#so there's not a repeat of the 'the only French I knew as a child was song lyrics but I very much didn't know what they meant'

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am in the mood for some new (to me) music. Do you have any recommendations for songs that make you want to dance? No limits on genre or language, but if you're sending me a link to a specific music video please give me a heads up if it has flashing lights (if possible). Thanks!

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 2)

paring: lando norris x leclerlc!reader part 2 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

you're a bit of a flirt, the drivers understand that even if charles doesn't and recently you've been a little less careful about your interactions in the paddock. you'd think that would deter lando, but he's still committed to moving up your ranking, no matter what it takes

word count: 6.1k tags: established friendships, minor social media au aspects, poorly translated French

“What’s it going to take for you to love me?”

Lando practically forced you away from your brother and Carlos as you walked behind them. You were staring down at your phone and didn’t even see the McLaren driver headed your way so it was safe to say you were startled when he grabbed your wrist to pull you aside.

You pushed your sunglasses up to your head, “Excuse me?”

Lando sighed, as if having to repeat himself was such an inconvenience. “What’s it going to take for you to love me?”

At this point, Carlos and Charles had noticed you stopped following them and were making their way back to you. Carlos was amused at your interaction whereas Charles was uncertain. He couldn’t tell what Lando’s motives were or if they went beyond moving up your driver ranking.

You pretended to think about it for a second and Lando looked hopeful, as if there were genuine steps he could take to get you to like him more.

You counted on your fingers, “Be about four inches taller, for starters,” You held out a second finger, “Have darker features and…” a third finger, “Don’t be a Formula 1 driver.”

Lando wasn’t impressed with your answers, mostly because they didn’t help at all and you weren’t being the least bit serious. Instead of trying to get some real information out of you, he reacted like a child and yanked your sunglasses off your head before turning and running down the paddock.

You cupped your hands around your mouth to help with the volume of your voice, “This is why you’re fifth on my ranking!”

Carlos waited until you rejoined him and Charles before asking about the sudden change, “I thought he was sixth?”

“Oh, I mean-” you waved your hand outwards, “yeah he worked his way up, I guess. By default.” 

“By default?” Charles asked. You weren’t making any sense, but you also weren’t about to explain why Lando was now fifth, nor did you know how to explain why Pierre had been dropped without coming clean about hooking up with him.

Your shoulders tensed, “Yeah, I-”

“Hold on,” Charles came to a sudden halt. He pulled his sunglasses off his face and looked back and forth between you and Carlos. Neither of you knew what he was doing, but you felt obligated to freeze until he opened his mouth again. “Is Carlos your ideal man?”

It took you a second to figure out how Charles came to that conclusion, but you did say to Lando if he was four inches taller and had dark features, you’d love him. Which practically described Carlos. The only thing was, Charles was missing an important detail.

“Carlos is a Formula 1 driver. I don't date drivers.” you pointed out, starting your walk to the garage again. Carlos moved at your pace, draping his arm over your shoulder as Charles tagged along behind you two.

“What if I wasn’t a driver?” Carlos asked, a playful smile on his lips. 

You smacked his chest, “No.”

“No,” Charles repeated, much louder. “Y/N, I am going to take away your paddock access if you don’t stop flirting with the grid.”

You held up your hand and stuck up your middle finger, a beaming grin on your face knowing Charles was staring at it with betrayal. Carlos laughed, tugging you into his side as you continued walking, leaving Charles to mutter a string of complaints the entire way down the paddock.

“So Lando made it to your top five?” Carlos asked, reaching for a pair of Ferrari headphones to hand to you. 

“Unfortunately.”

“And where am I on this list?”

You slid the bright red headset over your ears, rolling your eyes, “Bold of you to assume you’re in my top five.”

“Of course I am,” there was a glint in his eye as he walked you to the visitor booth at the back of the garage. He waited until you stepped up to lean against the barrier, crossing his arms over it as he looked up at you. “Charles is probably first, which means I am second, no?”

You didn’t confirm or deny where the Ferrari driver stood, deciding to just press your palm to his forehead to push him away from the booth. Carlos laughed and before he could gear up to get into his car, you wished him good luck for the qualifying session. 

You caught that faint sliver of a smile he sent you before sliding his helmet on and it took most of your attention that you flinched when you noticed Charles standing next to you. As you placed your hand on your chest to steady your heart, you couldn’t help but notice his scowl.

“What is your problem?” You asked, dropping the headset to rest around your neck. You wanted Charles to know that he had all of your attention because clearly something was bothering him. And if he performed poorly during qualifying because of it, he’d blame you. 

“I don’t like it,” his gaze was stuck on his teammate, watching as Carlos chatted with the employee assisting him with his helmet strap. 

But you weren’t following. Your brother seemed to be referring to a made up scenario he came up with that involved yourself and Carlos and the thought alone made you laugh. As in, tip your head back and cackle so loud that people turned over their shoulders to see what sort of animal just wandered into the garage.

Even Carlos looked at you. Through his helmet and with his faint head tilt, you could tell he was wondering what was so funny. You did your best to get your humorous expression under control and turned back to Charles.

“I don’t actually like Carlos, you know that right?” He had to have known that. Charles made it clear time and time again that he would figure out a way to kick you out of the Leclerc family if you started dating a driver, hence why you were so on edge about Pierre running his mouth around the paddock.

“You flirt with him a lot,” was his only reasoning. 

“I think you’re looking for a reason to be annoyed with me.”

“Well I mean-” Charles shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t know, Y/N, tone it down a bit, is all.”

“Just get in the car and focus on qualifying,” you pushed on his shoulder right as someone handed him his helmet.  

Charles definitely looked like he had more he wanted to say, but now was not the time to get into it. You gave him a thumbs up before he turned around, making the smart decision to put his focus into the upcoming sessions than to worry about you.

A friend of yours sent you the twitter thread after qualifying had ended and you thought that replying to it would not only be funny, but put some rumours to rest.

You definitely did post Carlos a lot, but you were with him a lot. It was just something that happened. 

But you had no idea how the photos of you and each of the drivers surfaced. You tried to be careful and not be outwardly flirtatious or cross any lines, even as a joke, in public, but it seemed like some fans were starting to get suspicious. 

You stepped into the paddock, water bottle in your grasp, your hand acting as a shield from the rare Montreal sun seeing as everyone expected this weekend to be a wet one. 

“You look like you could use some sunglasses.”

Lando’s little tease had you stopping in your tracks. Your arm fell to your side as you turned on your heels and watched as the McLaren driver pushed himself away from a flag pole to walk towards you. How long had he been standing there? His racing suit undone and hung horribly low on his hips as his black fireproof long sleeve clung to his body.

“Don’t you have media to do or something?” You pestered, eyeing your sunglasses that he tucked into his collar, looking extremely out of place compared to the rest of his driving attire. 

Lando stepped forward and you flinched when he raised a single finger up to your forehead, tracing his fingertip over the lines above your eyebrows, “You shouldn’t squint, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Maybe if I had my sunglasses-” you reached for the accessory but Lando’s reaction time had you beat by miles. He jumped back and his laughter rang through your ears. 

He adjusted them on his collar and when you realised you weren’t going to win this battle, you figured it wasn’t even worth it to fight. 

And if he held onto them for the rest of the day, he’d have an excuse to find you later to give them back. 

Not that you wanted that. 

But you also didn’t not want that. 

You didn’t know what you wanted, all you knew was that Lando confused you and each time you saw him this weekend so far, you held your breath or rolled your eyes or sometimes both. 

Right now it was both as he sauntered to your side, draping his arm over your shoulder casually, as if you weren’t surrounded by people with cameras and smartphones with the ability to pick up on this little exchange and ultimately spin a story out of it. 

Lando didn’t care, he had something else on his mind.

“Did you see where I placed?”

“Place what?”

He knew that you knew what he was talking about and the fact that you were making him work for it was, purposely, annoying. He tugged harshly on a handful of your hair which resulted in you pinching his side as retaliation. Lando knocked your water bottle out of your hand and jumped back to put space between you before you could yank on his driver suit, which you were trying to do. 

You were children, essentially. Anyone walking by would see a couple of twenty-something year olds play fighting. You with a glare on your face and Lando with a cheeky grin because you picked up your water bottle and tried to throw it at him and the fucker managed to catch it like it was nothing.

“Qualifying, you little shit,” Lando finally clarified when he sensed you had given up on this immature battle. He tossed the bottle up and caught it with ease, still wearing that same smile. “I start fifth tomorrow.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” 

He winded his arm back and pretended to throw the bottle at you. Automatically, you held your hand up in defence and squinted, bracing yourself for an impact that never came. Instead, Lando stepped forward and grabbed your hand to lower it, a non verbal assurance that he wouldn't actually throw a water bottle at you…this time. 

You noticed that his fingers lingered on yours longer than they should have. Lando did too and he handed over your drink, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck to play off whatever that little gesture was.

“Lance starts tenth,” he pointed out.

Just to piss him off, you clenched your hand to your chest and sighed dreamily, “My Canadian hero.”

“He starts tenth!” Lando repeated himself, much louder this time. “Come on, Y/N, this has to move me up your ranking.”

“Qualifying higher doesn’t mean you get points,” you weren’t about to let him get his hopes up. “Finish ahead of Lance tomorrow and I’ll see about bumping you up to fourth.”

“You are cruel.”

“You sound funny when you say that,” the corner of your lips curled upwards when his British accent made the ‘r’ sound in cruel come across more like crool. 

“You sound funny.”

“Good burn, you really got me,” your words were layered with heavy sarcasm and you watched as Lando rolled his eyes. You two could probably set a world record for the amount of time eye rolls are exchanged in a single conversation. 

“I don’t actually mean that,” Lando suddenly flipped a switch, his cheekiness being replaced by a bashful smile. “I like your accent. I like when you speak French, even if I don’t understand it.”

You could have thanked him for the compliment, if it could have even been considered one, but that wasn’t the type of friendship you had with Lando. You liked making his life difficult and in return, he liked to annoy you.

So you stepped up to him until there was only a few inches between your bodies. He seemed confused when you placed your hand on the side of his cheek, a soft gesture, one to purposely mislead him.

“Oh Lando,” you whispered, your smile growing warm. “Tu as le QI d'une huitre.”

You watched as Lando tried to piece together what you had just told him and he definitely was hoping it was polite because the way your voice sounded like silk made him think you were giving him a compliment. But Lando knew you, so he wasn’t counting on it. 

“Tu as..” he mumbled to himself as you laughed. “Huitre? What is that? What’s that mean?”

You patted his cheek, deciding it was best to let him figure it out on his own. He probably wouldn’t have, let’s be honest here, but as luck would have it, Lando spotted one of the two French drivers on the grid headed in their direction. 

