#visit Lyon with family
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Batfamily x male!reader
So, this is the last part in the Court of Owls reader. PART 1, PART 2 and PART 3
Summary: (Y/N) can't stand being in the manor anymore. So he plots his escape, but he never expects the help from one of the residents.
Warnings: escape, (Y/N) being done with the family, talks about bad mental health, this is so rushed I'm sorry, I wanted to just write it.
(Y/N) didn't know what to do any more. He was still in that cell and the boys were trying even harder. He doesn't remember when he was in this bad place. Where he doesn't have any motivation or just any passion.
He never wanted to be in that place.
He was once in that place once before. He just disappeared from Bruce's and Talia's lives and he was lost. He was young, his parents being complete opposites and he was at the crossroad. Who does he follow? His father, the hero that everyone loves and does good? Or his mother who is one of the best assassins in the world?
He shook his head. No.
He made his choice from the moment he disappeared. He was going to be what he wants to be. He won't listen to either of them. He will be his own person.
But now?
He felt trapped in a psychological sense. He knows he will never conform to Bruce's and Talia's wishes. No matter how hard they tried. When did he fell like he had no way out? When did he feel like his mental health was decaying? Even before the so called crossroad?
Before he met Harvey and the others, it wasn't good. But after meeting them, he felt better. They didn't judge him for he did and Harley gave him that help he needed. According to her, the Court was just a vent to let out that anger.
That made a lot of sense.
But from time to time, he did wonder about his life with Bruce. What would be his codename? Would he be another Robin? Or would he wear the bat symbol?
It has been a couple more weeks. (Y/N) wasn't giving up, however, he was allowed a bit of freedom. Every 2 or 3 days one of them would walk him out to the garden. Damian was the one who volunteered the most.
He also took notice of shifts in the cave. They never really left him alone, there was always someone there.
He sighed as he read one of his books. How was he going to escape?
" Master (Y/N)? "
(Y/N) lifted his head at the familiar voice. Alfred... (Y/N) liked Alfred. He didn't push (Y/N) like others. His only concern was that (Y/N) ate and drank enough.
" Hey Alfred. "
" How are you doing today? " The older man asked, stopping in front of the door.
" Okay. "
Despite the fact that (Y/N) liked Alfred, he doesn't give him anything he could use against Bruce. Nothing. You can never know.
" Well, that's good. You will have about 2 hours from the moment I let you out. "
(Y/N) turned his head, frowning at the British man. What the hell? What does that mean?
" What? "
" You have around 100,000 dollars here. Also, there is a ticket booked. I heard you know French, so there is a ticket for Lyon. A friend of mine will wait for you and drop you off at your new apartment. There will be a document from the bank with your bank account. It will enough for a year or so. "
(Y/N)'s mouth dropped to the floor. Holy shit. What the hell?
" I suggest you say your goodbyes to your friends here in Gotham. "
(Y/N) stood up, quickly hugging the man. He can do this.
" Thank you. " (Y/N) whispered, letting some tears fall out.
Alfred just patted his back.
(Y/N) quickly visited Two Face and Harley. All the visits ended in tears and sobs. (Y/N) had to say goodbye to the only good father figure and a good friend.
Pamela wasn't able to say goodbye. She was far too broken to do that.
(Y/N) sighed as he dropped the bag on the floor of his apartment. It was a simple place, with necessities. He was happy to have a TV. He took a quick glance at the envelope on the dark table.
He was going to take a look at it later. Right now, he was going to enjoy his new life. He smiled for the second time in a long while.
Now he was free.
#dc x male reader#dc comics#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#x male reader#damian x male reader#batkids
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Shirt Swap - part 2 (ella toone x reader)
Summary: Your long distance relationship with Ella faces its biggest test yet as one of you has to crush the other’s Champions League dreams.
Read part 1 here.
———
Your return to Manchester is a strange one. You’ve been back several times since your transfer last summer, most recently to spend Christmas with Ella and her family, but every other visit has been for leisure.
This time, you step off the plane into the bleak Manchester drizzle surrounded by your Lyon teammates and know you’re here to get a job done.
It doesn’t stop you from having a little bit of leisure time though. You drop your things off at the hotel and then the whole team gets on a bus to Old Trafford for the final training session before the match tomorrow, but after that you have the evening free to spend how you wish. Most of your teammates are going out to explore Manchester, some of them even ask you if you’ll show them around your old home, but you have to decline. You have more important things to do.
You meet Ella at your favourite restaurant in Manchester, the same place you had your first date over two years ago, and your face breaks open into a huge smile when you see Ella already sitting at a table near the bar, out of her usual trackies and glammed up for your date.
“You look gorgeous,” you say, leaning down to kiss Ella before sitting down opposite her.
“So do you,” she says, eyeing you up and down. “Wow, babe. Remind me why we decided to go for dinner and not just skip to the fun stuff?”
“Because…” you roll your eyes at Ella, though a tiny part of your brain agrees, especially after seeing her in that dress, “it’s been ages since we went on a proper date. I miss hanging out with you.”
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you’d stayed at United,” Ella teases you.
“Yeah, but then neither of us would win the Champions League this year,” you grin back.
“Oi!” Ella complains, with a pout that is just too cute.
“Sorry, let’s make a deal,” you say, as you reach for the menu. “No more football talk. I want to hear about what’s been going on with you.”
“Deal.”
———
The no football talk rule lasts about five minutes, because both of your lives are so heavily wrapped up in football that it comes up inevitably, but there’s an unspoken agreement to not mention the game last week or the second leg coming up tomorrow. Instead you talk about your teammates, funny stories from training, and everything except the fact that one of you is going to crush the other’s dream tomorrow.
It’s nice to spend time with Ella like old times, but you appreciate it more, knowing that moments like this are rare. You stay even after you’ve finished eating, talking about everything while playing footsie under the table like giddy teenagers on a first date.
“So, can I convince you to come home with me?” Ella asks, swinging your joined hands between you as you finally walk away from the restaurant.
Home. You live in Lyon but Manchester, and specifically the flat you used to share with Ella, still feels like your home. Wherever Ella is will always be where your heart really is.
“We have a curfew,” you grimace apologetically. “I’m supposed to be back at the team hotel soon. Big game tomorrow, and all that.”
Ella is disappointed, but you know she understands and would do the same if the situations were reversed.
“But I’ve already spoken to the coach and she’s happy for me to fly back a day later than the rest of the team,” you explain. “The day after tomorrow I’m all yours and I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on leaving your bed for anything less than an emergency.”
“You’re a real charmer,” says Ella, pulling you closer to her by your joined hands and tilting her head to give you a slow and sweet kiss. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Not if I see you first,” you grin against Ella’s mouth, giving her one final kiss before you reluctantly pull apart.
———
The coach starts you on the bench. You’re frustrated by the decision, you always are when you’re not starting and this one especially stings, but you know the game plan and that you’ll get your chance to come on in the second half, so you obediently don your bib and find a seat amongst the other substitutes to watch the match.
It’s always hard to watch from the bench, knowing that the game is out of your control, but you get to take in the game as a whole much better than you would be able to from the pitch. Unlike the United team that seemed full of nerves last week, this United seem to be thriving off the twenty thousand home fans that have shown up on a cold weeknight to cheer on their team. Though Lyon have a two goal advantage from the first leg, United seem determined to overcome that and you bounce your knee nervously as you watch helplessly from the dugout.
You watch Ella in particular. You know this is her favourite place, that she more than most will be fuelled by this atmosphere and while you’re off the pitch, not directly playing against her, you can really appreciate how good she is.
She shows the entire stadium how good she is twenty-five minutes into the game, when she catches the ball on the break, drives it through the high line of Lyon’s defence, and sends it soaring into the top corner from outside the box.
It’s one of the best goals you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing live and for Ella, you’re delighted that she’s scored such an incredible goal in an iconic stadium in the biggest competition in club football. But for yourself and your team, you wish she could have scored that goal against anybody else.
The game is a lot tenser now that the aggregate goal difference is down to just one. All it takes is another goal, another moment of magic, and United will be back level with the momentum and the fans in their favour. You wish more than ever before that you could be on the pitch to help your team, barely able to watch helplessly from the sidelines.
Unfortunately for Lyon, Ella is having the game of her life. You’re warming up on the side of the pitch during the second half, ready to go on in a few minutes when you see Ella hit the ball cleanly over the line of defenders and Leah Galton is too fast for all of them, running onto the ball and tapping it past the keeper for United’s second of the night.
It’s not supposed to be going like this. You knew tonight wouldn’t be a walkover but in all your preparation for the game, Lyon didn’t account for the Old Trafford atmosphere lighting a fire in the hearts of each and every Manchester United player on the pitch.
Now more than ever, you need to get on the pitch to make your mark. The coach understands this too because as the game restarts, she beckons you over and starts talking you through the change in tactics needed to overcome this little blip as you take off your tracksuit and slide your shin pads into your socks.
When the substitution finally takes place and you jog onto the pitch, you’re met with boos from the United fans who aren’t happy to see you back on their turf in different colours to before. It’s not unexpected, but you know that you have to channel it to the right place, letting it fuel your desire to win instead of being a distraction.
With eighty minutes on the clock, you get the ball out on the wing not too far from the corner of the box. In a split second you evaluate the positions of the opposing United players and weigh up your options.
You’d probably win a footrace down the line. The defender has been on the pitch for eighty minutes, your fresh legs have only done ten. If you can make it past them, you could cross the ball in from the wing and hope it finds one of your teammates in the box.
The defender is expecting you to do that, you can tell from her body position. So you feint as if going to make that move, then duck back when the defender moves and cut in behind, propelling yourself and the ball into empty space in the box.
But then there’s a hand on your back, you stumble over the ball and slide belly first across the grass.
The shrill tone of the referee’s whistle is immediately drowned out by the boos of the crowd as you’re helped to your feet by one of your teammates.
With less than ten minutes to go, you’ve just won your team a penalty.
The United players aren’t happy, of course they’re not. As you brush the grass off your shorts, you see a ring of red around the referee as they complain, the players only backing off when the ref shows two yellow cards, one to the defender who pushed you, and one to another player for dissent.
