#Dutch's story makes me so sad

[heavenlymorals]

The Tragedy of Dutch Van Dir Linde

Warning: spoilers ahead for both Red Dead games.

Dutch Van Dir Linde is one of the finest characters I've ever come across and that I think about a lot because in many ways, he is represents the dreams that people have and the awful reality of it too.

Heytham, what the hell do you mean that this manic, selfish, delusional piece of shit is like you or me?

Here is an example. When you were a kid, did your parents tell you that your dreams will come true if you worked hard? And did you believe it? I know I did. I studied often, got a great SAT score, joined many extracurriculars, did volunteer work regularly, got a part time job, had all high grades in advanced level courses and in AP/honor programs and I had one goal. To get into my dream college.

I made my resume. I did everything right. I listen to what people better than me told me to do and I waited for that acceptance letter- so confident that I would get into the university. Never once did I imagine that I'd get rejected, but I did. For a 17 year old kid, it felt like the world was ending. I remember sobbing myself to sleep, waking up, and then just laying on my bed disappointed in the world and the lies it fed me. In a perfect world, I'd have gotten accepted. Worst people than me got accepted, why couldn't I?

But I moved on. Life continued and I was fine. I was bitter, sure, but I managed to get over it and work towards better paths and a better future.

But what if I didn't? What if I got hung up on that forever? What if I fought the rejection? What would I have done? What would I have not done?

This little experience, one that many people have gone through, is kind of a microcosm of the much bigger human truth that the world will never be an ideal place due to the human nature.

If I was like Dutch, I would have fought the rejection- I would stick so diligently to the ideal that I believed in so hard, even though that failure was more than likely a guarantee. I wouldn't find an alternative to be better and do better things. I'll get hung up on a dream and never move past it.

That's his dilemma. He believes in the ideal, like we all do, but he will fight tooth and nail to make that ideal real while we will sigh and realize that life will never be the way we want it to be.

Dutch feels betrayed by the world, or at least by his vision of the world- especially America.

America was a country built on the promise of all men being born equal under God and under the law. All men.

That was the dream, the hope, and the promise.

What happened instead? The continuing of the institute of slavery, the massacre of natives, the monopoly of magnates, and the constant discrimination of those not considered 'white'.

It was disgusting and awful and it should've never happened- but it did and people tried to remedy it in ways that were gradual but real. They found different paths and different dreams and though there is still much work to be done, people are finding a way.

Dutch couldn't do that though. He refused to do that. He wanted the ideal and he wanted it immediately, even though it was impossible. He killed for his ideal, he robbed for his ideal, and he led people to hell for his ideal.

But it didn't matter. His ideal will never exist and he couldn't accept that- which leads to his end.

He won't be caught. And he didn't get caught by commiting suicide- a final fight. He wouldn't surrender to John or the Pinkertons, because that would mean admitting that his entire life was a struggle for nothing because his vision will never be realized if people like Cornwall or Favours or the professor continue to exist. Life was hell because of those people and the American dream did not exist because of those people.

"What a beautiful dream. So poorly rendered," - Dutch to Arthur.

And Dutch is right! From the very beginning that this country was created, it relied on an ideal that turned out to be a lie.

And Dutch couldn't handle that and wanted a perfect world that can never be realized and he tried to get that perfect world by lying and stealing and cheating and killing. What a depressing dichotomy.

Now, of course, when it comes to the personal motivations of Dutch, whether pride, hubris, narcissism, or any of that, they can all by factors to Dutch's pointless battle, but his motivation has always been clear and it never changed-

"Yeah, I know it's tough. You like Dutch. He's a charming fellow. He makes sense. He's like one of those nature writers from back East. Only he takes things a tiny little step too far. Rather than just loving the flowers and the animals and the harmony between man and beast, he shoots people in the head for money. And disagreeing with him. Now, I'm not a great intellect, but the metaphysical leap from admiring a flower to shooting a man in the head because he doesn't like a flower, is a leap too far." Edgar Ross to John Marston.

Dutch lived and died to create an ideal that would never be real because he could never accept reality and that is one of the saddest fates a man could have.

[dr3comebackera]

Daniel Ricciardo on his Zandvoort crash, surgery on his broken hand, recovery process, and return in Austin

Tom Clarkson: "Now you mentioned the elephant in the room, Zandvoort. FP2, Turn 3, what happened?"

Daniel Ricciardo: "I *awkward laugh*, I mean I obviously can remember it very clearly, since I didn't hit my head. Erm, but, so you come through, turn, I guess it's Turn 2, and it's over kind of a crest, but then you stay quite tight, because, then the line for 3, you ride the top of the banking. So you know, you're not taking a conventional racing line, so you're not like looking at the apex, you're looking at the top of the corner, pretty much. Like, as a driver, we're always looking ahead and normally like at the apex, but the way you exit 2, you then kind of look straight ahead and pick your braking point."

DR: "So at that point, I'd exited 2, I hadn't seen any yellows, nothing like that. And then by the time I've looked and braked, I then looked where I need to turn, and I see Oscar. This all happened so quickly, but I remember, I can, obviously I'm picturing it in my head now. So I remember, okay, the line we take is high and by this point I'd braked, so I'd already committed, so I knew the speed I was going. My only choice was to take the high line, but I could see his car was at the top of the track. So there wasn't enough room for me to pass through the high line. I'm going too fast to take a low line, so it was either, probably look like a real idiot and crash into him, or try and just slow the car as much as I can, and likely just crash into the barriers, which is what happened."

DR: "But yeah, because it was all, I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do, by the time then I'd committed to just going straight, I hadn't then realized, 'okay, take your hands off the wheel.' And a lot of us still don't do it, because crashing is not natural. And it happens so quickly, because you don't plan to crash, so a lot of the time you don't kind of have, yeah, the time to be like, 'okay, I'm crashing, what do I need to do? Brace myself, okay, take my hands off the wheel.' Sometimes you just don't have the luxury of time."

DR: "So, that was it, I hit the wall. I've only watched one replay, but I just don't, I don't want to. Basically, when I've gone in, I'm pretty sure like the right front, it's just the angle, right, the right front would've grabbed the Tecpro [barrier] first, and then that's, like, pulled it in, so it's, it's like I've turned really hard right, the way obviously it's grabbed the wheel. So because the wheels then turned so quickly, I've basically lost grip, so it spun out of my hands, and the bottom of the [steering] wheel, which is pure, hard carbon, has then come up and basically karate chopped my hand."

DR: "So then, you've got the shock of the crash and then adrenaline, so I've come on the radio, and I'd, I think I'd been like, oh sorry, like I've crashed or something. And then, is he like 'oh, you alright?' or 'can you continue?' and I was like, 'no, the car is damaged.' And then, I could feel my hand, and I was like, 'ow, my hand, my hand.' And then I just, it started to, like the pain just went, obviously ramped up really, really quickly, and I feared that something was bad. So, as I'm, I wanted, I was like, 'I need to get my glove off, I need to get my glove off.' And as I'm pulling my glove off, I remember, I was thinking, *awkward huffy laugh*, I was like 'if there's a bone through the skin, I'm gonna pass out.' So that's all, I was just like 'please, please don't let me see anything gruesome.' I'm not good with this stuff, I'm sweating telling it, like I'm serious. I suck at this.

TC: "Have you broken a bone before?"

DR: "I broke my arm as a kid at school, throwing a tennis ball. Anyway, yeah, another very random accident, and I didn't need surgery, that was like a long, long healing process."

DR: "But yeah, so, alright, so I've pulled my glove off, and I, I could see it was already quite swollen, but no bone through the skin. I was like, 'okay.' But then the pain just got so bad, so as soon as I jumped into the medical car, I was *long pause* making a lot of noises, because I was in a lot of discomfort. So I knew that it was not good. I knew immediately, obviously, I wasn't going to race on the weekend. Like I didn't need a doctor to tell me. I feared it was a broken bone. I think the first thing that really kind of just made me sad, was I just had a very, very productive summer break. I felt really, really good physically, and I was just, yeah I was just ready to go. And this just felt like an unfortunate setback. But I was just more worried about surgery and all that, because I'm, again, I'm a bit of a wuss.

TC: "What happened next, I mean, you went down to Barcelona, to Dr. Xavier Mir, who is renowned in the MotoGP world, for mending those sort of breaks. I also think he was, didn't he help Lance Stroll earlier in the year as well?" "Yeah" "So who put you in touch with him, or did you know him already?"