Lando waved him over and you watched as Pierre slid his phone into his pocket, figuring that the conversation he was about to walk into was much more entertaining than whatever his phone could offer him. 

Much like Lando, Pierre still wore his driver's suit, the upper half unzipped and hanging loose around his hips. He greeted Lando with a fist bump and congratulated him on his P5 starting position, and then he turned to you. 

Your relationship with Pierre wasn’t awkward, but this was the first time you’ve seen him since finding out he told half the grid you slept together. In his eyes, nothing was wrong but you were uneasy around him. He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, something he often did when he walked past and just had time for a quick hello, something that you used to love because it told you that Pierre wasn’t disregarding you, he cared about you. And now you found yourself tensing, just for a moment, but you simply didn’t want him touching you. 

You thought that you putting on a good poker face and acting normally, but Lando noticed right away how apprehensive you were about Pierre's gesture. Instead of allowing there to be a lull in conversation for Pierre to also notice and call you out on it, Lando acted fast. He draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer to his side, creating a bigger gap between you and Pierre. 

“Gasly can you translate something for me?” Lando asked him. “Little Leclerc here said ‘tu as le huitre’ what the hell does that mean?”

“Tu as le que huitre…” Pierre shook his head seeing as Lando was missing a few words. “That doesn’t make any- oh, tu as le QI d'une huitre.” He looked at you, a smile curling up on his lips as he continued talking to you in French, “Oui? C'est ce que vous avez dit?” That’s what you said?

You nodded, but part of you hated that Lando couldn’t understand your words. You didn’t want to be able to have a private conversation with Pierre, you didn’t even want to talk to him right now. Lando being left out left you open to a sense of vulnerability with Pierre.

So you switched back to English, “He told me he liked when I spoke French.”

Pierre chuckled, “I don’t think that’s what he had in mind.”

Lando tightened his arm around you, putting you in a headlock for a second, “Will someone please tell me-”

“You have the IQ of an oyster, mate,” Pierre interjected, ending the translation with laughter. “That’s what Y/N said.”

Lando tilted his chin to look down at you, brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips pressed together tighter. He was definitely taking back that compliment right about now and all you could do was offer him a guilty smile.

“I’m a lot smarter than an oyster,” 

“Okay.”

“Why are you so cruel to me?”

“Why do you pronounce cruel like crool?” 

Lando squinted at you, not able to come up with a suitable answer. And because you were finally within reach, you took this opportunity to snatch your sunglasses from the collar of his shirt and slide them on your face.

“Am I missing something here?” Pierre suddenly asked. Both you and the McLaren driver turned to him. Pierre was wagging his finger between the two of you, looking as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and somewhere between the close contact of you and Lando he'd find the last piece.

You shook Lando’s arm off of you, “What do you mean?”

“You’re-” he stopped short, licking his lips before changing his choice of wording. “I don’t know, Y/N, you don’t usually flirt out in the open like this.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Excuse me?”

Pierre held up a hand defensively and tried to play the observation off with a breath of laughter, “I’m not wrong. It’s entertaining, for sure, but you’re always so worried about Charles seeing, are you not?”

Were you flirting? 

Every once and a while you’d flirt with Carlos, just for fun because you both knew it meant nothing.

But even Charles called you out on it earlier, for flirting with his teammate. Maybe you weren’t as subtle or maybe you just didn’t care if Charles was a witness to it anymore.

And Lando…honestly you weren’t even aware you were doing anything. You were just having fun, trying to get on his nerves while simultaneously hoping to make him smile. That wasn’t flirting, was it?

Or maybe Pierre was projecting. You never flirted publicly with him, he was your brother's best friend for christ's sake. Charles would find a way to ban you from the paddock if he caught wind of you two becoming a little too friendly. 

You went with that option. It was easier than admitting that you were in fact being careless.

“I think you’re a little jealous,” the corner of your lip twitched into a smirk. Even Lando tried to hide his snicker, probably having thought the same thing.

As soon as you said it though, you regretted it. You recognized the mischievous glint in Pierre’s eye, one that practically screamed he had no reason to be jealous of Lando. Lando wasn’t the one you slept with. Lando never saw you the way he did. 

And even though all three of you knew what took place, Pierre wasn’t going to say anything, still under the impression you were thinking he had kept it a secret. 

You didn’t want him getting away with it. You wanted to slap that arrogant expression right off his face. The last thing you wanted was for Pierre to be able to walk away from this conversation with a higher sense of self than he already had.

But you also weren’t going to cause a scene in the paddock. Whatever conversation you wanted to have with Pierre, could wait. 

“Good luck tomorrow,” you told him, forcing the wish through gritted teeth. You turned to Lando, “Where are you headed?”

“Where- what?” Lando repeated. 

“Where are you going right now?” You asked. “I’ll walk with you.”

Pierre got the hint. You were purposely ignoring him and making an effort to not include him in the paddock. Your body faced Lando’s, a physical barrier between you and Pierre and you had the feeling he would call you out on it later. He too wasn’t going to get into any of this in the middle of the paddock.

“McLaren motorhome,” Lando finally answered. He nodded his head towards Pierre, “I’ll see you later, mate.”

Pierre seemed a little annoyed, but said nothing as he turned around. You waited until he was out of earshot before releasing a heavy breath.

“I just don’t want to be around Pierre.”

“Yeah I think that was pretty obvious.”

He then nudged his elbow against yours, wanting you to uncross your arms and loosen up a little. You did, reluctantly, but it was easy to push Pierre out of your head when Lando was giving you one of his classic grins.

You started to back up, “I won’t actually walk with you, you’ve probably got-”

“I want you to walk with me, though,” he cut you off, starting off in the McLaren motorhome direction. “Just don’t call me an oyster.”

“I didn’t call you an Oyster.”

“Fine, don’t compare me to one.”

You glanced around, wondering if continuing on your walk with Lando was really the best idea right now. You enjoyed his company, but you didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. The more you accompanied him, the more likely people would be coming to their own conclusions.

But with Lando’s encouraging head nod beckoning you to walk with him, followed by a smile you really couldn’t say no to, you found yourself at his side, on the way to the motorhome. 

You tapped his arm with the back of his hand, “You know that this-” you gestured between yourself and him. “-we, you know, this whole thing it’s not- it’s not real, Lando.”

Lando seemed unaffected by your words, yet another rejection he was going to ignore, “What’s not real?”

“Like if I flirt with you, it doesn’t mean anything,” you clarified. 

He nodded once. And then again a few seconds later as if it really sunk in.

“Well, maybe if you let me take you out on a real date-”

You pushed your shoulder into his, shoving him towards the middle of the paddock as he laughed, the last of his sentence fading into the air. 

“Okay fine,” Lando cleared his throat, strolling back towards you after adjusting the suit on his hips. “What if I get a podium?”

“I’m not following.”

“Will you go on a date with me, a real one, if I land a podium tomorrow?”

You actually laughed at the thought. Lando rolled his eyes, trying not to be personally offended by your reaction.

“Lando, just focus on your race,” you said, trying to mask your amusement by scratching the corner of your lip. “If you do better than Lance, maybe you’ll move up the ranking. A date isn’t going to do anything to help you.”

He shrugged innocently, “What if I just want to go on a date with you?”

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeated back, quite loudly might you add. You both looked around you but no one was paying either of you any attention, “Y/N come on, why wouldn’t I want to go on a date with you? You’re-” he took in a sharp inhale, “I mean, you’re stunning, for starters.”

“That’s it?” You raised your eyebrows. “My appearance? That’s all I have going for me?” You swiftly turned on your heels, “See ya’ later, Norris.”

“Hey, no, come on now.”

 Lando was quick to grab hold of your wrist and tug you back. The sudden turn made you stumble over your own feet and you fell directly into his chest. Lando’s hand slid up your arm to help you regain your balance, but he didn’t let go of you once you were upright again. 

He took a breath.

“When I see you during race weekends, my mood instantly improves,” Lando said, but he didn’t say it in a way that told you this was a sudden realisation. This was something he had known for a while, but never shared with you. “You’re so fun. I can be myself around you and you also grew up around motorsport so you’re familiar with this lifestyle. And I love talking to you, Y/N, even if it's just for a few minutes before I have to go to qualifying or- or now as we walk down the paddock and then go our separate ways. Your looks are- well they're definitely a plus, but they're not why I like you. I promise.”

You were speechless. 

Genuinely, not a single word came to mind. Lando wasn’t one to just spurt out a string of compliments, let alone to you. 

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I want to go on a date because I just like spending time with you?” 

“But the-” your mouth felt dry. “My ranking?”

Lando shrugged, “Well if I move up then that’s just an added bonus.”

Still, you were hesitant. His words were heartwarming, probably the nicest things you’ve heard in a long time, but you couldn’t just casually agree to go out with him. 

The only upside was, Lando scoring a podium in his McLaren was extremely rare. He had yet to so far this season, it was unlikely one would come for him tomorrow.

“Fine,” you nodded firmly. “If you get a podium, I’ll go out with you.”

Lando seemed taken aback, like he didn’t think you’d actually say yes. Any other day, you wouldn’t have. But the podium ultimatum and his strangely out of pocket compliments pushed you towards possibly giving him a chance. 

“What if I win?”

“Don’t push it.”

Lando’s head tipped back as he chuckled, “Come on, what if I win?”

Your arms flailed out to your side as you thought of something on the spot, “I don’t know, Lando. I’ll sleep with you.”

Lando’s eyes widened more than you thought possible and his jaw fell open. His grip on your arm loosened, probably because he couldn’t focus on anything other than staring right at you, completely frozen. 

You lifted your hand to his chin to gently close his mouth, “I was joking.”

“But- you-” Lando sputtered, having trouble forming a coherent thought. “You can’t just say that. For Christ's sake, how am I supposed to do anything for the rest of the day?”

“Again, it was a joke,” you felt the need to repeat yourself so Lando didn’t get any hopes up. He was a guy. And like most guys, they thought with their dicks 9 out of 10 times. “Just focus on the race, okay?”

Lando’s head fell backwards and he looked up to the clear sky, looking for some sort of higher figure that could give him the answers he wanted. You patted his cheek before playfully pushing him in the direction of the McLaren motorhome. 

“I’m going to go find Charles,” you said, using his silence as a reason to part ways. 

You barely got a few feet away from Lando when he snapped out of his little daze and called after you, “But you weren’t joking about the date, right?”

“Focus on the race, Lando!” You called back, cupping the side of your mouth. You watched as he gave you one last eye roll and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice him trying to subtly adjust himself through his racing suit. 

When you left to go find your brother, you had no idea that Lando would be replaying your words in his head for the remainder of the day. 

If you get a podium, I’ll go out with you.

And if I win?

I’ll sleep with you. 

He knew it was a joke, the sleeping with him part, but that didn’t mean it didn’t motivate him.

