#fsl ask

[pit-stop-princess]

Say Less

Max Verstappen x Penny Goode (Hard of Hearing OFC)

Description: Penny likes her world quiet. Her café, her routine, her life far from the noise of Monaco’s Grand Prix. Max stumbles into that quiet by accident, all charm and curiosity, and keeps coming back. He learns her language. Learns her. But Max has secrets that roar at 300 kilometers an hour, and when the truth comes out, Penny has to decide if she wants to survive the noise.

Warnings: Hard of hearing OFC, light swearing, fluff, cuddles, kisses, angst, arguing, Max keeps a really big secret, sign language.

Notes: Penny is hard of hearing. There are many different ranges that come with being hard of hearing. Penny has moderate to moderately severe hearing loss, meaning speech can be difficult to understand, and/or speech and other sounds need to be significantly louder to be heard. Her hearing aids help to improve her hearing, but do not make it perfect. This story shows sign language as italics in quotation marks. The sign language in this story is French Sign Language (FSL).

Word Count: 4871

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Penny Goode is not an easy woman.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve known her for forever and a day, because she's waiting for someone. When you asked her who she was waiting for, she’d smile and shrug and sign, “We’ll see, won’t we?” 

Penny goes out of town for the Monaco Grand Prix. The sound of the cars messes with her hearing aids in a way that’s actually painful, the lights are too bright for her acute vision, and the music would cause the city to literally vibrate.

That, and her precious, quiet cafe gets bombarded by stupid, arrogant tourists. They complain about customer service and how nobody talks to them.

Maybe read the sign? That labels it as a Deaf cafe?

Yeah, she didn’t like Formula One. Grew up to hate everything it brought to her otherwise lovely hometown.

So Penny would leave like a bird going on migration.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max hadn’t meant to duck into a deaf cafe- it just sort of happened. He was trying to avoid a small mob of over-eager fans when he spotted the tucked-away spot, warm lighting glowing through old glass windows.

Inside, it was quiet in a way that instantly unsettled him. No music. No loud greetings. No jingle to announce his entrance. No one looked up when he entered.

He was still figuring out his surroundings when she appeared. Coppery hair in a bun, brown eyes that clocked him instantly. She didn’t look annoyed. More like... amused.

“You're obviously hearing,” she said dryly.

Max blinked. “Sorry?”

She shaped her hand at the barista behind the counter, who let out a small laugh and smiled. “I said, you’re obviously hearing.”

He smiled, a little sheepish. “I… don't really understand?”

“You’re staring like you wandered into the wrong universe. This is a deaf café.” She gave him a look. “I'm Penny, by the way.”

“I'm Max.” He laughed. “I think this is the wrong universe for me. How do I order?”

She helped him, translating his order smoothly into quick hand motions. When they sat, Max said, “That was sign language, right?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re talking to me.”

“You can be hearing and still sign.”

“So you’re hearing?”

“No.”

He looked genuinely confused. She smiled patiently. “I’m hard of hearing. I wear hearing aids, but they don’t make everything perfect.”

Max leaned forward, interest piqued. Her voice was smooth, each syllable carefully enunciated, practiced.

People were chatting all around them, but only with their hands. Some moved slowly, deliberately. Others fired off bursts of motion like lightning- fast, expressive, impossible to follow. A few laughed, actual sound, but even that felt soft or abrupt, like it was allowed but not expected.

Penny sipped her drink and leaned back in her chair like she belonged here. Like she’d always belonged here.

“This place feels very quiet,” Max murmured.

She raised an eyebrow. “That a bad thing?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Just... strange. I feel like I walked into a movie that already started and no one’s pausing it for me.”

Penny’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It's like that for us in your world a lot of the time. That’s what happens when you throw yourself in the deep end.”

Max watched a pair of teens signing to each other at the next table, barely glancing at their drinks. “They don’t even look up when they laugh. Like they already heard each other.”

“They did,” she said simply. “With their eyes.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

He kept coming back. Claimed it was “accidental.” Penny wasn’t convinced.

The second time, he said, “Hey, didn’t expect to see you again.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You came back to the same hidden café?”

Max shrugged, all innocent. “Good coffee.”

He asked more questions- about sign language, about her hearing, about her job. He found out she actually owned the cafe. Started it to support the people she loved.

He liked that more than he probably should’ve.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Penny told Max about the struggles of her hearing and different types of noises.

"Does the Grand Prix affect them?" He had asked with an inexplicable flicker of caution across his face.

"Yes. I have to leave town because of how bad it gets." She said with a small eyeroll. "I'm going to the U.S. this year to visit some national parks."

"Oh. That sounds nice."

Max dismissed himself quickly afterwards that day.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max signed up for a beginner’s FSL class. Penny found out because he proudly showed her his workbook.

“You’re learning this because of me?”

“Obviously.”

She laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

He pointed at her. “That was definitely a compliment.”

He practiced fingerspelling with her at the café, fumbling through simple motions. She teased him relentlessly.

“You just signed ‘a’ instead of ‘e’.”

“Dammit. I meant to spell your name.”

“My name is not 'Panny’, Max!” She laughed.

Max smiled.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

They were sitting at their usual table when Max, mid-sip of coffee, said casually, “So, wanna go out with me?”

Penny looked up, slow and amused. “About time.”

Across the room, the barista collected a ten-euro bill from a regular. Penny squinted. “Wait, did someone just lose a bet?”

The barista signed, “We had a pool.”

Max looked personally offended. “They bet against me?”

“Glad you won, I would riot if Danny won.” Penny signed to the barista. The regular, Danny, flipped her off. Penny returned it smugly. “It's not against you, it's for you.”

“I suppose.”

She gave him a look that was all challenge and soft affection. “Still want that date?”

Max’s grin could’ve lit the room. “Desperately.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

He planned everything. A gallery that featured Deaf and HOH artists. A rooftop café with warm lighting. Soft music. No crowd. Cozy lighting and excellent food.

Penny stared at him, stunned. “You thought about my hearing. About the noise. About... everything.”

Max shrugged like it was no big deal. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She fell a little then. Felt a little more seen.

They wandered by the harbor afterward. He asked if he could kiss her. She didn’t answer- she just leaned in and did it.

It felt like the start of something real.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

After the date, Max walked her home. Penny wasn’t quite ready to end the night. He was warm beside her, humming some soft tune under his breath, still signing slowly as he talked.

When they reached her building, she paused.

“You want to come up?” she asked casually. “I’ve got decent hot chocolate. Two judgmental cats. An overpriced Disney+ subscription.”

Max blinked, then smiled, slow and thrilled. “Absolutely.”

Inside, Flynn greeted him with a tail flick. Morris sat high on a bookshelf, clearly deciding if he approved.

Max sat on the couch like it was sacred ground. Penny brought hot chocolate, handed him a mug, and plopped beside him.

They talked until well past midnight, laughing, brushing fingers now and then, both pretending they weren’t leaning in closer with every hour.

And when Penny finally looked over at him, catching him mid-smile, cheeks pink and eyes soft, she thought- This will get dangerous.

And good gods, she hoped it would.

Max yawned eventually, head tipping back, and Penny nudged him with her knee. “You falling asleep on me?”

“I could be,” he said, setting his glass aside. “This couch is unfairly comfortable.”

“Or maybe I’m just unfairly comfortable to be around.”

“Both,” he said without hesitation.

She rolled her eyes with a quiet huff, then shifted on the couch, tucking one leg beneath her and twisting slightly to get more comfortable. Max watched her move, curious, until she patted her thigh in invitation, eyebrows raised.

