I wish you would write a fic about lightning and The King bounding after Lightning loses Doc
When he was invited to the public memorial service, the grief was too fresh in his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to RSVP “no.”
When RSN asked him to host a charity race in Doc’s honor, he couldn’t help but feel like it was a grab at a “humble” marketing opportunity. The idea of a corporation, even one that provided his career, taking advantage of Doc’s death killed him. He declined.
But when they had the first Piston Cup race under Doc’s name, something changed in him and he simply had to compete. Having someone else take home a cup with Doc’s name engraved on it would have just felt so wrong. So finally, he attended.
“Key kid!” a familiar voice called out from the crowd as Lightning was making a hasty exit out of the press conference post-race. Still riding the high of the victory, but too melancholic to face the fake personalities of the press, Lightning was eager to load up and head home. However, this voice intrigued him enough to stop and spin around. Upon doing so, he was greeted by a familiar Dinoco-blue smile.
“Strip?” he said in pleasant surprise.
“Hey, how ya doin son?” Strip greeted in his usual friendly tone.
“Strip! I had no idea you’d be here, it’s been too long.” Lightning said, genuinely engaged in the conversation for the first time in a while.
“I’ve been good, these old axles have healed up pretty well. Enjoying the retirement.” he answered honestly. “How bout you, kid? I had a feeling today’s race might’a been hard on ya.” Strip asked cautiously. Lightning sighed, thankful to be able to give an honest answer.
“You guess right. I’m happy to win, trust me, I am. Feels good to do him proud. But it’s just…” his eyes broke contact to avoid tearing up. “it’s just hard to not see him in the pits, or hear his voice over the headsets. It kept my head on straight.” Lightning suffered through the sentence. “God, I miss him, Strip. It’s just not getting easier.”
Strip’s brows pinched together in empathetic pain.
“Lightning, I can’t tell you anything that will make it easier. I’m real sorry you’re goin through all this pain, and I can’t imagine what you must be feelin’. But if it means anything, Doc raved about you ever since he became your chief. He talked about how good it felt to be assured that someone would carry on his legacy, that someone would do him proud. Son, I think you’re doin’ just that.” Strip said in his old and wise voice. Something about his speech sounded very familiar to Lightning, and it was a familiarity that he hadn’t felt in a few months. This time, he allowed the tears to well up with a wide and warm smile.
“Thank you, Strip. Really.” Strip returned his genuine grin.
“Welp, I outta return to the Mrs. You take care, Lightning. And take care of his town and his people.” Strip said as he turned to drive away. Lightning gave him a final smile and a nod.
“I will, Strip. Thanks for the kind words.”
Strip smirked to himself as he returned to his trailer, happy to see the rookie wasn’t so much of a one-man-show these days.
The events of the horrific Aurora Theatre Shooting unfolded on July 20, 2012. The shooting transpired during the midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises and ended with unthinkable losses.
James Holmes, the sole perpetrator, initially entered the theatre and bought a ticket to the film, sitting in the front row. Approximately twenty minutes into the movie, Holmes exited the theatre through an emergency exit door. He propped this door open with a plastic tablecloth holder and proceeded to go outside to his car. Inside of his vehicle were protective tactical clothing items and multiple firearms. Holmes changed into the protective clothing, which included a gas mask, a ballistic helmet, a bullet-resistant throat protector, a load-bearing vest (which was not additionally bulletproof), bullet-risistant leggings, a groin protector, and finally a pair of tactical gloves. While at his car Holmes also retrieved the guns that he would use in the attack; a 12-gauge Remington 870 Express Tactical shotgun, a Smith and Wesson M&P15 semi-automatic rifle with a 100-round drum magazine, and a Glock 22 .40 caliber handgun.
Holmes then reentered the theatre through the same door he had propped open and entered the auditorium, wearing headphones and playing “techno music” as to not hear the audience’s reactions. He first threw two canisters that discharged a gas or smoke. This smoke caused eye irritation and obscured vision, as well as itchiness to the skin and throat. After this Holmes fired his 12-gauge Remington shotgun at the ceiling, then at the audience. He additionally fired his semi-automatic rifle, but it soon malfunctioned. Holmes lastly fired using his Glock 22 handgun.
Holmes began shooting at the back of the auditorium, then towards people in the aisles. Three people in a neighboring room were hit by a bullet when it passed through the wall, and that area was subsequently evacuated. This room was also screening The Dark Knight Rises. Meanwhile, back in the auditorium where the shooting was taking place, the fire alarm began to sound. The scene was in complete chaos, and some were hesitant to flee due to shouts of an additional shooter in the theatre’s lobby. The first calls to 911 were made at 12:39am, with police arriving in 90 seconds. Some individuals reported the shooting on Twitter rather than calling the police, but officers were already present at the theatre when these tweets were sent.
A total of 76 shots were fired by Holmes in the theatre; six of these were from the shotgun, 65 from the semi-automatic rifle, and five from the Glock 22 .40 caliber handgun. When Sergeant Stephen Redfearn, one of the first police officers on the scene, arrived, he decided not to wait for ambulances. Sergeant Redfearn instead sent a number of the victims to the hospital in squad cars. At approximately 12:45am, Holmes was apprehended behind the theatre by Officer Jason Oviatt. He stated that Holmes was calm and “disconnected” during his arrest.
