#and he noticeably has an accent when he speaks but like. he's spoken it since he was in third grade at least

[britneyshakespeare]

one of my friends told me today “i always understand you but sometimes when i talk to you i have to google words that you say.” hey buddy i get it, me too!

[c0eu4]

Can I request something? If not it’s ok

Reader being Landos younger sister and he catches his teammate and his sister really deep into making out

OP81 | Caught ♡

Summary: Y/n is the apple of Lando’s eye. He always protected her from everyone. Well, that's what he thought until he realized that she's not that innocent... Especially with his teammate.

Warning: smut, dom!Oscar, sub!reader, Y/n Norris

A/N: I hope you were talking about Oscar when you said teammates 😔 (And if it wasn't about him, tell me so I can make another one :)

part one - part two

MASTERLIST requests are open

She walks through the paddocks, looking for her brother. Her orange t-shirt proudly bears the number 4 on the back, but is slightly hidden by her long hair.

She goes to his driver's room, to the cafeteria, she even goes to Ferrari to see if he's with Carlos but he's still nowhere to be found.

She returns to McLaren's private premises and takes something to quench her thirst. The heat is in full swing in Spain. She's supposed to go back to the hotel with Lando but it's going to be complicated if he doesn't answer the phone and is nowhere to be found.

''Lando went to the gym.'' She jumps and turns around to see who had spoken to her (even though she had already recognized the person with his Australian accent.) ''He asked me to drive you back to the hotel .'' Oh my God. Finally she will have a chance to be alone with him.

Since they met, it was like love at first sight for Y/n. She only had eyes for him. Of course, he didn't even notice her that much, too focused on race. But Y/n, she couldn't stop thinking about him. And unfortunately, Lando quickly noticed, doing everything possible to avoid the two of them being alone. Y/n loves Lando. But he's too protective. She has always had to hide every relationship she has from him, for fear that her boyfriend will run away.

''You heard me?'' He passed his hand in front of her, visibly annoyed. She feels herself blushing, stammering words. ''I..uhg..yes, yeah.. sorry.'' He chuckles. ''Am I destabilizing you, Norris?'' She feels herself blushing even more. ''No!'' She sighs, feeling shame sticking to her cheeks.

''Do you still have things to do?'' He runs his hand through his hair. How she loves it when he does that. ''No, you need to grab something before we go?'' She shakes her head as a no and he walks, followed by her, to the exit of the track. They go to his car and he starts driving.

She doesn't dare to move the whole way, too afraid to get his attention. This may be the longest car ride any of them have ever had the opportunity to take. Embarrassment is felt throughout, with none of them daring to speak.

Finally arriving at the hotel, she quickly gets out of the car and closes the door without slamming it, for fear of making him more annoying (she was traumatized because of Lando.)

He walks her to her hotel room, since their rooms are opposite each other. She searches in her pocket, then in her jacket, then in her purse. No no no no... it's not possible... she, who thought the situation couldn't be more awkward. It's Lando who has her keys.

She turns to Oscar, who understands directly. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair again. ''Tell Lando to hurry up. You will wait in my room.'' On the one hand, she's like 'oh my god, I'm going to stay alone with Oscar in his room.' but on the other hand, it's more like 'Oh no, shame, I'll have to wait with him.'

She follows him into his room. It's like hers, a simple bed, a television and a door that leads to the bathroom. Nothing very extraordinary.

''Do you mind if I go take a shower?'' She shakes her head as a no and hopes he'll take his time, just to ease the awkwardness between them.

She sits on the bed, not really knowing what to do. She sends a message to Lando, literally asking him to come save her.

Meanwhile, Oscar takes his time in the shower. Not because he doesn't want to see Y/n, but more for a masculine reason. The icy water runs down his naked body, trying to deflate his now hard member. But he can't help but think of Y/n, in the next room. He grunts, not even managing to wash his body without feeling a thrill of pleasure because he's so excited.

His thoughts wander to y/n, naked, touching herself. ''Uhg..fuck..'' No no no no. He needs to get his act together. He comes out of the shower, his member still hard. He changes and tries to hide the bump on his sweatpants as best as possible.

He opens the bathroom door and runs his hand through his damp hair. He does this all the time when he's embarrassed. And he hopes she hasn't noticed.

His first mistake when he sees Y/n again is to stare a little too long at the bottom of her thighs, her shorts revealing her skin a little more given the position she was in. His second mistake was imagining himself between her legs, rubbing against her.

''You ok?'' She asked him, her voice was so innocent. ''Uhm I.. yes.'' She chuckles, understanding that she has an effect on him. Unfortunately for Oscar, his bump wasn't hidden very well with his gray sweatpants. ''Am I destabilizing you?'' She reuses his words that he said earlier.

Oscar takes a while to respond. He doesn't know if he should say 'yes' to her and go all out by kissing her or say 'no' and probably never have this opportunity again in his life. He thinks about Lando. To the conversation they had earlier this year,''Don't even think about fucking my sister once in your entire life.''

Well. Fuck you Lando.

''Yes you are.'' She looks at him, shocked. She expected anything but that. She sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard as he moves a little closer to her. ''Since I met you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. That's why Lando never leaves us alone together.''

His eyes widen. She doesn't know what to say. But she feels the excitement building in her body. Without thinking twice, he sits next to her in bed, placing his hand on her cheek. He surprises himself by being so confident. His cheeks turn as red as hers.

''Can I?'' He manages to say, their lips a few centimeters away. ''Yes.'' He feels her breath on his lips and doesn't wait any longer to stick his lips against hers. Her lips are soft and warm. He tastes her cherry Labello on her lips. She doesn't push him away but welcomes him with open arms. She places her hands in the crook of his neck, pulling him towards her. He takes the opportunity to slip between her legs, deepening the kiss with his tongue. He caresses her inner cheeks, his hips grinding against hers. She can't help but moan, sending shivers down his spine.

His kisses go down on her jaw, her neck and her collarbone. ''Why did I wait longer?'' He asked him, making her laugh softly. She lets her hand trail through her hair, playing with a few strands. He plays with her t-shirt, pulling it slightly, ''Can I?''

She nodded slowly, blushing even more at the idea of Oscar seeing her so naked. ''I need word, sugar..'' He whispered to her, his voice rough and full of lust. ''Yes..please..'' Her breathing quickens when Oscar's hands caresses her thin exposed waist, removing her t-shirt completely.

''Ah-ha.. Oscar..'' He takes off his t-shirt, his kisses descending on her chest. He feels her gesticulate slightly because of the pleasure he gives her.

''I..I need you.'' Oscar smiled mischievously. ''Are you sure?'' ''Yes!'' He doesn't wait any longer to undress her completely and gets up to rummage through his suitcase. He returns with a box of condoms and some lube. He places them next to her and also undresses himself.

She watches him do it, her eyes filled with love for him. She refrains from moaning at the sight of his imposing member, watching his hands slide the condom over his length. He opens the lube and drops some into his hand, jerking himself gently to spread the liquid.

He gets on top of her and she feels his member between her thighs. ''Do you want me to warn you?'' She shakes her head as a no, waiting for him to enter. He kisses her nose, pushing his length slowly in her.

The feeling is...strange? It's the first time she's felt so stretched. He gives her time, not moving at all and his gaze remains fixed on her every movement. He takes her hand and entangles her fingers with his. She uses her other arm to put it around his neck, keeping him close to her.

''You're ok?'' He asks her, to be sure that she's not feeling uncomfortable. ''Yes. And you? You're in a good position?'' He kisses her cheek. ''Don't worry about me, darling.''

He moves his hips against hers, making her moan slightly. He almost takes out of her, then goes back in with a wet noise. ''Fuck you're so tight..'' He moaned, keeping a slow but pleasant pace. He allows himself to speed up, increasing the volume of the moans that echo through the room.

He hides his head in the crook of her neck, muffling his loud moans. ''Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!'' She keeps moaning, her hips moving at the same time as him.

This is probably the first time that Oscar is going to cum so quickly. He feels so good inside her. And he waited so long for this moment. The ball of excitement in his stomach is about to burst.

''O-Osc-Oscar..I'm..Uh..I..Fuck..I'm.. cumming..'' Her eyes roll back, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave of bricks. Her walls tighten around him and he barely takes a few seconds before his eyes close and he releases his hot seed in the condom.

''Did you just spill in my sister!?'' None of them have time to collect their minds before they turn their heads and see Lando, frowning and obviously very angry.

They were so involved in their lovemaking that they didn't hear Lando come into the room.

''LANDO!'' She grabbed a cushion and managed to throw it at him. Oscar withdraws from her hastily, reluctantly and pulls the blanket up over their naked bodies.

''Get dressed and Y/n, join me in your room. We need to talk.'' Lando is cold and strict in his voice. What he saw really didn't please him. He walks out of the room and slams the door behind him. Y/n meets Oscar’s gaze and they both laugh softly.

He gets up and gives her her clothes again, helping her to get dressed.

Once done, he can't help but kiss her tenderly and let her leave her room, stressed for her but also for him.

[tomanyhusbandz]

His Girl

18+ no minors

David x Black fem reader

Summary: David McCall spots you one day at the mall with your friends and find you the most intriguing. sneaking in your room, one night your father lectures you through the door, and David’s possessiveness kicks in, and he decides to stake his claim on you while your father speaks on the opposite side of the door. 

Author’s note: yall know the drill straight off the top (of my head)

Black fem reader,smut ish, possessiveness,kissing,biting,smoking

Mini flashback

You had not to long ago moved to this VERY suburban neighborhood with your mother and father who where both big shot lawyers and it was really awkward for you and your parents but you figured since they had so much money it shouldn’t be a problem to blend in. You had made a couple a friends on your first day at the new neighborhood school shockingly everyone was trying to get a piece of but you’d just roll your eyes and go on about your day not wanting to be anyone’s token black friend, despite that you met Nicole and Lora and they seemed pretty chill then one day you three where out and about at the mall when you notice a group of guys. They looked sketchy too sketchy for yours and Nicole’s liking but Lora was a free spirit you where fiddling with your nails when you noticed the silent one staring at you like his undressing you with his eyes.

He smiled with his eyes mysteriously watching your every movement down from your Mocha brown skin,Chanel pumps and frilly socks to your short black plaid skirt showing just a peek of your bow tattoos behind your thighs and that oh so neatly short button up white dress shirt you tied at the bottom making your curves teasingly entice anyone you walk past. You were like a siren you already had him hooked and he didn’t even know your name yet it made his breath catch and his heart flutter just from you rolling your eyes at him.