“Come on,” she murmured. “You look like you need it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With a soft grin, Max stretched out along the couch like a cat, settling his head carefully in her lap. She adjusted again, fingertips brushing his hair back with ease. He let out a long breath, the kind of breath people only exhale when they feel safe.

Her fingers threaded gently through his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and he closed his eyes with a tiny smile.

Penny leaned back into the cushions, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the way his face relaxed under her touch.

“Comfortable now?” she asked, voice low.

Max didn’t open his eyes. “I’m never moving again.”

She chuckled softly, her hand still in his hair, her other lying lazily across his chest.

Flynn jumped onto the armrest. Morris slinked down to curl on the back cushion behind their head.

Max’s voice was quiet, not quite whispering. “This okay?”

Penny nodded into his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

And in the silence that followed, complete with soft breathing and quiet cats and the clink of their empty mugs on the coffee table, she realized her heart was making itself a tiny home right next to his.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max had started showing up more. Not every night, but often enough that Flynn stopped giving him the side-eye and Morris had decided his lap was an acceptable place for naps.

Penny hadn’t meant to let him become part of her routine. But he was. And it was weirdly easy.

Which was why, one Tuesday evening, when Max used his spare key (because yes, she had given him one, quietly, without making it a thing), he wasn’t surprised to find the apartment dimly lit, a candle burning, a book abandoned on the couch.

He was surprised when Penny didn’t look up.

She was in the kitchen, humming faintly as she chopped vegetables, unaware he’d walked in.

Max paused, a smile tugging at his lips.

Then it hit him- she didn’t have her hearing aids in.

She must’ve taken them out when she got home, not remembering he might come by. The street noise didn’t reach up here, and she probably felt safe in the soft quiet of her space.

He stepped carefully to the side, staying smooth so he didn’t startle her while she was holding a knife. Instead of yelling (useless) or waving (also ineffective at this angle), Max did what any competent, modern man would do:

He pulled out his phone and texted her.

> Max: I’m here in the doorway. Your kitchen smells amazing. Also, please don’t stab me when you turn around.

He watched as her phone, perched beside the cutting board, lit up. She glanced at it, read the message, and blinked.

Then she turned, saw him leaning in the doorway, grinning, and promptly burst out laughing.

She signed, “You scared the crap out of me.”

Max shook his head, then slowly signed, “I don’t understand.”

Penny reached for her phone and texted him.

> Penny: You startled me with stalker message vibes.

Then she pulled a case out of her pocket and took out her hearing aids, quickly putting them on. As she turned them on, she winced slightly as her ears adjusted.

She gave him a thumbs up, and Max turned the text thread to her. “I texted! Efficient communication!”

She walked over, still chuckling, and kissed his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Max raised both eyebrows. “So you do think I’m cute.”

She rolled her eyes and returned to her chopping.

He followed her to the counter, stealing a piece of carrot and popping it in his mouth. “You always take your hearing aids out the moment you get home?”

She shrugged. “Most days. It’s a lot, keeping them in. Noise fatigue is real.”

Max nodded slowly. “Makes sense. I hate listening to most people talk.”

She glanced over, something soft behind her eyes. “Uh, something like that.”

Max bumped her hip lightly. “Well, now I know. I’ll just text when I sneak in like a charming ninja.”

She laughed again, and he loved that sound. She loved hearing his voice when he was close and catching the warmth in his eyes.

Loved that she trusted him.

They cooked together that night, Max learning how she liked her noodles and the particular organization of her spice cabinet.

He stayed late. Again.

And when they curled up on the couch afterward, hearing aids now tucked away in a little dish by the door, Penny rested her head against his chest and felt the familiar thrum of his voice, low and warm, even if she couldn’t quite catch the words.

It didn’t matter.

They had more than one way to speak.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max had been more present than ever- cooking dinners, sharing quiet evenings, even enduring Morris's judgmental stares. Yet, tonight, something felt different. Penny felt it in the silence between sentences, in the way his bright blue eyes watched her with too much care, like he was bracing for something.

As she stirred the simmering sauce, Max leaned against the kitchen doorway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Hey," he began, voice tentative. "I need to talk to you about something."

Penny glanced over her shoulder. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, slowly. "I have to start traveling for work."

She turned fully now, wooden spoon forgotten. "Traveling? For how long?"

"A few weeks at a time, here and there," he replied, eyes suddenly very interested in the tile floor.

“A few weeks?” She crossed her arms. “Max, what exactly do you do?”

There was a pause, too long.

Then: “I'm a Formula One driver.”

The room didn’t fall silent- it was already silent. But something in the air went cold. Still.

Penny blinked. “A race car driver?”

He nodded.

She stepped back like the words physically knocked her off-balance. Her mouth opened, then closed again. She let out a slow, hollow breath.

“What the hell?” she said finally, “You’ve been hiding that from me?”

“I didn’t want it to change how you see me,” Max said quickly. “I wanted you to know me, not the persona. Not the... noise of it.”

Penny let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Noise? Max, are you hearing yourself?”

He winced. “Penny-”

“I avoid the Monaco Grand Prix. I literally leave town because it messes with my hearing aids. The engines make my hearing aids sound like they’re going to implode. And you-” she pointed at him, incredulous “-you’re part of that?”

His face dropped. “I didn’t want to lie. I just liked being normal around you. I liked being Max.”

She pressed a hand to her forehead, overwhelmed. “You weren’t just being ‘normal,’ Max. You were being dishonest.”

“I was scared.”

“Yeah, well,” she snapped, trembling, “you don’t get to protect yourself at my expense. I let you in. I brought you into my world, my home- God, into my quiet, and you kept a whole double life from me.”

Max stepped forward. “I didn’t think it would hurt you like this.”

Penny stepped back again. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how it would feel for me to realize I’ve been talking about growing up disliking Formula One- without knowing I was dating one of their drivers. Or how stupid I feel for not recognizing you. Or that you know this and still chose not to tell me.”

He looked gutted. “You’re not stupid.”

“I feel stupid,” she said quietly. “I feel... small. Like your real life is out there- fast cars, red carpets, and flashing cameras- and I’m just a pit stop between laps.”

“That’s not true,” he said immediately, fiercely.

She stared at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then why did you keep me separate?”

He had no answer.

The silence stretched. Thick. Heavy.

Penny turned back to the stove, turned it off. Her hands were shaking.

“I need some air,” she said.

“Penny-”

She shook her head and tore off her hearing aids, leaving them on the counter next to Max.

And with that, she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Max alone with two very judgmental cats and the quiet hum of a life that suddenly felt very far away from his.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

She didn’t go far- just to the park down the street, the one with the uneven benches and the tree that always bloomed too early. The cold air hit her lungs hard, grounding her more than comforting her.

She sat. Didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Just stared at nothing, hands folded tightly in her lap.

It wasn’t just that he lied.

It was that she had been honest. Messy, sure- but honest. She’d let him see her take out her hearing aids at night. Let him see the awkwardness when she missed a word, or the vulnerability in the silence. She’d invited him into that world and he hadn’t even told her he wasn’t fully in it with her.

And now?

Now she could see it so clearly: the way people watched him sometimes. How he always wore hats. How some café regulars whispered or stared. The expensive shoes. The way his shoulders carried something he never talked about.

She felt stupid.

She hated feeling stupid.

Most of all, she hated that part of her still wanted to be home- on the couch, with Max asleep beside her and Morris curled up in a ball like none of this had happened.

She pressed her palms into her eyes and sat very still.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max stood in the kitchen far longer than he realized, surrounded by the smell of half-cooked sauce and the absence of Penny.

He sat down eventually, elbows on the table, head in his hands.

He knew he’d messed up. He’d known from the first time she made a joke about celebrity clients and he said nothing. It wasn’t malice. Just cowardice. A desperate, selfish attempt to hold on to a version of himself that wasn’t constantly moving, constantly scrutinized.