You assume that Wendie will take the penalty - she’s the captain, the first choice for penalties, and currently holding the ball, but she instead places the ball into your hands, maybe sensing the significance of your return to your old club.
“You won it, it’s yours,” she tells you. “Don’t miss.”
You ignore the watchful gaze of all your old teammates as you walk up to the spot and carefully place the ball on the grass. The jeers of the Manchester United fans, who are always willing to make a lot of noise but especially eager to boo one of their former players, almost drowns out the referee as she gives you the usual pre-penalty instructions. You line yourself up, take a few steps backwards, and let out a huge exhalation as you finally look up, where Mary is jumping up and down between the goalposts and waving her arms around in an attempt to distract you.
The situation is so familiar. You remember training sessions before cup matches with United where Marc would have each of you take penalty after penalty, just in case. You’ve scored past Mary before. Why should twenty thousands jeering spectators change that.
You run up to the ball and take your shot.
Mary dives the way you expect her to. And you slot the ball into the opposite corner.
You let out all your emotions in a yell that will probably leave you with a sore throat tomorrow, punching the air as your teammates run over to you and jump on you in celebration.
Less than ten minutes to go and you might just have scored the winning goal.
The momentum has shifted. You were energised before, but the goal has livened up some of your teammates who were starting to flag too. The United fans boo every time you get the ball, maybe not realising that the sound just spurs you on and makes you want to win even more.
The only potential obstacle is Ella, but you force yourself to stay free of that distraction. For these last few minutes, she’s just another player. The one thing that does unite you is your passion. Ella is exactly the same in that respect, she lets every emotion show on the football pitch.
You’re sure she must be shattered - everybody else who has been playing since the beginning of the match is visibly tiring but she commits to everything like it’s still the first ten minutes instead of the last. As the seconds dwindle, you get increasingly anxious that Ella is going to pull another miracle shot out of nowhere to take the game to extra time. All you can do is put your head down and work just as hard.
After what feels like an eternity, the final whistle blows and Lyon are through, thanks to your penalty. Your teammates want to celebrate with you but your first thought is of Ella, and once you’ve escaped the bundle of bodies that surround you, you look for your girlfriend.
Your eyes find her straight away, lying on her back on the grass with her knees bent and one of her arms across her eyes. She looks exhausted, having given it her all for ninety minutes with no final reward, and you don’t know what you can say or do to make this any easier on her.
Reaching the quarter finals in their first year in the competition is an achievement. More than that, beating a team with Lyon’s track record tonight, even if the aggregate score goes against them, is something they should be extremely proud of. But you can’t say any of that to Ella without is coming across as patronising.
“Ella?”
She lifts the arm from across her face and sits up when she realises it’s you. Ella isn’t crying, but her eyes are glassy and her jaw is clenched from the effort of trying not to. You squat down beside her on the grass.
“I’m sorry,” you say to Ella, wrapping your arms around her neck as she buries her face into your shoulder.
“Don’t apologise,” Ella replies. “We knew this would happen to one of us. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Just promise me one thing,” says Ella, pulling back from the embrace to look directly at you.
“Anything.”
She smiles through her own pain, and says, “Go and win the whole damn thing.”
You grin back at her, overwhelmed with affection for the girl who is still your number one supporter, even in a moment of such personal difficulty.
“I’ll try.”
———
When you manage to keep your promise and go on to win the Champions League a couple of months later, your first title and Lyon’s ninth, Ella’s face is the only one out of the fifty thousand fans in the stadium that matters. You look for her when the final whistle blows and she’s crying with happiness, which sets your own tears off right as you get bundled into a pile of bodies on the turf as your teammates all celebrate.
The photo of you and Ella kissing over the advertising board, Champions League medal hanging around your neck, goes viral on social media the next day.
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Lyons and Tigers and Bears (and Gator too) Oh My!
So I've been a Fargo viewer since S2 and have followed each season relatively closely (except most of S4). Noah Hawley is a sucker for hidden messages and meanings, as well as using symbolism derived from inspiration, such as - as shown in S4 - Alice in Wonderland. Hawley symbolically uses Alice in Wonderland in S5 as much as S4, but with a heavier focus on the dangers - "Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!" Here is an analysis of how some character behaviors entwine with their representative animal's instinct.
SPOILS BEWARE AHEAD
CASE STUDY #1 - WOMEN REPRESENTING LIONESSES
Everyone should know that a group of lions is called a pride. Within a pride, there are multiple lionesses, and one or two male lions which usually have a monopoly on these lionesses. The male lions exploit these lionesses as multiple mates and depend on them for food typically. Mating aspects aside, the group of lionesses are the ones who hunt prey for the pride. Male lions can also hunt for themselves, but I digress with the following statement: when the lionesses are successful in the hunt, they have to eat their share quickly before the male lions come and take the rest of the meat. The male lions have the purpose of protecting the pride from other hostile, wandering male lions, so they're not completely useless.
But that's not the point of this post.
Lorriane Lyons and Indira Olmstead, in my humble opinion, show two sides of a lioness. Their husbands, respectively, represent the male lions and their exploitation of the women's work.
Lorraine Lyons represents the strength, determination, and intelligence of a lioness. I mean, come on! Lyons = lions. Did I just blow your mind with that connection?
Lorraine Lyons has a husband, Mr Lyons. As far as I remember, we don't see him until episode 6 when he's visiting his son, Wayne, at the hospital. Did we even need to know Mr Lyons existed? In my humble opinion: No.
(Tinfoil hat: I thought Danish Graves and Lorraine had something going on, and Graves was Wayne's dad. Secret love affair or whatever.)
Mr Lyons serves no purpose than emphasizing just how much Lorraine works for her, and his, "food." She runs a multi-billion company as a debt collector (or whatever the professional term is). She looks flawless. She has zero time for bullshit. Can't you see she's busy? If it weren't for her, her husband wouldn't have his train collection we later see in the same episode (6). Although she acts like her family is a burden to her, we see in some moments of her immense love for her son: such as her over protectiveness of him and coldness towards the outsider Dorothy, and her love towards her granddaughter, Scotty. Again, in episode 6, we see a brief moment of her smiling when Scotty hugs her father, until she puts back on the facade of HBIC when she speaks with Olmstead. So far, we don't see how she interacts with her husband, which can stand for as its own evidence. Lorraine's scenes with her family and professional life show that they wouldn't be who they are today without her (wo)man power. Another interesting thing to note about Lorraine and her behavior as a lioness is how, even though she doesn't like Dorothy, she still considers her as part of the pride as she's the mother of her granddaughter and her son loves Dorothy. As the idea goes, you're as strong as the weakest link, and Lorraine knows she's better off protected with Dorothy on her side than trying to get rid of her, especially as the season goes on.
(Note: Lorraine had Dorothy committed. Okay, I get that. She still hates Dorothy and wants her gone. However, Lorraine plays the sibling game in that she can bash and ruin Dorothy all she wants - as long as SHE IS THE ONLY ONE DOING IT. When Roy Tillman came around sniffing for Dorothy, she refused to even entertain his wild ideas about responsibility and freedom, and even admitted to keeping Dorothy close because of her being the mother of her grandchild and the wife of her son. She kicked Roy Tillman's ass to the curb with a, "I don't like her, but she's a Lyon now, and you're a dipshit with a 'dead' wife." Rant over.)
Another side note: Regarding Wayne, Lorraine only helps him out in extreme cases of emergency. When he suffers the head injury from electric shock, she makes sure he has the best care and best hospital room. Anything outside of emergencies, he's on his own. While he's not the strong lion we typically picture, Wayne is a lion in his own right. Male lions typically leave the pride when they come of mating age and join another pride of unrelated kin females. Here, Wayne made his own pride with Dorothy and, later, Scotty. By the way, lion prides usually consist of mother-daughter kinship, with a few outsider females and one or two male lions. Wayne still has a long way to go, but we do see him protect Dorothy and Scotty in his own way, such lying for her to the police about her kidnapping, helping her against Gator and his accomplices, etc.
Moving onto Indira Olmstead, she represents the other side of a lioness, which is the exploitation. I won't be nice: her husband is the biggest piece of shit. Even though it would be assault, I wanted her to throw her scalding hot coffee in his fucking face when he went on a tirade about wanting a real wife. Well guess what, fuck face? She wants a real husband. Either go get a job or suck your wife's dick in appreciation. Ya know?
Her piece of shit husband wastes what little money they have on worthless dreams that don't go anywhere. At one point, he wanted to be a famous drummer. Now he wants to make it big at pro golf. He sucks ass. Hard. But that would be a compliment to him. The biggest point of his exploitation is complaining about how Olmstead isn't a wife while eating the food she puts on the table with her income. He doesn't help hunt aka get a job. He doesn't support her. I have a feeling that if Olmstead gets into trouble where her physical being is at risk, he'd run away! Fuck him! Also, he's no doubt cheating on her. Hope he dies. Or gets his dick cut off. One of the two.
CASE STUDY #2 - DOROTHY AS A TIGER
Dorothy Lyons may have taken on her second husband's surname, but she is far from a lion. Several times throughout the season, Munch, and even the narrator in a special episode, calls her as a tiger; in the episode with the narrator, she describes her behavior as the behavior of a tiger. And she is a tiger.
Unlike lions, tigers are not social cats. They are solitary except with mother-cub relationships up to a certain point. We have seen how exceptional Dorothy is at defending herself, especially when she is alone. A pride needs a male lion or two to protect the pride from hostile male lion outsiders. A tiger doesn't have the protection of a pride or pack against the forces of other hostile animals of the same or different species. Dorothy fought off two kidnappers, effectively killing one and wounding the other. She fucks up Gator's accomplices on Halloween through a series of traps and tricks. Later on, she puts up a good fight against the male nurses ready to take her away to the hospital. She outsmarts the FBI detectives. She continually outsmarts Roy Tillman and Gator.