“Lora come on les go .. before I slip over this one’s drool” you say pointing over at him with your thumb making Nicole laugh covering her mouth one thing about you is your very out spoken something Lora couldn’t top you in

“So it’s like dat .. I can’t admire your beauty without you insulting me I’m wounded baby” The sexy stranger says with a million dollar smile on his face making you mentally bite your lip he was the hottest white boy you’ve seen in this town with a Jersey accent to top it off, doesn’t mean you ain’t gonna play hard to get

“Don’t call me baby i ain’t no body’s baby you have to earn this .. your cute though ciao !” You say linking arms with Nicole and Laura making sure to swing your hips as you walk away

“Ha! Well I’m David what’s your name!” he says shouting biting his lip as he follows running he catches up silently behind you his eyes watching your hips like a cat clock

“Y/n and that’s all your getting” you say laughing at his sudden per suite of getting anything he can from you

“Oh my gosh hooked already and she hasn’t gave you anything” Laura says a bit annoyed but humored as you all finally make it to your Ferrari which you let Nicole drive because you’ve seen Laura drive and it wasn’t the best

David silently watches you all climb in before quickly grabbing your hand and helping you climb over the seats watching you sit you look up at him and his grin with a sudden charm, a dangerous charm like he was hiding a bit of malice behind it but you shook the feeling as soon as he leaned both arms on the car supporting his chin he laid on top of them.

“So you gonna let me take you out .. or I gotta beg” he says his eyes low lidded and dark something about that you liked made your chest burn from the inside

“Mhmm I don’t know as much as I’d like to see you on yo knees I’d rather not .. but yeah you can take me out” you say biting your bottom lip the car revving up in the background you both ignore that signal from your friends you grab your receipt and write your address down and number handing it to him

“Good I’ll see youuu tonight ? but before you go you gotta give me something” he says in a whisper you both close to each other’s lips your French tip nail tracing his lips

“Do I ?” You say leaning closer to kiss him then the car slowly pulls off and the girls cackle along with you as you blow him a kiss

You watch from the back seat of the low top rrari he stands in the parking lot smirking as if he won the game you to just played you knew he was going to be trouble but you didn’t mind it, it was more fun for you that way you couldn’t piss your parents off anymore than you have.

Mini Flashback over

Ever since then you to had been inseparable where ever he went is where you went and same went for you. But sometime you needed space and that’s when David’s controlling side came out and he wanted to argue or try and manipulate you and make you feel bad about going out without him but he gave up on that when he realized you were going to do what you wanted anyway. No matter what he did you wouldn’t leave him even when your parents disagreed about him you kept seeing him and when they grounded you, you snuck out or he snuck in you where down for him and he was down bad for you.

Currently you where both in your room after you where grounded for the six time for joy riding in your dads new bentley with David and his friends your parents think his a bad influence on you but you didn’t care. Music played silently in the background as you blew smoke from your mouth and into David’s while you straddle him he laid under you examining your face, you scored some weed from his friend for free so you both were just silently mellowing out in your room while David rubbed his rough hands along your soft semi naked thighs fingertips sneaking under your pajama shorts, This was promptly his fifth night sneaking in and you were sure your dad knew but again you didn’t care.

“What ? .. you starin at me” you said smiling while the blunt hangs from your lips slapping his muscular chest his yankee cap backwards on your head

“Nothing you just look good on top of me” he says biting his lip and slapping your butt then taking the blunt from your lips

You giggle at his response before he could put the blunt to his lips you lean down and kiss his lips. He kissed you back possessive wrapping his hands in your hair tightly making you wince a little but shiver at the same time before he released you and took a hit then blew it out.

“So Lora has these too friends that wanna buy from you or maybe get it for free buttt they say they don’t like yo creepy rockstar friend” you say trying to slide off of him but he presses your thighs down so you can’t move keeping you in place with one hand

“Well then they don’t need a buy from me .. besides you the only one getting anything for free cause you mine “ he says in a growl almost intimidating you but making you excited at the same time

Before you could answer him you hear footsteps outside the door sounding like expensive dress shoes which only meant it was your dad again coming to lecture you about making good choices and dropping David.

“Are you smoking in there ?” He says frowning from the other side of the door that smell was familiar to him it reminded him of back when he was a teen the same reason he didn’t want you around David because of the stupid things he did

“NO! Daddy please not tonight i get it okay” you say rolling your eyes you look down at David who sits up on his elbows whispering for you to come closer which you couldn’t say no to he got a kick out of asserting dominance on you

“ Don’t get smart with me .. im just hear to tell you im sorry i just want what’s best for you” he says taking a deep sigh laying his forehead on the door in frustration

“Mhm ..” you say throwing your head back as David nibbles on your neck licking over the purple mark he left from earlier now sitting all the way up with you still in his lap he hold your waist making you grind against him

“And so does your mother we don’t want you knocked up and throwing away your future for some psycho your my little girl i just don’t wanna see you hurt ” he says sounding as if his waiting for your response not being able to hear much over your music playing in the background

“Mmh Dav … stop his right on the other side of the door” but he didn’t stop David’s hate fire was fueled by your fathers hateful words towards him he was right, David was a sick but he was sick for you and you for him, he knew you where down for whatever he asked you to do even if it meant pissing your parents off.

“Mh so .. I hope he hears us just so he knows’’ he says slipping his thumbs into the sides of your shorts bringing them under your butt revealing your satin panties, as he watched your eyes shut from his rough yet soft nibbling on your skin, your back arched over the edge of your bed a little

“ k-knows what” you say out of breath for his overstimulating bites and groping

The bed creaking from his slipping you off his lap and taking off his pants revealing his toned legs then he slips off his jersey showing his toned abdomen and wide shoulders. he turns around and bites his lip at you as he watches you from the bed, lean back on your elbows with your legs wide open and your shorts fully removed and just your panties on. Something his always imagined seeing you in he had just been playing nice since the first day you met the little cat and mouse game you would like to play, and he wanted to wait until you were ready but he could tell by that love drunk look on your face you wanted nothing but him.

“What’s that noise in there … is someone there and you’re lying to me again y/n!!” Your dad shouts from the outside turning the handle but it wouldn’t turn David smirked again and went over to you standing between your legs you lay back and slide your hand down his toned chest while yanking at his boxers eagerly.

“ That your my girl .. “he says watching your hands yank at his boxers pulling them all the way down as your dad hollers banging on the door in the background making David’s revenge all the more sweeter

[catwouthats]

Young Justice (98’) and their ACCENTS because it drives me insane

Bart Allen: Internet/game accent with a southerner twang (plus, speedsters process the world around them differently, including language, so I imagine there is a sort of “speedster accent” since he’s not used to speaking slow)

Anita Fite: Bayou, Haitian, and slight Jamaican accent (probably got not as strong after less time with her relatives. Btw her dad is Jamaican. Also, where did she move to with her dad after gma’s death? Bc that would influence it too)

Tim Drake: Gotham accent (NY or NJ. Mid-Atlantic) kinda privileged white boy version.

Kon El: I hc him as speaking in a “charming” city/suburb way (Delaware aka metropolis), while trying to hide that ever so slight rural mid-west accent from slipping out at certain words

Cissie King-Jones: A suburban east-coast accent (She is from Pennsylvania) but add the fact she goes to an all girls school (groups can form their own dialects)

Cassie Sandsmark: suburban east-coast accent mostly. (mixed slightly with NYC style accent)

Slobo: he’s from another planet, but if ya interpret how they spell what he says mixed with his personality you get rough city-southern (slurred speech with some consonants spat. Harsh, gravelly voice.)

Secret: She grew up in Rhode Island (suburbs I think?), so New England accent. Also, based on how they show her speech bubbles/text: soft spoken, week voice, strained

More languages headcanons:

- Kon tries to avoid saying words like “dog” around his friends and crushes. When he does have to say it, he’s very conscious of how his pronouncing it and will pause a moment before saying it slightly slow.

- Because of Bart being neurodivergent, he picks up accents easily. And his accent can fluctuate occasionally into the accent of who his speaking to. (This is technically canon)

- A Valley Girl moved to Cissies school and infected the whole school with her accent. She then has a slight valley accent for a bit (never fully goes away)

- Bart Allen confuses the FUCK out of other southerners since he speaks so fast with a slight southern accent.

- Bart’s voice is fucking weird in general bc he had to get used to speaking 10x slower than normal (bc VR world n shit)

- It’s canon that Cassie says “like” a lot, and I just wanna point that out again

- They all mock the way Tim speaks

- Nobody mocks the way Bart speaks (some of them want to but literally don know how to since his accent is so weird)

- Slobo’s accent is slightly softer than Lobo’s (genetic runt n all). He tries to force it to be harsh most of the time though.

- Secret is so soft spoke with a strained voice bc of her ptsd. After she becomes human again she is slightly better, but the way she strains her voice hurts her now since it’s a solid body.

- Not exactly a hc, but did Anita smack Kon after he mocked her accent? Bc if they didn’t show it in the comic, I hc she did. Kon tried to be better after mocking her accent that one time though (This is canon. She pretended something he said once was a racist thing and he got so scared. She laughed at him for it and said she was just messing).

- Strangers sometimes stare at Bart and Slobo talking to each other bc their accents are so odd. When one of them notice, they silently signal to the other, and then they both suddenly stop talking to turn ominously to the person looking. (They also later let Anita in on their trick bc they noticed that some racist people occasionally shoot her weird looks. They love scaring bigots with this trick.)

- After all her parents died, Anita noticed her accent start to slip and that frustrated her, so she made sure to make sure to have her Haitian accent prevail (visits to her hometown, etc.)

[alienoresimagines]

What about blush for the way to kiss prompt? 👀😊

[ blush ] for a kiss on the cheek

Here's 700-ish words of Buck being sleepy and pining, a mix that leaves him with none of his usual reserve resulting in a blushy Bucky 💕 I hope it can cheer you up a bit, Ame 🥺❤️ Also on AO3

Buck has too much to do and too little sleep, or alternatively, coffee, in his veins to be an amiable company. Yet John still insists on driving him to the mess with the jeep he isn't supposed to have and Gale can't say no; he's too tired to walk the 20 minutes to the mess or to bike there. Bucky's driving might just wake him up a bit actually. 