12 people were killed in the Aurora shooting and 70 non-fatal injuries were reported. 10 victims died at the scene and two more died at local hospitals. Four of the victims, Jonathan Blunk, Matt MqQuinn, Alexander Teeves, and John Larimer, were killed while protecting their girlfriends. Two of the victims were active-duty service members. For a full list of the fallen victims, click here.
Two federal officials had stated that Holmes had dyed his hair red and called himself “The Joker”, but authorities later declined to confirm that statement. However, three days later at his first court appearance, Holmes had reddish-orange hair. Authorities found a first aid kit, as well as spike strips, in his car. Holmes later claimed that he planned to use the spike strips if police chased him or shot at him. Police interviewed a grand total of 200 witnesses during the investigation. Holmes was first incarcerated at the Arapahoe County Detention Center under suicide watch.
The Aurora Shooting had claimed the largest number of victims of any mass shooting in the history of the United States, but was later unfortunately surpassed by the Orlando Pulse Nightclub Shooting in 2016, which had a combined total of 102 casualties. The Aurora Shooting was the deadliest mass shooting in the state of Colorado since the Columbine High School Massacre in 1999, which claimed 13 victims, not including the two perpetrators who committed suicide after their attack.
Hi, could you please do another protective lams with some fluff on the side? By the way I love your blog!😊😊😇
Legit there’s so many Lams requests and I’m so close to 1,100 follower. Today has been quite a good day. I love all my tumblr children.
John grimaced as Alex continued sipping his coffee. Just that, completely just coffee. No sugar no cream, no sweeteners. Crinkling his nose, he shook his head fondly. He took a sip of his coffee - with so much sugar and cream compared to Alex’s it felt like a cup of diabetes.
“Oh!” His outburst made John jump a bit. “So, Eliza told me that Peggy found someone!”
John grinned, knowing Alex had a soft spot for the Schuyler sisters - mainly Peggy. Of course, everyone did. Who wouldn’t?
“Really?” He grinned at Alex’s shining face, “Did she say anything else?”
He nodded. “Apparently this girl is in like, half of Peggy’s classes and she’s been crushing hard for a while. Eliza said they had a project together a few months ago and have been ‘hanging out’ ever since.” Alex grinned, “She’s really sweet. I’ve met her a few times!”
John hummed. “When things get serious are we gonna have a family intervention on her?”
Alex shrugged. “I’d like to say yes, but I’m sure Eliza and Angelica would do their thing first. Then we’d have to get an okay from them to do our thing.”
John laughed, watching an older couple smile at them as they left. “Well, it’s a miracle that girl managed to snag anyone with how protective everyone is over her.”
Alex giggled, taking a gulp from his coffee. “Yeah well, it’ll bad harder to make sure someone’s worthy for her and - holy shit!”
Alex cried out, and John yelled in anger as hot coffee was dumped down Alex’s back. The girl stood there smirked, holding her now empty cup in her hand, arms crossed across her waist.
“What the actual fuck?!” John yelled out, Alex’s eyes swimming with tears as the coffee burned him.
He ran to his boyfriend, pulling off his jacket, pulling on the clothes to keep the hot liquid as far from his body without fully undressing him in public.
“Homosexuality is a sin! You better get used to being burned because that’s all you will feel in hell you - you bitch!”
It was her turn to yell out, the barista dumping coffee on her as he back was turned. “Get the fuck out of my coffee shop. Now.” The lady, crying out in both anger and probably pain, hurried out of the shop, her friend right on her heels.
The shop was silent, everyone watching the commotion. The barista turned, apologies pouring out as she felt embarrassment something like this happened in her shop. John told her it was alright, it wasn’t her fault some people still viewed the world solely in black and white.
Once they had gotten to John’s car, he’d stripped Alex of his shirt, and, with some ice in a plastic bag thanks to the barista, carefully began holding it to his burns. Thankfully they weren’t too bad, at most very small, faint scars. At the least, nothing left after a week.
“Fuck, I’m so so sorry about that baby.”
Alex sniffled, “S okay…stuff like that still happens. ‘Sides, rather it be me than you.”
John shook his head, “No no, baby, no one should have that happen to them. Fuck, does it hurt?”
He shrugged. “Stings a bit, my body feels hot, but other than that, no, I guess?”
“God if that barista hadn’t done that I may have punched her.” Alex shook his head.
“I know I may not seem like it, but I don’t like violence. Violent ways to respond to stuff like that isn’t good. It just,” Alex sighed, taking the ice from John, “Just, let’s go home yeah?”
John, grumbling under his breath, nodded, starting the car. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke up, “I still want to have punched her.”
Alex chuckled quietly, “I know you would have baby, but I’m glad you didn’t.” He kissed him on the cheek, leaning back to his seat, “Sides, you can make it up to me at home after we take care of the burns.”
And if John drove over the speed limit by a few who was he to blame?