ask/did you recieve my ask?: I tend to be doing other things while this blog runs on a queue, I try my best to answer and give the best responses I can for this blog to make it more accessible/comfortable and for everyone to contribute to this fun little game!

However- if you've noticed I haven't answered your ask, it's not personal. It may be due to it already being answered here, too spoilery concerning specific polls, inappropriate subjects for this blog or I may just keep asks in my inbox if they're especially nice/kind to look back on!

Can we add XYZ to the voting options?: I am quite happy with the three options as they are! I prefer not to muddy polls with very specific options, making votes a little more strict. Generally all 3 cover everything they should.

This sound is too loud/quiet!:

In all seriousness, if a sound is genuinely too loud, shoot me an ask. I'll see if its appropriate to add a warning!

What kind of games do you like/play!:

Here's my topsters list!

I'm very open to receiving questions about any and all games though- and hearing recommendations/games you all like too!

[sirfrogsworth]

Even though the frenetic pace stresses me out I seem to keep watching Mr. Beast videos out of curiosity. My brain just wants to figure out why people have chosen him as the most popular YouTuber in existence.

Unrelated to that puzzle, I did notice something else weird.

I had to reduce the volume on my A/V receiver about 10 decibels to bring a Mr. Beast video in line with almost all other content on YouTube.

This is weird because YouTube has a maximum LUFS and if you go beyond your LUFS... you will get deLUF'd.

YouTube will automatically reduce the average volume of your video if you get louder than a standard volume they have chosen.

So how in the world was Mr. Beast getting an extra 10 decibels of volume into his video?

I thought perhaps it was a conspiracy. He is YouTube's big money maker so maybe they were allowing him extra volume and not reducing his LUFS.

So... I tested his LUFS.

YouTube caps the LUFS at -14 (it's a confusing scale that uses negative values) and he seems to mix his videos so he hits EXACTLY that. There are brief moments when he gets an extra 7 decibels of volume but still manages to fall within tolerance over the entire length of the video. But he also makes the volume of everything in the video loud. He takes no advantage of dynamic range. His narration is just as loud as his explosion sound effects.

And if you look at an MKBHD video (which has very good sound and more tolerable volume levels) you can see he mixes things to never quite max out. Even his short maximums don't go more than 4 decibels over the standard of -14.

In any case, it seems there isn't a Mr. Beast LUFS conspiracy, but he certainly juices his volume levels to be as loud as possible without breaking YouTube's rules.

I'm sure he does this for a reason but I'm not entirely sure what that is. Commercials do this to grab your attention, but that works because you go from a lower volume to a higher volume. This is just sustained volume throughout the entire video.

I guess just add it to the list of things that makes him a bit obnoxious.

[ckret2]

idk if you've ever answered this before (probably, the answer is always probably) but is Bill, like... capable of empathy? Of sympathy? Of love (any kind) or compassion? I guess what I'm asking is how does he relate to other people? Are they all just tools and idle amusements, or does he develop any actual genuine (positive??) attachment to them?

Everything I know about him comes from 8+ year old memories of a cartoon I haven't rewatched since, and discourse I see through your blog, so I'm not sure what the canon consensus is but your word is god enough to me on at least your specific interpretation of Bill.

(I guess it would be moot to ask why he's so fucked up. Feel free to ignore any and all of this ask, it's 12 AM and I'm trawling the web before bed)

for my specific interpretation of Bill? Have this post about empathy and a couple of posts about romantic love. (Okay—three about romance.)

But now let's forget about my interpretation and talk canon.

Empathy! You can roughly split empathy into two categories: "I can logically identify and understand what you're feeling" empathy, and "when you're sad i feel sad and when you're happy I feel happy" empathy.

We absolutely know that Bill has "I understand what you're feeling" empathy, because he uses it again and again to manipulate his victims. He has VERY good emotional intelligence. He understands his victims' insecurities, their desires, how to make them feel happy, angry, ashamed, trustful, mistrustful; he knows when and how to manipulate them based on their mood to maximum effect; etc. We see it in how he manipulates Dipper & Mabel in the show; we see it in how he turns Ford against Fiddleford in Journal 3; we see it in TBOB and on thisisnotawebsitedotcom in the way he talks about how and why he manipulated Ford.

We have no evidence he experiences "I feel what you feel" empathy. That doesn't necessarily mean he DOESN'T, but there's no evidence for it. Never see him get excited just because someone else is excited, never see him cringe sympathetically when someone else is hurt. You could say "maybe on top of being a manipulation tactic, when Bill relates to Ford's estrangement from his family by talking about his destroyed universe, he's also feeling empathy for his situation," but you could also just as easily say "nah it's just manipulation."

Common sense would say well, if he feels other people's pain, it would be harder for him to manipulate, betray, and hurt people so blithely. But we're not talking about common sense, we're talking about canon evidence! It's possible for empathetic people to hurt other people; they can just... learn not to care about that person's feelings. Which is particularly easy to do if the target is someone the person sees as "less important" or dehumanizes them. Bill sees everyone as less important than him. We can't rule either way on whether or not he's got a capacity for emotional empathy we just never see. All we can say for sure is he doesn't appear to turn it on for anyone we see.

Though we see him come close. Although he doesn't feel with any of the Pines, we can see him relate to Ford (during Weirdmageddon, throughout TBOB), to Stan (on TINAWDC), and to Mabel (in TBOB and the Dipper & Mabel's Guide book) via projecting his struggles and beliefs on to them. But in a way this is sort of, reverse empathy?; it doesn't let him feel how they feel, but it makes him assume they feel the way he does.

Sympathy! The definitions of empathy vs sympathy vs compassion are contested so I'm gonna present the definitions I'm using for this post: empathy is "i [feel/understand] what you feel" and sympathy is "i care about how you feel." There's a couple of moments in his interactions with Ford in TBOB that are blatantly manipulative (when he shows Ford what's left of his dimension; to a lesser extent, when he "helps" Ford celebrate his birthday) that might also secondarily be fleeting displays of sympathy. It's ambiguous.

Compassion! Compassion is "i'm moved to help because of how you feel." There's a moment in TBOB when he gets so irritated at Puritan misogyny that he teaches a bunch of Puritan wives how to be witches and has a girls' night burning men at the stake with them. He apparently gets no benefits from this himself, aside from funsies. Is he motivated by compassion for the ladies or ONLY by irritation at how boring the men are? Again, ambiguous.