You were clueless to the fact that Lando paid more attention than normal during his post qualifying debrief. He usually gave the team anywhere from 90-95% of full focus, discussing his results, the strategies for tomorrow and everything in between. But today, it was 110%. Asking more questions and repeating them back for clarification. He wanted to get the most out of the car tomorrow, he wanted the date with you.

When you were sitting in the hotel lobby, chatting with a member of the Ferrari team, you weren’t paying attention when Lando walked through the doors. Up until now, neither of you were aware you were even in the same hotel, but Lando spotted you quickly. How could he not? Your captivating eyes and bold smile lit up the lobby at the end of a busy day. He was tired and ready for bed, but if you had noticed him and invited him to sit down, he would have happily nestled onto the couch next to you.

And Lando didn’t know that when someone called his name, you heard it. A faint ‘Lando’ echoed through your ear and momentarily pulled you away from your conversation. You weren’t trying to be rude when you looked over your shoulder and away from the team member, but you wanted to know if Lando was really in the room.

Sure enough, the second you found him leaning against the corner in the elevator, the doors slowly started to shut. He was looking down at his phone and hadn’t been watching you, but you didn’t know that he had been watching you up until he stepped into that steel box.

If you had caught his eye a second earlier, you probably would have ended your conversation and caught up with him to join him on the ride up. Just so you could have a few extra seconds to chat with him, see if you could an eye roll or two out of him before going your separate ways again.

Because for some reason, you really fucking liked talking to him too. He annoyed you at times, but in a way where you couldn’t actually stay mad and found some joy between his teasing. You could be yourself around him too, there weren’t any guards up around Lando. 

You could admit you hung around outside the doors of the Ferrari motorhome longer than normal on Sunday, just in case Lando walked by. Was it so wrong that you wanted to wish him well before the race?

But as luck would have it, Lando wasn’t the driver to walk by and grab your attention. You looked up from your phone just in time to see Pierre making his way up the bright red steps. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, but he only phrased it as a question for show. He wasn’t going to give you an option to walk away. Pierre leaned against the railing opposite of you. 

“About?” You slid your phone into your pocket, head tilted innocently at the French driver.

“Yesterday,” he said. “There was just a bit of tension, Y/N, and don’t tell me there wasn’t any. I just want to know if we’re okay.”

You played dumb, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well I-”

“Because I was under the impression we would act as though what happened at Christmas didn’t happen,” you interjected sharply, a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you let Pierre piece together what you knew. “I sort of assumed that we would move on and be friends and that we wouldn’t tell anyone. So unless…something changed…why would there be tension, Pierre?”

You practically spelled it out for him. Something had in fact changed. Pierre didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

He dragged his hand over his face, “What did Lando say?”

“It doesn’t matter what Lando said!” You exclaimed with a bitter laugh. “We agreed to not say anything and yet you’ve gone and told half the grid!”

“Half the grid is a bit of a stretch.”

“I’ve told no one.”

“Well it’s different for you.”

“You’re such an ass,” you scoffed. “I don’t want Charles finding out, Pierre.”

“He won’t!” 

“He will if you don’t stop talking to people about what happened six months ago,” you started to ascend up the stairs, having had enough of this conversation.

You had just reached for the handle when Pierre suddenly yelled out, “I’m sorry.”

All you could do was glance over your shoulder, “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it, Pierre. We both knew sleeping together was a mistake but I didn’t regret it,” you paused, releasing a soft breath. “Now I do.”

You walked into the motorhome without giving him another chance to apologise and you stayed there until it was time to head down to the garage. All hopes of seeing Lando had now vanished, you didn’t want to step outside and see anyone.

Was Lando disappointed when he walked past Ferrari and didn’t see you anywhere? A little, but he wouldn’t admit it. He thought maybe he’d catch you before the race, most drivers headed towards the garages at the same time anyway.

And when that time came, he spotted the bright red attire of Carlos and Charles, but you weren’t anywhere to be found. He even went the long way to the McLaren garage just to try and sneak a glance into Ferrari and see you in the visitor booth, but you weren’t there.

You didn’t show up until minutes before the cars were wheeled out towards the grid. You wished Charles good luck and grabbed a headset, finding a spot in the booth beside the VIP guests and family members. 

When you glanced at the screen, your eyes landed on Lando sitting in fifth.

You would always root for a Ferrari 1-2, but what if Lando found himself on the podium today? 

There were no words exchanged since you left him in the paddock yesterday. You doubted the date idea was forgotten about, but you wondered how serious Lando was about using it as motivation. 

Not wanting to think too much about it, you focused on the race, something you've been telling the drivers to do for the last 24 hours. 

The first ten laps, nothing happened. Charles kept his second place position, Lando dropped down to seventh.

By lap 11, George, who was in third, spun out, taking himself out of the race and Checo as well. 

The safety car helped Lando catch up and because two cars were officially retired, he found himself in fifth, fighting for fourth. 

A close call from Max earned him a five second grid penalty and when he went into the pits, his team unintentionally screwed him over. The wrong tyre was grabbed and his pit stop, that shouldn’t have been any longer than 8 seconds, ended up being almost twenty. Equivalent to an hour during a race.

Suddenly Lando was in fourth.

Charles led the race, Carlos behind, Lewis in third.

There was no way Lando had better pace than Lewis, not in that shitbox of a McLaren that seemed to provide horrible results week after week.

But then Lewis started struggling with degradation and Lando was catching up. 

It was nearing lap 67 by the time Lando was within DRS range. You held your breath each time he activated it, letting his rear wing open. Each corner brought him closer and closer to Lewis. 

And you had no idea what his end result was. When it became clear that the team was going to get a Ferrari 1-2, the crowd of you ran towards the gates to be able to celebrate with the drivers when they parked. As much as you wanted to see the battle between Lewis and Lando, you had to be there for your brother. 

So you ran with the team, screaming in excitement when the chequered flag was waved at the end of lap 70. Charles taking home a win, Carlos close behind. They parked their cars in front of the banners labelled 1 and 2 and shared a congratulatory hug after stepping out of the cockpits.

But who got third?

Your view was blocked, you genuinely had no idea who crossed the line after Carlos. You wouldn’t know until the third place car finished their cool down lap and pulled in, which should be happening any second now. 

You gave your brother a hug, squeezing his arms, all while keeping an eye at the end of the lane. 

And then your question was answered. 

The bright orange car drove up and came to a sudden halt in front of the third place banner. The McLaren crew crowded the barrier next to everyone from Ferrari, ready to congratulate the British driver.

Time froze for you as he climbed out of the car, fisting pumping the air. This was his first podium this season. He was overjoyed, he was walking on air, he was on top of the fucking world. 

And then he took his helmet off and spotted you. 

Lando should have gone directly for his team. He should have jumped into their arms and celebrated with them, but he used Carlos as an excuse to be near you. He patted Carlos on the back, the two of them sharing the same level of excitement, before he turned to you. 

You held your breath as he leaned in, a wicked smile on his face, he didn’t even care that he was surrounded by a sea of red or that his team was waiting for him or that the media was definitely catching how you were the first person he approached after landing himself a podium.

You barely caught his eye before he dipped his face towards your ear, speaking only loud enough for you to catch his words. 

“You free tonight?"

All you could do was nod.

Lando pulled away, but not before brushing his hand over your arm, sending a chill down your spine.

"Perfect."

-

masterlist here | part 3 in the series here taglist: @moneymasnn @thotd-f1 @masonspulisic

[esmiara]

As promised, let me introduce you my two beloved BSD OCs:

Who are they?

Basically, Lewis and Antoine are two friends traveling around the world to discover exciting places while avoiding various government forces (more on that later). Though not related to the main story of BSD, they do know about organisations like Port Mafia and the Agency, mainly from what they heard in the streets and read in the newspapers since they arrived in Yokohama. However, they do prefer to not get anyone involved in their issues, nor do they really want to get involved in anyone else’s.

Lewis Carroll

Based on the author of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis was a man in his thirties with a fancy mind. As a child, he once had a wild imagination feeding his ability Wonderland (again, more on that later) but due to social and family pressure, he got forced upon a path of logic and perfection, now making it hard for him to think outside the box. Thus crushing his past self involuntarily and putting chains on his own mind in order to protect himself from outside complaints. As an adult, he became a plain math teacher for children, with a quite boring life. That is, until he met one certain child in London.

Their meeting

“Draw me a sheep.” said the unknown child out of the blue.

Lewis was stunned. He didn’t knew what to respond at first to this child, which he thought was one of his students. But when he put more thought on it, he didn’t looked like any child he had at the time. Who might have been this strange blond kid with unkept clothes? He decided to learn more about him, worried he may have lost his parents somewhere. However, as they talked, he quickly understood he didn’t had any. He simply didn’t knew about any “parents”. Actually, he didn’t knew much about the world itself either.

“Draw me a sheep!” repeated the child after a while of interrogative discussion about who he was, where he came from etc....

Lewis gently asked why such a demand, as he didn’t want to offend this possible lost orphan.

The boy fell silent. Then spoke again, a sad emptiness darkening his young blue eyes.

“I want a warm friend to bring with me” he simply responded.

Their exchange may have been succinct up to this point, but it was clear to Lewis that he was no normal child. As the boy seemingly didn’t have a name, Lewis gave him the name of one of his most beloved book’s author. The character of that one book simply reminded him of the boy.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More based on the Little Prince’s main character than the actual author, Antoine was an enigmatic individual with the physical appearance of a young boy. Nobody knows of his real age, not even himself. However, most may have theorized that he at least was around for at least a few decades, if not centuries perhaps. One day found and caught by the french government in his - supposedly - hometown, he had no memories of his time before then, except for some vague fragments. He mostly remembered about this laboratory he was brought in, with a lonely room where he would occasionnally meet strangers dressed in white. Despite the many uncertainties surrounding him, Antoine was still of great interest for scientists. He didn't seemed to physically age at all. Could he hold the secret of cells regeneration or even immortality? They soon found out he did age but at a very slow pace, thus looking unchanged for many years.

Curious about this plausible new ability, they decided to make him meet a young girl, who would share his room from now on. This one girl was quite arrogant at first. Antoine didn't really like her attitude but she was the only other person he could befriend. So they did. They soon became friends. Then they learned more about the truth, may it be this girl's past, snatched from her orphanage to become a lab rat as well, or the whole reason why she was here with him in the first place.

It was all because of the young girl's ability. One that would let her copy another one and make it her own. They apparently wished to make a copy of test subject B612′s power in order to "save it” somewhere and be able to experiment on it without having to risk the boy’s life. But things didn't turned out like they wanted as the girl began to crumble under some unknown sickness. Her body couldn't handle Antoine's ability, so it seemed, and she quickly became unable to move. So she made a promise with Antoine:

“Be my eyes and explore the outer world, okay dumby?” she said, with little breath she had left.