While Dorothy, in her own way, loves her husband, I believe she used him and his family's wealth as a cover at the beginning of their relationship, but only for that extra layer of protection. Later on, she probably developed feelings similar to that of a non-sexual relationship, relying on him as a closely dear friend whom she can trust to protect her and especially their daughter when she isn't around. Anyway, she is cautious because she knows she can only rely on a select handful of people - if that. She goes at life like it's her vs the world, and rightfully so considering Roy's abuse of her during their marriage. Telling of this is how she springs into action when the PTA (?) meeting in E1 descends into chaos and she pulls out a taser on an unsuspecting cop.
CASE STUDY #3 - OLE MUNCH AS A BEAR
I love this character so much, and it's such a shame that everyone is (rightfully so) thirsting over Gator. We get it: pathetic boy with daddy issues and a middle schooler boy personality is cute and all, but when will people wake up and take on the may-be-may-not-be a sin eater from 1522, who is nice to old women, a killer of idiots, and how takes his jobs deadly seriously?
(Don't get me wrong, I like Gator as much as the next person, but everyone is sleeping on the King of the season imo.)
Anyway, I propose that Ole Munch represents a bear. Bears are the king of the forest. They can eat mostly everything, from nuts and berries to full on meat. They hibernate for some months out of the entire year. They can fuck up a full sized moose.
Munch's backstory revolves around starvation: starving so much that eating a deceased's sins is nothing compared to a few gold coins, a loaf of bread, and a goblet of wine - if we take that 1522 flashback as truth, or some part of the truth. Munch can also fuck someone's shit up: exhibit a): the two ranch hands ready to kill him at the Tillman's ranch and breaking Gator's arm; exhibit b): Gator's partner; exhibit c): the old woman's loser son in the latest episode.
When I think of a bear, I think of a creature motivated by food and a lot of it, especially male bears. Bears are one of the higher mammals on the food chain; the only danger to a bear is another bear - or maybe a big cat. Bears wander the forest in search of food, food, food. Unless they have to assert their dominance with another bear in the area, they don't have to worry about costly fights. (If you can stomach it, watch a YouTube video of bears fighting. It's crazy.)
In Munch's early scenes, we see him motivated primarily by money, or in essence, the means to buy food. He only goes out of his way to kidnap Dorothy because Roy Tillman promises him payment, and tries to re-kidnap her by any means, even when she has the upper-hand at the gas station. When he doesn't get paid by Roy, he then sets his sights on fucking with Roy and Gator.
Silent and deadly, but don't fuck with this guy - or shall I say, don't poke the bear. Nothing with Munch is nothing personal. I'd go as far to say him messing with Roy and Gator aren't for personal reasons. Gator keeps insulting Munch right to his face, but he doesn't react at all to it. He only reacts when he doesn't get his payment. Hell, I have a feeling that if Roy tried to kill him after paying him, Munch might not have reacted then, either. He probably would have gotten the hell out of Dodge in search of another job. It's just not worth it when a man's (or bear's) livelihood is at stake as long as food is readily available somewhere else.
Also, Munch always wear brown clothes. The latest is the fur-line neck of a brown coat he took from the old woman. Make of it what you will.
Further, I consider Munch a bear because he "hibernates" like one. When he isn't out causing chaos for Roy and Gator Tillman, he goes back to his place of shelter (aka the old woman's house)and rests there with a cigarette. I don't bother to do the math, but I bet you that half of Munch's time on screen focuses on his "hibernation" at this dark, cave-like home.
RANDOM THOUGHT ON GATOR
Is it just me, but why would Roy name his son Gator? So far, no one calls him by any other name but Gator, so we have to assume Gator is his legal name. Which, imo, is a stupid name.
(Do you think his dad named him after Gatorade? lol)
However, looking deeper, we have menacing characters taking on animal representatives: Lorraine and Indira as lionesses, Dorothy as a tiger, Munch possibly as a bear. Where does (a) Gator in snowy Fargo (or wherever the fuck) fit?
That's the thing: he doesn't fit.
Alligators, as said by the National Zoo website (googled) live in freshwater, slow-moving rivers, and also in swamps, marshes and lakes. Aka, Florida, North Carolina, and Texas. Fargo is the exact opposite of that description: cold, cold, snowy, and cold.
Therefore, Gator Tillman is metaphorically a "fish" out of water. He doesn't belong in this strange environment his father inhabits. He doesn't belong to Roy's idea of what a man should be. Gator doesn't know how to be himself, but he needs to survive and adapt because he's seen what happens when someone doesn't, so he tries to take on the personality of his father - but with heavy failures and setbacks. He isn't built to be like Roy. That's why, in my humble opinion, Gator has that strange name. It's showing how much he, a "Gator", doesn't fit the environment his father created. In the latest episode, Dorothy even mentions this. She says she still sees good in him, but he still wants to be Roy. This implies that a person cannot be Roy and still have goodness in them. The two shalt never intertwine. I'm pretty sure Gator's bio on the Fargo website says something similar to him wanting to become his father, but it never working out in his favor. He wants to be a "winner" or the fittest in survival. But he is struggling hard, and his father is quickly losing patience with him.
Rant over.
Note: Other than the Fargo tv series + movie, as well as some Reddit/Tumblr media consumption, I do not know anything about Noah Hawley or his writing style, inspiration, etc. Also, I did not do much, if any, research on the animals studied here. Everything comes from minimal knowledge. This is purely an opinion.
PS: It's come to my attention that Lyon is not spelled Lyons with an 's' at the end, but simply Lyon. I'm too lazy to fix this issue. Sorry. Also, sorry if there's any incoherent sentences and/or grammar issues. I needed to get this out of my system.
I would also like to say that a lot of my information, ideas, and opinions come from TV Tropes (website) where they have a lot of insightful facts about characters and their personalities, among other things. I suggest checking them out!
#fargo fx#fargo season 5#fargo s5#Dorothy Lyon#lorraine lyon#indira olmstead#ole munch#fargo spoilers#roy tillman#gator tillman
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i just realised that olivia can choose between three countries to play for
i assume she would play for england for grace but france is a possibility since she grew up there, sadly i can’t imagine her playing for spain
Olivia absolutely does not play for Spain. It's not even a thought in her mind even though she's eligible through Bambi.
The family stays based in France even after Grace retires but they move from Lyon to Paris so Bambi can properly join the Paris Opera Ballet.
So the family stays in France with trips back to England to see Grace's family and less frequent trips to Spain to see Bambi's (though Bambi's family usually come to France to visit).
Olivia probably goes to the French youth teams because it's easier but Grace is always trying to convince her to join the Lionesses when she's old enough
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Dang the Fargo finale had me crying y'all
Opening scene: Gator all alone, still bound? Painful.
Dot shooting Roy? Deserved.
Roy killing Witt? I'll never recover.
Gator and Dot reunion/apology/cookies? I needed that. Oatmeal raisin are my favorite too. Wish I could have seen how he's fairing in prison in the timeskip.
Lyon family reunion/"That’s my girl"? About damn time.
Lorraine visiting Roy in prison? SHE IS THE SEXIEST WOMAN ALIVE. I LOVE YOU, LORRAINE.
Side note: I also love Wayne and would marry him too.
Oola Moonk? Kinda stressful, kinda weird but hey all's well that ends well. They had biscuits but I was hoping for pancakes.
Overall, good season.
#fargo spoilers#fargo season 5#fargo s5#fargo fx#fargo#gator tillman#dorothy lyon#lorraine lyon#wayne lyon#roy tillman
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Fairytail in a GOT au - part 2
There’s the original post :) if you haven’t read that I suggest you do so you can get a gist of this one.
Gruvia
Arranged marriage
I think BonnieQ pretty much nailed what their relationship would be like already in her GOT au fic but I’m gonna continue anyways
Juvia and Gray would both be very stoic with each other for the first week, Juvia opens up way before he does though
Girl’s horny 24/7
Occasionally they’d make a trip to the Riverlands cause she gets a little homesick, but she loves the North just as much
Juvia shocked that she has a man that actually treats her with respect and doesn’t cross boundaries
Gray found her a bit odd at first but once he got to know her that boy was in looooove
When there’s a war they don’t leave each other behind they go together (despite how much Gray protests she stays home)
Lyon constantly making moves on a married woman, Gray would threaten to send him to the Wall
Like Bran in episode 1 I imagine Juvia finding a load of direwolf puppies and begging for Gray to let her keep them
He’s like “yeah whatever” but secretly he was also about to beg her to take them home
They’re pretty quick to have children (horny bastards)
Nalu
Natsu grew up in King’s Landing and one day the “Lannisters” (Lucy’s family) visited and Natsu pissed her the fuck off but they were actually pretty close by the end of it
Lucy was promised to someone else
Natsu is a knight
See where I’m going here
Forbidden looooove
Yeah they secretly shagging
They’d be like frenemies to lovers
They’d pull a Lyanna and Rhaegar and secretly elope
This is game of thrones people wouldn’t like that once they found out
Do I hear a war? Yeah there was totally a war because of it
Random bullshit
Natsu would be a knight to the Targaryens I think (so Mira’s family n that)
Targaryens would beg the Stark’s (Gray and co) to fight in the war against the Lannisters (angry Lucy family) and Gray would get in a little spat with Natsu about how he basically started a war for pussy
I feel like Lucy’s mother would’ve been a Tyrell
Natsu would have Targaryen blood fr but I feel like he’d be a bastard
Makarov runs a brothel in King’s landing lmao
Juvia would have Pyke blood too yk sea and that
Jellal and Erza are literally just Brienne and Jaime
Erza and Natsu still besties and she’d be in the King’s guard as well
Natsu would definitely have a dragon
Juvia is full on Catalyn when it comes to her kids (in a good way) she’ll do anything for them
#gray fullbuster#juvia lockser#fairy tail#gruvia#fairy tail 100 yq#gray x juvia#nalu#fairytail headcanons#game of thrones au#fairy tail got au#natsu dragneel#lucy heartifilla#lucy heartfilia#erza scarlet#jellal fernandes#jerza
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Ooh, what about Gray & Lyon & Ultear siblingship headcanons ?