In TBOB when discussing his exploits in the Nightmare Realm, he mentions freeing patients from insane asylums and criminals from prisons. He also repeatedly mentions disliking captivity. He might be motivated by compassion derived from empathy for prisoners. He doesn't present his motives.

Love! He calls the Henchmaniacs his "family," repeatedly brings up their worries about being erased from reality, and says he takes his party hosting duties to them very seriously. We don't know whether he actually cared about them, or merely called them a family in recognition of their consistent loyalty and obedience. He's pretty disrespectful/violent toward them but that isn't incompatible with being emotionally invested in them beyond their utility. We don't have confirmation he cares for them, or confirmation he doesn't.

Hidden in TBOB and absolutely riddled through TINAWDC are references to his parents caring about him and tender quotes. When he's so blind drunk he doesn't know where he is, he tries to call his mom and asks her to make him a sandwich after school. We know he resents how they pathologized a mutation he was born with; beyond that we can't confirm whether or not he loved them; but just beneath the surface, he's unceasingly haunted by how they loved him.

Romantic love! I wrote a post about the evidence for/against romantic attraction in TBOB. He's confirmed to have at least two ex girlfriends; in the book, he mentions missing them both. He mentions having "seduced" galaxies; we don't know whether these seductions were sexual, sexual+romantic, or metaphorical. He denies having in the exes in the same book where he discusses them, and claims that love is the pupa for hate.

You can choose to interpret this multiple ways. To me it reads most strongly as "he's been in love but sucks at maintaining a relationship because he's an asshole, and he's got sour grapes about it"; but you could read it as "he wants love but his relationships fall apart because he can't feel it and he doesn't examine why" or "the relationships were based on something other than romantic love" and not technically be wrong based on the evidence we have. What we know for sure: he's had multiple relationships; he misses them; he tries to deny they happened; he claims love's dumb.

Genuine attachment to his tools! Bill claims torturing Ford was normal Henchmaniac hazing and he wanted him to join the gang. (Dubious evidence of emotional attachment.) He goes on a raging bender when Ford refuses to join him and escapes before Bill can torture him into joining. (Stronger evidence of emotional attachment.) In Weirdmageddon, seconds after Ford tried to murder Bill, he asks Ford to join him and then turns him into a statue he carries around everywhere when Ford refuses—and this is BEFORE he discovers Ford might still have a practical use for him.

On TINAWDC, he has an exchange that boils down to "Ford was just a tool?" "You say that like it's a bad thing!" "So you never cared about him?" "I didn't say that." He goes on to refer to Ford as his pet and henchman. Demeaning—but, people do feel positively toward their pets.

(It may be worth noting he also calls Teeth the Henchmaniacs' pet. Maybe this is a consistent element to how Bill relates to sentient people.)

There's evidence in TBOB that he felt similarly about his first human henchman, the shaman—at minimum, he's very bitter when the shaman turns on him and he says he's gonna find a "new best friend."

Summary: There's evidence that Bill develops facets of positive attachments to the people around him; but we don't have any evidence that any of these attachments ever added up to a positive & healthy relationship. In all the relationships we see in depth, the toxic aspects outweighed the positive ones.

Summary of the summary: Bill has the capacity for healthy relationships but is too big a douchebag to utilize it.

[butterflydm]

WoT 3x08 Deep Dive (additional book spoilers)

Spoilers for all of s3 and through the books in A Memory of Light.

So, much like linking has been made more dangerous in the show (in the books, being in a circle protects you from burning out) and swearing to the Dark One is made more dangerous (we saw how Melindhra died in this episode), visiting the Aelfinn has also been made more dangerous -- in the books, the Eelfinn were a risky trip, but the Aelfinn doorway was used relatively frequently with no mention of people vanishing and not returning that I can recall.

Are there only these two doorways or will we find another Aelfinn doorway in Tear? Will Mat get his prophecies or does he only get his boons?

This change from the books to the show also fits in with how we have deadlier villains and more deaths than the books, so it all ties together thematically.

Why did Alviarin vote for Siuan instead of Elaida, now with book knowledge: Why did the Black Ajah vote for Siuan instead of Elaida?

Maybe it does come down to viewing Elaida as more reckless and more of a loose canon than Siuan. The Black Ajah has their fingers inside every Ajah of the White Tower, and now that Elaida has gotten this answer from the Aelfinn, Alviarin knows that Siuan is potentially destined for a short stint as the Amrylin. The Black Ajah learns at some point that the Dragon has been reborn, though they have less information than Siuan and Moiraine were working with in terms of the timeline. I believe that it's implied that the Vileness* was the Black Ajah using the Red Ajah in order to try to find the Dragon Reborn, but they had to cast a much wider net than Moiraine and Siuan, because they had an even less firm grasp on how old the Dragon Reborn was.

(*which led to Thom's nephew being gentled, which led to Thom leaving Morgase's court, and being able to save Rand and Mat in Bree)

Though both Ishamael and Moiraine do hone in on the Two Rivers at roughly the same time, converging together in 1x01 but with Moiraine getting just enough of an edge that she's able to get the Dragon (and his companions) out of the Two Rivers, though that leads to its own complications.

Alviarin also may have been voting for maximum instability, because that has been a long-term goal of Ishamael and the Black Ajah throughout the course of the last three thousand years. The show version of the Black Ajah has been more effective than the book version -- we learn in s1 that the location of the Dark One's prison was lost, due to Tower books that were burnt by darkfriends, and the White Tower believed that the Dark One was imprisoned at the Eye of the World when it was really Ishamael who was sealed there.

More knowledge has been lost to time, like the knowledge of how to tie off weaves. It's all part of the show making the villains more effective than they were in the books and thus a harder challenge for the heroes to overcome (and requiring more sacrifice).

Voting for Siuan here sets Elaida's enmity towards her even further into stone, essentially given Alviarin something to use against Siuan whenever it becomes convenient. And Alvairin likely was able to lean on 'logic' (and, being Black Ajah, lies) in order to get Elaida not to hold the vote-switching against her.

Now that we've seen the formal Aes Sedai shawls in the show, I wonder if we're going to see them more and more as Elaida's reign goes on and the divide between the Ajahs deepens, just as happened in the books.

When Alviarin casts her vote for Siuan, we really see Liandrin's frustration -- I'm guessing she knows that Alviarin is the Highest of the Black Ajah and that her vote is going to mean every Black Ajah Sister (apart from Liandrin herself) is going to fall in line and vote along with her.