Except that 2 minutes in he finds himself dozing off, despite the bumps he knows to be on the road. Either he's more tired than he thought and hasn't even registered they'd passed them or John is driving deliberately slowly. The thought shakes him from his imminent slumber to find Bucky looking careful of all things as he drives the jeep, slowing down before each bump, driving them smoothly down the road. He hasn't even spoken a word since the engine roared to life, and warmth blooms deep in Gale's chest, spreading to his very toes as though back in Wyoming, lounging in a field under the summer sun.

Of course, Bucky would notice his being quieter than usual and offer him a relaxing drive to give him a few more precious minutes of sleep. 

However, Bucky thinking Gale would prefer silence over his chatter is nothing short of unacceptable.

Rubbing the last remnants of sleep off his eyes with his hand, he wills himself awake and ignores the exhaustion still clinging on to the marrow of his bones.

"You gettin' breakfast with me?" Bucky startles at his voice and frowns at him, as though surprised to see him awake. A sudden fear grips at Gale's heart that the other would offer to sing him to sleep but to his relief, John only rumbles a negative noise as he pulls to a stop to let mechanics cross the road.

"I'm Meatball's lawyer for the morning," that does peak Gale's interest, the mention of the dog enough to bring a light smile to his face. Nonetheless, the engine rumbling underneath him doesn't help his battle with sleep so Gale pinches at the bridge of his nose in hopes it would wake him up. Next to him, John observes him silently for a moment, mouth doing that little quirk it does when he wants to speak but hasn't decided on what to say yet.

The little mole on his chin is entirely too distracting for Gale's sleep-addled mind.

"What does Meatball need a lawyer for?" In Gale's opinion, the dog could do no wrong except howling his ears off when Benny puts him on a plane but apparently, one English farmer has a different opinion, according to John. Eyes slipping closed, lulled by the movements of the car and John's voice -which is decidedly quieter and softer than usual but that's something for future Gale to mull over, he decides-, he drifts in and out of sleep, a fake New-yorker accent washing over him like the warm breeze of summer spent in golden fields. There's a fleeting warmth on his left knee, and if his eyes weren't glued shut he'd open them to check it is what he thinks it is, the broadness and warmth of John's palm unmistakable, but as it is, he can only find comfort in it.

The next thing he knows, the car is pulling to a stop and Gale startles awake at the clamor of men leaving the mess, joyous chatter too loud in his ears compared to John's soothing voice. 

From the entrance of the building, Benny calls out his name then gestures inside, probably to let him know he'd save him a seat and Gale nods, a bit saddened the drive was so short. On his left, John is drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, exchanging a few quips with passersby and he looks so handsome in the early morning light, so sweet in his care that Gale's still not fully awake mind cannot find a reason not to lean over to feel a clean-shaven cheek against his lips. 

Mint and the distinctive smell of John's cologne surround him for a moment that is definitely too short, and all he can think about is how it would feel, now that he knows how soft John's cheek is, to kiss his lips and the coarse hair of his mustache. Against him, John freezes but barely a second passes before Gale mutters a "Thanks for the ride, Bucky" and slips out of the jeep and into the mess.

Behind him, John stares bewildered at his back, mouth slightly open in shock and ears red as berries, slowly bringing his hand to his cheek to trace the ghost of Gale's soft lips with his fingers.

What just happened? 

My other Clegan fics

[dullgecko]

I felt compelled to do language headcanons and got carried away… Sorry!

Gorgug speaks in a mix of Gnomish and Orcish when he gets really into an artificing project or when he’s genuinely pissed(not in a Rage, just actually mad), like to the point it’s unintelligible even with Adaine casting Understand Language.

Fig does something similar when she gets mad just a mix of Elvish and Infernal, though it’s easier for Adaine and Fabian to understand that one. Everyone knows not to bother her if she’s mumbling in both languages since it takes a lot to get her to that point, usually Ayda has to come in and calm her down.

Riz and Gorgug both have a thing where they forget the word for something in Common and try to come up with what they think it is, with wild descriptions and weird names for it. Meanwhile Fig and Kristen are laughing at each attempt, Adaine is begging them to just say it in their respective languages while she’s casting Understand Languages, and Fabian is genuinely playing along trying to guess what they’re saying(He is SO far off).

The Thistlesprings have that country-like accent because Gnomish has a similar sound to it, the only times they speak in Common is when Gorgug has friends over or when they’re around people who don’t understand Gnomish. So by default Gorgug has a slight country accent, though it isn’t noticeable unless he says certain words.(I’m giving a reason for the “Even cowgirls get the blues” if you couldn’t tell.)

(Not language related but eh) Riz, Fig, Gorgug, and Ragh all make animalistic noises. Often they purr or growl softly when all the bad kids are in a cuddle pile or when they’re just cozy, Ragh is the loudest.

Adaine got taught how to howl and growl correctly by Jawbone, specifically how to do it in an affectionate way. Tracker cried when she came back home and was immediately greeted by both Jawbone and Adaine howling their love for her. Kristen was very confused, then later started to learn it as well, for Tracker.

Fabian can’t speak Halfling, he only new the songs Cathilda sang to him as a kid and realized he should probably try and learn it. He went to one if the Halfling teachers during Junior year and begged him to teach him the language so he could surprise Cathilda with a proper greeting when she got back home. He still wasn’t very good at it when she arrived, he mixed up a word and ended up calling her a canoe, but she still cried at her beautiful boy’s effort.

Kristen sometimes just sits and stares when one of the others rant in a different language, then when they’re finished she goes, “I’m sure you’re very correct in whatever opinion you just had.” and moves on. It’s very therapeutic to rant to someone who can’t understand what you’re saying and still supports your opinions, apparently.

Oh its beautiful, i love it. Multi-lingual bad kids my beloved.

Gorgugs orcish isnt anywhere near as fluent as his gnomish or common, but its gotten a lot better since they became friends with Ragh and his mum. He tries to chat with her in orcish whenever they meet, and she helps him with his pronounciation. He mostly has trouble with the more gutteral sounds, but he's getting better at roaring with Ragh and his mums help. Riz helps him practice too whenever they're out of town, because he ALSO knows Orcish but he never elaborates on how he is fluent when asked (he used to play chess with some elderly orcs who lived down the hallway from him while his mum was at work, and he's a quick study).

He enjoys speaking it when he gets genuinely pissed because gnomish just sounds hilarious when spoken with anger. They dont have good swear words, the harshest one that exists in gnomish is the equivilent of 'fiddlesticks'.

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

Infernal is also an awesome language to be pissed off in, it allows for a lot of harsh consonants and yelling and maybe a little horrifying screaming. Elvish however is great when you really want to insult someone in a way that would cause psychic damage. Combining the two is /incredibly/ satisfying because you can call someone a "*screeches of the damned* piece of shit whos parentage is *horrifying chattering* and he deserves to rot forever in the foresaken bowels of the inferno where he'll be turned into a *hissing and clicking*". Riz looking over from where he's half-ignoring her and going 'oh damn, goblin also uses that last one" before adding another note to a document he and Fig regularly update called 'words shared by infernal and goblin'.

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

"You know, the THING. You put it on food. Tastes good, will kill you if you have too much." "Chilli powder?" "NO its a rock. it literally translates out to tasty rock in goblin." "What the fuck are you on about who eats rocks." SALT, the answer was salt.

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

All of Gorgugs extended family live out in farming country away from the city. His parents took him to visit a lot over summer breaks when he was little and still fit inside their houses (he loved watching the ponies as a kid, and the accent became well and truely stuck). Now he'd be too big to get through the front door, but at reunions they usually clear a space out in the barn where he can sleep.

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

Riz, Fig, Gorgug and Ragh making more animalistic noises is pretty well known amoung the group. Ragh and Gorgug definitely purr and growl, but when REALLY pissed off they can also roar and bellow in a way that other people can feel in their chests.

Riz and Fig have definitly started doing it more the longer they've known the others (Riz because he was trying VERY hard to not seem super monster-y but is now a lot more comfortable being himself and Fig because she's still becoming more infernal slowly). There are still some noises the others have only heard recently though, which both happened over about ten seconds. Riz had been hanging out with the others at the mall, and both himself and Fig had stepped away from the others to get refills on their drinks. None of the others really saw what started it but a stranger had grabbed and picked up Riz which made him make a screeching-yowling noise of pain and anger so loud that they heard it from across the food court. Figs own infernal snarl of rage was almost as loud as the sound of the assholes nose breaking when she promptly headbutt him at full strength to make him drop the goblin. Riz managed to get a good swipe in at the guys achilies before promptly disappearing while Fig ran.

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

Jawbone loves his kids, and Adaine loves him back. She feels a little silly howling everytime he comes home but its a good kind of silly. It feels a little LESS silly when half the house is doing it together.

She has to be careful with the growling though, and who she growls at. What might be a fun and playful cadence for Jawbone and Tracker made Riz's pupils contract to slits and his ears flatten backwards before he clocked it was her and put the pieces together (Oh its Adaine, she is not pissed off and threatening me. Wait why the fuck did she growl at me?).

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

Fabian spoke halfling before he spoke common, but forgot a LOT of it as he got older (but he never forgot the words to those songs). He spends months using fantasy duolinguo to bring his fluency back up and, after surprising Cathilda with how good he's gotten, starts getting proper lessons from her as well (she is by far more terrifying than the language bird, so he never misses practice time).

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

Kristen knows some elvish, but not well enough to parse the more rapid-fire ranting that she sits through so she just nods and makes general noises of agreement at points she thinks are appropriate.

Riz she has ZERO hope of understanding because they dont shift their vocal register to a level she can hear the entire time when they're really pissed off (there are a lot of subsonics that elves and orcs can only JUST pick up, but her human hearing has no hope), even after the whole party starts learning goblin in secret to surprise Riz later. She smiles, nods, and makes him a new coffee when his old one runs out.

[kn-1013]

Sal Headcannons

I've done headcannons and Larry and Travis, so now it's time for my Sal headcannons. CW for mentions of suicide.

His Jersey accent used to be a lot thicker, but faded over time as he lived in Nockfell. He still calls it 'wutter' instead of 'water' though, and Larry makes fun of him for it (S: Can I get some wutter? L: No, I can get you some water though).

Henry and Sal are pretty isolated from the rest of their family. Diane's family don't like Henry because they think he had something to do with Diane's death, and they've tried to influence Sal to believe that he did, but it didn't work. They aren't in contact with Henry's parents because quite frankly they're just awful people, and Henry hasn't spoken to them since Sal was very young.