DR: "So from the medical center, we went to the hospital there in Amsterdam. Got scans, and they're like, 'yeah, it's broken.' And by this point, it's the size, like, looked like an elephant stepped on my hand. The doctor there said, 'look, I would recommend surgery.' He's like, 'you can have it here, but you probably want to wait anyway a few days for the swelling to go down. Speak to whoever you need to speak to and obviously you can have your surgery wherever you want, I'm just going to give you my advice.' So then we reached out to Lance, we reached out to, well Jose, a friend of ours who works with Alpinestars, so he knows all the MotoGP guys, and he, he's Spanish as well, so he knows. So he, I think, put us into touch with Xavier Mir, and then, yeah, Lance was like 'go to him' as well. All signs were just pointing to, this guy's done this too many times, just go see him. Like, like don't even bother, just go there.

DR: "So it was, it was a blessing and a curse because, *laughs* he does a lot of MotoGP guys, who, are not human. They are not. It's fact, they are not. So, I think there's an expectation of me going in there, he's like 'oh, F1, MotoGP, same! Not human, don't feel pain.' 'No, doctor, I feel pain. I'm going to cry for the next 48 hours whilst I'm in this hospital.' So it was just funny, they, I think, you know, all the doctors and nurses and that who were helping me, and they were great, but I think they were, they were just quite, they would laugh a lot, because I would wince and pull away and ask questions every needle that went into my arm. Erm, so I think they just thought I would be tough like a MotoGP rider, but I am not."

TC: "I'm sure you were."

DR: "No, no, trust me, I'm not. The break itself was quite significant. It was a shatter, like it wasn't like, oh you just break it clean down the middle. I think it was in eight pieces or something. So it was also, for a bone that can be quite a simple one, it wasn't too pretty."

TC: "So it's your pinky that was being affected by it?" "Erm, well..." "On your left hand?"

DR: "It's like the outside of the hand. So that's the bone I broke, in between like the wrist and the pinky, like that knuckle. So like along the outside there. But even me just rubbing my finger over the top of my hand, hurt like crazy. Maybe I just feel pain more than others, I don't know. *laughs* But er, sorry, I just want to, just let's also say one thing. There was also the reality where, yes, I would moan and complain because I don't like the pain. But it was a broken hand, so there was also a part of me which was like, 'look, dude, yes you're in pain and it's going to be a bit of a process, but people have worse injuries, people have bigger accidents.' So don't get me wrong, I also tried to reality check myself through it all, and I think that's what made me quite, like remain quite positive."

TC: "You missed five races, you came back for Austin. Was there any talk of you getting back earlier, maybe for Qatar?"

DR: "So I knew, I was doing physio every day, and I was, I was doing what I could to come back as soon as possible. But I also wanted to make sure, and I think, you know, Red Bull/Alpha Tauri were really good with this, I wasn't fighting for a world championship, like it's not like, dude you need to just drive through immense pain and just get a point, you know because this is your titles on the line. Like it was, let's make sure you do this and heal properly, and get the right treatment, because also you've got, hopefully a second part of your career which is going to be long and glorious. So it was just, don't compromise anything that you then have a bum hand for the next two years of your career, three years, whatever. So it was good, I could just do it properly."

DR: "Qatar was talked about, I went on the sim the week of Qatar, on the Monday, but I couldn't, er, yet, drive with the full force of the steering, like so we would like bring the feedback down. Er, I just couldn't grip it and do more than like two laps at full strength. So it was very clear that Qatar was out of the question, and also for me to come back and like, yeah, I don't know, not drive at my best and then, no, that no one benefits. I don't benefit, the team doesn't. So er, it was that, at that point we're like, let's just go all in for Austin and make sure I'm good for that."

TC: "And Liam was doing a decent job as well"

DR: "Exactly, he was doing well and there was also, I think Red Bull were great to give me a contract whilst I was injured, to give me a contract for next year. So I, I had that-"

TC: "That was very significant, wasn't it?" "Yeah" "They actually signed you long-term when you were on the sidelines?"

DR: "Yeah, there's so much about being back in the Red Bull family this year that's felt good and right, and I think that was such a, yeah just such like a big thing for them to do that. I think obviously it showed they have a lot of faith in me. It also put to bed if anyone was like, 'oh you know, is there still any issues from their previous relationship years ago? Like is there any carryover tension or whatever?' Like, for them to do that, I think it was very much like, he's our kid and we're going to support him because we believe in him and- So that was really nice."

TC: "So you come back for Austin, and were there any ill effects there? Because I mean, that's a quick track, sector one in particular."

DR: "Er, no, like in, in short no. Erm, I think the race, I got into it quickly and, and, and I was actually honestly expecting more pain in Austin. I was expecting like every kind of bump or kerb I'd hit would be like 'ow, ow, ow.' But it was okay, and erm, I think it was just an endurance I needed to build so like, towards the end of the race, I could feel like my grip strength was maybe not as good as at the start of the race. But honestly, I was, I was fine. And I think that was another thing, I didn't want to get back into a race and then be like, 'yeah I could have done better, but you know, my hand was not up to full strength.' Or like, I was like, this can't be an excuse, and it wasn't, so it was all good."

TC: "And Daniel, you were never going to miss Austin, right?"

DR: "No, I couldn't. I would've loved the result to be better, but no, I couldn't miss Austin.

TC: "The track, the place"

DR: "Yeah, yeah. I love it."

[majorshatterandhare]

Today I, an aromantic, was getting ready to attend a wedding… with Stranger on repeat.

[roaringheat]

I am like actually fuckin shocked that Molly was the one to sell out the gang like....girl.....holy shit....

[madelynn-sienna]

coney island p. I (max verstappen x reader)

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★ prompt: ❛❛ what's a lifetime of achievement? if I pushed you to the edge? ❜❜ ★ pairing : max verstappen x reader ★ face claim : lily collins (+ one picture of kelly piquet and margot robbie each) ★ genres : angst ★ a/n : this will be a two-part hurt/comfort story inspired by the song coney island. be rest assured while this half is quite sad, the second half will make up for the angst and we will get a happy max x yn ending! also, per some creative liberty i took, max is only 23 years old here (he started racing in 2019, won his first gp in 2021 and was in school with the reader before he dropped out to pursue racing full time). ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

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liked by yourinstagram, redbullracing, landonorris and others

maxverstappen simply lovely race 🏆 what an amazing weekend and victory in jeddah, thank you all for your incredible support 🇸🇦

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yourinstagram another fabulous performance #mv01 🔥🔥🔥

redbullracing incredibly strong race today, a 1-2 finish is all we could have asked for 💙

user1 tu tu tu du max verstappen! user2 fastest pit stop too.

yourinstagram made me so proud max, ik houd van je 💕

maxverstappen ik hou ook van jou mijn liefste ❤️ user3 they said they loved each other in dutch. user4 he also called her 'his sweetheart' 🥹 user5 max and yn are literally the it couple on the circuit rn. user6 right? three time world champion and a bestselling author. user7 they so need to make a movie about it. user8 or a book, imagine a twisted lies style drama 😭

ruthbuscombe the strategy 💯

landonorris congrats mate!

maxverstappen thanks. user9 we're waiting for a win from you too lando! user10 this aged well haha

schecoperez ¡bien hecho!

user11 presenting our four time world champion everyone!

user12 we're only on the second race of the season 😭 user13 i mean if last year's anything to by, that's enough.

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text exchanges between yn & max dated 23/07, 02/08 and 04/08.

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yourinstagram it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one...

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user1 faster than the flying dutchman?

user2 yoo-hoo, @.maxverstappen where are you? user3 right? like he's usually the first one here...

carmenmmmundt happy birthday🥂

danielricciardo happy 21 yn 🍾

user4 why isn't max in the pictures?

user5 he's been busy with the belgian gp! user6 dude, that finished on sunday — it's the next saturday. user7 he's prolly just really stressed, he hasn't won since canada. user8 yeah, but yn through him a massive party last year. user9 so? circumstances were different... she isn't busy 24/7. user10 she literally has a job.

alexandrasaintmleux belle fille❣️

charlesleclerc joyeux anniversaire 🎉

user11 that caption's giving me bad vibes...

user12 me too! user13 its from all too well, that's such a sad song 😭 user14 i wonder why she chose it? user15 this better not be a sign.

user16 seriously? where is max, it's been 24 hours...

user17 check their stories, they're like done done. user18 nooooooooo😭 user19 she gave so many signs...