I literally already had this in my drafts as a wip! I love this trio with all my heart! Btw I live in a fantasy world where Ultear is okay so keep that in mind lol
Ultear has big sister energy, Lyon has middle child syndrome and Gray is the baby brother
They all meet up every couple months to catch up. Ultear, particularly, enjoys hearing stories about her mom
The boys teach Ultear ice make. She can already kinda use it but they help her master it
Gray and Lyon bicker constantly. There’s no venom in it anymore but old habits
Ultear still calls Lyon “the cold emperor”. He despises it but she thinks it’s hilarious
Part of Ultear’s path to light was going and apologizing to Lyon about her part in Galuna island. He helped her hide from the council on several occasions after that
They mourned Gray’s ‘death’ and would meet up on the anniversary of it every year. (Even if it almost jeopardized Ultear’s location)
The way they show love is so violent that people think they are trying to kill each other all the time. Imagine Ultear running into Fairy tail and violently pulling Gray into a headlock, Gray throwing Lyon off a literal roof, Lyon and Ultear insulting each other so intensely that Jura steps in
Everyone refers to them as siblings. It gets to the point that the next gen doesn't even know they aren't actually related.
Prank wars. Ultear's idea but has become a family tradition. There is no peace when the trio is together
They all visit Ur's grave together. Ultear was absolutely terrified the first time she went.
#you dont understand#i LOVE them#anon :)#fairy tail#fairy tail headcanons#gray fullbuster#lyon vastia#ultear milkovich#ur milkovich
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Smoke and Mirrors
We're Ready For Anything
Chapter 7
Smoke and Mirrors
-7- We're Ready for Anything
Book: The Royal Romance Finale +, Alternate Universe
Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.’
Catch Up: Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist
Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘Liri’
2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy
All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Delaney Leigh, Officer Alex Cossoy, Geoffrey Bessler (Amalas’ head guard.)
Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking, gun violence.
Not Beta'd, please excuse all errors.
Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff
Words: 2274, Read: 10 minutes
Chapter 7: We’re Ready for Anything
Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley find out more about their twins and Lena is captured by Interpol.
Music and Title Inspiration: Ready for Anything, Landon Austin
A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #32, Prompt #2 - “Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”
A/N2: My submission for May Choices Monthly Challenge @choiceschallenge-may2023 @jerzwriter @maychallenge prompts - Mother’s Day, holding hands/ crying /caress
King’s Study, Cordonian Palace
It was late into the evening as Liam opened the financial report for Portavira on his computer. Taking note that Duke Ebrim was requesting a sizeable amount of emergency funds for the coastal region in the form of stipends.
Opening his e-mail to respond, a knock on his study door got his attention.
“Come.” Liam called out and continued typing, not taking his focus off the screen.
“Hey, Li. Am I interrupting?” Drake asked hesitantly.
Without looking up, Liam answered, “Drake, hey...what brings you here tonight?”
“Well, I need your advice on something.”
Closing his laptop, Liam stood up and walked to his bar cart, picking up two glasses and a bottle of Macallan.
Liam chuckled, “Why do I think this has something to do with a certain blond in your life?”
“Yeah, well...”
Pouring two glasses of scotch, Liam slid one to Drake and sat back down, taking a sip.
“Delaney wants to visit her parents in Austin....and she wants me to go with her.”
Drake exhaled a breath and Liam grinned.
“So, what’s the problem, Drake? Nervous about meeting your future in-laws?”
Drake shot his friend a look, and Liam roared in laughter.
“Seriously, Drake? This is not a problem, buddy!”
“Yeah, well...the thing is, her parents are pressuring her to move back home to the States. Laney is seriously considering it.”
Shaking his head, “Laney wants me to move back with her.”
Liam looked at his friend, noting the conflict in his expression.
“I don’t want to lose her, Li. I also don’t want to leave Cordonia.”
Queen’s Study, Monterissian Palace
“Geoffrey, do you have the video footage of the arrest from last night taken outside the palace?”
Amalas spoke to her guard through the speakerphone on her desk.
“Not at this time, your majesty. Interpol has not uploaded the file yet to our systems.”
“Wait a second. Pause and rewind...what did you just say?” Leo asked incredulously.
“Your majesty?” Geoffrey asked questionably.
“Leo, its protocol that the Interpol inspectors have access to all palace systems ahead of my Royal guard.” Amalas answered.
“Access, yes, but to commandeer all viewing?” Leo challenged.
“Thank you, Geoffrey, that will be all at this time.” Amalas tapped the app closed and spun around her chair, glaring at Leo.
“What the hell, Ams? You are taking orders from some ‘suit’ in Lyon, France? ….Why?”
“First of all, I don’t care for your tone. Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. Like I don’t run this country! Especially in front of my people.” Amalas countered angrily.
Leo sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was a challenge for the former Crown Prince to remember not to interject his personal opinions into conversations with the Monterissian Royal guard.
Amalas is the Queen, and he was overstepping.
“Secondly, I appreciate the expertise and assistance of Interpol.”
Leo sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am surprised, to say the least. The ‘Spy Queen’ needing help in her own country.”
“And thirdly,” Amalas stood and frowned at Leo. “I am respecting the King of Cordonia’s request for a united front to uncover the truth behind the duplicity of the Royal guard in our countries.”
“Leo, we need to ‘cut the head off’ of this faction. There is someone or something controlling and directing operatives, like Bastien in Cordonia, that has infiltrated our highest security levels in the Royal guard of our countries.”
“Case in point: how a known fugitive can gain access to my private chambers, can pass through my security protocols. Allowed access to the Crown Princess of visiting monarchs, no less.”
“I get it Ams, I really do. ….and I am truly sorry.” Leo sighed and shook his head.
Amalas stood and walked over to Leo. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his lips sweetly and touched her forehead to his.
Clearing his throat, Geoffrey stood outside the open door and waited to make his presence known.
“Your majesty.”
Amalas turned to look at her head guard. “Yes, Geoffrey?”
“Interpol has successfully captured and detained the security breach.”
Cordonian Palace
It was shortly after 1 am when Liam returned to the south wing of the palace. Loosening his tie, he nodded at Mara as she stood guard outside of Eleanor’s chambers and continued to walk to his personal chamber he shared with Riley.
After preparing for bed, he opened the veranda door and stepped out into the cool night air. Looking out over the gardens, he took a deep breath and smiled. Tomorrow, he and Riley would find out the sex of their twin babies. He grinned thinking about all the possibilities, but if he was being truly honest with himself, he favored having a son. Or...he chuckled, maybe another Ellie.
Shaking his head, he decided to turn in for the night to get some sleep considering the day would bring much excitement for him and his family.
Approaching his side of the king-sized bed, he noticed that Riley’s side of the bed was slept in, but Riley was not in bed.
Liam went to his closet and slid on a pair of sweatpants. After stepping into the hallway, he returned down the hall towards Ellie’s chambers. He quietly opened her bedroom door and entered the darkened room. Beside her canopy bed, the single night light glowed, and he saw his daughter's outline. Wrapped snugly and securely in her mother’s arms, she was fast asleep along with Riley.
As he placed a soft kiss on Ellie’s forehead, Riley awoke and smiled. “Hi”, Riley whispered and touched his hand. After carefully detaching her arms from her daughter, she rose from bed to join her husband in their bedroom.
Liam closed the door behind him, after following Riley.
Joining his wife under the silk sheets, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.
“That’s better,” nuzzling her neck.
Smiling, Riley ran her fingers through his soft hair. “Working late tonight?”
“Yes, and no... Drake came to see me tonight.”
“Oh really, and here I thought you were avoiding me,” Riley smirked.
“Never!” Liam playfully teased.
“So, what was so important for Drake to pay such a late visit?"
“AHHHH, well...he wanted my advice. Drake is debating whether he should a, stay in Cordonia; or b, move to Delaney's home in Texas. And c, where he should go with his relationship with Delaney.”
Riley looked at her husband, “I know what you said.”
“I know you do, love,” kissing Riley’s nose.
“Home is where your love of your life is. I asked him what his true feelings were for Delaney. Once he can honestly answer that question, he will have his answer.”
Monterrisian Palace
The temperature in the Monterrisian palace holding cell area was at least 10 degrees cooler in the lower-level security offices. Amalas and Leo followed the Interpol officers and were shown to the viewing privacy window. Amalas was accustomed to the temperature change, but Leo had shivers go down his spine; from the temperature change, or nerves, or both.
On the other side of that window, Lena Rys was sitting in a chair alongside a female Royal guard. On the other side of the table sat Alex Cossoy and Olivia Nevrakis.
Amalas listened intently to the questioning, while Leo stared at the blond woman. Shock, mixed with disbelief left him speechless.
“What is your end game?” Olivia asked impatiently
“My end game is to take my place in the Rys family,” Lena coolly answered.
Olivia eyed Lena in disdain.
“My mother told me that my father wanted to hide me from my half-brother. That the ‘Cordonian royal family can’t find out who I really am... for my sake’.”
“’That’s horrible’,” Olivia sighed.
“’I didn’t want to believe those things about my family, but my mother had never lied to me’.”
"Your mother?"
"Yes, Sigrid took care of me in place of my true mother."
“You were brainwashed, she was obviously lying to you!” Olivia seethed.
“’I saw what Cordonia’s royal family really thinks of me when King Constantine came to Vallenheim for a diplomatic visit’.”
“’King Constantine told my mother that he wanted no part in foreign influences on Cordonia. He said that Queen Eleanor is gone. Which is why he wanted nothing to do with me. That Eleanor was her friend, but that association ended when Eleanor died. He does not owe us anything’.”
“My mother wanted me to meet my brothers, but Constantine said ‘he won’t be guilted with a child.’
I remember that my mother begged Constantine to meet me, and Constantine said no. 'My sons and I want nothing to do with me, my mother, Vallenheim, or any of our people!’”
My mother told me, 'This is exactly why Queen Eleanor wanted me kept away from Cordonia.’"
Lena’s eyes 'welled with tears that are equal parts anger and sadness.'
“In that moment, I knew everything my mother had said about my father and brothers was true.”
“Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”
Olivia stood up and paced the floor. Stopping directly in front of Lena,
“’Liam didn’t even know about you. Your brother is a better man than your father was.’”
“’I always resented Leo and Liam for having the life I could’ve had in Cordonia. I’ll even admit to envying Liam’s throne.’”
“’He’s a lot more than you were told. You might even like him if you gave him half a chance.’”
Lena’s features hardened, “’I think that ship sailed a while ago.’”
Dr Rameriz’s office, Cordonia
Looking at her reflection in the changing room, Riley placed her hands on her tummy. Her belly had grown so quickly this time around. Her morning sickness was now gone, and she felt more energized.
Slipping on the hospital gowni and robe, she opened the door to be greeted by the nurse.
“Your majesty”, the nurse curtsied and opened the door to the examination room.
Liam quickly stood offering his wife his hand.
“Are you ready for this, my love?”
“Oh Yes, Liam! Let’s do this!
Chuckling, he helped Riley get comfortable on the exam table, as the nurse placed a heated thermal blanket over top. Grasping his hand, she laid back and relaxed against the pillow.
Dr. Ramirez greeted the monarchs with a warm smile.
“Okay, today we are going to find out which sexes these little ones are.”
“Most definitely,” Liam smiled, squeezing Riley’s hand as she also smiled.
The doctor placed the doppler wand and the sound of heartbeats immediately could be heard.
“I will never tire from hearing those sounds.” Liam watched the monitor as the babies appeared.
Riley let out a breath and started to tear, squeezing Liam’s hand even more.
“So, what do you think, love?” Liam asked.
Riley grinned, “It’s a boy.”
The doctor nodded, “incredibly good instincts. Your majesties, you have a son.”
Liam beamed with joy and kissed his wife.
“...and baby number two?”
“A boy,” Riley answered.
The doctor shook her head smiling.
‘Your wife’s instincts are quite correct. Your children are both boys.”
Liam let out a breath.
Riley, now crying, was overcome with emotion.
“Riley, love,” Liam whispered, raising her hand, and softly kissed her palm.
“Yeah?”
“You did it again.”
Riley looked up at Liam with a question in her eyes.
Caressing her swollen tummy, “You made another dream come true for me. I love you so, so much.”
Riley, full of emotion, answered back, “as do I.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her lips and said, “let’s go home.”
Liam and Riley walked slowly out of the hospital, holding hands, both smiling as they approached the waiting SUV.
“We should spend the weekend in Valtoria.’ Liam smiled.
“I would love that, and I know that Ellie will be ecstatic to go to the festival in town.”
Liam grinned as he followed Riley into the SUV.
Not mentioning that he and Ellie have a special Mother’s Day celebration planned at the estate already for her.
🤎🤎🤎🤎🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🤎🤎🤎🤎
Thank you for reading!
⚜️Please DM me if you would like to be added or removed from the tags⚜️
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#liam rys#the royal romance#king liam#trr liam x mc#king liam rys#trr fanfic#always liam and riley#riley brooks#drake walker#trr#leo rys#olivia nevrakis#amalas#smoke and mirrors#tessa liam writes#choices fic writers creations#choices flashfics#choices monthly challenge#choicesflashfics#cfwc fics of the week#choices trr#choicesmaychallenge
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Francis Kinloch in Müller's letters to his family: Part 4
These extracts are from Johannes von Müller: Sämmtliche Werke, volume 7 (1810).
My translations here (with added paragraph breaks for legibility), original German transcriptions below the cut. This is the queerest part yet.
29 July 1776, to his father
The first cause of my silence, l. P.,* is that my regulated life really leaves me with little to write about; the other: that I am very busy. I read for a few hours with my friend, and that is almost the only time that I can devote to reading.
*For “lieber Papa”, “dear father”.
10 Oct 1776, to his father
You can guess the reason for my long silence, dearest father; when one is labouring on an important work, one becomes this work entirely; and in addition I finished a few more books with my friend Kinloch.
[...] A book seller from Neuchatel, Mrs B and I have convinced Mr B to put together a collection of his works. On account of this opportunity, he is working through all of them, and making additions and changes. Since he is not allowed to read himself, he wished to go through these writings with a friend who was already familiar with the contents. To that end, this summer we often read these and other writings for 2 – 3 hours a night in Mr Kinloch’s presence.
[...] My friend K is going to Italy. It is difficult; but the North American war and my work, which would be too disrupted, prevent me from accompanying him. This letter is not long enough to express to you how painful parting from him the day after tomorrow* will be for me.
[...] The loss of my friend makes me sad. Luckily, Kinloch is mine in every part of the world; our persons may be separated, but not our minds; I should care more about his perfection than about his presence; one day, in the long career that according to nature is open to us, we may well find ourselves together again**
*This places Kinloch’s departure for Italy on 12 October 1776.
**Original annotation: This friendship with Mr Kinloch remained unabated until Müller’s death. He received letters from him even in Cassel.
24 Dec 1776, to his brother
For myself, I seek nothing except that independence, which I consider to be the highest good of a human being, which I now enjoy, and will always enjoy through the generosity of my friend Kinloch and through the sciences.
Then I write my letters, rarely any others (except letters concerning business) besides those to my two friends, Bonstetten and Kinloch.
[...]Mr Kinloch sees Italy with the eyes of a man devoted to great occupations, with the sensitivity of a friend of antiquity and the fine arts. His letters are a diary of everything he sees, hears and feels. Through him and that other friend, I know Italy better than almost any other country.
April 1777, to his brother
When you wrote to him, I was in Lyon. My friend Kinloch, when he returned from Italy, wrote to me to find me at the lake below Genthod on a specific day, because he wanted to visit me; I however could not wait for him and took a cabriolet. I met him three hours from Geneva. He stayed with me for three or four days.
He strengthened his admiration for the monuments of the ancients when he saw them; his love of free government when he saw the current state of the nation and the constitution; and through everything, history, art and intercourse, he strengthened his noble desire for rightful fame and great virtues: and as he saw so many others, he learned to estimate my friendship even more highly. And it really seems to me that we loved each other ten times more during these few posts, and the purpose of our friendship is always our mutual perfection; nor does Kinloch want any other friend, and I do not want any others besides Bonstetten and him.
When he left Genthod and we had read and spoken a lot together, it was not possible for me to watch him go; so I went to Lyon. [...] I am never happier or healthier, nor do I think more clearly or feel more vividly, than when I am travelling; hence, I made a lot of observations and at the same time did a lot of work, both with my friend and after we left Lyon - at the same hour but by different routes - and I drove back.
I read everything to him that I had drafted about Switzerland over the winter, then we read several works by Juvenal with endless pleasure, from which I am also learning several parts by heart, and then we read about the countries that we had seen, besides many chapters from Montaigne, whose masterwork is the chapter on friendship*
*Michel de Montaigne’s famous essay De l’amitié (On friendship) was written after the death of his beloved friend Etienne de la Boétie. Montaigne posits that a person can only have very few - or even just one - true friends, a position based on his profoundly deep love for Boétie, whose death just four years into their acquaintance devastated him. Müller and Kinloch would have seen a close mirror of their own relationship in this, built as both were on intellectual pursuits and mutual self-improvement, and with a subtle but present homoromantic undertone. Read an English translation of the essay here, where Montaigne outs himself as team-Achilles-was-the-bottom.
4 Sept 1779, to his brother
It was with unspeakable pleasure that I received news from Kinloch a few days ago that, after feeling forced by mortal danger to take up arms for Carolina, he had distinguished himself so much as aide-de-camp in Georgia and Carolina under General Moultrie that, in a letter to the Congress, the general named him a very brave youth and the pride of his fatherland, and this was printed in the newspaper. This fame that my friends acquire is a powerful spur for me.
29 July 1776, to his father
Die erste Ursache meines langen Stillschweigens, l. P. ist, daß mein einförmiges Leben mir wirklich wenig zu schreiben darbietet; die andere: daß ich sehr beschäftiget bin. Ein paar Stunden lese ich mit meinem Freund, und das ist fast die einige Zeit, welche ich der Lecture widmen kann.
10 Oct 1776, to his father
Die Ursache meines langen Stillschweigens errathet ihr, liebster Papa; wenn man an einem wichtigen Werk arbeitet, so ist man ganz dieses Werkes; und denn vollendete ich mit meinem Freund Kinloch noch einige Bücher.
[...] Ein Buchhändler von Neufchatel, Frau B. und ich haben Herrn B. zu einer Sammlung seiner somtlichen Werke vermocht. Bei dieser Gelegenheit durchsieht er sie alle, und macht Zusäße und Veränderungen. Da er selbst nicht lesen darf, so wünschte er mit einem Freund diese Schriften zu durchgehen, dem zugleich der Inhalt geläufig wäre. Zu dem Ende haben wir diesen Sommer oft 2 – 3 Stunden des Abends diese und andere Schriften in Herrn Kinlochs Gegenwart gelesen.
[...] Mein Freund K. geht nach Italien. Es ist hart; aber der nordamerikanische Krieg und mein Werk, welches zu sehr unterbrochen worden wäre, verhindern mich ihn zu begleiten. Dieser Brief ist nicht lang genug, um Euch, auszudrücken, wie schmerzlich mir übermorgen dieser Abschied seyn wird.
[...] Der Verlust meines Freundes macht mich traurig. Zum Glück ist Kinloch in allen Welttheilen mein; unsere Personen mögen getrennt werden, aber nicht unsere Gemüther; seine Vervollkommnung soll mir mehr am Herzen liegen, als seine Gegenwart; endlich in der langen Laufbahn, welche der Natur nach uns offen ist, mögen wir uns wohl zusammen finden *..
* Diese Freundschaft mit Herrn Kinloch blieb ungeschwacht bis zu Müllers Tode. Er erhielt zu Cassel noch Briefe von ihm.
24 Dec 1776, to his brother
Für mich selbst suche ich nichts, als jene Unabhängigkeit, welche ich für das höchste Gut eines Menschen halte, deren ich nun genieße, und durch den Edelmuth meines Freundes Kinloch und durch die Wissenschaften allezeit genießen werde.