He liked who he was around her. She didn’t treat him like a brand. She didn’t flinch at the silences. She made him feel... seen. And not the way fans saw him. Not with awe or expectation.

She saw the Max who messed up alphabet signs and who talked too much when he was nervous.

But he hadn’t trusted her with all of himself. Not really.

He remembered the way she’d flinched- how fast she’d put emotional distance between them. Not because she didn’t care. Because she cared enough for this to hurt.

He glanced at the quiet apartment. The cats watched him like they understood. Morris narrowed his eyes from the windowsill, and Flynn flicked his tail in a way that felt distinctly judge-y.

“I know,” Max muttered. “I’m a stupid idiot.”

He sat back, stared at the ceiling, and whispered the thing that scared him the most.

“I think I’m in love with her.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Max left the next day.

He didn’t push for a decision. He didn’t ask for promises. He just kissed her forehead softly before walking out her door, suitcase in hand and eyes impossibly sad.

And Penny… Penny let him go.

The apartment was too quiet after that. Not just hearing-aid-out quiet. Empty quiet.

She kept herself busy- work, classes, the cats. Flynn sprawled dramatically across her keyboard. Morris started sleeping in Max’s usual couch spot like he was laying claim to the absence.

Every now and then, Max texted her photos: sunrises over paddocks, funny pitlane snacks, a dog he saw at the airport with the biggest ears she’d ever seen. He never pressured her. Just… kept showing up quietly in her inbox.

She watched one of his races. Muted. No captions. Just the shapes of cars and commentators’ mouths moving like fish behind glass.

She didn’t even know which car was his.

She cried.

And hated that she cried.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣����

When Max walked back into her apartment, he expected silence.

What he got was Penny pacing the living room like a woman possessed, a notebook tucked under one arm and her hair messily pinned like she hadn’t stopped moving long enough to fix it.

“Sit,” she ordered, not even looking at him.

He sat.

She dropped the notebook on the coffee table and started pacing again. “I tried watching the damn race. On TV. No aids.”

Max opened his mouth, but she plowed on.

“Did you know their captions aren’t even up to code? Like, completely useless. They lag. They cut off. They translate engine noise as [APPLAUSE], which is- what?- not helpful.” She flailed a hand dramatically.

Max blinked. “I-”

“And the cameras don’t even follow just one car! They keep cutting and jumping around and then suddenly it’s like, oh! The race is over. Did Max win? Who’s to say! Let’s look at a man with a mustache holding champagne.”

Max tried again. “Penny, I-”

“I googled you, by the way.”

That shut him up.

She turned to face him fully now, arms crossed. “Max Verstappen. Four-time World Champion. Youngest F1 driver ever. Some kind of racing god according to, like, seventeen very intense Reddit threads. Did you know that? Did you know you drive at three hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“…Approximately,” he said weakly.

She narrowed her eyes, then kept pacing. “I didn’t know any of that. Because you didn’t tell me. Because instead of just saying, ‘Hey Penny, I’m literally a motorsport legend,’ you were like, ‘teehee I do some travel for work.’”

“Okay, that’s not exactly how I said it-”

“And it matters, Max!” she burst out, arms wide. “Because I care about you! And I want to know the real version of your life, even the loud, chaotic, fire-spitting parts that make my hearing aids cry!”

Max stood halfway. “I didn’t want it to scare you away.”

“It should’ve!” she snapped, voice cracking just a bit. “It almost did.”

He froze.

Penny took a shaky breath. “But it didn’t.”

And then, quieter: “Because I missed you. And I wanted to understand. I wanted to see you in that world- even if I couldn’t hear it.”

She stepped closer. Max reached out slowly, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch her yet.

She let him.

“I want to come to your next race,” she said softly. “In person.”

His eyes widened. “You- you do?”

“Yes. But between now and then,” she poked his chest, firm, “you’re gonna teach me all the fancy light up signs and pit board nonsense and what every aggressive steering wheel button does, so I can understand it as it’s happening. Because I won’t be able to wear my aids. And I want to feel what the rest of the world hears. Got it?”

Max grinned, wide and stunned and so completely relieved. “Got it.”

“Good.”

“…Do I get a hug now?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I missed you.”

He didn’t say anything after that- just folded her into his arms like he’d been waiting for the world to start spinning again.

And this time, it did.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Penny hadn’t worn her hearing aids all morning.

She kept them tucked away in their case, zipped tight in her bag. She didn’t even bring the backup batteries. She needed to commit. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it on her terms.

Still, as she stepped out of the car with Max, her entire body buzzed. The vibrations in the concrete. The sun was beating on the circuit and the stands. The whirr of tires, the sharp scents of rubber and oil, the blur of bodies and movement, and mouths she couldn’t hear.

She exhaled slowly.

Okay.

She could do this.

She was dressed simply- blue jeans, stolen Red Bull jacket from Max, hair in a single braid down her back- but she moved with quiet, grounded purpose. Max, already in his Red Bull team kit, kept a hand lightly on her back as they walked through the security gates. Not possessive. Just... anchored. Like he wanted people to see.

And people did see.

Within ten seconds of crossing the barrier, three dozen photographers angled their lenses. Team staff paused mid-step. A social media coordinator, halfway through an iced coffee, dropped her phone. Literally.

The whispers didn’t reach Penny. Her hearing aids were off, safely zipped in her bag, but the body language around her said enough. Stares. Double-takes. A few knowing grins from the pit crew who’d clearly been briefed.

Max leaned in, signing quickly, “You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes fondly and signed back: “You’re ridiculous.”

He grinned (even though he had no idea what she just signed) and kept walking, fingers occasionally brushing against hers. At one point, he dropped her hand to wave at a journalist, then immediately laced their fingers together again without thinking. Penny’s stomach fluttered. He wasn’t hiding her. Not even a little.

Christian Horner passed them with a lifted eyebrow and a smirk barely hidden. Max nodded respectfully. Penny gave a polite wave. She didn’t get team politics, but she knew a boss when she saw one.

The closer they got to the garage, the louder the vibrations became. Penny could feel the engines spooling up in the background. Her whole rib cage buzzed with it.

He laughed, a quiet sound she didn’t hear but felt in the way his chest shook as he stepped forward and took her hand.

Then, carefully, slowly, he fingerspelled something.

“Y-U-K-I.” He pointed over his shoulder. “T-E-A-M-M-A-T-E.”

Penny grinned. “You practiced names?” She signed.

He nodded. “G-P. E-N-G-I-N-E-E-R.” Another point. Then he signed, “I need to go.”

Her heart squeezed.

Here, in the most chaotic, overstimulating place she’d ever willingly stepped into, Max was a still point. A calm center.

He stepped close, “I’m happy you’re here. I love you.”

Her throat tightened. She took his hand again and squeezed.

“I love you.” She signed back.

She turned to climb the stairs to the viewing platform, feeling every step like she was floating and falling at the same time.

Down below, Max pulled on his fireproof balaclava and helmet, but not before the cameras caught the unmistakable glint in his eyes as he watched her go.

And just like that, it was a fast and furious hard launch. It was Max Verstappen walking into a Grand Prix weekend with a girl by his side, hand in hand.

And the whole damn paddock knew it.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

The garage was a blur of motion. People moved with purpose, headphones clamped to ears, hands flying across tablets, faces tense and focused. Penny stood tucked near the back wall, just out of the way but not hidden, wearing a team lanyard and a borrowed jacket several sizes too big.

She felt like a thread in a tapestry she couldn’t quite see the full picture of.

But Max had made sure she could be there.