A promise reminiscent of the one where they would explore and see the world together. One where he would do so if she couldn't follow, to make her dream come true even when she became a star.

Their abilities

Little prince

No one really knows the details about Antoine's ability. Everything we know for sure is that his body has a very long lifetime, yet not immortal. He is destined to die of aging one day and is still weak to any wound like anyone else. However, we did notice Antoine's body starts to produce a faint glow whenever he gets sick or when his life is in danger in general. Not that it really helps at all though.

Wonderland

Lewis' ability is a bit complex and confusing, much like Alice in Wonderland's whole world.

In theory, Wonderland is quite simple: it allows its bearer to create anything he thinks to be a nonsense, something that is normally impossible. It could be seen as an area surrounding the user, in which he can create anything he wants, as long as it meets the proper requirements (being a "nonsense").

However, as the whole definition of "nonsense" depends on the user's mind, one could have a hard time creating anything. As such, what could be a nonsense to someone isn't necessarily one for Lewis. He is still quite a peculiar man after all.

A strange man, but with many restrictions on his mind and imagination. As he was forced to think with logic for the most part of his life now, he can't stop asking himself about the specifics of one’s question. Where a visible nonsense would occur, Lewis' mind would subconsciously ponder over what could make it truly real or impossible. If he can't get proper answers to those questions, then it can't happen either.

The beginning of their adventures

As they became much closer as people who somehow understood each other, Lewis began to be more friendly with the child, rather than looking like a mere adult talking to a little one. He saw himself in his struggles. He saw a young mind, much like his own a long time ago, slowly getting crushed by adult's expectations and limiting his own thoughts. He couldn't let the same thing happen twice when they still had a choice. So he encouraged him to get creative and let free of his imagination, with no worries about exterior opinions.

One day however, they suddenly got caught off guard by militaries sent by the french government as well as some members of the Order of the Clocktower, there to retrieve the unknown child for their own purpose instead. It was at that time that Lewis was finally able to make use of his ability once more after so many years. Inspired by Antoine’s naturally spoken nonsense, he unleashed Wonderland in order to escape. This also put a permanent stop to Lewis’ normal way of life, as he now was as searched for as Antoine was. It was time for a involuntary trip around the world, it seemed. But this time, Antoine wasn’t alone anymore.

[crimsonicarus]

12 + B 🫶🏻

Hi, dear! some geochal for the soul

George was 9 years old when he heard the voice for the first time, he was back home from school, had dinner with his parents, he was brushing his teeth when he heard something inside his head, a voice that wasn’t his, speaking in a language he didn’t understand the voice was frenetic. Speaking too fast for George to even try to say something, he started crying in the middle of his bathroom. Mom always said the first time he heard Dad’s voice she felt relieved, why did George feel so stressed after hearing his soulmate for the first time?

“s'il vous plaît, je suis désolé,” said the voice in his mind, oh it was French, George hurried to think of something, to explain himself.

“I don’t speak any French, I’m so sorry” Then silence

“Oh,” The voice said after some seconds of silence “I know some English” He felt the relief his mother spoke about, and the voice inside his head laughed a bit “I’m sorry I scared you”

“I’m sorry I got scared, My name is George”

“Mine is Charles” His tongue twisted weirdly around the R, George liked the way it sounded.

“Charles” He repeated

“Close enough”

Charles was a middle child and lived in Monaco, he played piano and liked the color red, he liked pasta and was the same age. George asked for his last name, his Facebook profile… something.

“I would like us to get to know each other first” George felt a bit frustrated, But we are soulmates… He wanted to say, but Charles kept going “My parents did something similar”

“...Your parents didn’t have Facebook”

But Charles just laughed. He stayed awake the rest of the night talking with Charles and thinking about getting French lessons.

George was 19 when Charles's voice broke into his head, again too fast, a mixture of English and French, George only caught perhaps the middle of it, but he knew something bad had happened, he kept saying that everything was going to be okay. Charles didn't speak for the rest of the day.

George was 20 when he started to think Charles didn’t want them to meet, In a world like this, with so many facilities, Charles never gave him a number, or a profile, not even a last name. Alex called him a helpless romantic, but George wasn’t that sure.

He was 21 and in the middle of a family trip in Italy when something started feeling odd, he stayed in his hotel room that day, something felt scratchy on his head, something anxious on his blood.

George felt like he was going insane when he finally decided to go out for a walk, bought some gelato, and sat under the sun in an attempt to make it go away, but it wouldn’t

He walked around a little bit more, the city was beautiful and he saw a couple of restaurants he would like to visit later, on his way back to his Hotel a man was on a call talking on some quick French. That scratchy thing in his brain came back, he knew that voice.

The man was smaller than him with dark brown hair, he was wearing some light jeans and a white shirt. He was on the phone speaking to his mom about something he saw that day, his mom was named Pascale… same as Charles.

George started walking towards him, and the guy’s eyes stopped on him, George could tell the exact moment something clicked on the other’s head “Charles?”

“George,chéri? ” Charles hurried to hang his call and wrap him in his arms, George felt like he had finally arrived home “How did you even find me?”

He felt a bit dizzy, finally hugging Charles, the smell of his perfume. Everything was a bit too much for him “I didn’t… I was on vacation and-”

But Charles just laughed, something dreamy in his beautiful eyes “This is how my parents met”

Oh “Is that why you never told me-?”

“I’m a romantic”

George cackled, finally letting go of all the tension he didn’t know was holding, Chalre hugged him tighter, maybe it was going to be okay.

[billyhargrovesslut]

Freaky Love

Willing Eddie Munson x yandere reader

Prt 1. Prt 2

Summary: it's been afew months and eddie has been amazing and willing anything to please the girl he loves.

Warning: kitchen sex, breeding talk, orgasim denial

Yn pov

Eddie couldn't be more amazing it's been a few weeks since I let him out the basement and he doesn't go anywhere near the front door and only leaves the house when I'm with him out the back so he can get some fresh air, I'm so glad that I fell in love with him

I hummed swaying my hips to the rhythm of the tones softly playing from my phone I was making eddie a nice breakfast as a present for being so good I knew what he like but I just wanted to make sure he enjoyed it so I made a bit of everything French toast, pancakes, bacon and fruit salad and even had his favorite cereal on the side

"Done" I breathed out a side of relief setting the last plate onto the counter I bit my lip as I made my way to my bedroom where he was sleeping and silently creeped into the room I stared at him the morning sun peaked through the curtains the light streaming onto his shirtless body the duvets were pulled back exposing his upper body and little bit of his boxers he wore to bed

I slowly walked to the bed and climbed onto it silently crawling to him "wakey wakey" I murmured sitting on you of him but he wasn't even fazed "eddie" I said poking his cheek but still nothing "eddie eddie eddie eddie" I repeated shaking him awake "I'm up I'm up" he murmured grabbing my hands "finally" I grinned

He gave me a sheepish smile before bringing me down to him "why did you wake me up" he whined hugging me closely "well I have a surprise well two actually" I giggled as he turned us around so he was at the top "what is it" he asked sitting up excitedly like a child on christmas day "come on" I nodded towards the door making him scrambled off of me and help me up

He was giddy as I lead him to the kitchen "surprise" I smiled stepping aside showing of the banquet breakfast I made him "babe wow" his mouth hung open as he approached the full counter of food he's eyes scanning everything with delight "I don't know what to say" he murmured his eye flicking between me and the food

"Help yourself" I giggled handing him a plate he quickly started piling stuff up onto his plate "what are you doing" I laughed "I call it a frenchcake" he said making his way over to the table it was made of one piece of french toast at the bottom then bacon then a pancake then a scoop full of fruit salad then another pancake I raised my brow as he drizzled syrup all over the top

I rolled my eyes while smiling at his behavior before grabbing a portion of what I wanted and sat next to him at the table and he was already half done "wow slow down there tiger your gonna get a stomach ache" I laughed taking a bite of my food "you didn't tell me to slow down last night" I choked on my food as he mentioned the night before with a mouth full of food

A dark blush rose to my cheeks as I stared at him "that's different" I murmured he leaned over to me and whispered "yea you taste better" I think I would've fainted if he came any closer the teasing in his voice just made me want to curl up and die, I opened up my mouth to speak but all that came out was a squeak

Flashes of the night before filled my head, the tugging and pulling of eddies hair while his tongue was in between my legs and his hard thrusts into me sending the head board of my bed into the wall

My blush spread all over my face probly making me look like a red tomato "shut up" I murmured and continued to eat my food in silence and when we were done I took both of our plates to the kitchen and slowly started to pack them in the dishwasher I bent over loading up the bottom shelves "dam I like that ass" eddie chuckled I looked at him not amused as he leaned up against the doorframe

I rolled my eyes with a slit smile on my lips as I went back to what I was doing and gasped as I felt eddie grab my hips pressing his bulging crotch against my ass "eddie" I whined pushing myself back into him "oh baby" he grinned bring one of his hands down hard on my ass sending a shudder up my body

I stood up as he pulled me away from the dishwasher and pushed me up against the island his body up against mine his arms trapped me against the counter as he stared at my body up and down "God I just want to fuck you" he growled "then do it" I teased and gasped as he smashed his lips against mine

His hands roughly grabbing and tearing my clothes off "fuck yn" he groaned as he moved his lips from my lips to my neck sucking and nibbling as he slowly took off his own clothes he hoisted me onto the counter as his hands traveled up and down my body "thank you for my lovely gift" he said against my skin

"Now let me show you how great full I am" he murmured slowly sinking down to his knees becoming the same height as my core "eddie" I moaned tilting my head back while still gazing down at him he innocently looked up at me as he moved his head towards my body

He stuck out his tongue licking my slit up and down "fuck" I whined my hand grabbing his hair pushing him more in my pussy "yes just like that baby" he said muffled against my skin as his hands made their way to my thighs grabbing and scratching them as he sucked on my clit

I threw my head back as I started to near my climax my moans went higher "i-im gonna c-cum" I squealed closing my eyes tightly but right before I could cum he pulled away with a mischievous smile causing me to whine and plead for him "nah uh the only way your cumming is on my cock" he grinned evilly gesturing down to his throbbing cock as he stood up

My eyes eagerly watching as he positioned himself infront of my entrance "beg" he growled into my ear making goosebumps to arise over my skin "please eddie" I pleaded moving my head back so I can look at him batting my eyelashes at him in a pleading manner "fuck you look cute" he smirked biting his lip as he grabbed my hips thrusting his throbbing cock inside "fuck" we both moaned

His thrusts were slow and rhythmic as we kissed eachothers lips like it was the last time our lips molding into eachother like two perfect puzzle pieces our lips muffling eachothers moans "eddie" I whined as my hands threaded into his hair slightly tugging with each thrust "faster" I begged his slow movements slowly started driving me insane

He groaned in response and slowly started to speed up his thrusts his cock reaching all the right places while his hands traveled down and started rubbing my clit making my breath hitch, eddie pulled away smiling in triumph "do you like that baby" he said staring at me with hunger

All I could so was moan out response "but wouldn't it better if I breed you" he whispered darkly my eyes widen in surprise but quickly went soft with eagerness I nodded my head eagerly "please" I whined the tight knot feeling started coming back again

"Uh fuck babe are you gonna cum your squeezing me so tightly" eddie panted as he fasten his pace "please" I cried out desperately wanting to cum I leaned back onto the counter moaning out helplessly "ah I get so horny thinking about you, I've been thinking about it for a while now" eddie breathed out

His fingers circled my clit ever so gently, teasing me "all the times I just wanted to bend you over and fuck you senseless and full of my cum" he groaned as his eyes rolled due to the pleasure "are you gonna cum baby" he asked staring down at me "yes" I squealed wrapping my legs around him tightly

We squealed and moaned as we both cam his cum shooting deeply inside me making my eyes roll back at the feel I slowly rose up settling on my elbows as I stared up at him he leaned for staring straight into my eyes before say

"even if it takes forever I'll fucking pound my cum into you till your pregnant".

