#FEEL YOU FRANÇOIS

[pimsri]

I'm coping

[icarianarts]

[chiropteracupola]

This was courtiers’ garb, rich and soft, though evidently cut for the use of another. Beautiful garments with little purpose, and, Montjoy thought, unlikely to hold together long if they were called upon to face the wear of the road. Henry did not intend to dress him as a servant, even one who acted as prince among messengers, but as a lord — the finely woven linen was terribly soft against his skin, and the hands that secured each lacing were careful indeed.

1418 - With his own hands.

[101flavoursofweird]

This is, of course, excluding Raphael as a dog parent. Because he’d win by a mile.

Also, I know Alfred cares for Marie but I associate him with Elisabeth.

For anyone not familiar with Rhythm Thief but would like to vote, there’s some spoilers and propaganda under the cut taken from a previous post of mine:

Duchess Elisabeth In her diary, Elizabeth writes that the best day of her life was the day Marie was born. Unfortunately, Jean-François (Elisabeth’s evil cousin) discovered Marie’s true heritage of being the last blood descendant of the Babylonian royal house don’t ask

Fearing for Marie’s safety and the resurrection of the Dragon Crown (an ancient flying weapon), Elizabeth gave Marie away to a convent when Marie was yet an infant, with her only possession being a violin… which miiight have helped Jean-François to identify Marie. (Unconfirmed in game!) Whoops. Elizabeth must have been feeling sentimental and wanted to give Marie something to remember her by. Marie can’t even remember what her mother looked like.

Elizabeth doesn’t acknowledge Marie when JF reunites the two of them later on, but we can see how affected Elisabeth is when Marie plays her violin

However, Elisabeth turns her back on Marie and walks away. Elizabeth has to pretend she has no interest in Marie so JF will leave them both alone. Elizabeth demands to know what JJF would want, theoretically speaking, if he had found her daughter. “Money? Honor?” JF, at some point, tracked Marie down, inserted himself into Marie’s life and paid for Marie to take violin lessons so she could unlock the ancient weapon. Elisabeth knows this and she must be terrified.

Later, when the bad guys threaten Elizabeth’s life in front of Marie, they reveal that Elizabeth has been lying in order to protect Marie. (Even the villain recognises this!) Elizabeth tries to keep the act up, insisting that she is nothing but a stranger to Marie. Marie decides to save her and plays the song anyway after hearing Elizabeth call her name in distress. 

Then, when the giant flying weapon has been unleashed, Elizabeth takes a literal bullet for Marie. Elizabeth reveals the truth to Marie and she calls Marie ‘Ma chère, Marie’ before passing out. Marie weeps for her mother

Fortunately, a pendant Elizabeth wore with young Marie’s picture saved her from the bullet. Raphael remarks that Elizabeth was Marie’s guardian angel. 

After the bad guys have been defeated, in the final scene of the game, Elizabeth can be seen peacefully listening to Marie’s music at the opera house. In Marie’s bonus episode, she watches Marie at her examination to enter the conservatoire. She’s glad to hear Marie’s laughter and she encourages her to enjoy herself. She tells Marie to “play like you were playing for him”- Elizabeth approves of her future son in law, Raphael

-

Inspector Vergier

In Vergier’s first scene, we see him sending in an army of roller-skating police officers to arrest Phantom R. Vergier takes his work very seriously.

At Paris Constabulary HQ, Raphael overhears Vergier talking to another officer about how he hasn’t been home in days. Apparently, Vergier has been on a certain case since his wife died. The other officer basically tells him, “GO HOME TO YOUR KID”.  (Charlie) Vergier clearly hasn’t recovered from his wife’s death but he’s been neglecting the one family member he has left so…

In a later chapter, Raphael again overhears Vergier talking to his colleague. Vergier asks if Charlie has turned up yet. He knows about Charlie’s mission to hunt down Phantom R, but he considers Charlie’s efforts an impediment to their investigation. Raphael picks up a family photo that Vergier dropped and decides to hang on to it. During his second fight with Charlie, Raph comments that Charlie is just like their father. Charlie snaps at him to “LEAVE MY FATHER OUT OF THIS!” (It’s not like Charlie’s trying to prove their worth or anything- what gave you that idea?)