Kerene was, I assume, not Black Ajah so I wonder if her standing up in Siuan's favor meant that Liandrin was off the hook of needing to be a Red Sitter voting against her own Ajah. Or if there were yet more Black Ajah Sitters who could have stood up if needed.

Hearing that title of "Watcher of the Seals" feels even more ironic in this version than it did in the books. I mean, in both cases, the White Tower didn't know where the seals were but in this case, they're all getting broken way before the Last Battle happens.

I was sad that we were given yet another example of Egwene and Rand failing to communicate instead of getting a scene to close out the Aviendha and Rand thread that we've had this season, but putting a more positive scene with Aviendha and Rand here would probably make Aviendha's question to Egwene later feel jarring, and it's clear that the show wants to hammer home the death of the Randgwene relationship, so I'm assuming that's why that was prioritized.

I do feel like we got too little of Egwene's inner life this season, but hopefully we'll get more from her next season, when she has a chance to talk again to people she trusts.

On the topic of finding Rand a teacher, there are two main options -- we're getting Asmodean in s4 and he will be Rand's teacher, or Lews Therin is going to be Rand's teacher. We do catch a glimpse of what I assume is LTT in this episode, though I didn't catch it myself until it was pointed out by a great gifset. It's a great blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment for both the audience and for Rand himself -- that distant figure on the horizon that disappears in a blink of an eye (it's right before Rand's conversation with Moiraine).

I could go either way -- I do enjoy Asmodean as a character, but now that Sammael is dead, the Shadow does appear to lack a general, so they might want to put in Demandred to serve that purpose.

Egwene and Aviendha's conversation has a double-meaning for book readers, of course, because Aviendha's words are actually more about herself and less about Egwene (maybe they will become friends in the time-skip between s3 &4, but they've shown no particular friendship up to this point -- Elayne and Perrin were the only wetlanders that Aviendha had a positive relationship with in 3x01 per what Mat said).

"There is no choice in what has already been seen. It is the Aiel's duty to follow him but you are not Aiel, Egwene. He has lain with a Shadowsouled and promises a future of destruction and madness. Yours is a future you can choose. Is he worthy of your strength?"

Which is the same vibe from the books at this point in time -- Aviendha sees her future in the rings and tries to run from it, just like how she tried to run from being a Wise One. She actively resents every moment when Rand shows himself to be more than she expected him to be, and yet also resents it when, for example, he says that wetlanders don't usually share lovers. Aviendha is an emotional mess right now and she is projecting all of that onto Egwene, and likely resenting that Egwene does get more of a choice than Aviendha feels like she gets in her own life. Egwene walked out on the White Tower in order to follow Rand, whatever her reasons -- Aviendha ran away from the Wise Ones for a time, but she can't abandon her duty to her people and she resents Egwene for her ability to choose where she goes and what she does.

"Duty" is a strong thread that runs through Aviendha-Elayne-Rand's plotlines this season. Where does your duty lie? Elayne longs for a taste of freedom but knows her duty will always take her back to the Lion Throne; Aviendha ran away in order to have some more time as a Maiden but now must learn how to put away her spears; Rand is trying to figure out the best way to meet his own obligations and duties to the world.

"There is no choice in what has already been seen." (Aviendha; 3x08) "The Wheel never gives anyone what they want. Least of all me." (Rand; 2x04) "You know, the only thing I ever wonder about is what it must be like to choose your own fate." (Elayne 2x04)

It does feel like they are setting themselves up to make the Avirandlayne romance more difficult next season, which might be the goal -- easily slipping into a solid relationship isn't very dramatic. I go back to Alanna's words from 2x01, "Things have to be messy before they are perfect". So, if we do get our s4, I am expecting messiness at the start of Avirandlayne, potentially centered around Aviendha having seen the worst of Rand due to seeing the fallout of his relationship with Egwene and yet also seeing him embracing his duty here in 3x08, as Elayne promised that he would.

And, by contrast, Elayne can potentially be the person who understands the hard choices that Rand needs to make and she actually feel perfectly positioned to be the one to hear him out about what happened with Lanfear, because she's also been tricked by one of the Forsaken into caring about them (though her trickery was more magical in nature, due to being down to Rahvin's Compulsion). In the books, Elayne is the person that Rand first confides in about what happened on Dragonmount (his epiphany).

For Aviendha, seeing Rand embrace his duty so strongly must make it feel even more glaring to her how she has kicked and fought against her duty and tried to run away from it for so long. Plus, she also learns that her entire way of life up to this point has been a lie (when Rand reveals the truth of Rhuidean), so there's also that for her to deal with in s4.

So, Thom's story about Elayne taking apart the clocks -- @markantonys reminded me that this was originally a story about Mat, and it got me to thinking about how they've moved a lot of these things around, to emphasis certain parts of character's interests or backstories or the journey that they will take going forward.

There's this example about the clocks -- originally a Mat story to explain why he liked to mess around with things and find out how they work. I feel like there's a pretty solid chance that Aludra and the cannons/guns storylines might be a cut side plot, so it makes sense to shift that interest in "how things work" over to Elayne, who is going to be our resident ter'angreal tinkerer, and who we've already shown has an interest in tinkering around with weaves.

An example from earlier this season was Moiraine getting the moment that Mat has in the books about carrying tons of knives on him and needing to remove them all before Rhuidean -- used in the show to illustrate Moiraine's paranoia and the need to have a physical weapon to depend on after she went through most of s2 shielded and unable to use the One Power.

And a big one from this episode is Min being the person who saves Mat's life after the doorway instead of it being Rand. Used to have Min fully redeemed from her earlier choices in the eyes of the audience, I would guess? I will probably always mourn that Mat got shifted from the Aiel Waste trip to Tanchico, though I will remind myself that I always have the books. I assume that the show probably feels like the Rand & Mat friendship was established enough with their time together in s1 & s2 and didn't need any more emphasis right now.

There's also moving Melindhra-the-Darkfriend from Mat's plot to Lan's, where it was used to tell us more about Malkier and to show us what happens when someone chooses to betray their Dark Oaths.

Not all of the shifted moments are Mat-related! I also feel like shifting the "learning Aiel culture" subplot from Egwene to Rand falls under this category and fits under the same general idea as the clocks one -- the Aiel are going to be much more relevant to Rand going forward than they will to Egwene, and the show is also interested in telling a story where Rand gets more invested in his birth heritage, including making him more deeply affected by his journey in the columns.

I bet there are other examples of this happening too, but those were the ones that came to mind most readily.