Sal takes bugs outside with a cup and is unnerved by squishing them.

He can't drive because his depth perception has been pretty badly damaged from both losing one eye, and the mild brain damage he received after the shooting. He still feels comfortable enough to ride his bike most of the time, though.

Yeah, he got a bit of brain damage after the shooting, and experiences mild issues with balance, vertigo, depth perception, swallowing, occasionally with speech, and reading/reading comprehension.

He was born with a cleft lip and palette, and that coupled with the missing cheek and the brain damage makes it so that he has a mild speech impediment most noticeable with P's (they can sound more like B's), and S's (slight lisp), and he often slurs his speech slightly, especially when he's tired. He also has tendencies to skip over words when speaking, say them out of order, or conjoin words.

He has ADHD.

Despite his lack of a license, he has been driving a couple of times before, though it's usually because Larry convinced him to. Larry would drive his truck down to an isolated location and have Sal drive around for fun, and it was mostly just donuts because as soon as Sal learned how to do those, that was all he wanted to do.

After the shooting, Henry started drinking heavily and began neglecting his son's posttraumatic needs, and most other needs. He also got bullied for his face and his feminine nature very heavily, getting worse as he got older and the teens got meaner. His friends mostly defended him, but they could be just as mean at times, and it never really felt like he was a part of the group as much as he was their pet freak. This all caused Sal to become extremely bitter and mean for a long time, which comes as a surprise to his friends, having only known him as a very kind person.

He attempted suicide once, when he was around fifteen or sixteen, as a result of the mounting stress and mental health problems. This is what caused Henry to really wake up about his alcoholism, realizing that if he couldn't better, then he'll lose his son, too.

In the aftermath of this attempt, after having to deal with patronizing doctors for weeks, Sal managed to express his bitterness and hatred and anger properly for the first time in years by yelling at his father about it until he broke down. This was the beginning of their relationship beginning to heal. Still, Sal said a lot of things he regrets now during that breakdown. (S: If you took five minutes to stop pickling your frontal love in Miller Lite, you'd have enough brain cells left to realize what was going on with me a lot sooner.)

Sal hates doctors more than anything, having had some very negative experiences with them over the years. He finds them extremely patronizing and often feels gaslit after talking to one professionally, because they're often extremely homophobic to him, assuming that his gender non-conformity is somehow the result of an Ed Gein-like pathology. If they're not being homophobic, they see his face, his disabilities, and his psychiatric issues, and they start treating him like a toddler, (it gets worse in psychiatric hospitals).

With how I write him, Sal definitely has quite a bit of BPD, but with the original storyline, he wouldn't have gotten the chance to get diagnosed. In AUs, he probably gets diagnosed sometime in his early to mid twenties, as that's when his symptoms really become apparent as relationships in his life start getting more serious and his old coping mechanisms start becoming much more pathological.

I've given some of my weird bullshit to Travis (autism) and Ash (mystery, because I haven't made her post yet lol), so I've also been giving Sal some too: He has POTS, but Henry explained it to Sal as 'your mom's heart thing'. It started when he was around 14, and got progressively worse over the years, but he didn't know it was a problem until Lisa pointed out that he wasn't experiencing a normal fatigue when she took his blood pressure with her at-home monitor one time, and he displayed tachycardia and low blood pressure. He often wears compression gear underneath his clothes to help, and can often be seen drinking pickle juice, because it's cheaper than pedialyte.

Due to the everything that's wrong with him, he's very passionate about disability justice.

His favorite horror movie is Texas Chainsaw Massacre, because it was the first one he watched with Larry. To this day, he maintains that Bubba Sawyer did nothing wrong, that it was the fault of those stupid teenagers, and that the sequels take away what made the first movie so good by making them so over the top.

He watched Carrie once and it made him cry. In retrospect, it reminds him somewhat of Travis.

Considers Nightmare on Elm Street a kid's movie.

His favorite actor is Michael Berryman, as he is a successful and well-liked person with facial/body differences, and that makes him feel a bit more confident in himself.

Sal has a lot of gender-differences, but I don't know if he would ever label it officially. I do think he should try Estrogen though. It's a recreational drug, he'll like it.

With sexuality, I think Sal is bisexual. As far as types go, I think he's most into people with more dominant personalities than his; people who like to talk more, people who are very passionate, people who know what they want, people who can take the lead in a relationship because he's definitely too nervous for that, etc. I think Ash falls into this category, which is what draws him to her.

Larry also falls into this category as well, if we wanna talk Sal/Larry. He has more experience and stands on a more solid ground identity-wise than Sal does, which makes him a great rock and dominant character in the relationship.

Travis does not fall into this category, at least not at first, because he simply doesn't feel very comfortable with himself or in a relationship with another guy at first. Especially with Sal, I think this would probably be his, like, first or second relationship, so he's not very experienced at all, and has trouble knowing what he wants. But, this changes a lot as he grows into himself and eventually becomes the more dominant one of the relationship.

No matter what the end-goal ship is for the story i'm writing, I always picture Sal and Ash having dated for a bout a year or so during or after high school, then breaking up, usually either for Ash's college reasons, or general mutual reasons, such as Sal not being stable enough for a relationship mentally, or realizing they do better as friends.

Upon reflecting on the relationship, Ash describes dating Sal as more like dating a girl than a guy. All things considered, she holds Sal in high esteem as a partner, as he was very attentive to her needs and generally eager to communicate. Though, his biggest issue was that he could be cagey and didn't like it when she focused on him too much, due to his insecurities and fears around intimacy.

Sal has always been feminine and faggy, which is why it was somewhat of a surprise to Henry when it turned out he DID like girls, just in addition to boys. Not that that's a bad thing, he just wasn't expecting it.

Henry's parents are pretty homophobic, and instilled a lot of that into him, but a lot of that started changing when he had his own son, who seemed so pleased to wear fairy princess dresses that Henry couldn't bring himself to do to Sal what was done to him in the name of an increasingly arbitrary masculinity. He ended up having to argue with a lot of doctors to leave Sal's expression alone, because they kept claiming that it was some kind of pathological issue that needed to be fixed, and not just who he was. (H: The problem isn't that he's a fag, he's always been that way! The problem is that his mother was killed right in front of him, and his face was disfigured! Why don't you focus on that?)

This is getting a bit long now, lol. I'll need to make a part two at some point because I think about Sal way too much. It's very easy for me to write for him, because we have a lot of very similar experiences with 'random tragedies'. He's probably my favorite to write for, aside from Todd.

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

-

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

-

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

-

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

-

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

-

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

-

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

-

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

-

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

-

Race day arrives. 

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

-

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

-

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

-

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

-

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

-

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[dalekowrites]

What do you think the characters in After Dark sound like? I know it's a weird question, but I love imagining what they sound like when they talk haha

Oh, I love this question!! Thank you for asking it! I don't often get the chance to think about it because my imagination tends to work in a very descriptive, written way, and I have to actively make an effort to picture sounds and voices. So this really helped me do that ☺

Michael: he has a deep voice for a 17-year-old. If he were a singer, he'd probably be a bass. In the mornings he has a somewhat gravelly voice, a detail that pops up again when he's starting to feel exhausted. Since he's very charismatic, he's able to modulate his voice attractively when he has to... But you can still notice the tension in his voice when he's very stressed, just a crack here or there.

Abigail: her voice is mature, pleasantly calm but kind of husky, like she's always tired but still manages to sound warm and comforting. She speaks slowly and deliberately, like she's really thinking about what she's saying, especially around younger people—she's got a way of talking to them that's super gentle, almost like a big sister. Still, when she needs to be firm, she can be really firm. If she loses her baby, her voice gets less warm and way... darker.

Male Kay: his voice is kind of unpredictable—he's got a light baritone base, but it will pitch up when he's nervous or blabbering too much (and let's be real, that happens fairly often lol). His speech is all over the place—rambling, second-guessing himself, maybe throwing in a sarcastic quip because humor is a coping mechanism, right?—and makes a heavy use of slang, especially internet-related. Also, he's still kind of young so his voice tends to crack, occasionally.

Female Kay: she's an alto! Her voice is smooth and easy to listen to, but her behaviour isn't different from Male Kay and so, her speech pattern is the same. Also, when she's nervous, she speaks way too fast.

Divya: she's soft-spoken, delicate but steady, with an articulate and precise speech. You might catch an accent that gives away something about her background. Still, when she's angry (often) or she's standing her ground (even more often) or she's defending Max (basically always), she sounds very firm, often using a sarcastic, cutting tone.

Male Max: still high-pitched, with a voice that hasn't fully deepened due to his age. When he speaks up (and that happens rarely), his voice shakes and cracks, and he tends to stammer, mostly mumbling. There is one exception: when he talks about his specific interests, his voice becomes more relaxed, although his shyness can still be noticed in his tone.

Female Max: very sweet, high-pitched and yet feeble. Her speech pattern is the same of Male Max.

Thank you again for this great question! ♥

[zeninsama-moved]

wanted to write a lil something about big brother naoya... this is my first time writing anything kinda long in a WHILE so i'm proud of myself :') i needed the practice so be nice to me. who knew all it took was incest and piss LMAO also can u believe i used caps for this one <3

tw for incest and piss, themes of humiliation and degradation (mostly the situation, "slut" used once), female reader (she/her prns and petnames like "baby girl" used), naoya is his own warning and he's kind of a dick, maybe a little clan-relevant misogyny if you squint, fingering, naoya gets a boney but this isn't about him, not really proofread u get what u get, naoya has a shitty accent and it's inconsistent

word count: 2.5k

Half an hour into your big brother's tirade, you realize you really need to pee.

All your objections fall upon deaf ears, your big brother telling you to shut up, stay quiet, or fuckin' listen each time you interrupt his ranting to try to ask. It's pointless. So instead, you bow your head in submission, whimpering from the painful straining of your bladder.

Fuck, you need to go. You're not sure how much longer you can hold it, but it's not for you to decide. You know your brother – when he's this angry, he could keep berating you for at least another hour.

You interrupt him once more.

"Please, nii-sama, I've learned my lesson, okay? I'm sorry!"

Above you, Naoya scoffs, arms folding over his broad chest. “I don’t believe that for a fuckin’ second. First you humiliate me in front of the elders, now yer talkin' to me like I'm some kind of idiot? Is that what this is? You think yer better than me?"