Alsdann schreibe ich meine Briefe, selten andere (außer Briefe die Geschäfte betreffen) als an meine zwei Freunde, Bonstetten und Kinloch.
[...]Herr Kinloch sieht Italien mit den Augen eines Mannes, der sich den großen Geschäften widmet, mit der Empfindlichkeit eines Freundes der Alten und der schönen Künste. Seine Briefe sind das Tagbuch alles dessen, was er sieht, hört und fühlt. Durch Ihn und jenen andern Freund kenne ich Italien genauer als fast kein anderes Land.
April 1777, to his brother
Als du ihn schriebest, war ich zu Lyon. Mein Freund Kinloch, als er aus Italien zurückkam, schrieb mir an einem gewissen Tag mich am See unter Genthod zu finden, weil er mich besuchen wolle; ich konnte ihn aber nicht erwarten und nahm ein Cabriolet. Drei Stunden von Genf traf ich ihn an. Drei oder vier Tage blieb er bei mir. Er hatte sich beim Anblick der Denkmale der Alten in der Bewunderung derselben, bei Ansicht des heutigen Zustandes der Nation und der Verfassungen in der Liebe freier Regierung, durch alles, Historie, Künste und Umgang in der edlen Begierde verdienten Ruhms und großer Tugenden bestärkt: auch da er so viele andere gesehen hatte, hatte er meine Freundschaft noch höher schätzen gelernt. Und es scheint mir würklich, wir haben einander zehnmal lieber gewonnen in diesen wenigen Lagen, und der Zweck unserer Freundschaft ist allezeit unsere wechselseitige Vervollkommnung; auch will Kinloch keinen andern Freund, ich will auch keinen außer Bonstetten und ihn. Als er Genthod verließ und wir vieles gelesen und gesprochen hatten, war mir nicht möglich, ihn abreisen zu sehen; also ging ich auf Lyon. [...] Niemals bin ich freudiger noch gesünder, auch denke ich nie heller noch empfinde lebhafter, als wann ich reise; daher ich eine Menge Beobachtungen gemacht und zugleich sowohl mit meinem Freund, als nachdem wir Lyon zu gleicher Stunde, aber auf verschiedenen Wegen, verlassen und ich zurückfuhr, sehr viel gearbeitet habe. Ihm las ich alles, was ich diesen Winter über die Schweiz abgefaßt hatte, dann lasen wir mit unendlichem Vergnügen verschiedene Stücke im Juvenalis, aus welchem ich auch mehreres auswendig lerne, und dann lasen wir über die Länder, die wir sahen, nebst vielen Kapiteln im Montaigne, dessen Meisterstück das Kapitel von der Freundschaft ist;
4 Sept 1779, to his brother
Vor wenigen Tagen habe ich mit unsäglichem Vergnügen von Kinloch Nachricht bekommen, daß, nachdem er sich durch Lebensgefahr gezwungen gesehen, für Carolina die Waffen zu ergreifen, er unter General Moultrie als Aide de Camp in Georgien und Carolina sich so sehr ausgezeichnet, daß er von dem Feldherrn in einem Brief an den Congreß ein sehr tapferer Jüngling und eine Ehre seines Vaterlandes genannt worden ist, welches gedruckt worden. Dieser Ruhm, den meine Freunde erwerben, ist für mich ein gewaltiger Sporn.
4 Sept 1779, to his brother
Vor wenigen Tagen habe ich mit unsäglichem Vergnügen von Kinloch Nachricht bekommen, daß, nachdem er sich durch Lebensgefahr gezwungen gesehen, für Carolina die Waffen zu ergreifen, er unter General Moultrie als Aide de Camp in Georgien und Carolina sich so sehr ausgezeichnet, daß er von dem Feldherrn in einem Brief an den Congreß ein sehr tapferer Jüngling und eine Ehre seines Vaterlandes genannt worden ist, welches gedruckt worden. Dieser Ruhm, den meine Freunde erwerben, ist für mich ein gewaltiger Sporn.
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ℑ𝔫 𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 1959 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔈𝔩𝔳𝔦𝔰 𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔞 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔯𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔳𝔞𝔪𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰. ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔴𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡? ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔞𝔰 5 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔤𝔬, 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 107, 𝔦𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢, 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰.
August 27, 1959
It had been almost a month since you agreed to become his familiar. At first you didn’t really understand what that meant. After a few days, the vampire thing didn’t bother you that much anymore, you knew how he felt towards you irregardless if you were human and he wasn’t. but you missed your best friend and your kids. Rosalinda had been your best friend since you moved to Paris almost exactly two years ago, you had been inseparable and not knowing what happened to her was tearing you up inside, almost as much as not seeing your kids for a month. Elvis had said he would try to bring them to you, and you trusted him, but you were getting impatient.
August 30, 1959
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEYRE GONE?” you screeched at Elvis, looking around you see a porcelain book end on the top of the small bookshelf beside you. In your rage you throw it at his head, shattering into pieces as it hits the wall behind him. You had been patiently waiting for Elvis to find your children, and apparently now he’s telling you that your son was taken into custody on child abandonment charges and your daughter had moved out of your house and he was unable to locate her. Your son would be taken back to America to his father, your stomach churned at the thought. “DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD I WORKED TO MAKE SURE MY CHILDREN NEVER HAD TO SEE OR HEAR FROM THAT MAN AGAIN? AND BECAUSE OF YOU ALL THAT HARD WORK IS UNDONE, MY BABY IS NOT SAFE WITH HIS FATHER. YOU GET HIM BACK. YOU UNDERSTAND?” you throw a book at his head now, this time he’s not as fast and the spine of the rather large passage hits his forehead with a heavy thunk. “y/n,” Elvis said almost in a whisper, scared to upset you more than you already were. “I know I could never understand what you’re going through right no-“ “YOUR DAMN RIGHT YOU DON’T.” you go to throw another object at him, but he rushes towards you, catching the glass paperweight before it ever left your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m trying my hardest to get to them, hopefully soon I can have you altogether here.”
September 15, 1959
You felt like your life was over, you wallowed in your bed for what felt like months, because it had been. You had received word that your son was now back in the states with his father, your ex-husband, who by all means, was a piece of shit. Your daughter still wasn’t able to be located, right before you disappeared, she had started dating this nice boy from Lyon and had spoken a few times about going to visit his family’s estate, you hoped she was safe.
Elvis, despite your moping, had been very attentive when he was home. he felt at blame for letting your son slip through the cracks and had no qualms with you needing to take time to recuperate. You were looking at a photo of your children together for last easter when you heard a knock at the door. “don’t come in I want to be left alone.” You announce, knowing he’s gonna come in anyways. “Darlin?” Elvis muttered under his breath. “whaddaya say we get out of the house today? We can go buy some clothes and you can get lunch?” Elvis asked sweetly.
You obliged his request knowing the longer you laid there the harder it would be for you to get up. You got up and put on a clean dress, looking at yourself in the mirror you winced, your hair was so matted and tangled and your eyes were red and baggy, you looked like shit. After coffee and a lunch at your favorite café you started to feel more like yourself. as the day dragged on, you started to feel more like yourself, the reminders of your loss clouding your mind less. Until you saw her. “Rosa?” you whispered under your breath, on the opposite side of the street there she was, your best friend. She hadn’t seen you, but the longer you looked at her the more you knew something wasn’t right. You looked up at Elvis whose hand was gripping yours so hard it felt like he could pull your hand off. “I think we need to go, y/n, we need to go right now.”
February 2, 2016
Hello children,
If you ever find this diary, please know that I love you. I’m leaving it with the rest of my belongings as I don’t know if or when I will return to this country. If I do it probably won’t be in your life times, I have watched from a distance as you raised your daughters, they are so beautiful and I wish it was safe for me to meet them, but it is not. I love and adore you all and wish for bright futures for your girls. I’m so sorry about what happened and it is something I will have to live with until the end of time. From my entries here you will learn why I wasn’t able to come back to you after I was abducted.
I love you, mama
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The Fettercairn Jewel
From my visit to The National Museum yesterday,, this fascinating wee pendant is shrouded in mystery, this is what the museum says about it.
The Fettercairn Jewel is an exceptionally rare Renaissance gold pendant locket. Set with a large almandine garnet, it features an elaborate scene in enamel on the back. The jewel is oval, with a fastening at the top to hold a gold ring, and, at the bottom, a smaller ring, that was originally a catch to hold the case shut. The case opens and would probably have contained a miniature portrait on vellum or ivory or some other personal memento. It would have been worn as a pendant on a chain or pinned to clothing, and it probably had a pearl or precious stone hanging beneath it.
The front of the Fettercairn Jewel, set with a large garnet, but I prefer the back, whichl is decorated with detailed enameled imagery.
The Fettercairn Jewel is one of a very small number of Renaissance jewels to have survived in the British Isles. Jewellery from such an early date has a very low survival rate, due to the historic recycling of precious stones and materials. This makes the survival of the Fettercairn Jewel remarkable.
Its Scottish provenance, and its potential relationship with other known jewels made for Scottish patrons, raise the possibility that the Fettercairn Jewel was made in Scotland or for a 16th-century Scottish patron. Our initial historical research is concentrating on these lines of enquiry.
The Fettercairn Jewel holds the potential to expand significantly our knowledge of the Scottish Renaissance, about the way in which a visually literate society communicated complex messages through objects, and to learn more about the quality and ambitions of 16th-century craftsmanship.
The garnet, on the front was reputed to have medicinal and healing properties.
On the reverse of the pendant the scene centres on a figure of Mercury, with his caduceus, or staff, resting on his outstretched right arm. He is wearing a winged helmet and classical armour, and holding something in his raised left hand.
To the right of Mercury sits a white dog looking upwards, possibly a symbol of fidelity. A vase of flowers stands to his left and more flowers appear elsewhere on the ground. The carefully delineated flowers, including cornflowers, wild roses, violets and marguerites, are all identifiable and many had specific symbolic meanings.