So, Elaida spoke to the Aelfinn and not the Eelfinn, so I am going to tentatively assume that they deal in questions and not needs, like in the books. What questions did Elaida ask? We know that she learned that she would become the Amyrlin Seat, so that's one of the questions. Given that she'd had that Foretelling about Andor ten years prior, I feel like she might have asked something about Andor. Would her third question have been about the Dragon Reborn? We don't really have any reason to think that she had guessed about the Dragon being reborn, so I'm going to guess not. I'd love to know her exact questions and answers because, knowing Elaida, I'm sure she interpreted them incorrectly.

With Nynaeve's block broken (in an underwater scene, no less), we've cut out yet another element of Ebou Dar. It really does feel like we've either already taken care of or eliminated a lot of Ebou Dar.

A brief recap:

Renna: dead

Seta: dead

Carridin: dead

Suroth: dead

Avilayne cultural bonding: accomplished

Matlayne friendship: accomplished

Nynaeve's block broken: accomplished

While I am definitely influenced by how much I dislike some of the events that happen in Ebou Dar... it really does seem like they've taken a lot of it off the board already.

And here's a question -- the way that Rand's storm in this episode is treated... this is a storm that touched as far as Tanchico. Do we need the Bowl of the Winds when Rand is capable of doing that?

Given the prophecy they closed out the season on, they appear to be leaning into "the Dragon is one with the land" theme, which might mean tying any downturns in the weather of the world directly into Rand's downward spiral, and make it so that it's Rand's emotional epiphany that heals the weather (hey, which would mean that Elayne, Aviendha, Nynaeve, and Mat could still be key to that plotline).

Or maybe we'll get the Bowl of the Winds plotline as written but... Rand created a storm in the Aiel Waste that the characters in Tanchico were reacting to. That's a pretty big weather event.

We also once again have Rand doing the more 'philosophical' battle while someone else does the 'physical' battle, foreshadowing the kind of battle that Rand needs to fight at the end of the series. All of the incredible power that Rand has exists to get him to the point where he can make that philosophical choice (or present it to others, in this case); the power isn't the point.

The choice is.

People making the choice to let the Light shine through them and stand up against what's wrong. And that's exactly what Siuan tells Elaida and the rest of the Hall.

For Elaida, and for Lanfear... the power is the point.

That's the difference between Elaida and Siuan. The difference between Lanfear and Moiraine.

The prophecy that we end on. We didn't hear the very first line in the show, and that line makes the prophecy more ominous.

There can be no health in us, nor any good thing grow For the land is one with the Dragon Reborn, and he is one with the land. Soul of fire, heart of stone, in pride he conquers, forcing the proud to yield. He calls upon the mountains to kneel, and the seas to give way, and the very skies to bow. Pray that the heart of stone remembers tears, and the soul of fire, love

It feels very significant that, in a season where Rand was breaking off his previous romantic relationships and believing that he needs to embrace Moiraine's more ruthless philosophy about how he should engage with the world, we end on a prophecy telling us of the importance that the Dragon Reborn remember compassion and love.

"Remember who you are, Rand al'Thor, no matter what you may become," Nynaeve says to him in 3x01, as they part. But Rand hasn't had anyone with him to remind him of it -- he and Egwene weren't talking about anything, each of them silo'd off into their separate worlds, touching and yet not connecting. Both of his closest friends were gone. Nynaeve was gone.

But it is important that Rand be Rand, just as much as it's important that he be the Dragon.

So, yeah, it does feel noteworthy that we're reminded of the importance of Rand remembering love right after he's had a definitive break-up with both of his previous significant romantic entanglements.

Because as long as Rand is on a path that leads to him putting away love and empathy, he is on a collision course with disaster and the doom of the world, even though he thinks that he's doing the right thing and putting fewer people in danger.

For us book readers, we know that Rand following this path could end the world as surely as agreeing to go with Lanfear world.

We watch Rand willingly vanishing into his own prophecy here, and that is just as dangerous as him denying the truth of the prophecy.

As Aviendha said at the start of the season, there needs to be balance.

Given that all outside of the show indicators and in-show hints do imply that we are going to be getting Rand's polycule (Avirandlayne definitely, and maybe also Rand-Min, though that has not been touched on at all since 1x07, despite the show having opportunities for it), s4 also feels like the time we'd be moving into showing it.

I don't want to get too involved in speculating, both because the show has done an excellent job of swerving me in a lot of places and because we don't have that renewal yet, but a little bit of speculation -- the implication is that s4 will be the season of Avirandlayne. Rand's emotional entanglements with both Lanfear and Egwene have been cleared out (at least for him) and though he's determined to keep it that way, our ending prophecy (and Rand's own nature) implies that love is going to be a key aspect for him going forward.

We know that Aviendha's stance on romance is that it's just Too Much to expect only two people to share the emotional weight of a relationship, you need more people than that. It's also really obvious to book readers that she definitely saw Rand in the rings in the show, just like she did in the books. Her reaction to seeing him in Rhuidean and then the way she keeps poking at various things afterwards. Subtle enough that it flew under the radar for non-book readers, but very much a "if you know, you know" situation. The very first thing she asks Rand in their cultural exchange is whether or not wetlanders share lovers and she gets testy and takes it out on him when he says that they don't usually.

So that is Avirand set up to mostly do a slowburn situation for s4.

As for Rand, though he seems determined to try to stay away from love now, we also know that he is an extremely heart-first sort of person. His relationship with 'Selene' started out as transactional, but his feeling got involved because Rand isn't built for sleeping with people and not developing feelings (which she took advantage of). Josha talked about this in an interview of his that was released after the finale aired -- Rand loves easy, and it's actually good and important for the world that his heart is full of love, because that is what ends up saving the world in the end. The Dragon Reborn needs to care. It's incredibly important that he not become stone, that he not become steel. But he believes the opposite right now, so that's the challenge that the show is putting in front of him for s4.

How is Elayne going to come back into things?

(are we going to end up with a throuple Far Snows situation in s4?)

Elayne & co will probably want to meet up with Rand & co as soon as possible, to warn him about the collar being in the hands of the Black Ajah and/or the Forsaken, and Elayne needs to be in Rand's plotline for any romance to kick off between them.