Raphael goes looking for Charlie after Marie gets captured. He talks to Vergier’s friend from university and learns that Charlie and Vergier just had some sort of argument. Also, the friend comments that Charlie is about Raphael’s age. So... Charlie’s 16-18, maybe. It’s not unheard of for a parent to leave a 16-18 home alone, but Charlie was left at home for DAYS??? Raphael finds Charlie at a cafe and asks them to return the photo to Vergier. Charlier huffs that they don’t want to see their father again, but then they reads the message CharlieMs mother left on the photo. 

During the battle below the ancient flying weapon, Charlie saves Vergier from a bunch of henchmen. Vergier acknowledges that he protects Paris in memory of Charlie’s dead mother. Charlie reminds him that there’s no time like the present, and announces that they’ll help him save the city. Vergier doesn’t refuse this offer. 

In the final scene, Vergier and Charlie can be seen pursuing Phantom R together.

There’s also Charlie’s bonus episode, where they fight off the last remnants (?) of the evil organisation. Vergier announces that the case he was working on is officially closed. He’s realised that no matter how much he warns Charlie to stay away, Charlie wouldn’t listen. He just asks Charlie to stay where he can keep an eye on them.

-

Isaac, Raphael’s father 

The first chapter of the game opens with dialogue of Raphael crying as Isaac leaves him. He left three years ago... when Raphael was fifteen. Raphael’s mother previously died in an accident, so Raphael was orphaned.

Raphael became Phantom R and chased after the mark his father left for him on the coin. 

Raphael reveals to Marie that his father was an artist but he never got a big break. Isaac became a forgery artists, swapping his fake art pieces with their authentic counterparts. Raphael tries to fix his father’s crimes and hunt for the mark by returning the real art pieces.  

Raphael thinks that he sees Isaac beneath Les Invalides and at the Palace of Versailles. He’s distressed and frustrated when he loses Isaac in the crowd. Isaac was in a hurry to escape...

During his final battle with Jean-François, Raphael learns that Isaac has been working with J.F. and the Chevaliers. Isaac made forgeries for J.F.’s organisation when Raphael was young and sickly. Raphael insists that he made those forgeries to pay the doctors. So, it does seem that Isaac initially joined the organisation for Raphael’s sake, but his intentions became warped over the years. 

Raphael couldn’t believe that his father would fall in with the Chevaliers and Elizabeth was close friends with Isaac... once. Isaac couldn’t have shown any obvious signs of going to the dark side years ago. 

In his final scene, Isaac discusses with the seemingly real emperor Napoleon that he wants to begin the next phase of their plan. He quietly warns Raphael to be ready for whatever that is.

Note: Isaac’s motivations and reasons for leaving are never made clear during the game or from his point of view. As we don’t have a sequel, these can’t be confirmed.

[runawaycarouselhorse]

[asklesbianonceler]

I watched Brotherhood of the Wolf with Bea last night and at the end she was like "I know you're going to be thinking about the villain for weeks" and y'all.... I hate that she was right. Like, I can't tell her she's right but

[borgialucrezia]

— I placed you here, as you see. At my side. Are you?

“I think they've come to realize, I think it is Lucrezia who says, 'Only a Borgia can love a Borgia.' I think it's also a part of Cesare's vanity. It’s definitely eating him. There are different kinds of love and when you love someone as much as Cesare loves Lucrezia, you want to possess her but you wish her happiness more than yours. And I think Cesare has many doubts about what’s better for her. I’m sure, for himself, he enjoyed the whole thing. [Laughs.] I don’t think he has many personal regrets about it. But I think for her especially he feels like he should be the bigger man. He should lead her the right way. And he probably feels that he failed her in a way." — FRANÇOIS ARNAUD (request by @borgiatargaryen)

[flowerandblood]

Hi, for the ask game you’re making

Glass cuts deepest

🖼️ Museum

🍁 Autumn

💐 Care

🎃 Jealousy

😬 Semi-public sex

🍓 Sexual tension

Congratulations on the milestone 😊!

The Art of Body

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]

[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.

Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]

______

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.

He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.

Women.

The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.

He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.

When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.

He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.

When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.

He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.

"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.

Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.

He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.

"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.

Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.

He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.

He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.

He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.

Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?

He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.

"Let's go." He said finally.

It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.

He felt he could rely on her.