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yourinstagram added to their story. maxverstappen added to their story.

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liked by charlesleclerc, redbullracing, landonorris and others

maxverstappen 5 wins in 5 races - thank you for your support in monza, baku, singapore, texas and sao paulo. you've made me happier than you know, happier than i've ever been before.

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user1 he really do be out here pretending he didn't break yn's heart.

user2 of course, he needs to maintain his bravado. user3 otherwise people, and he will realise, he messed up. user4 i can't believe he's trying to snub our girl yn.

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liked by visacashapprb, schecoperez, maxverstappen and others

redbullracing max verstappen wins the world drivers championship 2024, after an outstanding race at the las vegas street circuit that leaves him at with a 62 point lead in the standings ❤️ 💛 💙

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user1 max, max, max, super max, max

user2 tu tu tu du max verstappen user3 i called it! i said he'd win the wdc back in jeddah 🏆

user4 were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? happy birthday.

user5 of course, he just painted yn's bluest skies the darkest grey. user6 you are getting pressed for a breakup you know zero about! user7 max literally said it in his interviews and his statement. user8 they broke up because he was too busy. user9 ergo, he wasn't there for her, not even on her birthday!

lewishamilton amazing work - congratulations max

user10 what a goat ❤️

danielricciardo maaaax verstappennnnn! four time world champion.

user11 why'd I read that like pierrreeee gaslyyyyy? user12 me too😭 daniel's an icon.

fernandoalonso ¡muchas felicidades!

user13 real question here is, what's a lifetime of achievement?

user14 especially when he pushed her to the edge. user15 right like did you see her in miami, she looked so sad😭 user16 we all know she was just too nice too leave. user17 i'd have dumped his ass ages ago.

user17 definition of a LEGEND

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f1 🚩 Red flag in the Abu Dhabi as Max Verstappen suffers a huge crash. The medical rescue team is currently trying to get the Red Bull driver away the resultant debris and fire as safely as possible.

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[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

[landograndprix]

woman ✾ l.n - viii

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ being in love is hard when there's people trying to sabotage it but they aren't aware of the strong bond you and lando have formed over the last few weeks.

❧ lads (gn), I'm so sorry it takes me ages to update this fic pls forgive me :( omce again, spelling mistakes add 🌟 character 🌟 charles' a lil weird and these fans can suck my **** 🥰 verstappen!reader.

❧ prev part – next part

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y/nverstappen posted to their story

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y/nverstappen

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 81,564 others

y/nverstappen celebrating iris' 31st the right way ♥️

tagged: irisxo, martingarrix

view all 1,654 comments

irisxo best birfday baby 😘

↳ y/nverstappen ♥️♥️

maxmaxmax my favorite party animals <3

charleslec lmao time to act like adults then?

↳ norry4 life doesn't end after 25 💀

hamilt44n man y'all so pressed about older women living their lives lmfao just say your jealous

verstappenmax my favorite people

mrsnorris am I the only one who thinks her and martin are together?

landitonorris at least she's not in monza bothering lando lol

↳ norstappen not to burst your bubble but max pretty much said he's flying to ibiza with lando after the race 🥰

landitonorris when did he say this?

norstappen in a dutch interview yesterday

landitonorris oh well as long as she stays away from lando 😇

norstappen lmao why, you think you have a chance with him or something?

norry4 honestly hope they get caught making our or something just to upset y'all fake fans even more 💀

versthappenm don't listen to the haters bestie, we still love you ❤️

charlesgirlies 31 and still not settled down, maybe iris should focus on that instead of partying all the time 🤡

↳ carlandooo pretty sad you have to go and talk shit about y/n AND her friends just because she talks to charles, you're the clown here 🤡

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y/nverstappen posted on their story

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc

You're in Monaco again?

y/nverstappen

Yes

charles_leclerc

hanging out with Max?

y/nverstappen

Yes

charles_leclerc

And lando? 😉

y/nverstappen

You think I don't know what you did?

what do you want from me charles?

charles_leclerc

alright, I'm sorry..can we talk?

y/nverstappen

nah don't think that's necessary

it was never anything serious and never will be anything serious.

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Woman taglist @hockeyboysarehot @beatricemiruna @starwarssavy23 @be-your-coffee-pot @thecubanator2 @ironmaiden1313 @hanniesdawn @leclercdream @alexandralibbre @elliegrey2803 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @laneyspalding19 @whoreks @cha-hot @luciaexcorvus @emma34501 @sunny44 @roseseraj @goldenharrysworld @18754389 @graciewrote

[alpaca-clouds]

How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

[omgwhatchloe]

sometimes you need a break from sad and need to imagine modern au gang having a nice picnic in which they did not invite dutch or micah (who is convincing dutch hes being betrayed right now)im thinking

dutch: they’re probably all out there now…talking to those agents…taking the bribes…

then the camera cuts to arthur sketching bill and cain, who are playing at the other side of the field

hosea is aggressively applying sunscreen to sean because he wont put it on himself

lenny is reading and accidentally eating all the baby tomatoes that are meant for sandwiches

tilly and marybeth are making daisy chains while karen is asleep

john and jack are also asleep and john has wrapped his arms around jack, whos on his chest (abigail has taken 105 pictures and counting). they’ll be knocked out the whole time, they ate so much cookies and cheese and chips/crisps and cakes and sandwiches it was inevitable.

charles is laying on arthur and watching him sketch. hes not asleep though, hes just resting his eyes, trust me.

molly applied her sunscreen and is now getting the tan she deserves. she wonders why she feels so much calmer without dutch there.

there were horses in the nearby field so. you know what kierans up too.

after being attacked with sunscreen (hes irish and ginger, its for his own good) seans making his eighth sandwich with all the toppings. hes also telling everyone about when him and his da would go for picnics, and they find it quite wholesome so they dont stop him until he gets tearful.

sadie is eating strawberries and praying a horse kicks kieran or the farmer shoots him.

javier brought his guitar but hes eating, so he’ll play later. he cant even tell a story because his mouth is full of so much cookie.

miss grimshaw is protecting the food with her life from the pesky ants, seans legs when he constantly gets up and down, and lenny.

strauss is making the most ungodly food combos, he also had a picnic 20-30 years ago that ended in absolute trauma, so he’ll be sure to fill the gang in on that. lovely change from seans story.

uncle wasn’t invited. hes asleep somewhere in the field because he came anyway. he also took a box of cookies. (arthur thinks hes going crazy because he swore he bought another box but its nowhere to be found)

reverend is admiring the scenery, he finds it a good distraction for the early days of staying sober.

abigail is playing photographer for her kind of big instagram following shes not meant to have.

[meazalykov]

Salma or Selma?

Salma Paralluelo x BarcaPlayer!R x Selma Bacha

Warnings: angst, anger/sadness, cheating, betrayal, author making up future champions league results for the plot so please don't bully me if things go differently irl, long chapter

The last few months were a whirlwind of emotions for Y/n L/n. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, an unsettling sensation that gnawed at her insides like a persistent itch. Despite the facade she tried to maintain, there were moments when doubt crept in, casting a shadow over her once happy and carefree personality. 

Y/n found herself second-guessing every word that came out of Salma Paralluelo’s mouth. A year ago, Salma and Y/n started dating. This boosted the joy in the 20 year old’s life.

She found warmth in Salma's touch and a kindness in her gaze that made her feel cherished and adored. She thought highly of Salma, being there for her when she won the World Cup, despite her own country being eliminated in the Round of 16. 

On the field, outside of their relationship, they’re a duo in Barcelona that couldn't be stopped by the opposition defenders. Y/n is a left winger while Salma was mainly positioned as a striker. The amount of goals and assists they’ve given each other boosted their playing confidence more. 

Overtime, the colors in the sky turned cloudy.

When Salma wasn’t with Y/n outside of football, the Spanish girl was with the goalkeeper on their team, Cata. This didn’t concern Y/n at first, the girl had trust in Salma and building bonds with teammates is important. Salma knew Cata before she knew Y/n anyways. 

Eventually, small things started to creep up onto Y/n’s mind. Salma and Cata had small inside jokes together. The duo were affectionate, which Y/n didn’t mind at first because that behavior isn’t uncommon in Spain.

Y/n suspicions were confirmed once she noticed Salma starting to ditch her to hang out with Cata, almost everyday. 

Salma promised that she is helping Cata with a recent breakup. Y/n wanted to press further but didn’t. The girl knew that other close friends on the team, Esmee or Ingrid for example, would tell her if they suspected something with Salma and Cata too. 