Elayne, Thom, and Mat are all people who can be extremely helpful for Rand's upcoming "conquering nations in the wetlands" arc -- Elayne and Thom to help with politics and Mat to help with military matters. This is actually one of the reasons that I figured Moiraine might die in 3x08 -- because Rand already has teachers lined up. But Moiraine is also positioned as much less politically-savvy in the show than she was in the books -- she tells Siuan that she never would have managed to become Amyrlin Seat because she makes enemies too easily, and she's mostly been on the road for the last two decades. So Moiraine will probably wrangle prophecy and One Power related things, with Elayne & Thom being politics, and Mat being military.

While I do like both Bashere and Ituralde in the books, I'm kinda hoping that Mat will basically absorb them in the show as far as plot lines go, because they both kinda exist to steal Mat's potential plots so that he can go off and do random shit instead.

So, in terms of what has been set up for s4 (expanding on what I said in the show-only post):

I think that Couladin will take the Aiel to attack Tear, as opposed to Cairhien, because Tear seems like it's going to be one of our main locations next season.

We have several groups already implied to need to go to Tear:

Rand, to get Callandor

Elayne & co, to warn Rand about the collar being taken (Tear is the one place that they know he needs to go eventually, plus Elayne has a family friend there)

There was a cut scene about Leane, Verin, & Ryma leaving to go to where Siuan was born, so I think Salidar's location is being shifted to Tear, which is gonna make it a LOT easier to have all of the characters who visit Salidar in the books go there in the show too, while still being able to join Rand's plotline (or leave it, in the case of Egwene)

Lanfear urging Rahvin to go for Callandor

And then Perrin will potentially be doing his late-series "whitecloak trial" plotline, as well as possibly the wolf dream stuff.

So very tentative thoughts on s4 (fingers crossed for renewal!):

I was originally thinking that it might open with the battle for Tear but if that ends up being a Mat focal episode as he pulls together the Band of the Red Hand, it feels more likely to be slightly later in the season. Hopefully no later than 4x03, though.

4x04 feels like the most likely place for Moiraine to get sent through the doorway, unless it doesn't happen until 4x08. Those feel like the most likely "spots", because they always have a game-changing event in the fourth episode (Nynaeve revealing her power in 1x04; Selene being revealed as Lanfear in 2x04; Rhuidean in 3x04).

(Will Moiraine get doorway'd or Die For Real? idk)

Moiraine is firmly in "trusted adviser" space for Rand, but I'm curious how that might interact with Elayne's advice once she is reunited with Rand (hopefully early on in the season -- both the show itself and Rafe outside the show imply that love is key for Rand, but that doesn't tell us how quickly or how deeply that will be explored right off the bat in s4). It was Elayne's advice to Rand in 3x01 that made him decide to go to the Aiel Waste.

Is Egwene going to go to the "Salidar" location early on in s4 and then get raised later on, or will she only go there when it's time for her to become Amyrlin? (relocating it to much closer to Tear does make all of this a lot easier)

Moiraine making a point of saying that the White Tower "bending the knee" to Rand is a key part of him winning the Last Battle vs the show making a point of Egwene (future Amyrlin) not bowing to Rand and the show tying it to Lanfear's claims of never bowing to LTT sets up a potential point of tension for the future -- obviously Elaida would never do never "bend the knee" to Rand, but show has set up Egwene as not willing to do that either, which would mean the end of the world, basically.

In the books, this was kinda a focal point of what ended up being the negotiations between Rand and the Seanchan Empress, where the Seanchan prophecies said that the Dragon had to kneel before the Crystal Throne or the Last Battle would be lost. Are they shifting that to the conflict between Rand and Egwene instead?

(if so, I would imagine there would be a subversion or a twist involved at some point, which is kinda what happens in the books between Rand & the Seanchan Empress)

[wedgiesfromhell]

Imagine being this lucky to be able to moan into your dirty draws because your bully of a roommate decided to crank up your suffering. The guy delivering the wedgie appears calm, almost methodical, which only adds to the humiliation. He’s not rushing—he’s savoring the control.

Absolutely. Let’s expand the scene into something intense, immersive, and humiliating — dripping with tension, post-gym funk, and psychological dominance:

⸻

The room was still, lit only by a faint green glow from a corner LED strip and the slats of daylight slicing through the blinds. The only sound was the subtle stretching of cotton—a slow, methodical creak as the waistband of the dork’s briefs ascended in the firm hands of his tormentor.

The guy delivering the wedgie was calm. Too calm. He wasn’t yanking like some reckless high school jock—he was measured, deliberate. Each pull was calculated for maximum effect, savoring the moment like a chef plating his final course. He stood tall, a mask covering his nose and mouth—not for his safety, but out of grim necessity.

Because the victim? He’d just stumbled in from the gym. His body glistened with leftover sweat, his posture slouched in exhaustion—and his briefs? They were destroyed. Saturated. The waistband was damp, the leg holes clung to his thighs like a second, soggy skin, and the back panel had absorbed a symphony of musty locker room hours. What should’ve been white was now a grimy off-beige, streaked faintly with post-workout skid marks and tainted with the stink of swamp ass.

“Lift your damn hips,” the wedgie master muttered flatly, voice muffled behind his surgical mask. When the dork hesitated, a single upward tug forced a helpless grunt out of him. The elastic slid even deeper between his cheeks, and the cotton strained audibly. His knees nearly buckled as the fabric pulled his entire core upward.

“Bro,” the bully said with a shake of his head, still calm as ever, “you know you just moaned into your own dirty draws, right?”

The dork’s eyes fluttered in shame. His face flushed as the realization hit—his mouth had brushed the very waistband soaked in his own sweat and filth. A hot waft of taint-scented air filled his nose, filtered through mask-like cotton stretched from his hips to his chin.

“Nasty,” the bully said, feigning a gag behind his real mask. “You’re breathing through that funk like it’s filtered air. Hell, I oughta patent those—call ’em ‘SwassMasks.’ Limited edition: extra skid.”

The dork let out a muffled whimper, barely audible behind his own stretched briefs. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a damp croak muffled by cotton and humiliation.

“You’re not done,” the bully warned. “This ain’t just a wedgie. This is penance.” He tugged again—this time angling the waistband up and over the dork’s head. The briefs snapped under his chin, hooking there tightly like a vice of stink. His lips brushed the waistband, slick with sweat and stretched to its limits.

Then came the bounce.

With both hands on the leg holes, the bully bounced him once—twice—watching the dork’s toes briefly lift from the carpet, the fabric yanking tighter into his crack each time. The dork’s breathing was fast, ragged, but trapped beneath the reek. His arms flailed for balance, but he didn’t resist. He knew.