It's been a while since you've seen Naoya this upset. Even with his short temper, your sister antics usually only leave him mildly annoyed. Your brother doesn't take it lightly when he feels embarrassed – even worse, undermined – and by his little sister of all people. His little baby of a sister that's meant to walk three steps behind him, bow her head, speak when spoken to. Yes, Naoya-sama. No, Naoya-sama.

"No, nii-sama," you're weeping shamelessly at his feet, your face hot and hands fisting at the skirt of your kimono, all while your bladder strains painfully. "Please, I'm sorry! It hurts, nii-sama, please let me go."

It's probably a matter of seconds now, maybe a minute at best. You're begging, silently praying to whatever Gods are listening that Naoya will take mercy on you and let you up, let you rush to the bathroom in a technique-imbued sprint so you can finally get a release from this pain. You'll even settle for pity at this point, because if you let go now, release your bladder right in front of your brother – all over the tatami, all over your kimono – you'll never hear the end of it.

Imagining the walk of shame to the nearest servant, forced to explain the mess you’ve made in the other room with a heated face and head bowed in shame – all while your big brother laughs – sends a chill through your body.

You don't notice your head fell until Naoya cradles your face, lifting it up to meet his gaze again. He's crouched to your height now, both face and touch uncharacteristically gentle when compared to... well, everything else about him. His palm is warm, yet rough from nearly three decades of back-breaking training and battle.

For a moment, you think you're lucky. Maybe Naoya is finally taking pity on you after seeing you tremble, your bottom lip quivering and eyes wet with tears as you plead for his mercy. After seeing you look weak in comparison to him.

"Hey," he coos, caressing your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear and relishing in the way you keen into his touch. His baby sister. His sweet girl that's depended on him every day since birth, relying on her onii-sama to guide her. "You know I'm not doin' this to be mean, right? Yer just... gettin' too mouthy for yer own good."

"Naoya-nii," you whimper, voice breaking. "I can't hold it anymore, please."

"Yeah, you can," he sighs. "Dumb baby, just shut up a second and listen to me."

Another gentle hand rests on your shoulder. When Naoya holds you like this, it almost feels loving. He presses a kiss to your hairline, dampened with sweat from your body's exertion. You take a deep breath, trying to will the ache in your bladder to go away. For a moment, it does.

"If ya mouthed off to anyone else, they'd throw yer ass in the disciplinary pit, but not me. Is that why you do it? You know you can be a brat to me 'cause I won't beat yer ass about it? Tell me."

You nod shakily. "Yes, Naoya-nii."

"Look at me."

You do. Naoya's features look softer, kinder, more like the brother you love. The one that would gently push on your back to make you bow when you were young. The one that held your hand and snuck you out of the estate during the summer to show you the fireflies. The one that, despite threatening to leave yer ass out to dry when he catches you meddling in places you shouldn't, always takes the fall for it so you don't get punished.

But he can only do so much for you. For now, at least. When the old man inevitably bites it, making him the clan head, he'll be untouchable. Therefore you will be too.

The urge returns. How did you forget?

Naoya watches your eyes widen, your lips part in a stammer.

"Shh," he soothes, silencing whatever you're about to say with his finger over your lips, then replacing the digit with his own.

The kiss is soft, you try and distract yourself with the feeling of his lips, more assertive than yours, and his tongue softly prying you open. The hand on your shoulder ventures lower, smoothing over linen, fingers digging under your obi to loosen it in a practiced motion. Eventually, he accesses the ties to your kimono, loosening that as well until the fabric parts, exposing your body to him, ignoring your whimpers and pleas of protest.

It's not that you don't want him to touch you, because fuck, you really want him to touch you, you're aching for it. It's the throbbing pain inside that looms over your head in a constant reminder. You can't do this right now. If his fingers touch you, god forbid enter you, you're not sure you'll be able to hold it. The slightest amount of pressure and –

"Look at you," Naoya sighs, allowing himself to be swept up in lust. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, hair tickling your face as his lips trail down your neck and nip at the sensitive skin. "So fuckin' beautiful. My beautiful girl, aren't ya?"

Still, you're keening into his touch. The linen of your kimono hangs limp over your body, Naoya reaches underneath it and palms your breast, groaning silently against your skin. The hand cradling your face repositions, caressing your jaw before pushing two thick fingers past your lips, leaving you no choice but to accept them. You do it dutifully, allowing your brother to glide his fingers over your tongue, even hollowing your cheeks weakly around them.

Naoya takes and takes. It's no different when it comes to your body. The blood rushes to his cock, tenting the fabric of his hakama as it swells. His hands only get greedier, moans sounding more desperate as he gropes at your body, feeling your nipples harden under his palm, your skin so unbearably soft. He wants to sink his teeth in you, mark you in places only he has the privilege to see. He finds the warmth of your mouth so tempting, so inviting, he can't help but push his fingers deeper. You choke around his fingers, coating them in a rush of saliva.

"Open your legs," Naoya orders, hand now resting atop your thigh, both of them still clenched tightly together, attempting to push them apart. Your eyes widen in panic.

"Naoya-nii, I can't," you mutter, shaking your head frantically. "At least let me go first. I'll be fast, I promise–"

"Nah," Naoya teases, lips curling in a sharp grin. "Trained you to be a real good girl, didn't I? You can hold it a few more minutes."

"I can't!"

"You will."

Your body acts on its own, betraying your will and allowing your brother to manhandle you into a position he finds more acceptable. Your legs open so easily for him, giving him access to your now unclothed pussy. Spit-slick fingers rub over your folds, gathering the wetness there. You let out a shaky breath.

"After all, it would be real fuckin' embarrassing if you did," Naoya drawls, his voice always takes on this soft, condescending tone when he teases you. "If you pissed yourself, I mean."

Naoya kisses you again, this time skipping the pleasantries and parting your lips with his tongue, greedily licking against your own to taste the inside of his sister's mouth. You're overextending yourself, trying to focus on too many things at once to forget how dangerously close you are to pissing yourself, because if you were to let go right now, it would get all over your big brother's hand – and then you really wouldn't catch a break. So you try to focus on the softness of his tongue, on the pleasure of his fingers finding friction over your swollen clit.

"I don't wanna," you whimper, voice sounding like that of a petulant child. "Naoya-nii..."

"No?" He mocks, nearly grinning from ear to ear. "Don't wanna piss yourself like a dumb baby? Then don't."

One hand grips your hip to steady you, the fingers on his other finally breaching the tight entrance of your cunt. Your jaw drops, mouth hanging open in a moan. His fingers are thick. He always gives you two right off the bat, claiming he's being generous and prepping you for his dick instead of making you take it. It's funny, how he loves you like that.

His sweet baby sister, opening for him like a flower.

Pleasure sparks through your body as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, providing the right amount of pressure in tandem with his prodding fingers. Your mouth hangs open, unmoving and pliant while his tongue licks into it, kissing the corner of your lips. The fullness of your bladder makes everything feel so much more sensitive, more responsive as your brother works his fingers and and out of your cunt, aided by your saliva and drooling arousal.

Knowingly, his fingers reposition and curve, finding that spot within you and targeting it with the pads of his fingers. It triggers what you've been fighting so hard to hold. For the first time since he started berating you, you move, hands clinging to his clothed forearm, clawing at it in desperation. Your body and mind are on two different pages, the little voice in your head still grounded in reality screaming for you to push him off. Maybe you could swing it with a desperate surge of cursed energy, but your hands urge his fingers deeper, keeping them pressed against that spot.

Naoya seems to like this, cock throbbing at the sight of you trying to get yourself off on his fingers. He can feel your pussy squeezing, sucking them deeper.

"Hey, you forget your fuckin' manners?" He reprimands, though the amused look on his face doesn't match his tone. He's getting off on this, the sick bastard. You know he is. "Gonna ask me first or were you just gonna keep humping my hand like some desperate slut?"

"Please, Naoya-nii," you blurt out, the tightly-wound coil inside you clenching tighter by the second.

"The fuck was that?"

"Nii-sama," you correct, pleading. It's so fucking close. "Nii-sama, please, can I cum?"

Naoya hums, pretending to think it over. His fingers plunge in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace, filling the small room with the obscene squelching of your arousal. Your hips move on their own, desperate to meet his pace, riding his thick fingers to chase the high. Maybe you have the restraint to hold it, let yourself cum on his fingers and still have enough time to rush to the bathroom before it takes a turn for the worse.

"Gonna pull that shit again?" He asks, pace not relenting. "Hm? Gonna lash out at me again like a spoiled brat when everyone can see you? Make me look like a fuckin' idiot?"

"No!"

"Yeah, better fuckin' not. Undermine me again and I'll kill ya. Now cum for me."

You don't need any further prompting. Your body goes lax, walls clamping snug around Naoya's fingers before releasing, soaking them in a hot rush of cum. He fucks you through it, not once stopping or slowing, narrow brown eyes watching your pussy coat his knuckles in a layer of milky white. "There's my good girl," he praises, soft but sweet, only ever meant for you to hear. "There's my good baby girl, that's it, let me have it."

It hits you for the last time before your orgasm even finishes, the relaxing of your muscles. You physically can't hold it back anymore, even if you could, it's far too late.

There's another surge of warmth, the wet sloshing of another liquid streaming from your spread legs and making a mess on your brother's hand, soaking the sleeve of his haori, soaking the tatami, trickling down your inner thighs in clear rivulets. Naoya's jaw drops, eyes widening at the sight. Even then, he can't fucking stop.

"What did I say, huh? Didn't I tell you to hold it?" His fingers press harder at your inner walls, ramping up the pace, desperate to fuck every last drop from you as his cock throbs under his hakama. "You're that incapable, can't even hold your own piss?"

You're fucking horrified.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama!" you sob. "I didn't mean to, I promise!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sneers. "Go on then, let it out."

With no other option, you resign yourself. Your body slumps forward onto Naoya's broader frame, shuddering, the urine releasing in pulsating gushes along with your orgasm, further soaking everything else. Hand, haori, tatami, even the linen of your kimono pooled underneath you. Your body is overwhelmed. Your face burns hotter, eyes drooping in exhaustion and relief. Blood rushes in your ears, heart pounding loud enough, you're certain Naoya can hear it.

The room spins.

Naoya's opposite hand rubs your back in a rare act of affection. It feels different from pity. He kisses the top of your head, then your shoulder, allowing you to come down slowly.