Though she desperately tried to dismiss her suspicions as paranoia, the nagging feeling persisted, festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to scab and heal. With each passing day, as Salma continued to ditch their plans, Y/n's unease grew. And little did she know, the tempest of betrayal that awaited her would challenge everything she thought she knew about love and trust.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Y/n yelled as she turned into a hallway at Johan Cruyff stadium. She walked with Esmee Brugts, happy about their win against SK Brann. Now, she stood as her heart sank into her stomach, shattered in a million pieces. 

Cata had her arms around Salma as the girl kissed down her neck, stopping once she heard the scream of her actual girlfriend. Salma jumped away, pushing Cata before looking right at Y/n, not knowing what to say at first. 

“So this is w-why you we-were ditching me?” Y/n’s voice broke.

The left winger started to panic. For a second, it felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The suspicions she had were real and weren't just a story she made up. Esmee noticed her panic, she gently pulled Y/n’s arm and turned her away from the cheater and the goalkeeper before things got worse. 

“Y/n wait-” 

“Not now.” The Dutch cut Salma off, looking at her with sadness and slight disappointment, before pulling Y/n away from what occurred. Esmee couldn’t believe what her friend was capable of too. 

The team didn’t find out what had happened. Y/n, Esmee, Salma, and Cata only knew. A week later, Salma showed up to Y/n’s apartment. She begged for another chance and mentioned that she cut Cata off. Y/n didn’t respond to her pleas for a couple of hours while Salma begged in her apartment.  

Eventually, Y/n took Salma back. With a heavy heart and a tentative embrace, Y/n chose to believe in the possibility of redemption. She missed Salma’s presence and allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth of Salma's embrace once more.

The American international didn’t let the Spanish girl come back without promises though. She told Salma that she couldn’t talk to Cata outside of football, not mention what happened to anyone except for who already knew (Esmee and Cata obviously), and not to ditch her again. Salma smiled and agreed. 

For a month, things between the two looked the same from an outsider's perspective. They would’ve said that Y/n and Salma looked extremely happy with each other. Y/n scored 4 goals against Chelsea in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Finals. Salma had the brightest smile as she hugged her girlfriend. 

However, the scars of betrayal ran deep. Y/n never let the betrayal between Salma and Cata go. When Cata tried to congratulate her on her goal, Y/n just walked by her, saying “Thanks.” No hug or high five. 

Sometimes, she wonders if they’re still interested in each other. Y/n hopes she's not in the way of any possible feelings between the Spanish girls. 

Barcelona and Chelsea still have to compete in the second leg of the Semi-Final, but Y/n believed that Lyon and Barcelona will go head-to-head in the Champions League Final. Lyon is facing PSG in the Semi-Final but they've won the first leg 4-1.

Y/n is excited about a possible Champions League final, last year she won the final against Wolfsburg because of her goal that pushed Barcelona up 3-2 in the second half. 

A day after she got back from London, Y/n went out to celebrate with a few friends who came to Spain, from America, to visit her. Salma didn’t come with her to meet her friends because she wanted to go to a gym session instead, which Y/n believed. 

(Pretend this is you in these pictures below) 

y/n.l/n

tagged: urbestie

liked by selma_bacha, malpugh, and 44,927 others

americans in espana 🇪🇸🌞

comments

salmaparalluelo 😍😍

malpugh you're so cute

wososoccer478 she hasn't posted with salma in nearly 8 months 🥴

leahlover8 I noticed that! They're still together in fcbfemeni training pictures so they're okay I believe

aitanabonmati ☺️

esmeebrugts no invite? 😧🇳🇱

y/n.l/n next time Es I promise!

wosotranfernews the best friendship ^

----

A few hours after she posted on Instagram, Y/n got home to her apartment and took off her sandals. She placed her sandals right by the door before walking to her living room and laying down on top of her comfortable ivory couch.

She pulled her phone out of her brown leather bag, clicking on the lock button to see no notifications from Salma. Y/n heart started to race but she ignored it when she saw the sole notification on the phone from Instagram. 

selma_bacha 

hey 

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she stared at the notification on the pink iphone. She knew the french player who currently played at Lyon. Even though she is confused, she is intrigued too. Why is Selma reaching out to her, and why now? Selma and Y/n followed each other three years ago but haven’t talked until now. 

y/n.l/n 

hey. how are you?

The Barcelona player typed out a response, waiting for the response from the girl behind the screen. 

----

When y/n looked up at her phone, she noticed that it was twenty minutes past midnight. She got home from dinner with friends around nine. The conversation she had with Selma lasted three hours. The American scrolled down on her phone to see if she had notifications from her girlfriend Salma. 

None. 

The girl decided to give Salma the benefit of the doubt, despite her past cheating. Y/n continued to text the French girl for a few minutes before they’ve both decided to call it a night. 

selma_bacha 

goodnight 

y/n.l/n 

goodnight 

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as a message from Selma illuminated her phone screen. The simple message might be nothing to others but to Y/n, it held a power within them. It had been so long since Salma had taken the time to bid her goodnight or good morning, even though they’ve been together for 14 months. The gesture from Selma touched Y/n in a way she couldn't quite explain. 

The American took a shower, changed into her night clothes, and laid in her bedroom in the quiet darkness, her thoughts drifting back to her conversation with the Lyon player. Talking to her felt so easy. Sometime in the conversion, their typed messages turned into audio messages and their shared laughter after their jokes made y/n happy in the absence of her girlfriend. At that moment, Y/n knew that she needed to talk to Selma more. She had so much in common with the Lyon player and their sense of humor aligned. 

-----

A month has gone by and Y/n was right, Lyon and Barcelona would be facing in the Champions League final. She felt a wave of excited emotions, knowing that this will be her second final with the team.

In the second leg against Chelsea, Y/n scored a hat trick and Caroline Graham Hansen scored the fourth goal. The game ended in a 4-2 win. The WSL team was sent home and Y/n felt bad as one of her USWNT teammates played for twenty minutes against her.

Salma and Y/n started to drift apart and the team started to question it. Aitana asked Y/n one day if things were okay, Y/n lied and said yes.

The Spanish girlfriend started to ditch her American girlfriend again. However, things were different this time. Y/n felt her heart go elsewhere as Salma abandoned her.

Over the month, Y/n engaged in everyday conversations with the Left-Back at Lyon. Selma and her had a few FaceTime calls and they're compatible in many ways.

Y/n started to question everything. She wanted to distance from Salma so she can figure out her feelings, but they're on the same team. At training, Salma found herself close with y/n so avoidance wasn't ideal. The American knew that she will see Selma in the Champions League final so she couldn't avoid her too.

In the quiet solitude of her plant and pink covered room, with the gentle hum of the Barcelona town outside her window, Y/n looked through her camera roll. She scrolled through her "Lover girl" album, which contained pictures of Salma and her together. Y/n felt her heart sink as she stopped at the last picture, clicking on the date to see that she didn't update the album since the night she caught Salma cheating on her with Cata.

Clicking off of the album, she went through her other folders to see many screenshots from her FaceTime calls with Selma Bacha. Y/n blushed as she saw Selma doing silly things on the calls, like (jokingly) getting angry over their Fifa games or making silly frowning faces .

Y/n's heart ached with the weight of indecision, torn between the familiar comfort of Salma and the extreme chemistry with Selma. Each possessed qualities that spoke to different parts of her soul, Salma with her history and shared memories, and Selma with her vibrant energy, admiration, and newfound connection.

As she wrestled with her thoughts, Y/n knew that the choice she made would shape the course of her future, a decision not just about love, but about her career and the kind of person she wanted to be.

Y/n exploded her bottled emotions onto her friend, Lindsey, from back home. Yes, Lindsey Horan from her International team that played for Lyon. The same Lindsey that knew Selma just as much as she knew Y/n.

"You know what they say. If there's two people in your life, pick the second one. Since there would've never been a second choice if you loved the first one enough." Lindsey said over the FaceTime. Yn laughed at how "corny" the saying is.

"I love Salma, Lindsey. However, I can't go on with this if I can't trust her." Y/n frowned.

"You shouldn't go on with her either if you want Selma involved with your future too. It sounds like Salma might leave you for Cata soon. No offense, I just need you to hear the truth before it happens..." Lindsey added on. Y/n took a deep breath, processing the blondes valid points.

"How do you know if Selma likes me?"