Penny stood at the edge of the viewing deck, fingers curled tightly around the railing. Her hearing aids were zipped safely away in her bag. Everything below stretched out in sun and smoke and velocity- yet the world was silent.

No announcer. No engines. Just the rumble in her chest like a second heartbeat. It was a feeling.

Below, mechanics scattered like ants around the grid. Cars lined up like bullets in a chamber. The moment swallowed her whole.

She searched for Max’s car. #1, Red Bull blue streaked with red and dark blue. Even from here, she could see how still he was in the cockpit. Tensed. Coiled. The storm before.

The lights started to blink out. Her breath caught.

The world paused-

And then exploded.

The vibrations slammed into her all at once- through the soles of her boots, up her spine, rattling her ribs. The cars shot forward in a blur and Penny gripped the rail tighter, heart in her throat. No noise, no commentary, no way to hear what was happening.

Max overtook in the first three laps. She caught it, just barely, the flicker of his car darting right, braking impossibly late, hugging corners with calculated violence. The crowd roared beneath her perception, but the way they surged up from their seats gave her all the feedback she needed.

He was moving.

She followed, catching glimpses of the race in mirrored panels and pit boards. The screen above showed timing- her fingers tapped along with each sector passed.

Max was fast. Dangerous. But also... beautiful in motion. Calculated chaos. She couldn't hear him, but gods, she understood him here.

At some point a safety car was deployed. A crash on the other side of the circuit. The tension was immediate, the field frozen. Penny’s heart pounded. Her fingers danced reflexively over her phone, watching team updates scroll in.

Then: restart. More laps. More corners devoured by Max’s car.

And finally-

The checkered flag.

The moment it dropped, she knew. Not from the sound, but the swell of movement. The pit exploded with action. Team members jumped. Hands flew up. Flags whipped. Someone across the deck was crying.

And then-

Max.

Helmet off. Sprinting. Straight toward her.

She barely had time to brace before he found her on the steps, pulling her down into the paddock, signing with breathless urgency.

“We won. I won.”

Then, without waiting, he kissed her, and she kissed back.

And it was kinda perfect.

[tw1nkee28]

No one asked for this, but I really needed to infodump about him to someone or I was gonna go insane.

˙⋆✮ Info about my CoD oc, 'Dawn'! ✮⋆˙

⚠️Warning!⚠️ There will be a lot of words and one image containing (mild) nudity below the cut. (A shirtless man, in case you are uncomfortable with such)

The first image is a reference for the finer details of his character such as his hairstyle, his facial details like his nose and eyes, and his major scars.

The second image is more of how I envisioned his body type, but I struggle with consistency and being able to convey some bodies in different angles and intricate poses.

——————————————————————————

These are just some drawings I've made of his character as I was developing him.

While he is a rather calm individual, being stoic and silent most of the time, he does still get rather angry on the inside. Which is what I was trying to convey in the first image.

He respects his peers and superiors, but when they do legitimately stupid shit, he can and will rock their shit depending on how bad it was.

I've included this in his lore before but I am too nervous to share some of the finer details of his lore and will only be vaguely referencing it, sorry ☹️🫶

——————————————————————————

I made a janky, very brief timeline of his career above.

Now, I haven't filed through complete details so some things such as his rank and experience in the field may or may not be entirely accurate with the time he was working especially since I made his character on the fly and did little to no research at first. Only now am I actually trying to expand his character and lore and am realizing I did not do nearly enough research. Most of this is just what I thought sounded nice at first.

——————————————————————————

More in-detail information below ↓

Name: Julius Harper Aliases: Dawn, 7-28

Nationality: Filipino Ethnicity: Eastern Asian

Age: 32 DoB: June 19, 1992

Pronouns: He/Him Gender: Cis Man Sex: M

Sexuality: Unlabeled, prefers men

Height: 6'2

Languages: Tagalog, English, FSL (Filipino sign language, for Dusk)

Which CoD universe: Modern Warfare (ii)

Branches of Service: Marine Corps

Affiliation: Shadow Company

Specialities: hand to hand, a variety of front line infantry skills, long range, basic first aid

Personality: usually grumpy and quiet. switches between sassy, rude, and teasing(towards close people) and quiet, obedient, and stoic. He's technically a strong and silent type around most people, usually very distrusting and distant. He's very good at following orders unless they're outright stupid, then he'll put up a fight about them.

Backstory: (my attempt at being brief, sorry🙏) given to an (underground) training organization with unconventional training methods at a young age, was tortured and ridiculed for disobeying (his scars on his face and chest🫶), escaped with force when he was 17(nearly 18). Had to travel by himself to the US and rely on strangers to get him there (no money to his name).

Eventually joined the Marines at 20, met Dusk (his Colonel). Blah blah blah, went up the ranks. At 28 he dragged Dusk out of the field half exploded and left the Marines soon after Dusk did. Joined Shadow Company 🫶

Issues: PTSD, nightmares, paranoia, nervous at being touched randomly

Habits: never takes off his mask unless he's REALLY comfortable, sleeps with it on more often than not. Hovers close to people he likes cause he doesn't like to reach out and touch people, settling on subtle hands on shoulders or light brushes of skin. Watches and evaluates anyone and everyone in the same room as him, constantly searching for any red flags or threats.

Scars: One over each eye (resembling clown markings)

One running over his bottom lip and down his chin.

One running from his collar bone to below his navel.

A mix of bullet, knife, and other scars from his field work scattered over his arms and hands.

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language: acts of service, quality time, ("secretly") physical touch.

Preferred way of receiving care/affection: words of affirmation, physical touch

Eye Color: left eye pale yellow with brown center, right eye green with yellow center. has heterochromia

Hair description: short and dusty brown with two streaks of early greying. Two long pieces in front of either ear, short in the back.

Clothing description: SC Uniform - beige tactical vest stocked with red and yellow(ish) Chem lights, roll of thin rope, and three mags. Black, long-sleeve zip-neck shirt with the shadow company insignia on the sleeve. Black balaclava, black helmet and goggles with attachable headphones connected to comms. Black tactical cargo pants, black belt with two storage pouches attached at either side of his hips, and a right handed gun holster. Very dark brown/black combat boots.

Not in uniform - form fitting short-sleeve shirts and jeans most of the time. Occasionally switching it up for loose shirts when his compression shirts feel too tight and strangling for a casual day. He wears belts to at least make it seem like he cares about his outfits, even though he doesn't really put effort. Picking up whatever dark colored shirts and jeans he can find and calling it a day most of the time.

Body description: well-built Filipino man with hooded eyes. He has a bit of stubble along his jaw, forgetting to shave often. Freckles are speckled over his face, arms, neck and shoulders, and legs. Body hair over his chest, arms, and legs mainly. Occasionally lets other Shadows paint his nails when they ask (requests black but can't say no if they choose another) so sometimes has painted nails.

Favorite activities: sitting outside with nature, playing guitar, going to the bar with Dusk to spend time and catch up, reteaching Dusk guitar

Blood type: O-

Favorite animal(s): Cats, snakes, birds in general

Favorite food/dessert: Pork Adobo, Graves' cooking (it's his guilty pleasure at cookouts, you can't convince me that Graves doesn't stand at a grill making food for his Shadows for a cookout on an off day)

• born in Marawi City; Mindanao, Philippines

——————————————————————————

He's generally like a big dog that doesn't realize it's own size, like a great Dane of sorts. Protective, loyal to a fault with aggressive tendencies towards those he doesn't know/trust. Silent and strong, unless he's with someone close to him

He enjoys his quiet time and regular meets up with an old friend of his, back from his Marine days, the both of them learning electric guitar and playing together sometimes to loosen up.

He's a workaholic all in all, not having many hobbies or activities out side of his work.