When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.

The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.

His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.

"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.

He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.

He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.

He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.

I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.

He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.

He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.

"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.

He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.

She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.

He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.

"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"

"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."

"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.

What did she mean?

"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.

He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.

He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.

When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.

Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.

He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.

"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.

"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.

He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.

They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.

"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.

"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.

He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.

He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.

He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.

He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.

All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.

The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.

Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.

"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.

The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.

Why hadn't he done this before?

They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.

"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.

"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.

Just a little longer.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 2)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.

P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches

“Y/N Tessio?”

“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 

Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 

This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 

Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.

Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 

“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.

And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 

He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.

Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.

“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 

“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 

"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.

"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.

Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.

In Europe.

But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.

It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 

“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 

But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 

“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 

So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 

Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 

You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 

Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.

“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 

Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 

You didn’t react. 

You didn’t have to. 

All you did was keep watching the birds. 

Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.

“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 

“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 

You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 

“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”

You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”

“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”

“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 

Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 

“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 

“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.

Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.

Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!

“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.

“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 

Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.

But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.

“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 

“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”

Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 

“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”

Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.

There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 

“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 

Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 

“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 

“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 

This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.

Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  

“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”

Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 

Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 

Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 

There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 

< prev ch [1] | next ch [3] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery

[thenightshadowqueen]

Top ten SFTH character couples

(in my biased opinion)

Okay, first of all I’m so sorry to anyone who followed me for anything other than Shoot from the Hip content; I swear I’ll put in more variety. Someday. (Also go check out Shoot from the Hip.) Second of all, I did not join Tumblr with the intention of making a bunch of lists, but they’re fun to write and people seem to enjoy them, so here goes.

10. Justin x the Beetroots MC (headcanon)

Listen, I do NOT condone the whole “if they’re bullying you, that means they like you” bullshit. That being said, years and years later, after both of them have grown as people, I think they could have a really sweet relationship, at least after they work through everything.

9. André Beetroot x Xavier (canon, somehow)

I kind of ship this in a joking way, but also kind of not? They make sense together in a really weird, fucked-up way, and I’m so here for it. (I cannot believe that they’ve canonically hooked up. Multiple times. I love AJ so much for giving us this.)

8. Andrew x Nigel (headcanon)

It’s so toxic. It’s so toxic, and I know that, and it would never be okay in real life, but some dark part of me is really fascinated by the possibilities. (I cannot emphasise enough how much I am intrigued by this in FICTION ONLY.)

7. Jack and Jackie (canon)

Complete turnaround from the last two, but these two are genuinely so sweet. I honestly don’t even have much to say about them, but I love them. So much.

6. François x Mimi (canon)

They are so toxic. They’re horrible people, and they only make each other worse. And I love it. (You know, making this list did make me worry about my mental health slightly. Just slightly.)

5. Toby x the meth wife (canon)

First of all, this is the gayest straight-presenting relationship I’ve ever seen, and I love it. (I totally headcanon them both as bi/pan/queer/etc., but that’s not the point of this post.) And honestly, they’re so supportive of each other. They’re, like, genuinely a healthy couple (in a SFTH play? Can you imagine?). They have so much love for each other, and I could talk about them all day, but I’m fairly sure no one needs that, so I’ll stop.

4. Andrews x Betruva (headcanon)

Listen, I might be a little biased because they’re new, but they kind of have everything I look for in a ship. They have millennia of history, which is always a good start. They’re ancient nemeses. They founded a church named after them both???? Honestly how much more gay can you get?

3. Esmerelda x the vampire slayer (canon)

I like to imagine that Esmeralda survived, and they fall in love, and they have to work through the trauma of the slayer (I think I saw the fanon name Samantha? But I’m not sure) trying to kill Esmeralda. There’s just so much angst potential, and oh, now I want to write a fanfic.

2. Bubba x Jeramiah (canon)

They’re a fucking classic, okay, and they’re a classic for a reason. They are the best gay cowboys, and I love them so much. I know I should have more to say, but I feel like it would just be incoherent screaming.

1. Derek x Titch (canon)

Listen, who else could it be? They are so fundamentally amazing. It’s a classic case of “he fell first, he fell harder” (even if we don’t get to see a lot of the “he fell harder” part, I believe it with all my heart). I love Titch working though his issues and learning to open up, and I love Derek being so helplessly in love with him. I love them so much, and they deserve the top spot.