"Oh she likes you a lot. She's mentioned it to the team multiple times. Selma is just waiting on you to let Salma go." Lindsey confessed.

"I can't just break up with Salma. She'll move on to Cata and it'll break up the team's dynamics. It happened with a love triangle here before." Y/n explained, referring to the love triangle between Lucy Keira and Ona.

"Lyon is interested in you. Everyone involved in the transfer markets knows they want to activate your release clause. They just need your approval-- and maybe you can come here for a new start." Lindsey suggested. Y/n nodded at the possibility. She could leave Barcelona, leaving Cata and Salma to be together and she could be closer to Selma. Plus, Lyon is a big club like Barcelona so it's a good career move.

----

The tension hung heavy in the air as Barcelona squared off against Lyon in the electrifying Champions League final. The crowd's roars echoing like thunder in Y/n's ears as she stepped onto the field, her heart pounding in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the game.

At the first sight of Selma Bacha, y/n felt nervous. Nobody knew how she felt about her except for Lindsey, who is one of Lyon's midfielders currently. The Barcelona left winger took Lindsey’s suggestion into consideration and she has a few plans for her career after this final. 

During halftime, the game is 2-2. Caroline Graham Hansen scored a brace so far along with Becho having a brace for Lyon. The atmosphere is intense as there is another fourty-five minutes left. For Y/n, amidst the chaos of her thoughts, there lingered a deeper, more insidious feeling: guilt. 

She knew that she was breaking up with Salma after the season ended. Y/n never confronted Salma about seeing her talking to Cata secretly again before the match. The left-winger knows she is in the way of the two Spanish girls who want to be together. In consideration of her love for Salma, she decided that she will break up with her after the season ends rather than now. 

The girl wouldn't have to worry about the pre-season and the next season afterwards in Barcelona. Y/n talked with her agent and Lyon agreed to activate her release clause and will offer her a contract on the first day the transfer window opens in the summer. 

As the minutes ticked away and the score remained deadlocked, the pressure mounted, threatening to suffocate Y/n beneath its weight. Yes, she is facing her future club, but she is with Barcelona for now and wants to win with them for one last time. She had an energy driving her to push herself harder, to fight with every fiber of her being. When Salma scored a stunning goal in the 67th minute, by Y/n’s assist bringing the score up 3-2, the crowd exploded. 

Salma runs to the corner and celebrates with her usual “4 fingers'' symbol. Afterwards, she turns around and immediately holds her hands out to hug Y/n. The American sighed before smiling lightly, hugging her girlfriend tightly and pulled her face down on Salma’s shoulder. The news media and their shippers talk about this on social media, believing that they aren't broken up like rumors suspected. 

The girl inhaled Salma’s vanilla scent before looking into Salma’s eyes, pulling away before letting the rest of the team hug her. She frowned as she walked away, knowing that it might be the last time she will hug her soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. 

Y/n walks away towards the left side to see Selma, on the Lyon side, looking at her. The French player smirked before looking away, making the American girl blush. 

Selma had a feeling that Y/n will join her in Lyon after this season. The girl gave too many hints on their late night facetimes calls about “being able to see each other all of the time soon.” She knew Salma and Y/n were done, due to suspected cheating from the Spanish, so she didn’t feel badly about her flirtatious moves. 

Just when victory seemed within Barcelona’s grasp, fate intervened with a cruel twist of irony. Just two minutes after Salma’s goal for Barcelona, Lyon’s forward Diani passes the ball through the Barcelona box and Horan taps the ball into the net, right past Cata’s hands. 

The French crowd explodes as Horan runs to the corner of the box, yelling as she pumps her fist into the air in celebration. Y/n looks on at her USWNT captain, who looked so happy to score her goal with the Division 1 Feminine team. 

In the 85th minute, Ingrid Engen dribbled the ball up the field before seeing Aitana who was free to receive a pass. The ball goes up over the players before Aitana jumps up and hits it with her head. The ball flies up again before landing on Esmee’s boot. The Dutch “nutmegs” the ball through a Lyon defender before passing to Y/n. The American dribbles quickly through Selma Bacha before shooting the ball. As the ball goes through Endler’s legs, Y/n screams in excitement. Goal!

Barcelona 4-3

In the dying moments of the game, Selma's team managed to break through Barcelona’s defense, scoring a last-minute goal from Le Sommer that left Y/n reeling in disbelief. As the 90 minutes appeared on the watches on the referees wrists, 6 minutes of extra time were added to the board. 

4-4

Y/n looks over at her coach Jona, seeing that he wants the team to play defensively. A few minutes pass but it’s anyone's game. Y/n couldn’t break through the Lyon midfield when she had the ball a few times. 

She passes the ball down to Aitana, and the ballon d’or winner passes the ball down to Ingrid, who passes the ball back down to Cata who launches the ball across the field towards Claudia Pina.

Claudia and Selma both go up and try to head the ball towards a teammate. The Lyon player was successful and the ball landed on Horan’s boot. Y/n runs up to challenge the other American but Lindsey passes it to her striker before Y/n reaches her. 

Marta challenges Hegerburg who quickly dribbles around her. Ona goes to challenge the Lyon striker before pushing her inside of the penalty box, ruining the potential goal scoring opportunity. Almost all 22 players on the pitch ran to the ref, debating on the challenge as “just a foul” “tir de pénalité” “el desafío está fuera de la caja” and much more. The referee contacts the VAR room with their mini microphone before blowing the whistle. Lyon Penalty.  

Hegerburg, not injured by Ona’s contact, goes to take the penalty. Y/n felt her lungs close in as the crowd erupts in screams and whistles. She knew there was a minute left. If the Lyon striker makes the shot, Lyon wins the Champions League unless a miracle occurred. 

Y/n’s hands covered her face in disappointment as Hegerburg’s goal went behind the net. Cata moved to the left to block the shot when the hard shot went to the right. 

All of the Lyon players dressed in their Blue away jerseys ran to the corner and celebrated the penalty. The players on the bench even ran and screamed to celebrate the penalty. 

4-5

Not a single opportunity occurred for Barcelona before the final whistles blew. The scoreboard flashed 4-5 in favor of Selma's team. The Lyon players screamed as they all jumped on each other in joy. A wave of devastation washed over Y/n, the bitter taste of defeat staining her lips as she bit on them, trying not to cry in front of thousands of people. 

Yet, amidst the heartbreak and despair, there was a deeper wound that cut to the core of Y/n’s heart. At the moment, she stood alone on the pitch as other Barcelona players fell onto their knees in sadness, some clapped for their fans while having tears in their eyes, Ona ran away into the dressing room so she didn’t have to face the fans who were angry with her last minute mistake. 

At first, she thought about her girlfriend who is experiencing the loss too. She looked around to seek solace in Salma's embrace. She stood in the same spot with her hands on her hips as she continued to bite on her plump lips. 

What Y/n saw shattered her heart into a million pieces when she realized that Salma wasn’t looking for her. Instead, she watched in silent agony as Salma rushed to Cata's side. Cata sat on the grass and cried as Salma whispered affirmations in her ear. It looked so intimate. In that moment, as tears welled in Y/n's eyes and the weight of her loneliness, she knew that the scars of this defeat ran deeper than any she had ever known.

The American in the white away kit fell onto the grass and let all of her warm tears flow down her dimpled cheeks. She didn’t care who saw it and if pictures would be taken. Y/n’s suppressed feelings about her suspicions were confirmed. Salma chose Cata. In her worst moment, she wanted Cata’s comfort and not her own “girlfriend.” 

Y/n, in the back of her mind, knew that she was done with Salma. She couldn’t speak to her after this. She left her alone in the worst moment while she comforted the girl she committed infidelity with. 

The girl cried for a few minutes, feeling alone in this dark moment, before she felt the embrace of four arms around her body. She couldn’t see who it was, since she laid flat on the grass with her hands covering her face. 

“Y/n, You did amazing out there!” The American in the Barcelona jersey heard the voice of her USWNT captain, Lindsey. 

“No I didn’t” Y/n complained, ignoring her beautiful goal and two assists she made during the match.

“Y/n don’t speak about yourself like that. Shit you’re a good opponent!” Y/n froze and her tears seemed to stop flowing when she heard a familiar french accent. 

Y/n sat up from the grass, wiping her grass covered knees as Lindsey sat beside her. She turned and looked at Selma, this being their first interaction outside of the game, who wiped her tears with her thumbs. Selma patted Y/n’s puffy face afterwards before sitting right beside her, leaving no space. 