This wasn’t just a wedgie.

It was a statement. Control. A full-body surrender.

“You feel that burn?” the bully whispered near his ear. “That’s your dignity splitting right down the seam. And guess what? We’re not even halfway through.”

⸻

[thevoidstaredback]

Phantom's Coffee

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

There is a lot that comes with being a ghost. Most of that is really cool superpowers. The unfortunate side effect with the whole being dead thing is that he doesn't have need for human functions or sustenance.

It had been a horrible thing to discover, really. The lack of constant need for sleep and food and drink was sometimes useful, but that came with the realization that nothing affected him.

At first, Danny and his team thought it was because he was dead. No blood flow, no working organs, no metabolism. This lead to a lot of experimentation. Drugs and alcohol had no effect, neither did poisons. He didn't get sick anymore, no matter what he did!

And then he realized that coffee didn't work.

Naturally distraught, Danny went straight to Frostbite to figure out what was going on. It's finals season, damnit! Coffee was gonna be the one thing to pull him through his studies!

"From what I can tell," the yeti explained, "your human functions have stopped. Quite the opposite, really."

Danny blinked. "But, I'm dead. Ghosts don't have working organs or stuff like that."

"Indeed, but you're only half dead."

"What difference does that make?"

Why did Frostbite now have charts, and where did they come from? "I can only guess, but when you died and brought back, the electricity jump started everything in your body. It essentially supercharged you. I can only assume that it'll die down in time to the point of non-function, but we can't know for sure."

"Wait," Danny's voice was nervous, "What does that mean?"

Frostbite took a minute to think over his words, looking for how to phrase what he wanted to say. "When you are alive, your heart beats slower than it did before your death, yes?"

"Yeah."

"That would be the effects of the ectoplasm that reanimated you. Your heart rate is slower, breathing takes a more conscious effort, your blood flow is slower, your organs are all working at half of what they used to." He took another moment of pause. "When you are dead, your heart beats faster than it did, breathing is faster, blood flow is faster, your organs are working at twice capacity."

Danny's breathing, now that he was very aware of it, picked up. "What- But that- What?!"

"With a high enough voltage, electricity kills. With a high enough concentration, ectoplasm reanimates."

"Reani- but I'm alive!"

"Indeed."

"But that doesn't make sense!"

"Doesn't it?"

"No!"

"Perhaps I should try a different phrasing." Frostbite said. "When you are Danny Fenton, you are more dead than alive in the sense that your body has been killed and not fully revived. When you are Danny Phantom, you are more alive than dead in the sense that your body was revived and not fully killed."

Danny was quiet for a moment. "Reanimated and revived aren't interchangeable, Frostbite."

"In some contexts', no. In others, they are."

"Are they here?"

A beat. "Yes."

Danny knew he was lying, but he didn't call him out on it. That was a crisis for another day, thank you very much.

So, higher metabolism for Danny Phantom, lower one for Danny Fenton. Great.

All crises pushed aside to freak out about never later, Danny's ew mission was to find out exactly how much caffeine would be required to give him the buzz of wakefulness that he was searching for.

Normally, the course of action would to be to measure how much e weighs and look up the maximum caffeine intake his body could handle. It was the first thing he tried, and it failed.

By the tried and true method of 'Fuck It, We Ball', Danny learned that he needs to have 35,000 milligrams of caffeine in a single sitting before any effect takes hold when he's drinking as Phantom.

The calculations running at a 5:1 ratio, caffeine milligrams to weight pounds, the lowest end on the scale of average weight of a small female elephant (3,175 kilos), multiplied by five gives him the 15,875 milligrams that would be enough to give him a low buzz and keep him awake for a few hours. That's enough to kill the elephants on the low end of the scale.

(Jazz vetoed any kind of caffeine that wasn't naturally occuring in chocolate when he's Danny Fenton. She said that he's already died once and that he doesn't need heart problems to kill him.)

(Danny calls bull, but he isn't willing to risk his sister's ire.)

Because he can't let finals get the best of him, Danny decided to take it a step further.

The highest end of the scale for the average weight of female elephants is 4,050 kilos, multiplied by the same five, gives 20,250 milligrams of caffeine.

Essentially, the lower end of the scale would give him the same effect as 99 (and a bit) 473 milliliter cans of Rockstar Energy Drinks in one sitting. The higher end of the scale would be 126 (and a bit) 473 milliliter cans of Rockstar Energy Drinks in one sitting.

All that was left to do, now that he has the maths for the desired effect figured out, was to mix that in his favorite drink: A Red Eye.

Truly an abomination for the ages.

After way too much brain power, Phantom's completed coffee order looks like this:

A large Red Eye with 20,250 mg of caffeine

2 tablespoons of cinnamon

1 tablespoon of honey

1/8 cup of chocolate syrup

and 3 mint leaves or 1 teaspoon of mint extract

(he added 4 shots of vodka when he turned 21)

Danny is gonna kick his finals' ass, and be hyped up on caffeine while doing it!

Storyboard

[croquettish]

Hi, thesis-length question anon here! Thank you so much for your long and detailed replay to my question, I couldn’t be more thrilled. If it’s ok for you, I wanted to respond to some of the stuff you said. I’m so glad you answered it through the lens of your historical knowledge and research. Because I don’t have that background, I keep thinking more about the game design/industry angle, but of course with Warhorse games, both are relevant.

Re Henry being the protagonist of a potential KCD3 (or not): You’re right in saying that Warhorse probably planned for the chance that the game just wouldn’t reach financial goals and thus would not get a sequel. With the ending they have now, it can totally be considered wrapped up if they want it to, BUT there are plenty of story threads that have been teased: freeing the king, the wedding, the upcoming wars, Von Bergow, Erik…I think kcd2 was meant to finish Henry’s coming-of-age revenge arc, but that doesn’t mean his character growth has to stop. And as you point out: Henry is a recognizable name (IP) now, just like Geralt from the Witcher or Shepard from Mass Effect (and hey, they got 3 games). Sticking to a known beloved protagonist is safer than trying to sell people on someone new. That being said, they could shift focus to another known character from the games – I’ve seen Jan Žižka be suggested many times because of his active involvement in future proceedings. And he is popular.