[anli-rambles]

Idk if the writers intended it or not but the amount of cognitive dissonance between what Haytham says and what he does is so telling of the kind of person he was raised to be. Birch succeeded in making him talk like a Templar, but his actions contradict pretty much everything Haytham claims to stand for. It's as if the brainwashing ran deep enough to make Haytham lack self-awareness but not enough to completely destroy what Edward was able to teach him before he died. Connor points it out verbatim right before they meet up with Washington too. "You've talked a great deal but you've shown me nothing."

Haytham says he wants order but he's just about as chaotic as his father was when he was younger. He says Connor's talks of "freedom" and "free will" are nonsense but literally every time we see him aside from the opening sequences, he's going off on his own, doing God-knows-what without telling any of the other Templars, he drops everything on the spot to go camping with his girlfriend, hell he even murdered a Templar Grandmaster for personal revenge (when revenge has been the driving force between many of the protagonists we've had so far like Ezio, Connor, Arno, Bayek, heck even Kassandra to some degree, while the Templars claim to be above this kind of stuff). He went against Lee's plans to have Connor executed because he felt like it. (The line in his journal is literally "I won't let my son die today.") He says he wants purpose and direction and yet never has a plan for whatever he's doing. He's exactly like Edward on that front, essentially bullshitting his way through everything and hoping it all works out (and it often doesn't). That man has never had purpose or direction in his entire life, and the moment someone tries to tell him what to do, he actively chooses to do the opposite because he doesn't follow orders (and if he does, it's on his own terms).

When Haytham realized he didn't hold the key to the Precursor site, he chose to drop it altogether, because he knew too many would have to die for the cause and it wasn't worth it. Do you mean to tell me people like Vidic, the Borgias, Germain, heck even Torres (who's by far the most reasonable Grandmaster we've encountered in the series besides François de la Serre, maybe) went to impossible lengths to get to the Observatory — do you think any of these men would've just... stopped ? Because more people would have to die ? (The answer is no. William Johnson was willing to commit mass murder just to buy the land the site was on — which by the way Haytham had no idea about (the mass murder part, I mean) until after the fact and he was very angry about it.)

Which is also pretty telling about how involved he is in all of this. He didn't know about what Johnson was planning because he couldn't even be bothered to hold yearly meetings for like 15 years.

In his journal, you can see how he progressively starts to despise every Templar he's working with. He endorses Lee out loud but his thoughts about the guy are that he's "too British to be a good representative for the American people" and he's actually pretty pessimistic about his chances to supplant Washington. He doesn't even believe in what he says about Lee, like, ever (which is why I say it really looks like he's endorsing Lee as an act of sabotage because it really feels like it sometimes.) His Templar kill count is also higher than Connor's — Juan Vedomir, the unnamed mercenary with a West Country accent, Edward Braddock, John Harrison, Reginald Birch, Benjamin Church and Nicholas Biddle (although the game never showed it, the fact that Church and Biddle died only days apart while both in the Caribbean means that Haytham was with Connor on the Aquila when he killed Biddle, so he's at least complicit in his murder.)

Haytham says he's a man with Templar ideals and an Assassin background but to me it feels like the opposite. He's a man with a Templar background and Assassin ideals, but the grooming started so young that even killing Birch couldn't undo the damage that man had done. I think Haytham realized that by the end and that's why he let Connor kill him.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Catherine Deneuve (Belle de Jour, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, The Young Girls of Rochefort)—Say what you will about the French but they really went off with Catherine Deneuve

Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)— "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasn’t glamour—she was just too sensible for that—it was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldn’t be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that she’d dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lips—'Setsuko’s eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that she’d died—I thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Catherine Deneuve propaganda:

"One of the greatest european actresses of all time. Famous for portraying 'aloof and mysterious beauties', she could play both the innocent and adorable and the cold and erotic parts. She was so beautiful she was chosen to be the face of Marianne, France's national symbol."

"She was a French movie star famous for icy and aloof roles and worked with some of the greatest international directors in the world (Jacques Demy, Luis Buñuel, and François Truffaut to name a few). She could kill you with her gaze and her bone structure should be studied by painters"

"One of the most famous of French actresses that has grace the film screen. She is just stunning and beautiful."