“I hope so.” Y/n replied a few seconds after Selma spoke last. 

“Congratulations guys.” Y/n continued as she looked back and forth between her friend and the girl who is more than a friend. 

“Thank you. You were kicking our ass for a good half.” Selma laughed, she wrapped her arm around Y/n’s lower back as the Barcelona player moved her head to Selma’s shoulder. Y/n laughed in response. 

“No literally. I can’t wait to see that when I play with you this summer.” Lindsey agreed. Y/n smiled in reminder of making it on the USWNT olympic roster with her. 

“You guys shouldn’t waste your time comforting me. Go celebrate!” Y/n laughed through her dry tears and pointed towards the Lyon teammates who were currently celebrating. She looked around to see Esmee, her best friend at Barcelona, being comforted by some of her Oranje teammates that played for Lyon which made her smile. Y/n knows she will miss her the most when she leaves.

“Who said we are wasting time? The celebration and trophy setup isn't ready for another ten minutes. We have time to be here for you— and we want to be here with you” Selma held Y/n tighter. 

Despite her own triumph, Selma's concern was solely for Y/n, offering a comforting embrace that felt similar to medicine curing a cold. In that moment, as Y/n leaned into Selma's embrace, she felt her heart soften, her realization being proven stronger with this moment. It was Selma who was there for her, Selma who offered solace and understanding, Selma who held the key to her heart for the last few months. The left-winger’s heart chooses Selma and will move to play for Lyon. 

The media picked up on Salma and Y/n going to comfort other people after the game, which caused their fans to explode in speculation. When pictures of Selma Bacha holding Y/n L/n came out in the media, Lyon and Barcelona fans were shocked before being supportive. When Salma and Cata hard-launched their relationship, fans were shocked too.

The girls never confirmed their breakup publicly, even though Y/n and Salma mutually broke up after the Champions League final. However, they both publicly moved onto their new girlfriends and Y/n moved away to play for the Lyon team, enjoying her new life with Selma Bacha.

an: hope you enjoyed! I'm sad that the barcelona men's team lost the quarter final of the champion's league 😣

[zae-heeyyy]

Pastiche

Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader Word Count: 2,345 Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur

a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.

You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it.  He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.

"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.

Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.

"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.

"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.

You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.

He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."

You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.

 "Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"

"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"

You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."

He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."

 "I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."

"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.

Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?" 

"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.

"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully. 

From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea. 

"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you. 

You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.  

"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.

Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering. 

"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside. 

"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him. 

Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.

Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.

Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame. 

Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything. 

"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.

"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."

He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself." 

You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words. 

"No, Arthur. No."

You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.

"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.

First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.  

Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.  

Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.

"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.

"Keep visiting Big Valley.

Keep writing.

Publish the book.

Watch every sunset.

Trust your gut.

Please, be happy."

You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.

You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them. 

On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day. 

You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."

[heavenlymorals]

I feel like a lot of people forget that the Van Dir Linde gang was actually famous in their universe- Dutch Van Dir Linde was as famous as the real life Butch Cassidy. The gang had as much infamy as the Wild Bunch or the Dalton gang. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Bill Williamson, Javier Esculla, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith, Sean McGuire and more were probably as famous as the real life Doc Holliday, Jesse James, Black Bart, Rufus Buck, Ike Clanton, the Sundance Kid, Wild Bill Hickock, and more.

Sadie Adler would've been just as famous. She was a gunslinger like the real life Calamity Jane and Anne Oakley and she was an outlaw at one point like Laura Bullion, Pearl Hart, Belle Star, The Cassidy Sisters, and more.

The other women of the camp would've probably been less popular but still very intriguing figures to people in the future.

In the newspapers, we see that there are songs about Dutch's boys and books too. Trelawny mentions them being on dime novels. In the future, the pieced together story of the Van Dir Linde gang might've gotten adapted into a movie, similar to "Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid" or "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". They could've gotten biopics, documentaries, and more.

Historians and fans of the wild West era would dig up records, find pictures, and maybe even track down people who were apart of the gang, accomplices to the gang, or victims of the gang. They would try to piece together stories to figure out the mystery of what actually happened to the gang.

People would argue over things that happened in the gang and have their evidence to back it up. Letters written by gang members would become so valuable. If they ever someone come across Arthur's journal, it would probably be considered one of the most valuable pieces of documentation to ever exist for that time period.

The guns of the gang would probably be kept in museums if found. Albert Mason's portrait of Arthur Morgan would be found in history books, same as other pictures.

Dutch would probably be a very controversial figure in history- some would hail him as a failed hero and others would condemn his violence no matter the reason- they wouldn't know what the people in the gang knew- especially in the end. Same with the rest of the gang members.

They'd probably all get romanticized. Hosea and Dutch's friendship, the raising of the boys, Dutch and Annabelle and his fued with Colm, Mary and Arthur, John and his family, Javier being a revolutionary- no one would know the full story.

And then there is Jack- he may live to see the 1960s and 70s and 80s. He may have grandchildren who'd pull him into a theater to watch a retelling of the gang that he was a part of at one point. He'd be amused. He'd think that the actor playing his father was too clean looking, too pretty. He'd think that the movie Arthur was too skinny. He'd think that the man playing Dutch had a funny voice as he tried to mimic the accent. He'd laugh and make notes in his head of the historical accuracy. He'd feel sorrowful at the deaths of the characters- he knew them at some point. And no one at the theater would know that the old man with the rowdy bright eyed boys who brought him there was Jack Marston, the last of the Van Dir Linde gang.

Jack might talk about it to the public. He might do interviews. He might even write a book about his father, the infamous John Marston. Those would be priceless. Even Beecher's Hope might be kept around and visited as a historical site for history goers.

And honestly? It is such a bittersweet thing.

[maskedteaser]

I feel you about rdr2, I feel like I'm walking through a desert with no water😭

But if you don't mind me requesting something...

Maybe Sean or Kieran (or whoever you want, I'm fine with anybody) with a crush on s/o who's just an absolute ray of sunshine and they're too nervous to ask s/o out because of this

hii! i'm so glad to be able to do my first request ever! hope you like it! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes - english is not my first language! requests are open. Sorry it took so long to write - it is like...my second time writing an actual thing with plot in english! [not proofread i'm sorry i cringed too hard when i tried to read it] CW: none? i think? mentions of alcohol if you squint in javier's part the spanish petnames he uses are feminine(?) but i think there is no other use of any gender comfirming things so i guess it's gender neutral reader fic? ALSO THEY ARE PROBABLY OOC IM SO SORRY :((( 05.06.2024. signed TEASER 📺 [ BANNERS ARE MADE BY ME! ]

SEAN MACGUIRE

You were ethereal in his eyes. Always shining, blooming, filling every space you were in with joy and feeling of safety. Soft hair sparkling in the sun, pupils always wandering around, looking for a sad soul to cheer up. Hands in the air, moving around uncontrollably when you tried to tell a story, gesturing the things that you were imagining. Truly mesmerising, he felt like he just had to have you, but his every attempt at flirting with you was just taken as a joke, rewarded by a small smile from you, a little giggle, and it broke his heart, making it rush at the same time.