He lives at base, having been out on the streets before starting his career in the military.

——————————————————————————

He earned his scars on his face and chest when he was about 16-17, fleeing his state as soon as he was nearing 18 (lore reasons that I'm too nervous to share with people) and living on the streets with a lengthy theft history until he joined the Marines at 20 years old. Where he met his previously mentioned 'old friend', his Colonel, call sign 'Dusk'.

His shadow company number is 7-28. No I did not do research on the actual numbers, I just chose random ones that sounded nice on my tongue. Plus 28 is like,,, my number, if you couldn't tell by my user.

If anyone understands the number system better and would like to help me out by correcting me, I would appreciate that very much. But for now, it is Shadow 7-28.

His lore and titles were developed before I put him in Shadow Company canonically, so shit like him being a Lieutenant and other things that would require him to have years and years of experience to get would be from his career in the Marines before then. I'm assuming he would have to start fresh since he joined a new company? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believeeee he'd have to start fresh with SC with things like titles.

He does still keep his old mask since Dusk helped him with it, but now he really only wears the shadow company uniform and gear. Swapping his plain black balaclava for his old one with the skull-like details when he's back at base relaxing.

Smaller details about him!! ↓

Favorite color - Green !!

Favorite activities - sitting outside with nature, playing guitar, going to the bar with his found-family Brother (Dusk) to spend time and catch up

Favorite animal - cats ! Specifically black cats (he feels they're misunderstood)

• HATES ships and deep water

• used to (attempt to) pick up stray cats he found on the streets and try to bring them home as a kid.

• doesn't like training new recruits but is always put in charge of training them because of his leadership skills. (This happened to me in band a long while back, apparently my teacher thought I was a 'silent leader' and was really good at leading others subconsciously even if I hated being a leader??? That's him, that's Dawn. Silent leader)

• has nightmares frequently

• will deny liking someone, going as far as saying he hates them even if as soon as they leave the room he smiles on the inside because, hey! Someone wants to be close to him! That's new!

• tried drawing once, it looked like a kids drawing. he never picked up a pencil to draw again

• has really nice handwriting?? Wtf???

• He's a lieutenant!!

• spent years training to be a sniper that he's now unnecessarily still and silent while working on smaller tasks that require even the slightest bit of focus such as paperwork.

——————————————————————————

Info about 'Dusk' since he's a big part of their lore ↓

These are all the drawings I've done of him so far ↑

While I haven't gone deep into lore for him, I do have a few small facts about him that have played a part in Dawn's lore.

——————————————————————————

• He is 6'3, standing only an inch taller than Dawn.

• he was Dawn's Colonel for most of their career before they joined Shadow Company.

• just before Dawn had left to join SC, Dusk had gotten caught too close to an explosion. Having been dragged back to the base by Dawn himself and after healing, was left with very little sight and hearing on his left side. He struggled to be able to do many tasks that he needed to be able to complete to keep his job afterwards and had to quit.

• he cut off his long hair after the explosion burned off a lot of his hair, being left with very little long hair left on his right side. He felt it looked odd and cut it off so it could regrow at its own pace. Some parts of his scalp on his left side having damaged the actual skin there making it very hard/impossible to regrow it in some patches.

• he started learning guitar before joining the military, having been the one who inspired Dawn to learn and having lent Dawn their first ever guitar.

• was the one who gave Dawn his callsign

• he's Filipino, one of the many traits he and Dawn bonded over

• acts as Dawn's older brother later on in their career together after years of knowing each other. He has two siblings at home while Dawn is an only child

——————————————————————————

Fun fact! He was slightly based off of my older brother, named Dusk :)

While some parts of his character were based off of him, the name was surprisingly not, it just happened to match up with Dawn while I was making them 🫶

——————————————————————————

If you couldn't tell, Dawn is my baby and my favorite OC. I love him very much and will probably expand on his lore and such at some point, but for now, this is what we have.

Thank you if you read all of this ❤️

[grimm-the-tiger]

Heyy I'm the anon that sent you that ask about SatW headcanons. These are just some of the many, many ones I have

Iceland is blind. This is because of my headcanon of him being albino, and people with albinism don't usually have great sight, so my headcanon was born

Finland is mute and communicates with sign language. He knows Finnish Sign Language (FSL) and American Sign Language (ASL)

Sweden has a prosthetic leg. He lost it in the Great Northern War

Sister Sweden has a prosthetic arm. She lost it in a similar way as her brother

Both the America siblings have vitiligo

I have Sister America, Sister Finland, and Sister Norway as the main representatives of the countries as opposed to their brothers. I. Have reasons for this.

I'm gonna be honest? Your headcanons are a lot cooler than mine. These are awesome.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Summary: Hoping to score a dinner date, Sawyer approaches Jesinia after weeks of practicing sign language with his squadmates.

AN: Obviously we haven’t been given any details on handshape, orientation, or NMMs in Navarrian Sign Language, so for the purposes of the fic the signing error Sawyer makes is realistic to ASL. I don’t know any sign languages for other countries, so if this mistake is totally unrealistic in BSL, FSL, etc, I’m unfamiliar with the language.

In this work I mention Sawyer has a name sign. For readers who don't know much about ASL, a name sign is a sign created by a Deaf individual and given to a friend, coworker, aquaintance, etc. and a shorthand to avoid fingerspelling someone's full name. It is usually based around a trait in one's physical appearance or personality and can only be given by a member of the Deaf community. To make things simple, I designed Sawyer's name sign around the flicking movement for the word metal (signet), replacing the X handshape with an S handshape to tie in his first initial.

Anywhoville, enjoy!

He was just asking her out to dinner, nothing more. And if she said no... He would probably never show his face among the Aretian scribes again.

"Don't you think that's a bit dramatic, Sawyer?"  Sliseag grumbled. "The girl is passive, her companions more so. A failed romantic pursuit would not be the end of your welcome, I'm certain."

"I would not call a woman willing to commit treason on the vague word of a friend passive, Sliseag," he snipped back.

"Then this exile from scribe territory would be a self-inflicted act of cowardice? That is not a trait I chose you for, boy."

He rolled his eyes at the exaggerated remark. Exile was a rather heavy term for his potential predicament, but he wasn't about to argue semantics with a dragon. "This must be the arrogant shit Violet grumbles about when it comes to Tairn."

Hearing a scuffing sound against the stone floor, he threw his shield in place, cutting off his dragon's next quip as Jesinia stepped into view. "Good afternoon, Sawyer," she greeted him, utilizing the sign name she'd given him a few weeks after meeting. It was blunt, as most of the language was prone to be, playing off of the sign for metal thanks to his signet, though the X handshape was replaced by an S to link in his name. Her hand lingered below her chin, fingers slowly uncurling from the loose fist the sign created. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked over his shoulder, likely noting he was unaccompanied for once. Ridoc of all people had been the one to point out that for all Sawyer's visits here and his interest in learning to sign, he'd yet to drop by without a wingman. "Are you stopping in for Violet? I sent her a missive about a translation aid I stumbled upon." 

"No. Not today. Though I'm happy to take something back, if need be. I wanted to talk to you about something outside of rider business. If you have a moment."

Brushing her dark hair back, she dipped her chin in a short nod, gesturing for him to join her at the nearest table. "Is everything alright. You seem a bit nervous."

"Nervous? No. It's just that my signing is..." He paused, trying to recall the sign for rudimentary—a word that didn't necessarily exist in NSL. "...basic," he finished, his dominant hand circling a few inches below his left. "One of my squadmates is normally here to help." Jesinia cocked her head slightly, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, I'm a little nervous. Not only about signing something wrong. Let me be more direct. I was hoping to take you to dinner."