Setsuko Hara:

One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist Shūsaku Endō wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"

One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!

Linked gifset

Linked gifset 2

She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.

"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920–2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays – frequently with a smile." [link]

Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile

Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.

[rebeltarot]

RELATIONSHIPS ➕ Your next friendship

"[...] and then she knew that you could become homesick for people too."

[3 piles] ・ [6 decks] ・ [12 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, songs]

Hello friends, we will investigate who your next friend is in this reading. What is their personality, and how will you guys meet? All these questions will be explored within this reading. I wish you and your upcoming blossoming connections all the very best. ♡♡

Painting: The Triumph of Venus - François Boucher (1740)

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

18+ only - This is not a blog for minors. Warnings: None.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 01 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

C, U, R, E, L, G, Aries, 2nd House, Jupiter

Song: Water - KREAM, ZOHARA

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: 3 of swords, the world, page of wands, (5 of pentacles)

Oracle: seeker rx, humpback whale, occupation, mule, fly, boot, broken ring, don't make plans

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading! Your next friend is someone who has a keen eye for warning signs. I feel like this person has experienced their fair share of trauma and heartbreak, which makes them a great detector of red flags. Your friend is someone who might very well still be in a grieving process when you guys meet. They might have recently experienced a loss, and generally, I do feel like your friend might be leaning toward the realistic/pessimistic side. Some of their behavior might be strange to you too, given that they were coming out of a difficult situation. The world card is all about completion, success, clarity, celebration, and travel. Your new friend is an accomplished person—someone who has achieved their fair share of success. I do think that your new friend is aware of things and can discern situations accurately. In this specific deck, this card is associated with fans. This is a cheerleader—someone who loves seeing other people win. This new friend of yours will live through your highs and lows with you, and they will continuously cheer you on and support you. They might also be the type to motivate you to celebrate small wins. They might send you gifts and flowers for your achievements, no matter how little they are. A genuine supporter. They are also well-traveled, or they might be from another part of the world. Either way, they are cultured and can adapt to new circumstances and surroundings. We are looking at someone who is curious and shows genuine interest in others. Your new friend is also creative; they might be involved in the arts in one way or another. I do think that this is a fun friend—someone with whom you can go on spontaneous adventures and someone who inspires you to be more confident and to follow your intuition. With this friend, the sky is the limit, honestly. They will be on board with the wildest ideas and support you through them. This is someone who is free-spirited. They have broken free from society's expectations. It's the type of friend that, if you like it, they will love it! We are looking at a confident person here, or at least at someone who appears to be this way. Again, your new friend has experienced their fair share of trauma and heartbreak, and I do think that based on their past, they do tend to struggle with a pessimistic outlook at times, especially in areas regarding security and safety, aka. money. They might have a lack-mindset, but again, it feels mostly related to jobs and food security (there is an apple on the woman's head in this particular deck). I also feel like this is someone who struggles to commit. Again, this does not relate to your friendship but more to areas where your friend struggles with a lack-mindset. Anything that promises security is something they struggle to trust, so they might be the type to do job-hopping, etc. Your friend could have a beautiful and soothing voice. They might even be a great singer. What's certain, though, is that we are looking at a truly wise person here, someone whose words can soothe one's soul. Your friend is a great guide, especially because of their own life experience. They have learned a lot of lessons and accumulated tons of valuable and life-changing wisdom. Again, their words have the power to touch one's soul. They are determined. Even if they are capricious, especially when it comes to their work, they are clear on what they want. They have direction, and they are true go-getters. Their approach is just unconventional. Your new friend is someone with a purpose, and they are doing their best to follow it and be worthy of it. So in essence, this is a person who takes their roles seriously. They try their utmost to be deserving of their titles (be it a friend, a position at work, etc.).

How will you meet?