[jojolovesdogs00]

Between Our Hearts

Ship: Rachel x Reader

Chapter 1

You were staring at the ceiling of your room for what seemed like hours already but was probably only 20 minutes when someone knocked on your door softly.

"Y/n? Are you there?" head teacher of the orphanage you live mr.Brian asked softly after you didn't answer back immediately."Yeah, just give me one second!" you said, quickly getting up from your bed. "Coming!" You called out as you opened your door with a quick movement of your hand.

When you walked into the hallway you saw him waiting patiently for you. He gave you a soft smile. "What's wrong, Mr. Brian?" you asked politely as you approached the old man. You had met this man you were 5 years old when your parents left you here and never come back. "Well," he said, "it seems that we have a problem.". You started to think of what could be the problem that would cause the head teacher to be so serious."A problem?" you repeated dumbfounded. The old man nodded and sighed deeply before he started talking.

"As you know, you're about to turn 18 Y/n." he explained gently as if he was trying not to upset you."Yeah, I am..." you answered absentmindedly. You knew exactly what the topic about his conversation was going to be.

"You know we can't keep adults here." the older man continued speaking again as if he heard your thoughts. "I'm not happy either child." he admitted. He looked away from you for a moment then continued. "I have some friends work in real estate." He stopped for a second and then added."I think you could find somewhere to stay with them. They'd help you a lot."

Your brain was still processing the news but slowly you came back to reality and started to realize what the old man was telling you. "Thank you so much for your concerns mr.Brian but I think I can handle it on my own. You know I'll manage fine." you tried to convince him. He smiled sadly and patted you softly on the shoulder. "Yes I do, Y/n. But I hope you will consider my offer." and with that, he turned around and left. You stood alone for awhile, contemplating what you should do now. You were turning 18 after this week and you were gonna graduate from high school. You were also working at a burger shop part time. 'Maybe I can join army' you thought. You loved martial arts ever since you were a child. You were quite skillful when it comes to fight and you were a quick learner. 'It might not be enough though...' you thought once more while looking outside the window, observing how bright it was today. It was a nice day and you wanted some fresh air and sunshine so you wanted to take a walk. You started to get ready to leave the orphanage. After taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes, you went out of the orphanage with taking your purse in your pocket and started walking. You liked being outside and you had always enjoyed the freshness in the summer days. It felt good to move and enjoy the breeze. 'I feel hungry. I should have breakfast first.' you thought while heading towards the fast food restaurant near. When you arrived there you ordered a hot dog and french fries before sitting down at a bench near a lake in the park. You took a deep breath and let it out before starting eating and thinking. 'Why does my life seem complicated?' you thought while sipping your soda. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard gunshots coming from the direction of the fast food place was located. "Oh no." you said aloud as you got up from the bench and ran towards where the sound was originating.

There was an old man lying on the ground bleeding badly with a wound in his arm and a bullet hole through his chest. A burl young man was standing beside him. He wore a smirk on his face and pointed a gun at the dead man. "Gotcha!" he said loudly and started to laugh maniacally. You could see the fear on the faces of the people in the surrounding crowd who were trying desperately to escape from the area. But the man didn't care at all and kept pointing the gun at the old man's chest and laughing crazily. Then he aimed the gun at the man beside the old man. That was when you decided to step in. Without hesitation you stepped forward and punched the man right in the jaw. He dropped the gun immediately as he fell to the ground with blood coming out of his mouth. You quickly bent down and grabbed the gun. With the gun still in your hand, you raised it toward the man. "Put your hands behind your back" you ordered sternly. He obeyed immediately and began to laugh hysterically. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably with laughter. "What the-" you were cut off by the police who came rushing over to you.

"Miss are you alright?" he asked, bending down next to the dead man. You nodded, handing him the gun."What happened here?" he asked, pointing to the body of the old man. You told him about the gun situation, how the stranger had shot him without mercy. The officer looked at you carefully for a few moments before nodding."Do you want us to call anyone for you?" he offered. You shook your head vigorously. "Nah, I'll be okay. Thanks for your concern officer." you responded.

"You are very brave girl miss." he replied smiling at you. "Thank you again sir."

"That guy is... quite burly. You knocked him out with only one punch huh?" the officer asked, impressed. You nodded.

"You must really be something huh?" he asked.

"Something like that" you answered nonchalantly.

You turned away from the scene and walked back to orphanage without looking back. After entering the building you headed straight for your room. 'What a day I had' you thought, feeling exhausted. You closed your bedroom door and sat down on your chair, leaning against it. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a second as exhaustion overcame you. 'I should take a shower first' you thought. You got up from the chair and opened your closet. You quickly changed your clothes and made your way to the bathroom, taking a shower before brushing your teeth. Once you were done, you dried your hair, fixed it with a towel. You put on clean pajamas before getting into bed. You laid there, staring at the wall with tired eyes, thinking about the events of that afternoon. Suddenly there was a knock on your door. You frowned. You weren't expecting any visitors. 'Mr.Brian again?' you wondered. You stood up from your bed and walked to the door. As you opened it, you found a man standing before you who seemed surprised to see you. "Can I help you?" you questioned. He was way taller than you, with dark brown hair falling onto his forehead and blue eyes shining under the light coming from your room. "Um yeah actually..." he started to say nervously. "I'm sorry to disturb you at such an hour miss...?" he continued. He seemed suspicious as he stared at you curiously.

"Why are you asking and who are you?" you asked him coldly. He chuckled awkwardly.

"Sorry to disturb you that way miss. I'm Dick Grayson. I heard what happened at fast food shop today." he said apologetically.

"Are you policeman?" you asked while raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a detective at station. I heard about your... incident and I wanted to see if you're okay miss." he explained. You crossed your arms.

"I'm good sir. Thank you for your concern." you responded, giving him a polite smile. "If there isn't more-" you started to say but was cut short by Dick. "Actually there is miss." he said seriously. You looked at him confused as to why he suddenly became serious.

"Your phsical ability... knocking down a burly guy with only one punch... with a petite body..." he trailed off. You stared at him confused. "I'm here to invite you to Titans miss Y/n."

[neptoons1998]

Black Pearls

Previously

Summary: Okoye might like her break from the training center after all. Okoye and Attuma have a conversation. Attuma thinks Rhinos are whales.

A/N: Here you go!

Okoye could believe her eyes he was real. Her child's brain didn’t make him up, in order to process her parents' death. The once boy grew Okoye still had a couple of inches on him. His once short hair was slowly growing out reaching to his chin.

“Okoye,” Attuma’s voice was still light and airy as he looked at her. Attuma couldn’t believe his eyes his sun had come back to him. 

“So you did know how to say my name right,” Okoye joked. Attuma could only give her a slight chuckle, even though he didn’t know her language he could tell she said something funny. 

“What are you doing here?” Okoye asked moving forward with the conversation. Attuma looked at her once more as he tilted his head. Maybe I should try saying it in a different language, Okoye thought as she started to speak in French, Spanish, and Latin; with a quickness. Still, Attuma could only look at her. Okoye had one more trick in her sleeve if he didn't speak it then the young warrior would go back to the drawing board. Once her lips repeated the question again, Attuma was shocked, “You speak my language?”

Okoye gave a shy smile, “Somewhat, I’m still learning, so go easy on me.”

Attuma wasn’t sure what to say next. He was beyond grateful that he could finally understand her now, “I always came back here waiting for you.”

“You waited for me?” Okoye repeated. Attuma nodded as walked into the shallow side of the water his hair sticking to his body, “I won’t lie to you I felt foolish when you didn’t show up, but I continued coming here to the cove.”

Okoye as if she was put under a spell scooted herself closer to him, “I agree that was foolish someone could’ve hurt you.”

“A risk that I didn’t mind,” Attuma said as he continued to look at her. Attuma looked down at her wrist he placed his damp hand around, “You still have this?”

Okoye gave a small shrug as she look down at him, “You made it for me.”

Okoye didn’t want to go into detail about how this small bracelet gave the girl some peace during her grieving process of losing her family and being taken care of by her cold and distant uncle. That would be unfair to dump that on him. Attuma smiled at her. The only other person who like his jewelry-making was his mother, “I’ll make more you.” Attuma tried to undo the knot ties to Okoye’s wrist. Okoye quickly shook her head,” No, I like this one.”

“Really?” Attuma questioned. He knew he could do a much better job now, he gained more skills in jewelry making. Okoye nodded,” It’s perfect.”

Attuma nodded along with her not taking his hand around her wrist. Okoye looked at the entrance she could tell that the sun was about to set. She needs to hurry to the cottage,”I have to go.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Attuma asked her as her hands were still intertwined with his. Okoye tried not to think too much about the young teen holding her hand, It’s probably a culture thing, she thought. Okoye would be lying that she didn't enjoy the thought of sitting on the ground enjoying the company. 

Okoye should enjoy the time she had with a close childhood friend before she goes back to the training center, plus it is way better than staying in the empty cottage or keeping up her appearance if she decides to go to the golden city. 

“Yes,” Okoye said before slipping away to go back to her uncle’s house. During any downtime, she would sneak off to see Attuma. In the grand scheme wasn’t that hard Okoye just lied to her uncle that she would be staying late in order to hone her skills, she could be the next great general if she was just lazing about. 

“What’s a Rhino?” Attuma asked as he continued to watch her. The pair were in the cove as Okoye gave Attuma a mango he could try. That’s one of her favorite thing about having him here. She didn’t have to play the overly stoic trainee, she could be herself before the accident. Okoye thought for a moment as she dipped her toes in the water, “They are big and they horn on their nose.”