As the rushing of blood quiets, you're too ashamed to pull your face from the crook of his neck.

"Kid, look at me."

"Don' wanna."

"Come on."

Sniffling, you force yourself upright, still kneeling on your jello legs.

Still kneeling on the cold, soaked garments. Gross.

Naoya cradles your feverish cheek. You look cute like this, lips pouted, face absolutely debauched. His heart swells in his chest.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama."

"You kidding me?" He laughs under his breath. "You know how hot that fuckin' was? Almost came in my pants 'cause of you. Wanna see you do that shit again for me."

Embarrassed, you scoff and look away, but your brother redirects you, kissing you once more – chaste, but gentle. Reassuring.

After that, he leans back and starts undressing from the waist up, shrugging off his haori, working on his kimono, all until the soiled garments sit in a heap.

"Now go get someone to clean this shit up."

"Me?" You ask, incredulous, looking down at your disheveled form – still soaked, might you add. "Can't you go find someone to do it?"

"I wasn't the one that pissed myself, little sis. Now get out of here."

[headfullof-ideas]

Thinking about the Nektons and their ethnicities, the languages they might speak, and Dark Orca Dynasties post about Australian Kathryn, and then thought about her husband, who might be French? Jacques is a French name, could Jacques be French or part French? I’m headcanoning him as at least part French now, or at least growing up there.

Now on to the point of this post. What accents do the Nektons have? Kaiko and Will are from different cultures and ethnicities and likely raised in different parts of the world, and they and their children travel all over the world since Ant and Fontaine were either born or very very little. SO, I don’t think they all have just one kind of accent

Will: Had a mix of an Australian and French accent as a kid, and it petered off as he got older and started moving to other places. It’s still there in the subtext, but it’s not too thick. Can kind of affect a poor Japanese accent due to trying to win over Kaiko’s parents. His accent gets really heavy when he’s flirting with Kaiko or REALLY tired or mad. When he’s speaking another language he tries to affect the accent it’s spoken in, to varying degrees of success

Kaiko: A mixture of Japanese and Greek (her great grandmother was Mediterranean and Kaiko spent a lot of time in that area growing up with her great grandmother and friends there, so she picked up a bit of the accent). She has a bit of an American accent as well, due to lots of her coworkers in the World Oceans Authorities having that accent which she started subconsciously picking up on. Her accent is pretty light due to her time at the WOA, but it gets prominent when she’s relaxed and heavy when she’s mad

Ant and Fontaine: Nobody knows what Heck kind of accent they have. They were surrounded by so many different accents and languages growing up that they just have a kaleidoscope of accents smushed into one weirdly indiscernible accent. You pick up something or another here or there, but they don’t have one dominant accent. More a mix of their parents and extended families wide variety of accents. It gets stronger here or there depending on what words they use, or how mad they get. They are also really good at picking out someone’s faint accent by ear, or learning an accent they don’t have by ear as well

And then just because, Nate and Kari’s accents

Nate has the same accent as the coastal town that he lives in, which sees a wide variety of people coming through due to tourism and the fact the town he lives in serves as a destination stop for the occasional cruise ship. He has the tiniest bit of an Italian accent as well from his Italian grandmother, though it’s not noticeable until some cooking crime occurs in his vicinity or he gets super excited and rambly.

Kari has an American accent, specifically from the midwestern region where she grew up. Her family lives in Seattle, where she also lived for most of her adolescence, when she wasn’t with her dad at the Nektons base in the summers. As she spent more time there as she got older, she picked up a little bit of the accent from that area (same as Nate’s) but nothing too crazy or noticeable. More like a subtext, and some specific ways of saying words here or there.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Has anyone written a guide on

How to write New York AAVE - for Miles & Miles!42

?? If so let me reblog it but if not I might write something. I don't really read for them but there are a lot of New York specific terms I can drop if anyone wants. Some of them I use in my posts (like saying 'I'm weak' in place of 'I'm laughing really hard).

Follow up question:

Do you notice any AAVE in my posts? Do any of my sayings or terms confuse you? I'm so curious cause EVERYONE IRL around me speaks fluent AAVE 24/7 unless they're in an office setting.

Every person in my school spoke it. Because it's our default way of speaking and we switch out of it, I don't notice the large differences sometimes.

[One time I was overseas and I was speaking and a British dude (granted drunkness was happening) was like 'OH you're from Texas right :) I can hear the twang' and I was like ?????????????? Absolutely not my friend now take it back ??????????

The Midwestern girls next to me was like 'ummmm he sounds extremely New Yorker, like it's not even funny'

I realized he probably thought I was Texan because I say 'y'all' A LOT. I use it 100% of the time. Saying 'you guys' here is seen as really formal. But at the time because I didn't realize I was saying y'all and speaking AAVE in front of foreigners, and since it isn't really spoken in movies or on TV - it sounded foreign and very very thick in front of them]

That's why I try to write in AAVE when I can. It's quicker, has a lot of fun sayings, and it's a legitimate writing and speech pattern with it's own words, some words having changed meanings in AAVE (like feigning or scary), and lots of other small things.

But if someone has already written it let me share it cause I wanna read

BUT IF I DO WRITE THE POST I WOULD LIKE TO DO A SOCIAL EXPERIMENT -

[It takes less than five minutes of your time and involves listening to a song]

If you've read this far and you wanna see the post, I'd love to try a little experient.

I'm really curious how knowledgeable everyone is in AAVE, and how much if it is completely lost in translation. So idea:

Act Up by City Girls is a popular rap song written completely in New York AAVE.

It's 2:30 minutes long. Can you do me a favor and go listen to it? (If English is your second language, I'd love to hear your thoughts too!) And just notice:

How much you do understand their accent, as in are you making words out of it, even if the sentences sound confusing?

How much of the lines you feel like you comprehend or get the joke?

And for fun, are there any words you either don't know at all, or words you know being used in a weird way?

WARNING: THE SONG IS VERY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT AND THEY BE CURSIN

FOR EXAMPLE of AAVE -

Like in the song Yung Miami - her name itself being AAVE for 'Young' Miami - says the lyric

'Hood bitch, good pussy

I ain't average

He can't come around with that cabbage

Pop a pussy bitch quick like a bubble gum'

Did you understand that the first time she meant a literal pussy, and the second she meant it as 'someone who isn't about their word'. Meaning she'll punch the hell out of a girl who she thinks is asking for it.

Or that cabbage is supposed to mean money?

These are just some of the lighter lines. But if you have the time, like 3-4 minutes, please check out the song and let me know your thoughts!

Also do you already know the song or City Girls?

I'm just really curious about how much AAVE people know and how in depth to go if I do write it. I'm SO SO CURIOUS.

Bye.

[w3bgrl]

3racha and juyeon

a/n: ship popularity is 1-8 with one being the most popular and 8 being the least! this is rated by stay interaction and not a representation of the member’s feelings toward one another.

bang chan + kang juyeon ♡ bangju

ship popularity: 2/8

first to meet juyeon!!

met in a jyp dance class in june 2014 and slowly started hanging out. they would go spend the little money they had getting a snack after class and ended up seeing each other at least once a day

juyeon and chan eventually found out they were both making their own music quietly and started bouncing ideas off of each other and offering constructive criticism

she was the first to support 3racha when they began working together and single-handedly promoted them herself, sending their music in text chains to her family and friends

chan says she is the ‘racha’ in 3racha because she is the spice, but juyeon is not officially a part of 3racha. she has featured in a few of their songs, namely hoodie season, scene stealers, and 42.

juyeon certainly tends to be chan’s caretaker due to knowing him so well and knowing how stressful the leader position can be.

when it’s just the two of them juyeon forces him to speak in english so she can try to mimick his accent

definitely bros, although sometimes they’re a little flirty as they’re both venus signs (๑>◡<๑)

seo changbin + kang juyeon (chu) ♡ binchu

ship popularity: 1/8

their first impressions were not great tbh

predebut, juyeon found changbin intimidating and unintentionally avoided talking to him, which made changbin think she didn’t like him

however, egged on by chan and jisung, changbin asked juyeon if she wanted to get dinner after practice one day, and he tried hard to show how friendly and warm he is

this plan certainly worked, as juyeon was able to see past the cold exterior and find the soft squishy aegyo on the inside that stays know well

funny enough, the pair found that their personalities were quite compatible once they became comfortable with one another. their temperaments compliment each other well in a opposite kind of way.

while changbin is energetic, outgoing, loud, confident, (leoism) juyeon is soft spoken, shy, and very chilled out at most times. when together, these traits mix, and you can often witness changbin calmer than usual and/or juyeon more excitable than she regularly is

in 2019 miroh era stays noticed a slight difference in their interactions and a dating scandal was endured by the two. however, jyp entertainment commented and denied the allegations, saying that “changbin and juyeon are good friends.”

the denial of the allegations didn’t disprove the theory though. stays consistently have watched their interactions since this point and have grown to believe that they are secretly dating or at the very least have some feelings toward each other. around 70% of stays who believe this don’t mind and support their happiness, while the remaining amount of stays have a known history of not liking juyeon.

typically seen together at most times, both on camera and off camera

bin is always trying to impress juyeon and juyeon is always impressed. it’s a never ending cycle.

han jisung + kang juyeon ♡ yeonsung

ship popularity: 3/8

juyeon was really impressed by jisung when she first met him as he was only 16 at the time and was skilled in dancing, rapping, and singing

she really loved the tone of his voice and the versatility he was able to achieve, which she has always been a little envious about

however, baby jisung, who happened to be more scampish prior to debut, did not like juyeon! upon first meeting he found her soft spoken nature fake and was annoyed by her “over the top” aegyo. he felt that she was putting on an act and didn’t appreciate her dishonesty.

for a while after their initial meeting, jisung was pretty short with her and it was quite obvious he didn’t enjoy her presence. she noticed this and instead of backing off like she may have if it was changbin, juyeon used every opportunity she could to butter him up

it took a couple weeks - and a few rejections of her invitation to hang out - but juyeon finally took a step outside her comfort zone and told jisung that 1) she really liked his voice and made a beat for him based off of this, and 2) she feels that they got off on the wrong foot and would like a chance to try again

this interaction and her authenticity really touched jisung, and it was then that he realized how judge mental he was being. while she was soft spoken and radiated a naturally cute vibe, it wasn’t an act for attention from boys or a mask put on to conceal her real personality. she was really the way she presented herself. and she was good at what she did, too.

as we can see now, jisung and juyeon’s friendship significantly improved and are now very close friends.

jisung now looks up to juyeon as a role model for communication

she was also the one to scold him and hyunjin for beefing lol

besties now!

if chan ever needs a duo to create chaos and misfortune for the day, this is his go to pair.