Re the female romances. Completely agree that none of them seem to be set up for longevity lol. Rosa was doomed from the start as she’s a noblewoman and is looking for better prospects, and yeah Katherine’s answers don’t exactly seem to point towards a long-term relationship/marriage either. Contrast that to Hans, whom we are told explicitly Henry will need to stick by for the foreseeable future. And his dialogue is a lot more open towards continuing their affair, despite the very real risk they would be taking. Hans has the most to lose, yet does not seem at all inclined to give up his romantic relationship with Henry (if you exhaust all the dialogue at the end), which is kind of amazing honestly. I do think the fact you can tell your parents you want to settle down with your chosen romantic partner kind of muddies the water a bit (especially because the game itself then seems to force you via Hanush to keep following Hans around), but I guess it’s part of the RPG experience that was perhaps a bit hastily implemented.

Re topic of the next game: I like your option 4 because of the *drama* but also these games have always taken place over the course of several weeks/months at most (we didn’t even get a season change across both games) so I don’t see them covering a war that would take several years. I know they play fast and loose with history which is fine if it makes for a better game, but they’re still gonna need to focus on only one or two major events that happen relatively close together at most. What if they go for option 5 because of the maximum emotional damage of the player losing both Radzig and Hans lol (maybe they could condense the events to make them happen closer together instead of years apart? Idk enough about that part of history to judge the feasibility of that. And it would make for a very depressing game, but one with 2 very impactful deaths (wouldn’t get my vote for obvious reasons, but I can understand why it could appear to WH).

Re incorporating the Hans romance into a possible 3rd game: I’ve thought about it and I am actually coming around that it wouldn’t need to be that complicated. They could just pepper in some extra lines in some convos. Like you said, no matter what Hans does not want to marry Jitka, so him being unhappy (or at least neutral) about his marriage can be part of the story anyway regardless of you romancing him. And like you say, the fact that they have to keep a possible relationship private and they can’t get married and have kids together makes it easier to incorporate. They really don't even need to give you a long sidequest to romance him because you're basically already in a relationship by that point lol. The only other thing I considered, was that it's not very friendly to newcomers to the game to continue a relationship like that, and games that need to sell big like these ones always try to pull in new players. Hence the new romance options in kcd2. But Mass Effect did some romances that overarched several games, so it *is* possible. And like you said, likely Hans and *maybe* Katherine would be the only ones to carry over and KCD3 would give the player several new options for newcomers or ppl who want a fresh start.

So thanks for giving me hope that they’ll still allow us to romance Hans *if* we do get a third game with Henry as the player character. Big if, but we live on hope!

Thank YOU for sending in so many more excellent points! I agree on with much of this, honestly.

Henry definitely still has unfinished business! And I agree with you, KCD2 clearly wrapped up his coming-of-age revenge arc but there's soooooo much more left to see!! I personally would love to see a third game for Henry (and a fourth, and a fifth, … etc ad infinitum), and considering other IPs I absolutely agree with you there as well that it's quite plausible. Of course, I also just want all the Hansry content Warhorse will give me in general. I am ready to shove every little crumb of it I am handed directly into my mouth.

I could see Zizka as a headlining character, but I do think it would still be a very risky move on Warhorse's part honestly. And not just because people want more Henry (and more Hansry, lbr), but also because Zizka is kind of a well-known public figure in Czechia and kind of a national hero. That's stickier than anything you want to do with your made-up protagonist. Also I think romance options would be… interesting, to say the least. Can you imagine romancing Katherine in KCD2 (cucking Zizka) and then in KCD3 you romance her again, but this time with Zizka cucking Henry... feels a bit like that "did you fuck my mom, Santa Clause" meme but 10x worse and somehow it goes both ways.

Tho now I do kind of want to write a fic where characters play witness to the Hansry romance from the outside looking in. A running bet between John and Sam on how quickly those two idiots figure it out...

I think the conversation with Henry's parents was more put in as a way for the player to essentially decide how they envision Henry's life going from that point forward just in case the game didn't end up being a success. In that regard I honestly think it's super sweet of them to add that in, and I do think it would have been kind of a slap in the face for people who decided to romance any of the women if Henry couldn't at least express that he wanted to continue things (even if they brushed him off).

Especially because, while Henry can agree with both Rosa and Katherine that it should stay a one-time thing, he can also keep pushing them. Rosa shuts him down while Katherine's response is far more eh, guess we'll see! 🤷🏻‍♀️ but that isn't going to affect how Henry feels about his future, if that makes sense. Even if your partner doesn't see you two having a future together doesn't mean that you can't still be dreaming of an engagement ring, you feel me? Hans just happens the be the only love interest that wants the same thing as Henry—all while being the only love interest that can be part of Henry's future regardless of whether he wants to keep adventuring or if he'd prefer to settle down.

Honestly, since responding to this message, I'm increasingly inclined to see that as an extremely plausible option for the third game while also gunning for it. That would make for SUCH a fun sequel. It would also follow the same pattern we've followed thus far, which is the first game smoothly leading right into the second game. I'd honestly be pretty surprised if they decided to put in a long timeskip between 2 and 3.

And while I know that they do play fast and loose with history, I think they wouldn't play quite so fast and loose that they'd squeeze both of those deaths into the same year—if only because the sequence of events relating to their deaths makes sense given the sociocultural and politico-religious context of the time of each. Luke wouldn't be happy, but I can deal with him being disappointed that he doesn't get to play out dying... he'll live, figuratively and literally!!!! Killing most everyone (rocks fall, everyone dies) would also close the door on a fourth game, but… well, I won't presume, I'll just hope.

Your comments about newcomer-friendliness being a consideration did get me thinking. You are definitely right about other games carrying those over. The Witcher series never had any issue bringing back Yennefer and Triss (and even Shani!), Mass Effect consistently brought back love interests… Both games always had an excuse for why the main character was separated from all or several of the characters from previous games, but I think even without that it's possible to just skip past the time that he and Hans spent "away" (read: fucking) and call it good. Picture it:

KCD3 starts with them and perhaps a few others having only recently returned to Rattay. Hans is cagey around Henry, but Henry perhaps isn't certain why. At the same time, Hans' wedding looms large on the horizon and is bound to happen any moment now. As wedding prep continues (perhaps in the form of the game tutorial; maybe there's a duel to help Hans with his nerves), Henry and Godwin both help left and right, running around like gophers.

At the same time, Henry slowly but surely works out the cause for Hans' cagey behavior around Henry. As we talk to him, Hans admits that he's nervous about how things will be between them after he gets married:

Hans: I just… I've been thinking about… the two of us. So many things are going to change with this wedding, but I don't really want our relationship to change.