“Like a whale?”

Okoye fluttered at the thought her favorite animal compares to a floating blubber, “Rhinos are more amazing than some whales. They are strong, yet gentle creatures.”

“They sound like a whale to me” Attuma recalled. “You should show me what they look like one day.” Okoye smiled at him, “Maybe.”

[polaroidcats]

It just hit me. For part 2 of assigning german/austrian songs to the marauders, this time with Remus:

Egoist by Falco.

You know it's true.

(This is the only Remus bashing you will ever get from me, he is my babygirl and he has never done anything wrong in his life ever)

Oh wow okay I didn't know I'd be coming home to Remus bashing in my inbox today but here we are! Why are you calling him an egoist? Just because he abandoned his pregnant (so very straight) wife (so very straightly) and didn't take responsibility for that until a 17 year old kicked his ass? Idk what you're on about, that's a weird AU, Remus would never do that.

I see your Falco and I raise you: Junge Römer. You know Sirius played that song on repeat for like a week and thought he was the funniest person ever because of Remus's name.

Also I should note, I'm a bit tipsy (ON REMUS WINE!) atm so this is NOT the official German Remus playlist, this is the shitpost version of the official German Remus playlist, here we go, no thoughts just vibes:

Okayokay I'm thinking abt austrian music now and since we're pretty much the only 2 people invested in these playlists anyways I won't worry about the musicians being well known or not (though I'd love to know which of these you knew and which you didn't!).

May I sugesst Wolfgang Amrbos' Die Kinettn wo i schlof as homeless Remus Lupin's crying song. I feel a bit bad about putting this on the list because the song is genuinely so good and emotional and it made me cry when I was a child (I grew up listening to Ambros) but yeah. Uhm. No further explanation, also idek if you'll understand the dialect lol

DIALECT! When making the german Sirius list one of my Remus thoughts was what the german equivalent to welsh/scottish remus is and I've come to the conclusion that the obvious answer is Vorarlberg. SO obviously Vo Melo Bis Ge Schoppornou has to be included on the list. No I don't understand much either but it's still german (and imho one of the sexiest german accents, I said what I said).

Ham kummst is toxic wolfstar divorce AU core!!!!

Okay this one is actually a serious (lol) suggestion I think Remus would actually really like and relate to Sie mögen sich by Kätpn Peng! ALso maybe Tier by Käptn Peng?

Meine Sonne by Grossstadtgeflüster as angsty REMUS POV either poa era or first war or sth

Also I know this is officially the inofficial Remus list but i had another galaxy brain idea - Aurélie by Wir sind Helden is a song about french Sirius in an AU of our german marauders AU.

oKAAAY ANYWAYS BACK TO AUSTRIAN MUSIC Ich Lebe by Christl Stürmer is also a Remus/wolfstar song now, because I said so.

sepp haT gesagT wir müssen alles anzünden is just pure chaos marauders vibes tell me I'm wrong.

okayyy back to remus Irgendwann bleib I dann dort by STS is also Remus. ANd Gö, du bleibst heut nacht bei mir is needy Remus in a werid fwb situation with remus or sth idk

ALso since I've given up any pretense of choosing things that make sense I also suggest 1001 Nacht is about wolfstar friends to lovers slowburn. YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE

Okay also I just wanted to add something by AnnenMayKantereit because why not, and I'm sure there are better songs but I decided on 21,22,23 purely because of the youth/death themes and bc Jily died at 21 and Remus and Sirius died in their mid-late thirties.

okay now i made myself sad i need one more nonsense answwer and then i'll post this glorious completely coherent masterpiece

I was going to go with LaFee for a tasteful last song but then spotify suggested Tokio Hotel and who am I to disagree?! you can't tell me angsty early 2000s german teenage werewolf remus lupin DIDN'T listen to them, I'm sorry but he really felt the lyrics of Durch den Monsun.

yeah idek what this is i'm sure it's EXACTLY what you expected (lol) uhm i blame the remus wine. Any thoughts on the playlist??

[lafcadiosadventures]

Alexandre Dumas on a childhood anectdote of the Hugos in colonized Spain

(as a warning, there's a brief mention of physical violence and an implication of rape)

(context is the school (the seminaire des Nobles*) was attended only by spanish nobles supporting Joseph bonaparte (only 25 students were left, before the napoleonic invasion it hosted 300) Victor was refered to as Count, that made him very proud. Victor was 9, Eugène was 10, and Abel Hugo was 12.)(Adèle Hugo also tells this story in her bio of Vic)

"there was a boy who was exceptionaly, not a noble, but nevertheless he wasn't the less remarkable figure at the college. He was a young officer, 15 years old, he was named Lillo**, was made a prisoner at the site of Badajoz. He had fought like a demon, killed a french grenadier, and could only be caught after a heroic defense. He was going to be executed (shot) but, by chance, Marshal Soult passed by, was informed, learnt what all that was about and sent him to Madrid with the order to be sent to the College. The order was executed: Lillo was sent to the college, only that in the capacity of both student and prisonner. This child, who had had the title of sous-lieutenenant, who had commanded men, who had roamed the country side with his (harnois, military equipment) on his back, took the college discipline badly for it was abounding in jesuitic silliness, to which, excepting in the common dormitory, where everyone had their private alcove, he was submitted like the others.

Thus he lived, how it was allowed, solitary, and nursing a rage in the bottom of his heart. In his interactions with the other young people, he was cold, melancoly and haughty.

there's no need to say that the three Frenchmen (the Hugos) where object of his private hatred, and that at every instant he held a grudge, (edit: thanks @gavroche-le-moineau for the heads up on “avoir maille à partir avec”!!) him, a soldier of Ferdinand VII, against one or the other of the three sons, and sometimes with the three sons of general joseph. One day, facing Eugene, he refered to Napoleon as Napoladrón (napoleon the thief) ; it must be said that this was the name given almost daily to the victor of Austerlitz.

The insult stinged Eugène, who hit back with this verbal riposte: Lillo had been found when taken prisoner, between the legs*** of the french grenadiers.

Lillo had a compass in his hand; he did not stop to look for another weapon, he flung himself over Eugène, and hit him violently in the cheek.

The injury, or rather, the cut (blessure ou plutot la déchirure) was an inch and a half long. Eugène wanted to duel him, Lillo wanted nothing less, but the professors intervened and separated the young man and the child.

The next day, Lillo had disapeared, and neither Victor nor his brothers never knew what became of him. I can still hear Victor's low voice the day he told me this story: -He was right, this young man: he was defending his country…. but children can't understand that!

*actually both Adele and Dumas say he went to de college des nobles, when the hugos actually attended el Real Colegio de San Antonio Abad (?) nobody knows why the name of the school was changed in both retellings of the story. so it might have been Romantizized, possibly by Hugo.

**Adéle calls the boy Lino, and in fact a Lino Fabrat is listed as a student in the college in 1811

***Eugène seems too young at 10, to be implying Lillo/Lino was raped by the soldiers, but he might be repeating innocently (or not that innocently, the Hugos had seen their share of crimes of war as children in Spain) something he had heard from others

(i was able to get those footnotes thanks to this article -in spanish- about why Hugo includes Badajoz in les mis)(it is extremely interesting and well researched, reveals a lot of how Victor reworked actual events and characters into his fictions)

[a-girl-named-angel]

Starter for @drinkitfrommymouthsuou

It all happened to her so fast. One moment, she was at a contest for her school choir. The next, she received an official letter from the prestigious Ouran Academy offering her a music scholarship to join their choir and pursue a higher education.

It hadn’t been long before her mother found out and quickly threw in her two yen. “This is a golden goose!” She said taking hold of her only child’s shoulders. “If you let it go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Don’t do it for me, do it for yourself!”

And that was that.

Now she was walking towards the campus. Nervously fiddling with her book satchel as she walked. Though today would just be a day to familiarize herself and not actively attending courses, her own anxieties couldn’t help but grow.

For one thing, the closer she got, the more she realized she would stick out like a sore thumb. She had on her old school uniform as she couldn’t afford the dress uniform and certainly couldn’t afford to keep up with it. But her long blue skirt and white shirt tied off with a red ribbon as much better then casual wear. Even if she found herself catching more attention then she’d like.

The next thing was… the eyes. If she were in a group she would feel somewhat more secure, but she was alone and with everyone she passed, she could feel their eyes stare like daggers. And the whispers. Oh god the whispers. It was pure torture. She felt like any minute she would either burst into tears or run off into an unfamiliar location.

But soon, the bells for class rang and she made it into what she could guess was the office for them. Where she would receive her schedule and portable map.

“Homeroom, Algebra, French, Renaissance history, Choir.” She repeated as she began to circle the areas on her map to find her rooms. And one by one, she would mark them down as she passed them by. Only stopping once for lunch which she happily ate from her bento box. Choosing to stay away from the cafeteria as again, she didn’t want to be the center of attention.

Alas she made it to her final period. Which coincidentally lined up towards the end of the school day.  does she would have to get used to the walks in between classes, she found it to be quite easy to navigate. At least until now.

There was an error in her schedule. Instead of labeling, which music room her choir class would be held in, it’s simply said “choir room”. This would not prove to be useful as she had a choice of three music rooms to find the right room. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about attendance, but still it was annoying to have to figure out which room was the right room, especially after a long day, such as hers.

Oddly enough, the first room, that she would have to look through was the last one, Music Room 3. ‘Would have to start somewhere.’ She thought. 

No sooner had she open the doors, that she had come face first to several bouquets worth of rose petals being blown towards her face and several students sitting some odd feet in front of her welcoming her to. What they called. The “Ouran Host Club”.

Naturally the new girl was stunned. Half of her almost wanted to slam the door and run away. But, she knew that that was rude, considering that they were other people just nearby. So in the flurry of emotions that she was going through, she just stood there. A nervous expression on her face followed by a blush that covered her cheeks.

“H-huh! Oh gosh I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to stumble in here!” She said trying hard to keep her composure. “T-there was a mistake on my s-schedule, I’m j-just looking for the music room that holds the choir.” She explained.

[blorbologist]

*peeks over the lip of the inbox*

filles du roi perc'ahlia pretty please

Vex’ahlia opens the door and feigns apt surprise. “Père Vina, quelle surprise!” she gasps. It is a true shock to see sister Trickfoot among the acolytes, some familiar faces from the parish lagging behind. Any excuse, to abandon the fields for frivolous theater. 

Conscious of the fact she had no chance to inform Percival of the unexpected visitors her brother had spotted, she continues in breathless French: “Oh, oh goodness, my apologies - I had not thought we were to have guests.”

“My dear,” says Drez Vina most pointedly, “I believe you were to still be a guest of the abbey by this time.”