[heartbreakincident]

OC Speech Mannerisms

tagged by @ladyshivs

this one looks like a blast. I'll answer for Eden, since an FHR mutual tagged me. @crossdressingdeath @idlenight @spellmage and @goldencruel, you're next. pick whoever you want.

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (i dont have em picked out but i assume he had to learn multiple as part of his training)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: Yes / No (definitely has a like, TV accent, very generic)

DEMEANOUR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (wallflower unapproachable, and if you try anyway he blankly stares until you take the hint)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing (fidgets with his hems) / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance (unless he's into you)

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

EMOTION: ⬤〇〇〇〇

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤〇〇〇 (definitely thinks it more than he says it)

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤〇〇〇〇 (he's catholic, he sticks to the classics)

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy. (bonus! hells. it's his default curse in game.)

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never (when he speaks, he speaks very clearly and loud enough for everyone relevant to hear)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. (if he wants you to get it, you'll get it. but he can be an evasive bastard, too.)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never. (if it's one of His People, yes, sometimes. otherwise, absolutely not.)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't. (people notice that he's very direct and trying to end the conversation asap)

[maymaylyn]

Amara Valko | Gabriel Rorke

FIRST MEET 2014

There was a woman in the creek. Not necessarily out of concern but curiosity, he pulled over his worn-out Chevy. It was a 1972 model, and Elias said he would help him fix it before their next deployment. He was going through Terra Bella and trying to get to San Francisco. Needing to get gas and taking a wrong turn to get to the highway, Gabriel wasn't expecting to see a woman face up in the creek on the outskirts of town. There weren’t any cars parked on the side of the road by this creek, but there was a gravel pull-off. He could care less unless they were his men, but it was hot, and she was a little too still in the clear water. He thought the woman might have been dead or had heat stroke. The drive was boring, and human interaction outside the military was scarce. At least this encounter might be interesting.

Slamming the door to his blood-red, beat-up possession and keeping in mind the knife on his belt he kept with him in combat. He made his way down the ditch to this body. Getting closer, he kept a defensive eye out of habit in his line of work. At the water's edge, he noticed it was roughly 4 feet at its deepest.

Now that he could get a good look at the woman, a thin, light blue dress flowed out around her. Her eyes closed, and her dark hair stood out against her pale skin. She was beautiful. She wasn’t dead, but since he stopped his little road trip, and curiosity got the best of him. Gabriel’s hands were on his hips saying with authoritative caution, “Are you alright, ma’am?”

Being greeted with silence and her eyes still closed, he called out again. This time, he could not help but let his sarcastic attitude shine through. “Are you a corpse?”

A chuckle came from the supposed corpse to let him know he was wrong. She turned on her back in the water before standing as gracefully as she could to face him. How the water ran off her body and splashed around her frame was almost ethereal. Gabriel took a breath and straightened up, seeing the sky-blue dress cling to her. He stared at her, keeping his eyes on her face out of respect; the fabric didn't hide much of her.

A warm breeze went by, and she tilted her head. She moved her hair over her shoulder, taking in his appearance. Cargo pants and a loose t-shirt with sleeves cut off, showing off tanned muscles decorated with scars. One scar, in particular, stood out against the rest. A hook shape is embedded on the left cheek, running up over his eyebrow. The air held a peaceful silence between them. She looked at him as if she recognized him from somewhere, putting an eerie feeling in his chest. If someone recognized him, it typically was never a good thing.

“You’re trespassing,” her sickly-sweet voice echoed in his head as if she were speaking in his mind rather than out loud. A shiver went down his spine, not out of fear; ha, no, this feeling was something heavier. Always being two steps ahead of everyone in resilience and physical strength is why he was The Ghost. The look of recognition from her, when he knew he had never seen this woman before, made him frustratedly confused. Not being one to back down, he spoke up, “I apologize for the trespassing; I thought I was just going to have to pull a body from the creek, darlin,” he forced his lips to turn up slightly. He didn't come here to scare anyone. Especially not-

“Amara.” “What?” “My name? It’s Amara, not Darlin.” Her tone was completely different from the sweet tone she had spoken a moment before. There was a mocking Southern accent when she said Darlin. Alright, so she wasn't just sugar. She had some fire in her blood, trying to threaten him and failing like many before her. Like anyone could make him feel threatened. That made the fake smile he plastered on into an almost sinister smirk—more like a sin if you asked her.

“Well, Amara, now that I know you're not a floating corpse, I’ll quit trespassing,” He took his hands off his hips and, not necessarily wanting to take his eyes off her, took some steps backward before finally turning away. He could feel her eyes on him the entire walk back to his car. It’s not like he didn't know the feeling of a woman’s eyes on him before checking him out, but this wasn't the same. He felt she was trying to break his mind and reveal his secrets. Combat was one of the few things that made him feel that way; it was a nice feeling to have something as divine as her challenge him.

His eyes returned to the creek, hoping to get one last look at her. The water was calm, and ‘Amara’ was not in sight. ‘Vanished like a ghost,’ he thought, how fitting. His joy in finding someone who brought such drive to his blood was gone and a sinking feeling was trying to overwhelm him. As he got back to the highway and headed north to San Francisco, he tucked the location of the smaller town away in his mind.

He had a whole month.

He’d find her again.

[halfagonyandhope]

when the skies catch fire │ch. 32

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Three days later, Obi-Wan waits in the hangar bay. He feels unsteady, due both to his arms supporting Léa’s weight - leaving his cane to lean against supply crates nearby - and the impending arrival of the Ghost from Stewjon. Chewbacca is piloting, and Ahsoka is on board.

Along with the family he hasn’t seen since he was three standard years old.

The immense hangar doors hiss, opening slowly, and humid Dantooine air rushes inside. Warmth from a different direction appears next to him, and Obi-Wan glances over to see Satine. She offers to take Léa, whom she wraps in a scarf to hold against her chest. Obi-Wan gratefully reaches for his cane. Satine shifts, leaning into him slightly, so that he can feel her arm behind his, always supporting him.

The VCX-100 light freighter comes into view and lands as directed by a Phoenix Base technician. Obi-Wan takes a tentative step forward.

The boarding platform descends.

Ahsoka is the first to disembark. Obi-Wan still hasn’t become accustomed to seeing her with her new sabers - they remind him of how much has changed, and, indeed, Ahsoka walks more like a knight than a padawan.

He realizes that she’s passed her trials. First during the aftermath of the Coruscant Temple bombing, then on Mustafar, and then again on Mandalore. Perhaps they weren’t ordinary trials, but his hadn’t been, either. Nor had Anakin’s. Obi-Wan swallows the heavy emotion that threatens to break loose. So much of the galaxy has moved on without his notice.

As though she’s following his thoughts, Satine places her hand on his shoulder and steps to him. Then they approach the freighter together.

Ahsoka has stepped to the side, head tilted slightly as she speaks with Bo-Katan, who had also appeared to greet the ship. There’s the sound of footsteps echoing from inside the freighter, and then three people appear at the top of the boarding platform.

A tall silver-haired woman, perhaps in her mid-sixties, strides down the ramp. Her cerulean tunic is precisely the same shade as her eyes -

Which are the same shade as Obi-Wan’s.

The Force seems to hum with energy.

Obi-Wan glances behind her, to a man about her same age. His eyes are green, his hair mostly gray but with flecks of blond. He’s shorter than Obi-Wan by perhaps a few centimeters, but Obi-Wan thinks that time is responsible for this because the man’s back curves slightly with age.

He doesn’t have time to examine the third person before his parents are before him. Again, he is lost for words.

“Hello there,” says the man, and Obi-Wan feels more than hears Satine chuckle softly.

This frees him somehow, and he says, “Father.” He meets Soléa’s gaze. “Mother.”

Soléa wraps him in her embrace, one arm around his shoulders, the other cradling his head. “My boy,” she whispers. “Thirty-five standard years, eight months, and twenty-seven days,” she says, pulling back and placing her hands on either side of his face. “But your eyes tell me you lived more than that in the time we’ve been apart.”

She’s not Force-sensitive, Obi-Wan knows, but her ability to see through him is unsettling.

Soléa lets her hands fall to her sides, and Obi-Wan steps to his father. Yewan, his memory supplies. His father’s name is Yewan.

Yewan hugs him with the same emotion as Soléa, though more briefly. “My heart is whole again,” Yewan says gruffly, struggling with the words as he steps back. Their accents hint at rural life, and Obi-Wan feels a slight pang when he realizes at one point he, too, must have spoken like they do, before the posh Coruscanti accent replaced his native one.

Yewan and Soléa step to the side, and the third member of their group steps forward.

He could practically be the twin of the Obi-Wan who’d first arrived on Dantooine, albeit slightly taller but with the same intense eyes and muscular build. His hair is lighter, though, and longer - long enough to be pulled back into a small bun.

“Elzar,” he says, somehow understanding that Obi-Wan hadn’t remembered his name.

“Elzar,” repeats Obi-Wan, and the name feels familiar on his lips. Obi-Wan hugs his younger brother, too, noticing his posture and making a note to ask about his military service later. Wherever he’d served in the past, he doesn’t look like he is actively enlisted - hair grows back quickly after a discharge, but the gait of a soldier remains forever.

When they part, Obi-Wan’s free hand immediately reaches for Satine, who steps forward.

“This is my wife, Satine,” he says. “Satine, this is my mother, my father, and my brother.” He pauses, then repeats their names. “Soléa, Yewan, and Elzar.”

Satine unwraps her scarf slightly so the Kenobi family can see the newborn. “And this is Léa, your granddaughter - and niece,” she says, looking from Yewan and Soléa to Elzar.

Soléa sucks in a breath. “Léa?” she repeats.

Obi-Wan nods at the follow-up question she hadn’t asked. “Yes,” he says.

Soléa wipes at the moisture in her eyes, and then she laughs. “I have so many questions that I hardly know where to begin.”

“The feeling is mutual,” says Obi-Wan, and Soléa grabs him for another embrace.

“My dear, you are too thin,” she says. Obi-Wan laughs, suddenly overcome with the normalcy of it all. 