You guys will meet at work, that is for certain. I feel like the person who is new to the job will be you, given the sequence of the cards. The mule card shows us that there is a situation that seems hopeless; this most likely relates to a person who is stubborn and unwilling to change. This will lead to a period of bad health and even a depressive period for you. You might be struggling at your previous job. These circumstances will lead to you looking for new positions and eventually severing ties with your previous employer. This all seems unplanned; this change was not something you expected or even planned for, but something that was inspired by your experience with this stubborn person. And wherever your career journey leads you, that is where you will meet your new friend. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 02 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

A, D, I, E, U, A, 1st house, Gemini, Pluto

Song: Hate Myself - Tate McRae

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: the moon, 7 of pentacles, queen of wands, (wheel of fortune)

Oracle: judge rx, tiger, mature man, forest, pig, eye, camel, arms

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading! Your next new friend is someone who holds a lot of depth. They might feel magical and maybe even a bit unreal to you. It's a person who religiously follows their intuition and is just really good at picking up subtle signs and changes. Your new friend might struggle with anxiety, though, as they tend to overthink a lot. But yes, this person is hard to read and hard to decipher. Your friend's motivations are often honorable. They tend to do the things they do for the right reasons, usually to uplift others and improve given circumstances. They are a hard worker, someone who is constantly learning, growing, and changing, and has a lot of stamina. They persevere, and their hard work usually pays off well. Everything they achieve, they deserve. They also pay attention to what they do and what they invest their time in. Your new friend is an intentional person; they always know why they are doing something. This by no means indicates a calculated person, but rather someone who is present and mindful. Your new friend is confident and courageous. They are truly independent and get along well with the people around them. Again, we are looking at a driven person, someone who does not shy away from hard work. They are determined to achieve what they set their minds to. With the wheel of fortune as their bottom deck, they might feel like someone who is quite lucky at times. Yes, they work for what they achieve, but their achievements might come with extra benefits, etc. They might be coming from a privileged background. This is genuinely a kind and good person, and they are always teachable. This is not the type of person to get their ego in their way when it comes to criticism, etc. They remain teachable because they know they are not always right, which just brings them a lot of good karma. I do think, though, that they can be harsh with their words. This is a pragmatic person—a person with reason. They never do anything without intention, so their criticism might sometimes appear destructive to others as they apply their values and their idea of the world to their judgment. They are not the most sensitive and delicate with their words. Again, this is a fiery and driven person. They appear to be unstoppable. Their passion is their driving force and their power, and they are bold and brave. Things always seem to work out for them, honestly, because their force is so powerful that everything just seems to align for them. They put their money where their mouth is.  How will you meet?

You might meet your new friend through a mutual connection—most likely a mature man. This could indicate someone who is in their 50s or upwards, someone who is just simply older than you, or someone who is more mature or has more experience. I feel like this person will connect you two during a time when you are confused. When you might not see clearly and when your values are all over the place. I do feel like you will follow your intuition here. You might reach out to this mutual connection in hopes of help or guidance, and they will connect you to your new friend. Again, you are reaching out for help to overcome a problem in your life. It might not be the easiest journey to one another, but in the end, you guys will embrace each other, and I do feel like your new friend will be more than willing to help you; they will be welcoming. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 03 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

B, I, N, G, O, H, I, Libra, 8th House, Saturn

Song: Me & U - AleksSounds

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: the high priestess, 5 of cups, the magician, (9 of wands)

Oracle: angel rx, swan, house, fair woman, broom, may, mountain road, back

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading! Your new friend is a wise and intuitive person. Someone who is in alignment with their subconscious mind and who can read others easily. This person might seem magical to you, but in a way, they might be hard to read, and they might seem unpredictable. Sometimes their actions might be without rhyme or reason, but there is always consistency behind them, which is them following their intuition. Your friend might have experienced some losses in their life, and there might still be situations that are eating away at their conscience because they are regretful. The past might still be hunting them, and I do think that they struggle with letting go, especially when they know that they failed a situation or someone. Your new friend is truly resourceful, and they know how to wield what they have to achieve their goals. They are great at manifesting and achieving their desires. This, to me, feels like someone who is lowkey a perfectionist. They struggle with failure and they struggle with loss, and when experiencing it, they might be pessimistic about it. Your new friend is a powerful person; they are unique and authentic, and again, they follow their intuition. The only action your new friend takes is inspired action. They are resilient, for sure, and extremely courageous. They fight for what they want and protect their loved ones fiercely. This is not the type of person to give up easily; they are persistent and also great at setting, keeping, and respecting boundaries. I do not think that they are easily approachable in the sense that they are guarded. They are protective of themselves and the people in their lives, but once you are in, you are in for good. I feel like your friend's first impression can be misleading. They might appear innocent and angelic at first, but they are quite the opposite. Again, this is a strong person, but it might not be evident in their appearance. First impressions are misleading here, and they usually tend to use this to their advantage as they are aware of others's perceptions of them. Your friend is quite graceful. They hold so much wisdom, and it feels like the way they go through life is just effortless. They are a great teacher, especially when it comes to elegance and grace. They inspire with dignity, and I do think that they have a great eye for beauty and aesthetics. This seems like a truly classy person.  How will you meet?