But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Impatient and so obvious with his emotions. Expressive, always made it known when he felt good or bad, when he was falling apart (which was a really rare sigh anyways) or his heart was full of passion. But you made it easy to feel euphoric and then send him to the lowest mental state he could ever be. He couldn't wait to tell you how he wanted you to be his and only his, but for some reason - you were always busy, someone always wanted to talk with you, stealing your attencion. And when you were free, he was too stunned to speak. That never happened in his entire life! His never ending monologue, his mouth that was always talking, everything stopped. Sean MacGuire smiled, excused himself for bothering you and left, leaving you confused but a smile didn't leave your soft lips. He was sitting alone, planning a new way to confess to you. Never in his life would he admit that he was, simply but truly, scared. Of rejection? Maybe. Or of the fact that you might take it as a joke. That would be even worse in his eyes. Sean suddenly remembered the fact that Arthur one day came up to him and asked about his relationship with you, he said that it was so horrendously obvious that he likes you, that he's sweet on you, but he also told him that he might be too simple for you. Too straightforward but at the same time - not cultured enough. Bascially telling him that he might be too dumb for you, straight into his poor face, into his lost puppy eyes. The truth was that, in fact, Sean was just lost without you. With you around, he felt like a better version of himself. That's why he wanted you so badly. He asked Lenny to teach him to read, so he could become a well-read person for you. But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Abandoning his mission after only few pages. His impulsitivity took over, he decided that if he's not the one for you, it's better to know as soon as it's possible. In case he had to move on, in case you decide to break his young, so obsessed with you heart. Stealing Dutch's cologne, Lenny's good shirt and wearing his only pants that were clean and somehow not holey - he got ready for you. He even washed his hair in the river, using actual soap that one of the girls from the camp once gave him. What a sweetheart. His plans were suprisingly really detailed. Sean wanted to pick some flowers for you and ask you to go to the town with him, he wanted to mount his horse, see you mount yours and go. But his dreams and distant goals got interrupted by hearing your voice coming near his tent. — Sean! Javier was just asking if you... — you didn't finish your sentence. Halfway in his tent, you laid your eyes on him, clearly preparing for some event. A date? Maybe? How could you know? — Oh! Sean, you look really good! What happened? — you looked up, his soft hair, freshly washed, much more shinier, looking healthy for once. — you washed your hair, so it must be something big. — you added, smiling. It was semi-dark in his tent, light being casted only by a little lamp with a candle inside of it. So you couldn't see how his cheeks got redder when he heard your compliment. — well, I actually...You know... — he started, nervously, but who wouldn't be nervous in that kind of a situation? Being caught preparing for a date, that wasn't even accepted by the other side in the first place. — It is something big. — Sean's voice still had his iconic cheerfulness, but you could hear the little shakes in it as well. But you didn't interrupt, you listened. He took a deep breath and said quickly, his accent almost making it incomprehensible — I was wondering if you'd like to go to the town with me and maybe you know have a drink or two? Like a party, just the two of us, you know? Ay, yeah! Actually I also wanted to say that I really like you! Maybe love...Yeah, that might be a better word for that. I love ya. So? Would you like to go with me? — he looked up at you, his heart beating so fast, he could almost hear it. It's now up to you. Do you agree or not?

JAVIER ESCUELLA

Absolutely smitten with you. Sitting by the fireside on a warm night, you were situated at the opposite side of the fire, watching people that were finishing their chores around the camp. Your delicate presence, hair moved by wind, shining eyes. His mind was in a different place. Holding his guitar, trying to play and sing, but you were distracting. It was almost impossible to get him to the state that he forgot how to play, but with you around, he literally seemed like he just bought this intrument, constantly making little mistakes. Blood rushing to his cheeks every time he got out of rhythm or the sound his guitar made was closer to a scratch than to any melody. But you seemed to not mind, accepting him the way he was, quietly giggling, but not laughing at him, you were just so full of happiness, your gaze only encouraged him to keep playing and he loved it. Loved you. Badly.

But he felt like loving you was never enough, since you seemed to never actually acknowledge his feelings, the deep desire that made his dreams full of you. Everything reminded him of you. You joined the gang a few months ago, how could you fuck him up so badly in such a short period of time? Wrapped around your finger, willing to give you the entire world if you asked him to. He just knew that you'd never ask him to, you were just too...good. You never asked for help yourself, but always wanted to help others. Putting everyone above yourself, taking care of everyone, even Micah, who said so much bad things about you, spitting poison at you every time you walked by, but when he felt ill, you still was a first person to give him health cure.

Javier could only watch from afar. Fascinated, hypnotised by your moves, your energy, how your voice could put everyone in a good mood. When you were telling stories, you'd tell them with so much passion, but when someone else needed to be listened - you were all ears, asking questions, made everyone feel welcomed and safe. He sometimes really thought that you are not real, that you are an angel sent to the camp in those hard times.

Lost in his thoughts again, he missed a string while playing and his guitar made another weird sound. Immediately grounded by that, he looked in the direction you were sitting, only to realise - you were not there anymore. He started looking for you, and he saw that you were sitting next to him. How could he not notice? God, were his reflexes that poor? If it was a life threatening situation, he'd probably be dead by now.

— I noticed that you are a bit lonely here, Javier, — the way his name slipped of your lips so softly, how he'd kill to hear his name coming from that sweet mouth again and again, until he lost his senses. — Mind if I keep you company? You seem stressed, is something bothering you? — when he heard your voice, and your body getting a bit closer to him, his muscles tensed. He put his guitar away, gently, laying it on a ground, leaned it against the barrel that was near.

— what can I say, hermosa. — he sometimes called you Spanish pet names, because he was sure you didn't understand them (if you could, well, he was not aware...) — There is that one girl that completely took over my mind and I can't focus on anything else because of her. She's not even mine, but I'm jealous of everyone that makes her laugh. It's probably wrong, but it's the truth. She's like a milagro walking on this sad country, healing everyone with her presence, so I'm almost certain I don't deserve her, but oh...I can always dream, can't I? — he could swear you put a spell on him. He never meant to open up about his feelings, especially not around you, especially talking about you.

What a fool he was. He couldn't even manage to raise his eyes up to meet your gaze, so he was not able to see the sadness flicker in your face, soft sigh escaping your lips, which was a sign of your heart getting a bit broken, he taken it as a sign of stress and fatigue.

— do you want me to help you with asking her out? I'm a woman myself so I know what most of us like to do... — you said, and oh, he knew that it would happen. Your first thought when someone has a problem is to help them out, any way you can, no matter your own feelings and struggles.

— tell me...how your perfect date would look like? I think she's really similar to you, she might enjoy the same things. — he said, still nervous, his eyes locked on the ground.

So you started to talk about your perfect date. How you'd spend it, and his head was full of ideas by now. He knew exactly where to take you, what to do, so when you finished your monologue, he offered, finally looking up, making eye contact:

— are you free tonight, angelita? Your wish is my command. — his cheeks a bit red, the orange light from nearby fire slightly shining on his skin.

Not it was up to you if you'd like to go with him. What do you say?

KIERAN DUFFY

Oh, that poor boy. His heart couldn't take it. The only person that showed him any kind of affection in this camp, the only one that cared, listened to him, believed him. When he was still tied to the tree, he used to spend all day looking at you with fascination, trying to understand who you were to other gang members, his gaze was subtle, always looking away just in time before anyone would notice. But he was sure you would never look at him the way he looks at you, and his heart ached every time he reminded himself of the fact that he was just a stranger in this camp, he was considered a spy, traitor, enemy. Yet you still treated him with such kindness and care, always asking if he needs anything, if you can do something to ease his pain and stress.

Sometimes you sat near him and talked with him, not caring about what others might think, saying that as long as there is no proof of him doing anything wrong, you will not act like he is a criminal. And he was honestly so thankful for that. He was not sure what he deserved to have you as some sort of ally, but since you were the only one he trusted (even if it was only a little bit) he started to actually feel something deeper than friendship towards you.

He didn't want to admit that it was love. But if not love, then what was it? Unreasonable high blood pressure when he saw you, his eyes sparkly, heart beating faster, his body always felt so full of life, shattering when he saw that someone disrespected you or treated you badly. He couldn't do anything, so he just watched when Micah, because he was literally the only one that ever mistreated you, decided to yell at you. He could only sigh, waiting for you to come to him and moan about how you hate this blonde, egocentric guy.

His most common way of showing his affection to you was by taking care of your horse while listening to you, always remembering everything you said, whether it was a mention of your favourite food, people that you like, your dream future or what beautiful clothes you saw at the shop when you travelled to town the other day. Your complaints that you couldn't afford them though... How Kieran wished he could be rich, so he could buy you those clothes, so he could see you happy. But he knew he could never be able to do that.

He dreamed of asking you out. You were on his mind all day and night, but, god, how was he supposed to do that? He couldn't leave the camp, and if he could, it was supposed to be a fishing trip or something, no going to town, no having too much fun, no buying things (he had no money anyways).

So the day you came to him and said that Micah once again told you that you are an useless addition to the camp, instead of passive listening and nodding his head, he actually asked: — how about we go fishing? I will teach you how to do that so next time he says something like that, you can prove him wrong by bringing bunch of fishes to the camp! — his voice started to shake at the end of his sentence, when he understood that he is basically asking you out on an almost date. He looked at you with hope in his eyes.

— fishing? I don't know if Micah would consider fishing as an useful skill...I don't think if anything that is done by a woman is useful in his eyes. I actually believe he might be jealous of Dutch, he wants him all to himself... — you said, giggling a bit. And Kieran had to agree with you. The way Micah was always complimenting Dutch was actually a bit concerning, but as long as he could stay in this camp, he didn't want to ask. He guessed that "that's how the things are in this gang".