On the horizon are two groups of buildings and a large tree. On the buildings to the left sits a green bird resembling a parrot with its distinctive hooked beak, and on the right a smaller white bird. Above Mercury’s head flies another bird and two butterflies.
The dog, birds and flowers are not part of the usual iconography associated with Mercury, which suggests that the imagery has been designed with a particular meaning and patron in mind. Jewels of this sort often contained complex messages; could the animals and flowers have a heraldic association with the original owner of the Jewel? Is some more complex story hidden in its imagery? So far the Fettercairn Jewel retains its mystery.
Mercury was one of the most popular gods in Renaissance imagery. He was specifically associated at this time as the god of messengers and became closely associated with the officers of arms (the royal heralds) in 16th-century Scotland. An image from the Seton Armorial of c.1591 casts Lyon King of Arms, the king’s personal representative, as Mercury. This could suggest that the Fettercairn Jewel was crafted around the same time, and may indicate a connection to the Scottish court.
We are also trying to establish why the Fettercairn Jewel was made. One possibility links it to the extensive practice of royal court and noble household gift-giving: during the Scottish Renaissance, the royal family gave generous gifts of jewellery to courtiers and ambassadors, a practice common in other European courts of the period.
Alternatively, the Jewel may have been conceived as a token for a beloved family member or spouse. Jewels containing miniature portraits were often exchanged as keepsakes between loved ones, and would often be worn close to the heart.
The pendant came into the National Museums Scotland collection through an auction of over 400 works of art and artefacts from the private collection of the Forbes family, whose home was Fettercairn House in Aberdeenshire. The Forbes of Pitsligo descend from Sir William Forbes, brother of Alexander Forbes, first Lord Forbes. Both branches were prominent elite families in the sixteenth century. The first Lord Forbes married the granddaughter of King Robert II of Scotland and daughter of Douglas, Earl of Angus.
National Museums Scotland is investigating potential links between the Jewel and the Scottish royal court, and the possibility of its links to the Darnley Jewel, now in the Royal Collection. The Darnley Jewel was probably commissioned during the 1570s by Lady Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox, as a memorial for her husband Matthew Stewart, earl of Lennox and Regent of Scotland, and was later owned by both Horace Walpole and Queen Victoria. The Fettercairn Jewel shows similarities of design and technique with the Darnley Jewel, and their shared Scottish provenance merits further investigation.
The Fettercairn Jewel is currently on display in the Kingdom of the Scots gallery, near to the Penicuik Jewels, which are associated with Mary, Queen of Scots.
#scotland#scottish#jewellery#pendant#mystery#my pics#history#National Museum of Scotland#Chamber Street#edinburgh
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If you were Kate, how would you come back? Given that her first appearance will be wildly covered, would you do it alone or with William? Would you pick an engagement connected to Early Childhood or to something else? Would you announce it beforehand or not?
Three different answers. What I would if I was Kate. What I would recommend Kate do. What I think Kate will do.
What I would do if I was Kate:
Step 1: Easter Sunday - the entire family goes to Easter Service in Windsor apart from me. I'm talking everyone - the Kents, the Middletons, the Gloucesters, if we can get some Bowes-Lyons or Mountbattens even better. There are no statements or press leaks about where I am.
Step 2: announce a whole range of engagements for William, describing them as "the start of a new phase in his life". At least two or three of them should be with single fathers, charities that support children from broken homes, etc. While this is happening, I spend a good month or so working behind the scenes with charities and ask them very nicely not to leak it to the press.
Step 3: after a suitable period of time, just turn up at an engagement with no prior warning. While there, the charities make a nice comment about all the communication we've had recently. If anyone mentions the surgery, I'll just act confused and then gaslight the world into believing I never had surgery.
Step 4: after the summer, consistently refer to all the work I did in the spring (and get everyone else to refer to it too!)
What I would recommend Kate do:
Step 1: attend the Easter service with rest of the family. Spend time with William and the children but also chat with the others. Smile a lot
Step 2: leak to the press that she's been doing a lot of work behind the scenes. Have an anonymous source from a charity mention that we've been in contact (also, do those things)
Step 3: first engagement is embargoed and is with children. Perhaps in a nursery? Answer any questions from children with, "I'm feeling much better now and I'm so glad I get to go to work and see you again" then immediately redirect the conversation
Step 4: after a few small engagements with children, a pre-announced away day with William. Three wildly different engagements, one of them is art related. While there, make a joke about bad photoshopping skills.
Step 5: from May-July, range between solo engagements, William engagements and engagements with other royals, particularly Camilla and Anne
What I think Kate will do:
Step 1: Be seen in the car with the kids during the Easter holidays, possibly on Easter but maybe after
Step 2: First engagement will be April 23rd. Release a photograph of Louis (taken by Matt Porteous or Chris Jackson in the morning). It will be with William
Step 3: First solo engagement on April 25th. An Early Years meeting in the morning, followed by a visit to a nursery or a forest school (something laid back and casual)
Step 4: Two working days the following week - engagements linked around Early Years, sport, culture, community
Step 5: when appropriate, talk about her surgery in more detail (possibly what it was like to recover or how strange it was not to be meeting with the public) at an engagement
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I'm thinking of Southern Kalos
Currently, we only explored Northern Kalos, but I kept thinking about where Looker and Anabel currently live and will eventually end up in when retired from Interpol.
For those who don't know, Interpol's HQ IRL is actually located in France. It's in a city called Lyon, which is kind of around the Kiloude area but Kiloude is far too small and undeveloped for me to use it.
So I'm thinking about making half of a new region with the rest of Kalos. Not like... Actually making it for others to enjoy like a video and dex, but I'll talk about it from time to time. Important locations are the Pokemon world versions of Lyon, Nice, the French Riviera in general, and the Pyrenees mountains that separate Kalos from Paldea.
Currently, Looker and Anabel have apartments in Poke-Lyon. It's the "Lumiose" of Southern Kalos and acts as a home base.
Eventually, they'll both move out of the bustle of Poke-Lyon, away from Interpol, to start a family in a smaller, quieter town. I was thinking Cerbère. Daphne and Rune are born here.
It's a small town that's between the borders of Spain and France. Beyond it is the Pyrenees mountains. It can act as a direct connection to Paldea. It was also chosen because it's got a bit of an ocean view. In my idea, it could be a bit bigger and be close to where Daphne and Rune will go to school at: An Academy that's similar to Paldea's school system known as Wildflower Academy. (or maybe Cosmos Academy, still named after a flower but pun on space because ultra space ahaha...)
Anabel probably visits Southern Kalos's Battle Tower-adjacent facility from time to time. She's not a facility head anymore, but she's like a secret boss and enjoying herself. On the flip side, Looker's taking up several hobbies. Maybe he's growing a garden, maybe he's a language tutor, maybe he's doing some personal reading. And maybe he's also at the Battle place for moral support OR dragged to be Anabel's double battle partner!
Their careers I'm leaving vague for now because I can't think of anything concrete that I'm vibing with. But yeah, Southern Kalos.
Here's a regional variant! (Am going to redesign the evolutions.)
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yeah! because he IS known as her grand father like going off the fact hes a real madrid player in the media livy is often painted as real madrids next big thing! (shes not. That girl is French through and through)
it did lead though to Rafael and Jenni doing an interview and arguing about it for ages when livy was born if shes barca or madrid and in the end grace had to end it saying liv is infact lyon.
Olivia being Lyon like how Alexia is Barcelona.
Livy not stepping foot in Spain unless it's to visit family or to play against a Spanish team
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Barcelona 1/4
this was actually the first thing I ever wrote` + english is not my first language + mentions of anxiety + 2.4k word count
it’s the first part to a 4 chapter story
‘’Do we have everything?’’ Anxiously, you looked up at your friend Layla. ‘’Yes, let’s go, we will be late, babe.’’ She replied, looking back at you from your bed. You could tell she was really trying to get through to you by the way her big blue eyes were staring you down. The two of you were sat in your bedroom, busy packing two small bags.
You were in desperate need of any sort of escape, the stress about more than one thing was really getting to you by now. Uni, work, not to mention your terrible mental health that seemed to even escape the notice of your closest friends. You were an absolute pro at hiding how you were actually feeling; it was getting scary by now. You were always the person that others leaned on, that others came to for help and support. Always the giver, never the taker. Just the fact that you had friends to begin with, was enough for you. Grateful nature is how you justified your actions to yourself.
It was a no brainer that when your mother, who you rarely saw, called for you to visit her and some other family members during a business trip in Barcelona, you didn’t spend much time thinking about it. It meant a drive of approximately 12 hours, and a week of being away. Good timing, you figured.
You made a call to one of your closer friends, asking her to go with you. Of course, as expected, she was beyond excited. You packed for your little getaway in under a couple of hours, and were ready to leave during the early morning hours. The trip would give you two some much needed time together to catch up and you’d be able to do some much needed stress relief.
Liege, Luxembourg, Lyon, Montpellier…
You’d spend a lot of time behind the wheel naturally, as a 2nd year motorsport engineering student, but for some reason this drive was different. You didn't want to slow down, and didn’t necessarily want to arrive quickly either. Your first long stop to eat wasn’t until you arrived at the very south of the somewhat cold country of France. Carefully you parked at a big gas station, letting out a yawn and grabbing your phone from the console to check some notifications, right before your breath got stuck in your throat.
‘’Are you okay?’’ Layla asked you as she noticed you started to look pale in the face.
You opened your work group chat after hours, or better said probably days of leaving it muted. Your eyes immediately fell on the PDF document that was sent by your boss not long ago.
F1 Winter test in Barcelona 23-25 February, 2022. It is February 22nd today.
SHIT
‘’Uhm yes I’m fine, let’s go inside’’ you mumbled.
You ordered for both you and Layla. Somehow managing to speak a well-understandable French. The two of you ate, a pasta that felt like it was going to hurt your stomach later, but you two were never picky when it came to food, especially not during trips. Layla showing you the guy she was talking to this week, you laughed and finished up before you made your way down the stairs of the restaurant, walking back to the gas station.
Your car was filled up, your body stretched a little bit and your energy reloaded enough for the last push of the drive.