You guys will meet at someone's home. This is either the housewarming of someone you both know, or you might be moving to a new neighborhood or a new home, and they might be living in the same apartment complex or on the same street. Either way, a fair woman is involved; this specifically describes their hair color, which ranges from blonde to gray and white. Whatever it is, it will most likely happen in May or start in May. Your move or your way there might not be easy, and there might have been a few hiccups along the way, but eventually, you are getting there, starting a new life and a new path. I do think that this person is meant to support you through your new chapter in life. You might even share a home, perhaps? For some of you, this could indicate a roommate, etc. For others, it's a neighbor, and for a small group of you, it's the housewarming of a close friend. But what all of you in this group share is the fact that you will meet this person during a new chapter in your life. And May does play a role in one way or another. It could be either timing, someone's birthday, or hold another meaning. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

[4ngelx-x]

Early Morning Call.

⇾ This chapter mentions sex, drug use, fights and alcohol. If you are sensitive to this type of content, please skip.

Guys, forgive my level of English, it's not my first language.

Late at night.

I don't usually wake up in the middle of the night. I'm always too tired since I broke up with her, I never have time to rest, I try to keep busy all the time.

I spend the day photographing, if not rehearsing, and when I'm not doing any of that, I go traveling. There was no time for thoughts like that. But tonight was different.

Lisa's call💗

I woke up late at night to my cell phone vibrating under my pillow. I checked the name again and saw that it was hers. The same name as when she gave me her number. I don't have the heart to change it.

I scratch my eyes to make sure it was that name, and I'm sure when it shows up as a missed call and the call comes through again.

— Please Y/N — I had just accepted the call and she didn't give me time to answer it, speaking in a tearful voice — Don't hang up.

— I'm not going, is everything all right, Lisa?

— Please Y/N - I hear her agonized voice — I need you so much, I can't do it without you.

— Elisa, are you drunk? — I ask worriedly.

— I miss your hugs, I miss the way you boss me around, I miss the way we used to be together, I miss your kisses, your mouth - she whispers into the phone — I miss you.

Her voice comes out slurred, as if she's speaking without thinking.

I remember what it was like when she drank, she let loose, danced the way she wanted, acted the way she wanted and also said what she wanted. I remember when we'd go out and she'd pull me up to dance in front of everyone, even when there was no one there, when she'd spin me around until we were dizzy.

— I need you, Y/N. I need you as much as I need water to survive — I hear her sigh on the other end of the line — I swear I've tried to move on, I've tried meeting other people, having sex, kissing, but I can't stop thinking about you.

You had sex with other people?

— I did everything you asked me to do, but I failed. I'm sorry, please forgive me — I'm startled when I hear her cry — I need you, Y/N.

I used to love stroking her hair, I remember when we sat on the bed on our day off and did nothing all day, we'd just sit there on our cell phones, watching a movie, chatting away, having sex all the time, drinking wine. But that all went down the drain.

— Remember when you told me you didn't want to see my face anymore? You told me that I should get on with my life, meet other people and forget about you — he says in a slurred voice — I couldn't, the girls tried to cheer me up, Sakina took me to parties, Jean-François introduced me to friends and no one could get you out of my head.

They were all my friends, we went out together, we went out as a couple. They said we were the most beautiful couple of all. It seems that now they no longer have that opinion.

— I miss how you made me feel, when you touched me, how you caressed me, how you sucked me — she whispers the last part.

We'd have sex anywhere, we'd already tried out every room and piece of furniture in her new house. We had sex whenever we could. We had sex all the time.

— I can't bear to be without you, I can't bear to be without your affection, I can't bear to be without your hugs? — She says with a slurred voice - Remember that time I went a few games without winning and I was frustrated and we had sex 10 minutes before I went on the pitch and we won with a goal of my own?