He shakes his head, indulgent. “I am not here to chastise you, child,” he scolds. “I wish only that God bless your path. So cruel, it must be, a girl in a new world. And,” here he lifts his chin, before a congregation of one, “for that I am delighted to bring news.”

“News? From France?” Repeated loud enough Vax’ildan might hear, from where he hides in the poplars with her bear. 

Bless this unholy man, he matches her tone as though it is a contest. “News from your father, my dear. Why -”

His mouth shuts. “My apologies. Am I to understand this is the man of the house?”

Vex’ahlia turns - Percival, laden with an armful of firewood for the stove, doing his best not to heave great breaths. He squints at the people beyond the door - be this due to his lack of spectacles or irritation, Vex’ahlia is not at a luxury to discern. 

She opens her mouth to explain. To try to. Because how does an unmarried woman explain a man, an Englishman, in her home without family or God or emissary thereof to chaperone - 

And Percival replies, “Yes. I do hope you were not bothering my wife.”

In perfect French. 

Mon esti de tabarnak - the man has known from the first day? Not only known but been fluent in the language, so languid and at ease but for a chip across the channel? 

She smiles so sweetly it’s cyanide. “Ah! Darling, I’m sorry, I knew you were busy.”

Smooth as silk, Percival stacks the firewood and slides up behind her. He pointedly rests a hand on her hip - out the corner of her eye, Vex’ahlia spies the gleam of a ring. 

What in God’s terrible name -

Sister Trickfoot smiles brightly. “As I said, Father - I was their witness when they announced their intent. Vex’ahlia would never find herself living in sin. She simply took the dowry in anticipation of an opportunity, one she has clearly made the most of.” She looks so very tempted to wink. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Sister.” Vex'ahlia is almost tempted to send a prayer to this bastard God to thank him once her heart calms down.

“Now,” says Percival, a frisson of threat and fire just above her ear. “What was this about Monsieur Vessar?”

Her heart, unhelpfully, throws itself into a gallop.

[away-ward]

Alright I have this little theory about Reverie Cross. We know that she was tangled up in a love triangle between two best friends A.P. (Will's grandfather) and Edward McClanahan and that she apparently either was pushed to her to death by Edward or jumped because she was pregnant. According to the story they found her body at the bottom of the Cliffs still wearing her pink bloody dress and Edward McClanahan jumped week later leaving confessions on the kitchen table.

I call BS on that. Like in every good mystery there is some sprinkle of truth mixed into the story, but you need to put the pieces together in order to get full picture.

Let's start with the dress:

The pink dress Reverie allegedly was found dead in was the dress Emory found in the Carfax room and wore to Homecoming. So the part of her being found at the bottom of Cliffs wearing her pink bloody gown is false.

Now let's focus on where she was burried at:

No one knows. As Will said in Fire Night it's a mystery no one knows where Reverie Cross graveside is, which is rather strange given how famous this murder-suicide story is around town and everyone knew were Edward was burried at.

And now let's look at the names:

As we found in NF A.P. who was Reverie's boyfriend was Will's grandfather, A.P. was not his true name they are his entials which he went by at the time.

Reverie meanwhile is a French name it means Daydream or Beautiful Dream. Now guess who is of French origin was a teen in 50s like A.P. and Edward and whose name we only know as Grandmère? 😉

My point is Reverie never jumped nor was she pushed. That's why Emory found her pink the dress she allegedly died in or why no one knows where she was burried at. She never died.

Reverie Cross was Emory Scott's grandmother and the pink dress Emmy wore to Homecoming to meet A.P. grandson was her Grandmère's.

The candle Grandmère made Emory light on Evernight wasn't for Reverie it was for Edward.

Now onto Edward McClanahan:

We know Edward is dead and this part of the story is were the truth gets sprinkled into the mystery. A.P and Edward had fight at Cold Point which was reminiscence to the fight between Martin and Will Will went after Martin over Emory, Will than got pushed by Martin and they both fell off the Cliff in a struggle of survival.

Something similar probably happened between A.P. and Edward who had a fight at Cold Point over Reverie who was pregnant with Edwards child they had afire. Things escalated between A.P. and Edward as they both fell off the Cliff and in a struggle of survival as it was case between Will and Martin, A.P. killed Edward his best friend.

Edward/Martin A.P./Will Reverie/Emory: history in sense repeats itself through eyes of the Grandchildren.

Conclusion:

Emory Scott is the grandaughter of Reverie Cross and Edward McClanahan while Will Grayson is the grandson of A.P.

The story of Edward, Reverie and A.P. is a tragedy. Edward lost his life over someone who wasn't his. Reverie Cross lost the father of her child and her boyfriend over a studied mistake by having affire with A.P.s best friend . And A.P was forced to kill his best friend and lost girl in the process.

But there is a happier ending in another lifetime were A.P. never lost the girl and where two best friends are finally united again over a quarrel that ended in tragedy for all of them through tale of their grandchildren.

We want what we want.

I've thought about Emory's grandmother being Reverie too!

There's a lot of evidence for it, including some that you mentioned. But...there's also some issues.

The Dress

It's possible that the one she found was the same dress. However, the town treated Evernight like a holiday, and even the basketball team had a pink strapless 50s style dress meant to represent Reverie. It could be that those dresses are popular, especially that time of year, and have been duplicated for costumes and whatnot since the 50s. It would explain why her dress, left unattended and uncared for in an dusty attic for so long, would still be in really good condition.

Grandmere/Reverie

You mentioned she was a teenager in the 50s, but I don't know.

What we do know is her parents fled from France in the 30s,

Emory says she's 82 in the past scenes.

If NF takes place in 2012 (which it might not; again PD left dates vague for this reason), that puts her being born in the 30s, which puts her in her 20s in 1954.

Beyond that, Will said that Reverie was a girl from Falcon Wells and Em's grandmother was raised in Thunder Bay.

Those are just two small points of conflict. But stories change, rumors grow, and people lie. So, it's not conclusive.

Edward

I have two ideas.

One: Emory is Edward's granddaughter.

Emory seems to have very clear memories of her grandfather, but it's possible he wasn't really her grandfather. He could have been her mother's stepfather, and it was just never openly discussed. This would make sense for the era. He would have quietly adopted Paige and raised her as his own. None would be the wiser.

However this would mean that Em's mom was born in the 50s. That's a struggle for me, based on Em and Will's ages. Remember, Emory's grandmother was 82 when Emory was 17. And she lived another nine years after that. By the end of NF, Em and Will are in their mid-20s. If A.P and Em's grandmother are the same age, this man is in his 90s. And he's still alive 10 years later in Fire Night. Again....not impossible. Just unlikely.

And I feel that Emory would have been able to piece the clues together using her mother's birthday and the dates Will provided if it this were even likely.

Two: The Mystery Child

It seems more likely that, if Em's grandmother was Reverie and she was pregnant, she would be sent away to have the baby. This could explain why people were so ready to believe that Reverie was dead. The baby could have then been given up for adoption, and Reverie quietly returns to town, and things go back to normal.

This is a fun idea because it means Emory has family out there.

A.P

If he had, at any point, seen Emory's grandmother around town between then and when Em was taking her out for ice cream, and had recognized her as Reverie and then did nothing?

That's pretty huge.

Not even to help support the child of his deceased best friend who he murdered? Was he that angry? I mean, I don't expect that he'd declare his love for her in the middle of the street Emory-style, but to completely ignore that she's alive? To not be watching the family and making sure they're cared for? If he had been watching the family that closely, he would have seen Martin's behavior, right?

Gosh, the implications.

Listen,

I absolutely love this idea. And I personally think it should be canon. As soon as Em's grandmother wanted to light that candle, it was so important to her, I had the same idea: she's Reverie. She has to be! Besides how well it fit into this weird little town's mysteries, Emory deserved it. She deserved to be apart of the mystery, the scandals, the history of it all. She loved Thunder Bay so much and gave so much to it, she deserved to be tied to it like the others.

But I just don't know if all the evidence supports it or if PD left it vague for us to wonder about.

Any one have any other thoughts?

[systemadministratorclu]

[from the leave an object meme]

for Knuckles: the title and deed to Terra Del Sol Vineyard, in [smudged out location], bequeathed by [redacted].

For Hal and Clu: acceptance letters for a month-long internship working with their choice of the Perseverance Rover, James Webb Telescope, Juno, or New Horizons missions.

Sonic: An invitation to play an off season game with the Boston Red Sox and tickets (game and plane) for the entire family to go watch.

For Tails: Acceptance letter for an internship at Encom

For Soneca: Tickets to Parc Asterix (IDK what else to give her, I don't know much about her, tbh...)

For Tes: An obscure Dada painting by an unknown artist (I don't know much about what he likes, either.)

Knuckles, after Googling what a vineyard is, was ELATED. Someone left him AN ENTIRE FARM OF GRAPES!! (LOL, he's not actually a muse of mine, but he interacts with Sonic a lot. Same for Tails.)

------------

The program and the AI weren't sure which to choose. All were exciting, though Perseverance didn't get to see the stars. Upon further research (with Ed's help), Clu and Hal decided the James Webb Space Telescope suited them best (Hal's siblings gladly took the spots on the other three projects). With another laser built and connected to the Telescope (also with Ed's help, and Dr. Chandra's), they were even able to enter its (much smaller) Grid and help its team of programs fix a few problems the Users were having trouble with, as well as teaching them how to avoid future problems (though when their time with the project was over, the team kept their contact info, just in case the computers had issues again)

-------------

Little Sonic couldn't contain his excitement as he raced through the house looking for Ed.

"DADDY!!! Daddydaddydaddy, looklooklook!! Lookit what I just got! A real baseball team wants ME to play with them! In a REAL game! And you guys get to come watch!!" This was pretty much a dream come true for the little hedgehog.

At the game, of course questions were asked, and some even laughed that they had a tiny child on the team (he had his own little Red Sox uniform and official equipment).

The laughing stopped once the game started and it was quickly realized that this little kid was GOOD. Really good. His family certainly wasn't surprised when Boston absolutely DESTROYED the other team (a very hard to beat team) on the scoreboard and Sonic was named MVP of the game.

-----------

Tails knew Encom of course, only the biggest tech company out there. Some of his own tech was Encom (the stuff he had to do the least upgrades on because it was already plenty good.) Of course Mackey and others scoffed when hearing that Tails was eight, but like Sonic at his game, the laughing stopped when they saw what he could do and how much better things worked when he was done with them.

-------------

Soneca grinned. Even though she could run faster than any of them, she still loved going on roller coasters, and this place had some pretty famous ones. Of course, they would need to update the Miles Electric for French, so they wouldn't have a repeat of Sonic and Tails' trouble in Siberia.