Her eyes flared wide at that, and not just due to surprise at the request. Something went wrong in his request. "To eat," he tried to repair the miscommunication, whatever it had been.

Understanding seemed to dawn and it was clear she was trying to hide her amusement. "Dinner?" she asked, first fingerspelling, then double-tapping a D hand against her mouth, palm turned inward. He nodded in confirmation. Pausing a moment, she kept the D shape, bouncing it from her chin to the back of her jaw. "That sign is dorm."

He winced. "Now I look like an ass."

"You look like a man trying to learn a new means of communication. I have great appreciation for that effort. Learning languages beyond childhood can be difficult." She smiled again. "And I would love to go to dinner with you, Sawyer."

He grinned right back. "Are you free tonight?"

~~~~~

End Note: If I have any d/Deaf, hard of hearing, or CODA readers who think I could better structure this fic regarding signing elements and word choice, please know that you are more than welcome to reach out. I always appreciate polite feedback on my work and want to do everything I can to encourage representation in my writing. I am not fluent, so I know this might not be perfect. All I ask is that comments remain respectful in their correction.

[malwaredetected]

hi hi I got some questions

#1 what are your favorite Duncan headcannons

#2 what are your favorite Duncan ships

#3 what are your headcannons for Duncan

and last one #4 what’s your favorite trio/duo in total drama it can be any season

sorry if this like idk weird or something

1: FAV DUNCAN HEADCANONS:

-i rlly love the autistic duncan hc, idk

-HOH (hard of hearing) DUNCAN!!! this may be projection because im hoh but i rlly love this idea!!! hoh people need more rep tbh

-TRANSMASC!!!

-or, alternatively, TRANSFEM!!!

-he really likes fnaf

-like really likes fnaf

-he had a crush on alejandro at the beginning of wt. don't ask

2: FAV DUNCAN SHIPS:

ALEDUNCAN !!!

scuncan

dunnoah

dunhar

deather

gwuncan

duncody

duncney (only in a very specific way)

3: DUNCAN HEADCANONS:

-he's 3/4 french canadian and 1/4 indonesian

-he's hard of hearing!!! he uses hearing aids

-he speaks english, french, asl and fsl (french sign language)

-autism

-adhd

-special interest of like 5 years is pyrotechnics

-also really likes fnaf

-he used to make fnaf cosplays but then noah found his tiktok account and he deleted it out of sheer embarrassment

-his faves are ennard and foxy

-jack stauber enjoyer!!!

-lemon demon fan

-also loves the smiths, his fav song is this charming man (it reminds him of alejandro)

[an-unexpected-sideblog]

I was recently asked how I would translate the phrase, "I want to fuck you" in Neo-Khuzdul (NKh), and the answer is probably longer than you'd expect!

So, one thing TDS doesn't currently offer in his published NKh is a separate list of expletives/vulgarities, and while he provides a translation for "making love," that's a very very different connotation than "fucking."

*Disclaimer, for this post I'm just talking about the verb forms, not the expletive when someone says on its own "fuck!"

TL;DR, I would translate "I want to fuck you" as "azrali d'efsulzu" (directed at someone masc).

As far as what already exists, TDS lists the radical [FSL] as: "sexuality, male genital organ, copulation (sexual intercourse), copulater, to copulate (to mate), to fornicate." However, only those first two actually have dictionary entries. This gives me a starting place, but from here on I'm just playing in the space! As with all my work, this is NOT officially approved by TDS.

To get "to copulate/to have sex" as a starting place, I chose an AA type verb (as this is related to noun types 2 and 10). E.g.:

fasala: he copulated (Perfect)

tafsali: he copulates (Imperfect)

To make this vulgar (to fornicate/to fuck), I decided to get... creative, lol. Instead of creating another form of the verb with ja- or an AI-type verb or any other option, I decided to use the specific verb form EAE, that means "to use a tool". Thus, my version of "to fuck" literally means "to use a cock (like a tool)." Sounds pretty vulgar, right?

efsil ai-mefsu!: go fuck yourself! (disr. masc/neut) / lit. "go use a penis on yourself"

mefsil!: get fucked! (imperative passive) / lit. "be used by a penis"

So in conclusion, "azrali d'efsulzu" is literally, "I-want (to)-(use-a-cock)-(on-you)." For other genders, this would be "azrali d'efsulzi" for fem, and "azrali d'efsulza" for nonbinary.

This is part of my ongoing effort to compile and create NKh expletives, which I'll eventually post to tumblr if there's demonstrated interest! Thanks for reading :)

[tameimpala222]

Wowww I was on this fan forum from 2006 where they were speculating about Justin and Britney’s relationship post breakup, and all my theories and speculations about them in 2006-2007 are confirmed!

Britney literally left out a whole chunk of stuff that happened between her and Justin in 2006-2007 (right before her meltdown) in her memoir and acted like he was already out of her life by then, BUT weirdly enough all these events between them were captured in Justin’s 20/20 Experience part 2 album (2013).

I mean… all of the tabloids and rumors and gossips posted in this thread (it goes on for another 3 more threads until mid 2007) were basically confirmed in Justin’s album. Like the craziest part is that the fans were posting all these stuff in like, 2006 and Justin kind of confirmed these stuff like, 7 years later lol. I am feeling so vindicated now!!

Some points:

1. Daily Mail tabloid about Britney bombarding Justin with 10-20 calls everyday after her divorce with Kevin and him having mixed feelings about it because he tries to be there for her but feels like she’s using him as a crutch and wants her to get herself together and come out on top —> Justin sang about it in ‘Only When I Walk Away’ in 20/20 part 2

2. OK Magazine reported that Justin was seen going to Britney’s pre-birthday celebration in a club with JC and the MMC gang in Dec 2006 (after divorce from Kevin) and she was caught on video dancing to SexyBack, other reports saying they hooked up (he ended things with Cameron in Dec too), other tabloids saying he flew down to Manhattan when Britney called him saying she ended things with a boyfriend and stayed at his rented flat until 4am —> TKO in 20/20 part 2

3. OK Magazine reported they saw Justin and his mom driving into Britney’s Malibu house right after her breakdown to meet up with her family despite him being busy on tour for FSLS, reports of him asking his mom to keep watch on Britney’s condition until she gets better, Justin sending a letter to Britney while she was in rehab telling her that he wishes they met when they were older because they would probably be married with kids by then and told her he’s rooting on her to get better - Pair of Wings, Blue Ocean Floor in 20/20 part 1 and part 2

4. There are other stuff like Justin and Britney saying in one interview that they haven’t spoken to each other for 2 years or since the breakup, then in other interviews Britney would say she talked to him once or twice after the breakup, Justin would say he called her up after her breakdown to ask if she was ok, Britney was papped leaving his house in March 2003, Fred Durst telling an interviewer that Britney ditched their date to visit Justin in London, tabloids of Kevin and Britney arguing because she and Justin still talk on the phone, etc. They’re literally contradicting themselves so I say they’re just lying about not contacting each other. - ‘Amnesia’ on 20/20 part 2 was written due to these conflicting feelings about her I guess.

I think there’s more but I need to listen to 20/20 part 2 again to see if Justin has addressed some of the tabloids/rumors in his songs.

But yeah… sus af that Britney conveniently left out this entire chunk from her book. I mean, she didn’t even mention about him trying to talk to her after the disastrous 2007 VMAs performance backstage but was stopped by her team (their mutual friend Nikki Deloach actually confirmed all this on her podcast actually so it did happen).

If one day Justin decides to tell his side of the story about his relationship with Britney, I hope he will address this ‘black hole’ period of time, but then again he has technically already told it in 20/20 Experience part 2 so…

[poetnix29]

My introduction!

(Last updated: 05/21/25)

Greeting: Hello Tumblr! It's very nice to be here in this community. I hope you enjoy my works and your day :)

Name: My user may be 'poetnix29', but feel free to call me Poetnix or just Nix.

Birthday: I was born on June 29.

Gender + Pronouns: I am not revealing my gender but I'm okay with any pronouns anytime.