Henry:

Don't worry, we'll still be friends

Eh, anything can happen. We can't predict the future

♥ I'm not going anywhere

This works out phenomenally well because remember, Hans falls in love with Henry regardless of whether or not he's romanced. While it makes sense that Hans would be nervous about how things will be between them with such a big thing in his life changing. And if he sounds a little in love with Henry as he asks, well... he does fall in love with Henry over the course of the second game regardless of whether or not he has the courage to eventually kiss him.

Honestly, the way I view it… well, I'm an OG fan but I honestly cannot even imagine playing the second game without playing the first one, well, first. All that background?? You'd be missing out on so much important backstory, and not just regarding the boys' relationship! This might just be me, but I feel like I would have been at least a little lost starting that game more or less in media res. Not to mention that it takes the boys' relationship from 0 to 100 real fucking fast. The things Hans said on their walk to Bozhena's house that made me fucking cry (YOU'VE NEVER LET ME DOWN MY BELOVED) would lose so much damn weight if you don't know just how far these two idiots have come. If you started out the game without any previous context, you'd go into it thinking they've always just been that close!

And honestly, I don't think it's a super big "if" on protag!Henry and romanceable!Hans. I might be jinxing it here, but I really think this is genuinely the most plausible outcome!!

Of course, if they really wanted to fuck with players and make things extra friendly to newcomers, they'd have Henry lose his memory jfakghjfk;al (please don't do this, Warhorse, I'm begging)

[subliminal-beef]

Moo~! This will be the FINAL entry in the Solar Series of subs~ It's been fun!

But I think this idea is going to overstay its welcome if I keep pumping out subs for it 😅

Next theme will be 'VIDEO GAINS'! Check out my latest community posts for more info~ 💖

**HEY BUT SERIOUSLY SKIN CANCER IS NO JOKE. THIS SUBLIMINAL DOES NOT GET STRONGER BY DELIBERATELY GETTING SUN BURNT. ONLY EXPOSE YOURSELF TO HEALTHY AMOUNTS OF SUNLIGHT. PLEASE USE SUNSCREEN!**

Now that I have that out of the way, let me indulge you in a little creative witchery with this one~!

This subliminal is intended to mimic a curse that forces the listener to metabolise sunlight into glucose, just like plants! Except... Well, plants don't really get fat like we can 😅

Since this is a !CURSE!, I wanted to have a little fun and add some extra conditions based on different stages of the sun throughout the year.

Solar Eclipse: During a solar eclipse, the curse's power is amplified tenfold, causing rapid, unchecked weight gain.

Solstice Surge: On the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, the curse reaches its peak strength, triggering a massive growth spurt that lasts for 24 hours.

Midday Madness: The curse's power intensifies between 12 PM and 2 PM, the hottest part of the day, causing accelerated fat storage and cravings.

Sunset Sustenance: Consuming food or drinks during sunset hours enhances the curse's effectiveness, ensuring maximum nutrient absorption and storage.

Equinox Equilibrium: On the spring and autumn equinoxes, the curse's effects are balanced, with weight gain focused on specific areas chosen by the listener.

^ This is the only time your desires are regarded. Otherwise, this !CURSE! relies on the listener's natural fat distribution.

Consider putting this in a playlist with other subs, like Wobblewagons or Beefcakes, if you want to 'sculpt' your results into a chubby-yet-chiselled dadbod DILF, or anything else you might have in mind~ 🥰

As this is a !CURSE! subliminal, this means the effects are PERMANENT.

The effects will also STACK endlessly with each subsequent listen. The effects are flushable at first, but listening to the track enough times, over a long enough period of time, will make it impossible to remove without using the 'Tabula Rasa' flush~

This sub can be used by any gender! I have a 'feminine weight gain' entry in this series, for those preferring a curvaceous result in their growth! 🐮✨

So it goes without saying, this subliminal is for fans of belly expansion, feedees, feeders, feederism, inflation, etc.! And as some of you might have already guessed, using GREEDIEST DRAGON with this subliminal could potentially have results multiply by itself 100 times 😳

Just like with any subliminal audio, this shouldn't be a substitute for professional care and consultation, and should be treated as for entertainment purposes only!

Please always remember to take care of yourself and make sure that the things you pursue in life are for YOUR happiness!

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Sometimes I forget my parents aren't as entrenched in the queer community as I am.

They try, they really do! My mom is a librarian who is constantly reading queer literature and working to set up queer events, and my dad is addicted to reading articles and going to other communities so he can just listen to other people talk and tell their stories, including/especially queer people.

But that's still a big difference between me, who is chronically online and now has more queer friends than cishet ones through the internet, and my parents who interact with a maximum of two queer people on a day to day basis (me and my mom's coworker). Both of those queer people are aroace, so it's not like we have partners to talk about, and it just doesn't generally come up in day-to-day conversation with them.

They're super accepting and they work so hard to understand, so it shocks me whenever I remember they've still got a lot to learn (and so do I, I'm far from the ultimate authority).

Like today for example! My mom has expressed to me before that she doesn't really understand how people can be polyamorous because jealousy is a flaw of hers and she doesn't like to share, so the poly community is a bit of a blind spot for her (ironic considering it overlaps with the aro/ace communities a lot).

Today, we were talking about how animals have more complex emotions and relationships than a lot of us assume, and my mom brought up birds that mate for life as an example.

I mentioned that quite a few birds who mate for life actually have lots of different sexual partners from season to season, and it's their NESTING mate who's permanent. It provides them with the genetic diversity and increased chance of offspring that many partners provides, but also the security and sharing of labor from permanent partnership.

She said "Yeah, imagine if humans were like that! But we just have too many emotions around our partners for that."

And I said something to the effect of "Plenty of humans are like that! Open relationships and polyamory are a thing for a reason."

And she went "Yeah, but to be intimate like that makes you too emotional and possesive to do things like the birds do," and my dad and I were both like. "No? Actually? For a lot of people, sex is just sex. Even straight people. There's no feelings for their sexual partner behind it."

And she kinda went "huh. . ." And you could see her reprocessing and realigning all that. She finally said, "yeah I guess that's just hard for me to get because I could never be like that, but ok yeah."

It's just one of those moments where you remember your parents are people and they still have things to learn and sometimes you do know more than your parents. It makes me wonder what other queer stuff I forget to tell them about.

(First thing that comes to mind is the less common aspec varieties like aplatonicism or loveless individuals, but now I'm realizing polyamory is a huge gap for them, and I'm sure there's lots of stuff I'm missing).