-----------

Tesler was........confused, though he could pick out pieces of Occupation media and propaganda that had been altered (as if cutting them up wasn't altering enough. Pavel would've thrown a fit........With this in mind, Tesler prominently display the obviously (and humorously) anti-Occupation piece in his office, where the obnoxious commander HAD to see it.

[dcstruction]

[ olivia cooke | cis female | she/her | twenty-six ] ——   welcome to grimrose, ESTHER MCLEAN. it’s cool that you’re here, you know. haven’t you heard of the history of this place… anyway, how’s being a NEWCOMER who has been in town for ONE MONTH , especially since you spend most of your days as a CASE WORKER at GRIMROSE TOWN HALL ? also, not that it’s a bad thing, of course, but i’ve heard people say you can be a little BRITTLE more than you are INCISIVE… but that’s just coming from people who are bored here, i promise. to me, you remind me of BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY  by THE VERVE and repeating your sentence thrice before giving up , the fog that settles on the land after a rainy night ,clumps of cut brown locks in the bathroom sink , building sandcastles at the beach even as the tide comes in and speaking your truth even as your voice shakes . hope to see you around, ESTHER. —

full name — esther renee mclean name meaning — "star” / to hide or to conceal age — twenty-six date of birth — december 01 place of birth — austin, texas current location — grimrose, new hampshire gender — cis woman pronouns — she / her religion — baptist , only semi-religious occupation — case worker education level — MSW / masters degree in social work, certified in texas and newly in new hampshire residence — fixing up her grandmother’s home just several minutes from main street  family —  frances jean mclean (nee howard) [grandmother, living ] , willie mclean [grandfather, deceased ] , pauline mclean (nee gordon) [mother , living ] , cecil mclean [ father , living] , everette mclean [brother , presumed living ]  finances — comfortably middle class spoken languages — english, some bits of french faceclaim / voiceclaim — olivia cooke

background — tw mentions of death ,

the house in mary’s cove was pretty decent at the time . it was only one floor , but it had enough rooms to house all four siblings of the mclean family . willie was a fisherman by choice and frances a midwife by necessity - some evenings at the house lonesome for the children but the oldest soon learned how to cook and was the matron at the young age of fourteen . finishing high school was not required when there was a baby to take care of at home -- and cecil mclean was no easy child . he was rough by the edges , independent even as a newborn and steadfast as a young father years later .

cecil remembers the evening that his father came home from the sea with an extra wrinkle etched on his forehead and a defeated ‘the fish haven’t been biting’ . that memory was clear but the rest were muffled ; something about how they should move down south - it was warmer , it was new and hell , even the jobs seemed even better down in texas .  so the family left everything they knew and made a new life in a very different state . the house was forgotten , left to dust and photos on the walls never aged while the mclean family did .

esther is born to a teenage mother only two years later . it was a consequence of a spiked punch at senior prom and a couple that had only gone on a few dates. the teen pregnancy was first met with disdain ( mostly from the perspective that cecil was raised to be a very respectful gentleman by the word of god ) but pauline soon became the daughter frances soon adored . sundays were always spent at church ( the only hour pauline really dared to be a decent lady ) but the rest at some bar that she fronted as her job . pauline was never meant to be a mother - she had a drive to be someone so why let some mistake ruin her life ? they only had to get married for the snobby church - some elaborate lie that the child was definitely not out of wedlock . but they divorced when esther could walk so pauline could travel the world because that was the truest marvel ; not the baby left alone in the bassinet .

the only real mother figure esther had growing up was her maternal grandmother . they often butted heads about religion , but it had been her who had changed all esther’s dirty diapers , told teenage esther about the birds and the bees , and who had been the first to know that esther had gotten engaged to the brainy kid from her high school .

the engagement didn’t really last more than a year . what began as an impulsive forever soon withered under the pressure of reality . adulthood was no easier than university and certainly not when the two had different ideas of what a family meant . he wanted children and she wanted a life  ( really the only similarity she had to pauline ) .

a letter came on an otherwise unremarkable tuesday . addressed by her grandmother who often seemed lonely these days after her grandfather’s untimely demise. it was a property deed for a home that had been abandoned fifty years ago . several inked words told the story of the wooden house near the coast . a picture was attached to the prose and the blue paint was most definitely chipped by now , but all it took was one glance for the pull to drag esther back north .

it’s been one month and esther spent most of her time in the attic . the house was certainly a skeleton of memories as nothing’s moved . she walks the same steps her father once did and it’s the closet thing to home she’s got now .

several head cannons :p

at the surface level , esther is pretty easy going . however , as someone gets to know the true her - the one that is hidden under several layers of truly complicated feelings , she is a ghost . there are times that she is aware of how shitty of a friend she can be but it doesn’t outweigh the flight that carries her day to day . to know her is to not know her.

she decided to pursue case work after picking up a part time job when she was in university at an office that worked with at risk youths . it’s truly an emotional job for her which is why she is a pretty emotionless person at home . but since moving to grimrose, she’s taken on a full time job at the grimrose town hall where she assists tourists and newcomers acclimating to the new town by providing local resources. it’s not exactly her passion but it pays decent.

with the roleplay’s progression , esther will develop the ability of pathokinesis . while it is one’s ability to manipulate emotions, it will take a rather different approach at onset . she will have a sudden rush or awareness of someone else’s emotions to the point of becoming overwhelmed . i find that this will be ironic for a person who has always had difficulty in conveying emotions so this ability will be the literally the only way (whether conscious or subconscious) for esther to communicate how she feels at the moment or about someone.

[breitzbachbea]

Had an idea for a Jerusalem AU snippet about the beginning of Charlie's and Dilan's unlikely friendship. So enjoy their - supposed - first meeting while Charlie stays behind as a pawn in Jerusalem, so that the rest of the Pilgrims can explore the area around the city in peace.

Suddenly, the door opened and Charlie lifted his head.

He winced the next second when he was faced with a tall woman; her face was wrapped into veils, as was the custom for the place.

He didn’t know that the Na’ib was married, but of course he’d be. The woman seemed to have gotten lost on her way to or from the Harem.

Instead of that, all he got out was a “Greetings?” while she cocked her head.

She said something in the native language – Arab it must have been, though Charlie understood not one sound. As no time passed but she also made no effort to move, he realized it might have been a question. “I’m sorry, I don’t … I don’t … Translator?” he asked. When she frowned, he pointed to his mouth and then his ears while he repeated the word. “Translator ...” He kept eye contact, the brown eyes the only point in her face he could focus anyways. “Dragoman?” A spark of recognition seemed to light up. “Frank! Dragoman … “ he pointed to his mouth again. “Frank.”

She nodded. “Frank,” she said as if she spoke to a little child. Then the door closed and he was left alone again.

Not for long however, as she returned with another man, clad in the customary wear of a Christian or Jew of the place, but with features that very well would have made a French person of him.

And Charlie was in luck, since he did speak French, albeit it broken, and introduced himself as Nicolo. He knew he would have had no luck looking for someone who knew Irish or the Norse language in this place. Harry only ever had found a familiar tongue when he met another Latin speaker.

“She’s asking who you are,” Nicolo said.

“Oh! Well, I’d honestly love to know what I am, here, and all – “

“She means your name.”

“Oh. Right. Charles of the Higgins Clan, from the Liberties.” When even Nicolo gave him a blank stare, he sighed. “Tell her that. And that I am a knight.”

So he did. She seemed pleased with the answer, now interested in giddy. In fact, she squatted down to look at him on his eye level. Something about those eyes seemed familiar …

“She wants to know about the place you're from and your family,” Nicolas said.

“Well, the Liberties are outside of Dublin, which is in Ireland, which is a rich island next to England, Wales and Scotland,” Charlie said. “My father’s name is Connor. We come from Irish and Norse people … Vikings? Ask her about Vikings, does she know what a Viking is?”

Apparently she did, because she said something and then looked with big eyes at Charlie.

“She said that Vikings haven’t come here in a long time. And that … well, she said that the Na’ib did his job right.”

The next moment, the man in question made himself heard and she got up, before she shouted back to him. There was another voice, calmer and more quiet than either the woman or the Na’ib.

She gestured to Nicolo to come with him, so Charlie was alone once the door closed. There were however, windows in the room, and he let his curiosity get the better of him. At least it’d be a story to tell to the others.

And what a story! The woman was standing with her back to the room, but she evidently had taken her veil off while she talked with the Na’ib, just another indicator that she was his wife. Something about the silhouette seemed oddly familiar however …

She then turned to the side as she laughed about something.

Charlie’s eyes went wide and he knocked his nose against the grate in front of the window.

An action he immediately regretted when his eyes met the Na’ib’s. He wondered whether or not he should have ducked when he said something. She – or he? – in turn said something to him. The cheery expression on their face hadn’t darkened a single shade. At least their words seemed to change the Na’ib’s expression from grumpy to merely uninterested.

He used the chance to duck. The two talked for a while longer, sometimes a third voice cut through from further away. Then Charlie heard receding steps.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the revelation. His head was too confused to think clearly about what he witnessed.

So lost in thought was he that it came as a surprise to him when the door opened again.

In the doorframe, they stood. The Na’ibs right hand. That’s why the brown eyes had been so familiar. Nothing of the former appearance remained, however – They were clad entirely in the familiar uniform of a Mameluck official.

No veil covered the wide grin.

Half behind her stood Nicolo, who faithfully translated again.

“She tells you to get up. She’s in charge of you now,” Nicolo said.

Charlie forgot to get onto his feet. “She?”

Nicolo made no attempt to translate his surprise until she nudged him. She laughed and then responded.

“Well, only a man can do the job. So she’s a man in the military and a woman in the house.” Nicolo grimaced, obviously very unhappy with what he had just relayed. “She also said that no one in the city would believe you if you told of what you saw … So you might as well know.”

Another thousand thoughts ran through his head. She asked Nicolo something, who responded with “Up”.

She held her hand out to Charlie. “Up!” Finally he got onto his feet. She said something to him.

“We’ll show you the stables and the soldiers training – that should be of interest to a knight like you.”

“Sweaty men on horses? Sure is,” Charlie responded. He put all the confusing thoughts at the back of his mind for now as he followed her and Nicolo. One question had to be asked though: “What is your name?”

She turned around to him after Nicolo had translated. “Dilan,” she said. It was translated with the string of words that followed:

“Dilan, son of Kerîm, right hand of the Na’ib Sadık, son of Alaattin. A military leader.” She beamed with pride.

The mess in his head wouldn’t stay quiet. It was as if he had discovered both an enigma that only ancient philosophers and fairies could come up with and at the same time, the solution to a problem that had plagued him all throughout his life.

“Very well, Sir. Lady. I – “ Charlie looked to Nicolo for help, but received no reaction at all. “Dilan. Very well, Dilan. Thank you for your hospitality.”

She smiled as an answer and then gestured him to follow her again.