Nationality: I am a proud Filipino!🇵🇭

Current interests: Transformers, Metallica (not really a fandom but whatevs), CRK

Other places you can find me: Ao3 (Archive of Our Own)

Now some fun facts/a short Q&A about me and my poetry~

Q: Why did you choose 'Poetnix' as your user/nickname online?

A: 'Poetnix' is actually a combination between the words 'poet' and 'phoenix'. Phoenix is my second name and 'poet' because.. well.. I write poetry!

Q: What languages do you speak?

A: I am more fluent in English, ironically (Mostly the reason why I write poetry in the first place). I speak Tagalog as well, not the most fluent. I'm looking in to learn FSL (Filipino Sign Language)!

Q: What is your aim with this account?

A: Just to share some poetry and my love for the Transformers franchise.

Q: Why do you put '(More info under the cut.)' at the bottom of your poems?

A: I put that because I wish to tell people of my point of inspiration, my personal interpretation of my own poems, and some other details that may help you as a reader to better understand my works :)

Q: How do we know it's you actually replying to our asks?

A: I always put a '-🖋️' at the end.

[leemonayde]

ok I've put some thought into it.

What I think would belong in a Ratatouille Sequel, in my personal and biased opinion:

Linguini and Colette would be a step further into their relationship.

This really depends on how much time has passed (I think it would have to be a year) but based on how close they were after they started dating and in the epilogue portion of the movie, it would make complete sense for them to be making a "next step." I don't know if this means moving in together, marriage, or maybe even like having a child, but it wouldn't make sense if that wasn't a thing that happened.

2. The whole Remy doing FSL (French Sign Language) thing.

I already talked about this a little in the last post, but Remy needs to have better communication with the characters. I believe that he would also start learning how to write.

3. There would be some kind of "soup" scene

you know the scene from the first movie where Remy makes that first soup and the vibes are just off the chart? This would be necessary in a sequel. But it would need buildup. I imagine that the events of the movie cause Remy to lose track of the *true* meaning of cooking, where he finds himself obsessed and not enjoying it the craft. Then, he turns to a pot, and stops for second, before becoming completely lost in cooking. It would be a beautiful scene, a wonderful moment, and the best damn soup the world had ever tasted.

4. Most importantly, Remy would get very politicly active about speaking out for rat-kind.

There is no way you can tell me that Remy would be ok with hiding in the restaurant without anyone in the outside world knowing he was making the food. I think this is one of the more commonly forgotton plot points, but Remy was obsessed with making a change, not only for himself, but for all rats.

He always wanted a better life for himself and his family, and was ready to fight for it, which is exactly what he did. Of course, it didn't seem that Remy accomplished this goal to the fullest. Sure, he got a small rat cafe running so that his family could eat good food, but that doesn't solve the whole rat = kill issue.

And the second piece. Remy does not sit well without getting recognized for his talent. That much was obvious when he almost outed Linguini when he was interviewed by the press. He got jealous, and angry when Linguini took credit, even if it was to protect him.

With both of these combined, I firmly believe that this concept would take the main story. Remy would want to be public, and he would take every chance he got to speak his truth. In a way, this attitude can already be seen in the short, Your Friend the Rat (its really cute I recommend watching it if you can). Not even 20 seconds in, and he's already on a roll. I couldn't find the clip but heres the dialogue.

Remy: Hello, I'm Remy, and this is my brother Emile.

Emile: (waves) Hi.

Remy: We're here to speak out on behalf of oppressed rats everywhere.

Emile: (groans) Oh man.

Remy: Rats who don't have the access to media that our movie affords us.

Emile: We're speaking out?

Remy: Yes, we have to. (slams paw into other) We rats need to take a stand.

The other rats may not be completely with him on it, but we already know that other's disapproval never stopped Remy before.

I feel that its important to note that I am not asking for there to be a Ratatouille sequel. The original is a masterpiece and I'd honestly be scared of Disney ruining any attempt at a second movie. That is to say, if they did ever make one, you can absolutely trust that I will be in the theatre watching it on opening night.

[singsweetmelodies]

gooddddd morning! thank you for the tag, @boxboxbrioche my love - this is a very cute way to start the day! 🥰

name: katie, kt, occasionally KATIEEEEE!!!

sign: SCORPIO 😏 that'd explain a lot, wouldn't it? but no. it's actually virgo, i believe.

time: it's 6:39 AM as i'm typing this out. i know, i know 😮‍💨 i'm not actually a morning person, either. but the job & the studies are relentless 😔

favourite band/artist: band is little mix, and artist is taylor swift 💕

last movie: barbie!! loved it. 🩷

last show: heartstopper 🥺🫶

when i created this blog: i think it was around april/may 2022? not entirely sure... somewhere thereabouts

other blogs: yep, one - @ohmygasly. but before anyone gets too excited: no, i don't actually do anything there. i just use it to save ask games and prompt lists to my drafts there (because god knows my drafts on this blog are far too crazy/too many for me to ever be able to find anything here, lmao.)

do i get asks: oh yes! quite frequently. i love them 🥰 (though it must be said, i am rather terrible at replying in any kind of timely fashion. i have great intentions but am also very forgetful and very busy. oh well!)

followers: let's just leave it at well over 300 xD which is a very decent number for a primarily fic blog!! appreciate you all so much <3333

average hours of sleep: probably around 6 🤔 i'm a bit of a night owl, and definitely don't get to bed early enough considering what time i need to get up in the mornings, hah.

instruments: 🎶 yes! i can play the piano reasonably well, and the violin badly 😆

what i'm wearing: jeans, sneakers and a reasonably nice button-up blouse that i can teach in later today (but for the time being, it's about to be covered all up by my lab coat 🥼)

dream job: OOOOHHHH 🤔 heading a division in the FSL (forensic science laboratory) in south africa, and maybe some part-time lecturing at my old beloved uni there as well

tagging @welightitup, @hourcat, @effervescentdragon, @mssr-monagato, @duquesademiel, @wolfiemcwolferson, @river-ocean, @pinkierre, @yukierres, @moonlight0starlighte and @francophones, if any of you guys feel like giving this a go! 🤗

happy friday, friends 💕

[beardedmrbean]

An editorial in Helsingin Sanomat follows up on recent criticism targeting pool-goers — often foreign — who wash and visit the sauna with their swimsuits on, a big no-no in Finland.

Children's Ombudsman Elina Pekkarinen now suggests that busybodies abound in changing rooms, with children and young people often told to quiet down or stop using scented products. Shaming young swimmers — usually already self-conscious about their changing bodies — can have dire consequences, as it can prevent children from learning to swim.

One easy way to make all people feel more comfortable would be to install shower curtains and partitions to give some privacy, according to Pekkarinen.

The paper noted that 12-year-olds' swimming skills are in decline, citing figures from the Finnish Swimming Teaching and Lifesaving Federation (FSL). In 2016, some three-quarters of children could swim continuously for 200 meters, dropping to around half by 2022.

"No need to know anything"

HS also delved into concerns over today's youth in an article about teachers demanding less and less of students. The story's headline proclaims, "You don't need to know anything."

Reporting on the results of its teacher survey, HS cites teachers saying that pupils are no longer required to read entire books or watch foreign-language movies because they cannot focus long enough.

The downhill trend in schools started 10-15 years ago, teachers told HS, criticising educational trends such as phenomenon-based learning and modern instincts to gamify lessons.

One Vantaa-based language teacher told the paper they've given up on asking for book reports, saying "the school no longer demands pupils read entire books or watch films in a foreign language."

Teachers are lowering standards across the board, HS summarised.