— well, you're probably right. He will treat everyone badly regardless of their hard work. But hey, fishing is a nice thing to do anyways, right? I promise you, it's really relaxing! — Kieran was nervous, of course, but you could also see an honest, bright smile on his face, he showed signs of happiness, and that was something really nice to see.

So? Do you agree to go with him? It's your choice. 

pls give me any feedback, even as anons <3 much love, teaser

[javierduffy]

replaying this game after the second game is making me honest to god so beyond miserable … javier looks so absolutely defeated here. it’s genuinely breaking my heart. please don’t make me think about the thoughts he’s having now- perhaps ones of regrets, or flashes of laughter and singing around the campfire, of clanking beer bottles together and sharing stories, of looking at the shine in dutch’s eyes during a speech and how he felt, somehow, the warmth of the mexican sun. and how that sun never felt the same when he got home again. and how the only time in the past eight years that he ever felt warm was when john’s hands wrapped the rope around his hands and legs. when john’s rope was the noose around his neck, and he finally, finally could stop running. guilt, fear, regret … relief. please kill me im so sad

[bouncybongfairy]

Caught Dead

The Creature x Fem Reader

Summary: Your homecoming date leaves you for another girl. On your sad and drunk walk home, you come across a memorial service for a Victorian man. Honoring his music, you wander in and play a score he wrote. The creature is so moved by your playing, he comes back from the dead and witnesses your talent first hand.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Not Proof Read

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Usually homecoming is a night that everyone raves about. Prom is always so pretentious and stressful. Whereas homecoming was more carefree; at least that’s how it’s depicted in romance novels and fanfiction. The guy you were originally going with ended up ditching you for another girl. Your best friend was with her boyfriend and third wheeling wasn’t something you're interested in. The best course of action was to walk home, stopping at a liquor store on the way. The old woman behind the counter looked you up and down, this didn’t offend you though. Mascara stained tears left streaks of gray lined down your face. Wearing a big pink dress that you used to feel really good in. Now it felt more like a cone of shame, drawing attention to what a hot mess you were. 

“Can I please get a dutch honey and small bottle of Skol,” you ask, setting a twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

“Normally I would laugh and send you away. You’re lucky I only have fifteen minutes until I clock out and how pathetic you look right now,” she said, taking your money and bagging the items. 

Even though it was a little back handed, you were grateful for her kindness. Chasing the vodka down with cigarettes as you walked. Humming tunes to yourself, enjoying the crisp night air. The sound of classical music caught your attention, a funeral home. It was one of the only places that had its doors open still. You sit outside on the steps, gutting your wrap before rolling the blunt. 

“Were you coming in?” a voice came from the doorway. 

“Oh um, yeah just give me a second,” you say.

“Take your time,” the older gentleman gave you a warm smile before heading back inside. 

You tucked the blunt behind your ear, shoving the half empty bottle into your purse before walking in. It wasn’t an open casket funeral but more of a memorial service. There was a piano in the corner of the room, a vase of red roses sitting on top of the beautiful wood. The funeral director explained that a bunch of this young man’s music was recently discovered. A museum recently bought the music and discovered he was never given a proper funeral so they wandered to give him a proper memorial. 

To honor him and the beautiful scores that were never showcased the way they deserved. Apparently the party from the museum didn’t stay for long, the director said they mostly took pictures for their website. After reading more about his story, you felt more connected to him. Apparently his girl left him for another man. Similar to what happened at the dance tonight. Grabbing one of the scores and sitting at the piano. It could be because you were drunk but as the sorrowful melody filled the room tears pricked into your eyes again. Imagining how his feelings of betrayal and grief probably poured through his pen while writing this song. 

Not being able to shake the fact that you just learned first hand how being left can feel. Bitter because deep down your biggest fear for the night came true; lonely from being too embarrassed to admit you were someone's second choice. Tears rolling down your face as you let yourself drown in sorrow. Unbenounced to you, The Creature not only heard his music so beautifully remastered but your cries. So moved by feeling and hearing your broken heart crying from your chest, he begins to stir. Pushing himself out of the ground and making his way towards the music. 

Lighting your blunt inside the room, you were tipsy and didn’t care if there were repercussions. Letting it hang off your lips and you played, trying not to let the smoke in your eyes. Meanwhile the creature was getting hung up on the mechanics of his body. Slowly stumbling towards the illuminated building, stopping dead in his tracks once seeing you. The light above the ceiling was casting down on you. Highlighting your eyelashes and flyaways, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. How expressive your face was while playing the notes, looking up every once to let tears run down your face. Showing how the mascara ran down your neck.  His daze was broken once he saw the worker coming back in the room, pointing his finger and yelling. This enraged him; stomping over there to stop the man from approaching you. Having some trouble with the stairs but after finally made his way in. 

Grabbing the sides of his old man's head and snapping his neck. You gasp, the blunt dropping out of your mouth and onto the floor. Going to pick it up but being taken back but The Creature. He stepped over the body and slowly inched towards you. You pull your knees up to your chest and press your back against the wall. He was now hovering over you, staring at you before leaning down. Getting on one knee and picking up the blunt, standing back up. 

Now closer, his lower stomach pressed against your knees. Putting the dutch between your lips with one hand and brushing the hair out of your eyes with the other. You put your knees down and pulled him onto the bench. Starting to play his score, focusing on keys and not his… appearance. As you played he grunted at a specific measure every time which led you to investigate why, 

“What? This part?” you replayed it a couple times. He pointed out a certain note and then to another, shifting his finger back and forth. In your interpretation, he was prompting you to switch the notes. Him humming in satisfaction at the change. 

“Yeah that does sound a lot smoother,” you point out. 

Remembering the body, you both leave in order to avoid responsibility. Walking home together, playing your music out loud for him to enjoy. Before the dark felt scary and daunting but now you were enjoying the night air. Completely ignorant to reality but never feeling better. 

[amateurvoltaire]

Little Yellow Emperor: the Life of Napoleon in LEGO

The Battle of Waterloo Domain is hosting a LEGO exhibit called "THE LEGEND OF NAPOLEON IN LEGO BRICKS." As a recovering LEGO addict and an eternal fan of 18th/19th-century French history, I simply had to go. After successfully bribing the husband with beer and fries and the children with waffles, we made the trip today.

The exhibition was smaller than I expected, but some of the builds were genuinely impressive. It traces Napoleon's life from his birth in Corsica to his death on Saint Helena—a neat, bite-sized way to introduce his story, and a fun way of recreating history. However, one thing that did bug me a bit: while the audio guide is available in multiple languages, all the wall texts are in French. In a trilingual country, especially at such a touristy site, that feels like a bit of a miss (plus, it gave the Dutch-speaking husband an excuse to grumble).

Gripes aside (1), the exhibit was a lot of fun. Here are my favourite builds.

1. The Campaign in Egypt

This recreation of Napoleon’s Egyptian campaign is absolutely brilliant. The photos don’t do it justice—every detail, from the Sphinx to the busy French camp, is spot on. It's also huge and apparently took close to 70 hours to build! @chickenmadam can you spot Kléber?

2. Napoleon's Coronation as Emperor

The second build, depicting Napoleon's coronation, may be smaller, but it's full of impressive details. I especially loved the grumpy expression on Pope Pius VII’s face, along with the equally unimpressed looks from the rest of the clergy—it really adds character to the scene!

3. The Coup on 18th Brumaire

Again not a very big build but... those red capes... the hats... the outfits —need I say more?

4. Napoleon asks Josephine for a Divorce

This moment is supposed to be, by all accounts, heart-wrenching for everyone involved—Napoleon asking Josephine for a divorce. But, since it’s LEGO, it ends up looking unintentionally hilarious.

5. The Crossing of the Berezina River

This is another brilliant build, capturing what was arguably Napoleon's greatest military disaster. While it's not as large as the Egypt campaign scene, it’s packed with intricate details that make it just as interesting.

6. Napoleon's Civil Code

Yes. He has a GIANT parchment.

7. Daddy Napoleon and his son

Because the King of Rome has a purple teddybear and a grumpy statue of his dad in his room...

Bonus: The Battle of the Arcole Bridge

Not particularly impressive per see as a build, but this is one of my favourite moments in Napoleon's story, so... why not?

Notes

(1) Yes, they recreated the siege of Toulon. No, Bonbon isn't in it. That makes me sad.