Before you got back into the car, you told Layla you’d go back inside the gas station to take an aspirin quickly. ‘’Just in case’’, you said.
Slightly worried, Layla nodded her head at you, while closing the passenger door of your car. She wasn’t stupid either. It was quite obvious something was going on in your head, even though you were laughing with her just a minute ago.
You left to the bathrooms that were located outside the building, opened WhatsApp again to be sure of what you just read. How could you be so stupid? You completely forgot about it. Was it a good or a bad thing, even?
It was only a while ago that you met the person who you’ve been trying to get out of your head ever since. You remember it so vividly, that one night.
You were sat inside of your car with your colleague and friend Alex. The drivers’ door open, looking down at your phone, waiting for the que that you two could go home. Meanwhile a lot of Marshalls were outside the gates of the Zandvoort circuit, waiting for everyone that was working on the track that day to exit safely.
Mechanics exited, team principals, trucks, engineers, marshalls, eventually drivers as well. A lot of men exiting would honk, wink, smile or try to get your attention in any other way. You remember how disgusting it made you feel. It was late, you were tired, most of the fans had already left. The cold Dutch air that kept flowing in your car was the only thing keeping you awake at that point. You saw fans screaming at Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz and Pierre Gasly. Some of them stopped to take pictures with them, you could see just outside the gates. Good for them, you thought.
You honestly didn’t bat an eye, you were never the type to care for famous people, even if they were F1 drivers. Even if your life constantly revolved around racing and working on the tracks. You figured it's nothing more than a nice feature on your student curriculum. Was that really the reason you started working there, though?
Your thoughts were irrupted when Alex smirked and poked your arm with his elbow. ‘’What?’’ You replied dryly, without bothering to look up from your phone, looking at a story Lewis Hamilton had posted hours prior. You were a complete mess when it came to him, you’d never dare to go near him in fear of literally fainting. That’s how big of a crush you had on him, he was your only idol, the only person you were looking up to. It felt like something completely childish to you, and besides, this was real life. Not some fairy-tale where everything would somehow be possible. He was nothing but a far, far away dream.
’’I think someone fancies you’’, he chuckles.
You look up to Alex and notice him looking past you, to your left. You turn, only to directly meet the eyes of Lewis Hamilton. There he was, in the actual flesh. He drove past you, as anyone else, on his way to the exit. The only difference is that he stopped. For a few seconds you exchanged the most electrifying eye contact you’d ever had in your life. He smiled at you, obviously knowing what he was doing.
‘’Get out and talk to him, this is your chance!’’ Alex shouted. You felt like your stomach had just dropped out of your body. You were perplexed, you couldn’t even think straight. Your mind going blank, and the only thing you could do out of shame, is looking away, you couldn’t afford him to see you while you didn’t even know what kind of facial expression to make. From the side of your eye, you noticed his smile disappearing, waiting for a few more seconds before finally driving off, leaving you behind. You never saw him again.
Even though it was an excuse to get some fresh air and think about what you’re going to do in Barcelona, you got some aspirins from the gas station and a bottle of water. Popped two and swallowed them quickly. You figured that remembering that night would eventually give you a headache anyway. You couldn’t quite believe what happened, even though it might have seemed like nothing to anyone else. That was a one in a million, gazillion chance that he would have been able to talk to you. There was no one around, except your colleague.
No cameras, no interviewers, nothing. Before you go all emotional you stop yourself there and man up. You exited the building to walk back to the car, figuring that you would see what to do with the information of you two being in the same place during the same time again once you get there. Knowing your friend all too well, though, you knew that she was just the right person to tell this to. But how? You were honestly ashamed for not being the strong, confident person everyone thought you were when it came to guys, especially in the eyes of your friends.
You lower yourself into the big, black leather seats of your white Mercedes, wanting them to swallow you whole at this point. Layla obviously looked right through your facade. ‘’You know you can tell me anything, right?’’
‘’Yes, I know’’ you replied. ‘’It’s just stupid, you’ll probably think I’m an idiot for even thinking about this’’. You sighed.
‘’I can literally tell something is bothering you, do I need to beat someone up?’’
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You loved your friends; they would go to the ends of the earth for you. Sometimes you wonder what you did to deserve them, being so introverted in contrast to them.
‘’I think I might be in love with someone who is going to be in Barcelona, just like us’’. You spilled.
Layla looked at you more shocked than you’ve ever seen her before. With wide eyes, she couldn’t help but yell. ‘’YOU?!’’
‘’You’re in WHAT? HOW? WHO? How the hell am I just hearing about this now, you little….’’
‘’Well, obviously, you know, not in actual love, just-’’
‘’Hold on now.’’ Layla stopped you. ‘’Start from the beginning. Details.’’
She had every right to react like that, you were probably the last person to let out these words. You never had many crushes, or even boyfriends, despite all of the attention. The last time you were happily dating someone or being intimate must have been years ago. You usually kept to yourself when it came to these things anyway, but there simply hasn’t been much to tell.
‘’It’s nothing, it’s not going anywhere, it’s impossible…’’ you started, tone directly much lower, stopping when you noticed the crack in your voice. You felt so small all of a sudden, trying to push yourself back more in the seats of your car, as if you could somehow hide. You really didn’t want to admit to these feelings, not even to yourself.
‘’Who is it?’’
‘’Lewis.’’
‘’Lewis Hamilton?’’ Layla replied, looking at you, furrowing her eyebrows.
‘’Yeah.’’ You dragged the word out, making it almost questionable, while looking down at your fingers that were resting on the bottom of your steering wheel.
‘’Why wouldn’t that work?’’ She surprised you. ‘’Have you seen yourself?’’
You knew she wasn’t lying to you, you were undeniably beautiful, if you had to believe others. Always being mistaken for some model or some instagram celebrity, especially at tracks. In all honesty, you could have easily passed for one, anyways. Your mental health and self-image would always be your biggest enemy, because even with the daily compliments you got, even from strangers, you would never see yourself like they do.
‘’Obvious reasons.’’
Everything spilled, you told her about your feelings, especially since Zandvoort last year. Layla was carefully listening to you. Nodding here and there, processing everything in her head. You could tell she was going to come up with some crazy solution that only she could think of, you truly loved her for this.
‘’But he noticed you in Zandvoort?’’
‘’Yeah, I guess. He saw me and stopped before I saw him’’.
‘’My god.’’
‘’Lay, what do you want me to do? DM him and say ‘’hey, I’m that blonde girl you’ve exchanged eye contact with somewhere a year ago, remember me?’’ It would sound ridiculous. He gets attention from girls on the daily, there is no way he would even remember me’’. You let out a deep sigh. ‘’But it’s just... I can’t shake him either.’’
‘’Look, it’s not going to be that hard. You’re going to that winter testing, and you’ll get to see him again. I’m sure of it.’’ Layla firmly spoke. ‘’We should go, I feel like we’ve been sitting here for hours, and you have someone to reunite you with,'' she says while squeezing your cheek softly with her fingers, earning a smile from you.
You noticed from that moment her whole focus shifted to you; she would be super selfless for the rest of the trip. You trusted her, and trusted that whatever was going to happen, it would somehow work out. All you really wanted was to get rid of the knot in your stomach, and the best person to help you achieve that goal was Layla. She is the type of person that doesn’t let anything she wanted slip away from her. A quality you appreciated more than ever before now.
It’s 8 PM, you’re still in the south of France, about 5 hours removed from Barcelona.
The rest of the drive was a complete blur, you were tired both mentally and physically, but the first sign that showed ‘’Barcelona’’ in big letters gave you a little bit of energy, as well as terrible nerves flushing through your body, keeping you awake.
You were happy to finally arrive to the hotel, calling a receptionist to send someone to take your bags, stepping out of the car in the middle of the somewhat warm night. You had missed this, the lit- up palm trees, the smell of the salty sea hitting you like you were tens of thousands of miles away from home.
‘’I’m so happy our hotel is right by the beach, bless the wallets of that family of yours’’ Layla joked at you laughing, as she also got out of the car to the sights of the Arts Hotel.
You giggled back at her. ‘’You’re welcome.’’ You didn’t come from a rich family, but certainly a wealthy one. Whatever you would have, you were more than happy to share with your friends. If you could take them with you, you would.
7 AM
Sunrays started to heat your face, as you turned around trying to desperately fall back into sleep. You felt fussy, drenched from the drive as nerves starting to hit you. You hated these types of mornings when the first thing you would feel was anxiety. Slowly moving your arm around to find your phone somewhere between the sheets, trying not to wake Layla. 7:01 AM. Already? Really? You thought. After closing the curtains when you got up to get some water, you slowly let yourself sink back into the big bed. Luckily, the next time you opened your eyes and check your phone 3 hours had passed, and you felt ready to actually start your day.
#fanfic#formula1#lewis hamilton#storytimeeee#idontknowwhatimdoingwiththesetagspleasedontaskme#iloveyouforreading#lovestories#lh#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#mercedes#feedback is welcome#writing#let me know what yall think#✌🏻💗
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Fun story about me as a kid :
For context, I am from Québec, but I have some french family that, when I was little, I visited once every two years. In France, I went often went to the big cities, like Paris, Lyon and Marseille, where there were a lot of hijabi women. Back then, in my little Québecois hometown, there were none, so I was not familiar with muslim practices of any kind. I did however think I knew a lot about french culture, and saw it as a beacon of fashion, in particular. And so, my little kid brain tried to connect the dots, and the answer I came up with as for what hijabs were was that they were a fashion statement, for women who were so beautiful they didn’t need to show anything more than their faces. For my defense, all the hijabis in Paris were breathtaking, though that might simply be because they were in Paris, and back then I very much saw Paris through rose-tinted glasses. I was so proud of myself. I told everyone back home. I don’t know why my mom didn’t correct me. She probably thought it was cute or something. I think some people tried to tell me subtly that I was wrong, but being very autistic, I was both very set in my ways and oblivious to subtlety. I have to admit I did wear scarves around my head a couple of times, but quickly found out I did not have the face to pull it off, and that was the end of it.
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