"When a student learns how to use a pen and eraser, they pass. There is no need to know anything, and different skill areas [are considered to] compensate for each other, which doesn't make any sense," HS quotes one teacher as saying.

Inflation slows

Kauppalehti suggests that there's good news for consumers as the economy cools.

April was the first time since July 2021 that inflation in Finland fell below the two-percent mark, the business daily reports.

Central banks often set their inflation target at two percent and adjust their monetary and interest rate policies accordingly.

Consumer prices rose by 1.9 percent in April compared to 12 months earlier.

More moderate rises in interest rates have contributed to the inflation slowdown this spring, according to Statistics Finland.

[irequirealobotomy]

i know a tiny bit of french sign language but obviously, being american, i use american sign language. so im at the airport picking up my friend and i see someone asking for help in fsl. i automatically reply in asl. audibly they said “what”. no signed. said.

i got a deaf french guy to speak english automatically

[mumfordbrainstats]

Hello Dr. Mumford. Your posts are very helpful! I have followed your feat registration workaround to use feat after fslprep (with standard output space of MNI152NLin2009cAsym). Does it allow me to use the coordinates as they are? More specifically, if FSL reports that certain coordinates are significant, can I check the coordinates in the MNI atlas or HO atlas to figure out the region names for the coordinates?

Good question.  The coordinates, themselves, are fine.  Whether or not you can rely on the anatomical names is something I don’t know about.  You might need to ask on the FSL list about this.

[seemabhatnagar]

Criminal Jurisprudence: Bail is a rule and jail is an exception

#Regular Bail is applied for by the Petitioner-Mother of the deceased minor daughter, Bharti aged about 9 years. The story of the prosecution is that the mother along with his husband-Narinder Pal, who is step father of the deceased hatched #criminalconspiracy for the # minor to make balance payment due towards the plot purchased by them out of the Life Insurance Policy of the #daughter. As per the post mortem repot the cause of #death was #strangulation with the help of Dupatta.

However, the #prosecution #failed to #substantiate their #version so as to #instill #confidence in the Court for #denying #bail. Moreso, #getting #bail is a matter of rule and courts grant bail to accused persons unless there are #compelling #reasons to # accused in #custody. 

Pinki v. State of Punjab

Cr. Misc. Petition :44958/2023

Before Punjab and Haryana High Court at Chandigarh

Regular Bail U/s439CrPC allowed by Hon’ble Mr. Justice Sandeep Moudgil J on 15.09.2023

Story of the Prosecution

As per the prosecution the motive behind the murder was the couple purchased a plot for Rs. 3,00,000/- on installment and paid Rs.1,49,000/-, but thereafter they found it difficult to make the balance payments. As such they thought of utilizing the amount due of her Life Insurance Policy amounting to Rs.90,000/-, so they conspired to kill minor daughter, another motive was Step father-Narinder Pal didn’t like her step daughter Bharti.

As per post mortem report the cause of death was asphyxia due to smothering which is ante mortem and sufficient to cause death in ordinary course of nature. Earlier it was taken as a case under section 174* CrPC

It was submitted by the prosecution to hide their guilt parents misguided the police by giving false statements whereas they had committed an offence u/s 302/120-B/182/34 IPC. Thus, proceeding under Section 174 CrPC was proceeding under section 174 CrPC was converted into FIR.  

174*CrPC provides for preparation of inquest report** in case a person has committed suicide, or has been murdered or killed by an animal, machinery or in an accident, or has died under suspicious circumstances.

Inquest Report** Report prepared by the police in cases involving unnatural deaths or deaths under suspicious circumstances.

Submission of the Defense Counsel

As per the defense counsel the petitioner is a biological mother of deceased and has been nominated as an accused without any incriminating material against her.

The story put forth by the prosecution for committing murder of her own real minor daughter by strangulation out of greed for Rs.90,000/-, which is the amount to become due out of her Life Insurance Policy. This story of the prosecution is highly improbable, keeping in view the relationship of mother and daughter, who is also having a son aged 6 years from Narinder Pal.

Merely on the basis of the confession statement made before the police by the petitioner and co-accused Narinder Pal, the petitioner has been roped in the commissioning of offence and except the postmortem*** report, which has recorded the cause of death to be a Asphyxia, which is anti-mortem**** and sufficient to cause death in the ordinary course.

Court asked about the Forensic Science Laboratory Report (FSL)from the State counsel but State Counsel had no answer regarding FSL report except the fact that the said report is inconclusive, as it does not reflect any kind of impression of finger prints of the accused-petitioner or ingredients of saliva of deceased, if at all her mouth was gagged with 'Chunni'.

Anti mortem**** injuries occur before death

Postmortem***injuries occur after death. 

Observation of the Court

Petitioner mother is in custody from 2 years 2 months and 21 days.

The trial is almost at the end as all the material witnesses stands examined.

Court also cannot ignore the fact that the petitioner is a biological mother of the deceased.

And is also having another minor child aged 6 years.

The story put forth by the prosecution is not sufficient enough to inspire confidence of this Court at least for the purpose of considering the instant petition for regular bail.

The principle of criminal jurisprudence has to be borne in mind along with the right to life as enshrined under Article 21 of the Constitution of India.

The petitioner is a lady of clean antecedents and thus it is highly improbable that merely for Rs.90,000/-, a biological mother would kill her own daughter and over and above had to use 2 'chunnis' to strangulate a minor girl.

Order of the Court

The court directed trial court for the release of the petitioner on regular bail on her furnishing bail and surety bonds to the satisfaction of the trial Court/Duty Magistrate, concerned.

However, it is made clear that anything stated hereinabove shall not be construed as an expression of opinion on the merits of the case.

Seema Bhatnagar

[full-on-sam]

Hullo. I appear to have found myself in the orbit of writeblr, mostly by accident, but here we are. Hi! I'd love to exchange asks, but for you, for Blorbo Blursday, I would ask, tell me about some extremely odd quirks your blorbos have! Speech patterns, ways they carry themselves, how they think -- how do you characterize them in very particular ways? Thanks, que vaya bien,

Hi, thanks for the ask!! I would love for an ask exchange!

Katz definitely has her own lingo. She is a pirate after all! A part from this, almost everyone speaks two languages. The language of their island, and Common, that is spoken in all islands and is the language used for the names of gods, months, festivities. Usually a typical book would have a Common version and a Yuan/Wasserese/Tijiaran/Fluyan/Veltese version. Some books come in all languages, some only in Tijiaran for example.

Then, Nayeli is deaf, she uses sign language (FSL - Fluyan Sign Language and LCS - Common Sign Language). Sometimes she speaks too if necessary, but she definitely has a strong Fluyan accent. And Ofc some things have an off-ish pronounce because of her deafness. Other than that they are very quiet, and posed. She is a high Priestess, and she has been taught this since an early age.

Souad speaks fluent Tijiaran and knows bits of other languages, because of her trades. She also is posed, but sometimes her tones can be harsh. Certainly they are very firm. She is used to contracts, bargaining, in general trying to be somehow diplomatic. Don't let her get mad though. She will lose it.

Haakon too has a certain composure, because he is a royal. However since he started anging out with the Squad, he started being less composed, more free to express, less uptight and formal.

In the end, we have Jiang. He is the typical student who risks being failed in multiple subjects. He studies and works, but can't manage. He has a strong east Yuan accent, even though he was born in Xijing, in the West of the country. He knows a lot of technical terms related to magic and medicine, because that is what he is studying for!