Is this what it’s like? Having proper parents?

He decides that he wants to find out.

“My wife tells me the same,” says Obi-Wan, his tone light, and Soléa gives Satine a nod of approval. Satine beams. 

Obi-Wan shifts slightly to let his cane take a bit more of his weight, and Satine notices. “Come,” she says, gesturing to his family. “Let us move from the hangar. We will debrief in the conference room where we can speak more comfortably.”

She’s trying to get Obi-Wan off his feet, to get him to rest. She hasn’t touched him, but warmth spreads through his body.

He feels love and hope and gratitude, all mixed together and yet the same emotion. Satine catches his eye and nods her understanding.

She feels it, too.

---

Ahsoka stands in the middle of the conference room, just to the side of a holoprojection of Stewjon. She wears the Mandalorian blues given to her by Bo-Katan, her sabers at her hips. It’s still jarring, Obi-Wan realizes, this mix of Mandalorian and Jedi culture. He’d never thought he’d see it in his lifetime. He’d never dared hope to see it in his lifetime.

He looks down at his left hand, gaze caught by the light glancing off his beskar ring.

“We don’t have much intel on the attack,” says Bo-Katan, striding into the room and dimming the lights. “Chatter has been near-silent, but we think that’s because the attack speaks for itself.”

Ahsoka waves a hand and the holoprojection enlarges, focusing on the largest continent’s major mountain range. “Luxora, a relatively small city-town, was completely flattened. Luxora isn’t Stewjon’s capital. It’s not a center for trade; it’s not involved in any significant efforts to produce weaponry or resources that threaten the Empire. As far as we know, it was chosen because it was the birthplace of Master Kenobi.”

Léa squirms and begins to cry softly. Padmé, who has joined them, offers to hold her. “I’ll get her a bottle,” she whispers, taking the baby, and disappears.

Obi-Wan leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on one hand. He’d momentarily forgotten about his lack of beard, and his fingertips feel strange against the bare skin of his mandible.

“How many dead?” he asks lowly.

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. “Reports indicate most of the town’s 60,000 inhabitants perished.” She glances at Yewan and Soléa. “The Kenobis appeared to have survived because they took an unplanned trip to see Elzar, who is based in the capital.”

“We’ll need to put out words of their deaths,” says Obi-Wan immediately. He looks over at his family. “You’ll be safer if the Empire thinks you are dead,” he explains, an apology wrapping around each letter. “Your last name now makes you a target. If you return to Stewjon, the Empire will know, and you’ll be living on borrowed time.”

Soléa reaches over to put her hand atop her husband’s. She nods, her face pale but steely.

Obi-Wan looks between the three of them. “Did you have additional family in Luxora?” He leans back, wiping his sweating hands on his thighs.

Elzar shakes his head. “Grandparents died long ago, and I have no uncles or aunts.”

Obi-Wan addresses Elzar. “Did you have a partner in the capital? Children? Anyone who needs to be extracted?”

His brother seems to hesitate before picking his words. “No,” Elzar says finally. “My husband was killed years ago in the Clone Wars. We never had children.”

Obi-Wan’s heart falls.

Satine’s hand finds his under the table and squeezes. She doesn’t let go.

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan manages to say around the secondhand grief. He takes an unsteady breath.

Elzar nods sharply.

Satine leans forward, taking the weight of the conversation off the brothers. “You still stay here, for now,” she says. “We are self-sustaining, and we can assign each of you living quarters. If you wish, we can work on finding you refuge on a planet away from where we anticipate fighting between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance to take place. We can build you new lives.”

Soléa and Yewan look at each other, but Elzar speaks up first. “I’d like to stay,” he says. “If you’ll have me. I was a professor in military history before fighting in the Clone Wars. That’s where I met my husband - we were both pilots.” 

“We’re perpetually short on pilots,” Bo-Katan murmurs from across the room, but Satine hushes her, saying, “Even if you did not wish to fight, you would be welcome to remain.”

“Then it’s settled,” says Yewan, and Soléa nods. “We will stay.”

Obi-Wan’s grip on Satine’s hand tightens on instinct, and Satine brushes her thumb against his.

And there it is again suddenly - Obi-Wan doesn’t look for it, doesn’t reach out, but the Force seems to echo around him, a tune he’s not familiar with. The feeling, however…that he does know, and he breathes in its familiarity.

Satine glances at him, curious, and he realizes she must have felt whatever had just happened to him.

He laces their fingers together.

---

Later that evening, Satine commandeers use of the conference room with Ahsoka and Bo-Katan to start a call with two other rebel cells.

Before, she’d pulled him to the side. “Go with your family,” she’d told him gently. “I will brief you later.”

“Is there not something I can do?” Obi-Wan had asked.

Satine had rocked forward onto her toes to give him a soft kiss. “Yes,” she’d said against his lips. “Rest.” She’d pulled back. “You have gone to hells and back in service to this galaxy. Let the rest of us carry that burden for a little while. Go.” And she emphasized the final word with a slight push in the direction of his parents.

So Obi-Wan finds himself offering to show his parents the agricultural fields while Elzar remains with the command group, hoping he’d have some insight regarding local proceedings on Stewjon that would be of use.

Obi-Wan, Soléa, and Yewan trek to the fields through lavender grasses, passing some of the ag workers like Walker and Odessa on their way. Obi-Wan walks slowly so that he doesn’t misstep. He’s not at all sure how to begin conversation, but this doesn’t seem to bother Soléa, who falls into step beside him.

“Is your wife the Satine of Mandalore? The Duchess?” she asks immediately, and it’s clear she’s had the question on her tongue since the moment they’d been introduced in the hangar.

“I take it she’s known on Stewjon, then?” says Obi-Wan, amused.

“Very,” says Yewan from Obi-Wan’s other side. “Half the planet wanted to join the Council of Neutral Systems.”

“Just less than half,” corrects Soléa. “The referendum failed, and we remained in the Republic, as I’m sure you know.”

Obi-Wan nods. “I followed the referendum, but I didn’t realize the results were that close,” he admits. “Which did you vote for?”

Soléa smirks. “Our votes were split. I voted to join, and your father here voted to stay. So we canceled each other out.”

Yewan adds, “Seems not unlike the views you and your wife hold.”

They’ve reached the ag fields, and Obi-Wan rests against one of the large boulders that had been moved out of the fertile soil. He’s not quick enough to hide the way he winces, though, and his parents share a look.

Obi-Wan sighs, knowing he’ll need to tell them sooner or later. And if he tells them sooner, he won’t have to worry about their reactions any longer. “How much did Ahsoka tell you about my…condition?”

Soléa sits next to him. “She said you were gravely injured on a mission and in the process of healing. And that you probably didn’t want to be asked about it.”

Obi-Wan laughs. “Ahsoka is very wise, and that is due to no influence of my own.” He waits for his father to sit on his other side before continuing. “The mission Ahsoka mentioned was successful, with the rather large exception being that I got myself captured. I was held captive on Mandalore for many months, and I missed the birth of my daughter. But however long I was there, I’m beginning to understand that healing will take longer.”

Eager to move on, Obi-Wan searches for something else - anything else - to say. 

“Ahsoka is…was…” he hesitates, not sure if the present tense applies here or not. He decides eventually it does. “Ahsoka is my grandpadawan. That means the boy I taught as an apprentice grew up to train her. And she is better than either of us.”

“You’re a teacher?” asks Soléa.

“From a certain point of view,” concedes Obi-Wan. “My effectiveness at said teaching is…well, let us just say I don’t have the best track record.”

That was putting it mildly, but Obi-Wan wasn’t about to give further details to people who were, for all intents and purposes, relative strangers to him - even if more emphasis was on the relative than strangers.

“In fairness, teaching isn’t for everyone,” says Yewan. “I was rubbish at it, for example. Now, your mother, on the other hand…”

Obi-Wan meets Soléa’s eyes. “You were a teacher? On Stewjon?”

She nods. “Mostly music, but a little bit of everything as it was needed. You know,” she says, “the story from my side of the family was that we descended from a woman who could hear each living thing’s song. Somewhere in our line there was a professional opera singer, too.”

She stands and steps toward the field, where wheat is thriving. Then she kneels and grabs a handful of soil. She brings it to Yewan.

“It’s good soil, Yewan,” Soléa says, and he reaches out as she drops it in his fingers.

Yewan glances at Obi-Wan’s raised eyebrow. “We had a small farm, enough to grow what we needed to get by.” He lets the dirt fall to the ground and brushes off his hands.

“Your father is being modest,” says Soléa. “We had everything we needed and more. He grew various types of starflowers because he knew I liked them.” She smiles. “I wish you could see - could have seen,” she says, correcting herself. “I imagine the fields are gone now. But before the attack, the starflowers were a couple heads taller than you, perhaps. And growing season hadn’t finished yet.”

Obi-Wan, too, wishes he could have seen the fields.

“When I was thirteen, I left the Jedi,” Obi-Wan blurts out before he realizes what he’s saying. “I joined AgriCorps.”

His father looks delighted. “I’d love to hear more about it,” he says. “Though I take it your time there was short?”

Obi-Wan nods. “I ended up returning to the Jedi after a very brief stint with the Corps. If you have a green thumb, I certainly did not inherit it.”

Soléa’s laugh sounds like music, Yewan’s chuckle the harmony.

An idea occurs to Obi-Wan.

“Do you think you could grow lilies here?” he asks his father. 

“My boy, give me a challenge,” Yewan says. “No wonder AgriCorps didn’t fight for you to stay.”

Obi-Wan has to laugh at this, but Soléa eyes him seriously. “Lilies are symbolic to Mandalorians, I assume?”

Obi-Wan nods stiffly. “Satine used to wear them in her hair all the time. It’s been over a standard year since she’s had access to any.”

Soléa rests her hand on Yewan’s shoulder as he promises, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Obi-Wan nods his thanks.

Soléa steps toward Obi-Wan and then kneels in front of him. Slowly, cautiously, she wraps her hands around his. 

“Whatever you’ve lost to get here, Obi-Wan,” she says, “I’m so grateful you still have your strong heart.”

Obi-Wan looks into eyes that mirror his own. “I think I lost that, too, for a while,” he says, not quite able to stop the way his voice shakes at the beginning.

He looks at his father, and then back at the Temple.

Back to Satine. To Léa. To Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan’s voice is steady. “But I think I’m close to finding it again.”