I laugh mentally at the memory.

— We called it the lucky fuck, because the team went the rest of the season without losing — I hear a muffled laugh — That day I dedicated my goal to you, but you don't know that when I scored that goal I was remembering you cumming in my mouth.

I get up from the bed, trying to get rid of the sensation she had made between my legs. She always did that to me, talking dirty to me everywhere, teasing me and making me horny. When that time we were at a super-acclaimed awards ceremony and she was in the middle of the red carpet, in front of all the cameras and photographers, telling me she wanted to suck me off in front of all those people, so everyone could see how beautiful I am moaning, that had finished me off, me always standing cross-legged trying to relieve the tension she was causing me. Just like now, crossing my legs trying to get rid of that feeling.

— I wanted to taste you again, how good you make me feel and how good it is to hear you moaning in my ear, begging me not to stop — I hear a moan from her.

Was she realizing how long she'd been on the phone?

— Tell me you don't miss it too — The voice comes out like a breath — Tell me you don't miss how I made you feel, how I could make you come in two minutes anywhere…

I drink the glass of water on the bedside table, wetting my throat, which has gone dry.

— Talk to me Y/N - That voice again - I need to hear your voice…

— You're just drunk Elisa, go take a cold shower and go to sleep — I mean it.

— I love it when you take care of me, even though I don't deserve it. — She speaks with a tearful voice again.

When you saw Y/N, you saw Elisa. Because where one went somewhere, the other followed. There's no Elisa without Y/N and there's no Y/N without Elisa. Until that day, that damn day.

— Please Elisa, don't call me again, not like that…

— What way - she replies quickly.

— Drunk - I say worried - Why are you drunk? Again. You're out drinking almost every day, this isn't good for you, if you want to destroy your life, do it away from me, take me away from your close friends, I don't want to see you like this.

Drinking, lots of drinking and drugs. Almost every night. I avoided looking, but Instagram always reminded me.

— I want to smell you again, I want to feel you. Please, let's talk properly?

We never talked, it was never just talk, because it always ended in sex, that's how we always got back together. But I promised myself I wouldn't fall for it again.

I hear the sound of a bottle in the background, as if it had fallen from somewhere.

— Did you know that every night I read that verse from that book you gave me two months ago that's next to our photo? The girls hate that photo, but I like it, we'd just woken up after having sex all night, I like it because I like the way your hair looks when you wake up, and how sincere your smile is in the morning.

That night we'd had a fight, but the fight was no longer about hot kisses and silly hands, we had sex everywhere, even I accidentally broke a glass when she threw me over the sink. We were so drunk that we spent more than 10 minutes laughing. It was the night I had the most fun in my entire life

— We're so good together, why do you want to leave? You're the love of my life, I can't let you go like this without fighting for you - I say between sobs.

— I love you, Lisa, but it's best if we stay apart. Until you get better - I said, wanting to cry

I had never stopped loving her. I'd broken up with her for the best, but she seemed to have got worse.

I remember it like it was yesterday, I'd just come back from a work trip, I hadn't told Elisa I'd be home early. When I opened the living room door, I saw her with one of her friends, sniffing powder on the table. That image of her sniffing was stuck in my head. She was doing drugs on the living room table, as if that was a good thing to do.

We fought all night.

Fame had gone to her head after the World Cup, when everyone saw that she was really good. It must have been that night that started it, when all the girls asked her out and I decided to stay in the apartment and let her have fun on her own. When she came back, she came back strange, but I didn't notice, because she fucked me in every way she could. After that day, the fights started to be almost constant, but we always ended the same way, she spent her days apart and it all made sense when I saw her doing it.

— WHAT THE FUCK! - I laugh, denying what I'd just seen.

She gets up startled and her friend gets up too.

— Ma chatter, let me explain - She tries to get close to me.

— Don't touch me, Elisa! - I shout in disgust at what she's just done.

I walk from the living room to the bedroom as quickly as possible, carrying my suitcase so that I could put more clothes in it. I was going to leave this house.

— Please, mon amour, don't do this. I can explain, I swear.” She speaks with a strong accent, due to her nervousness

She tried to stop me putting the clothes in the suitcase, but I intervened.

— I don't want an explanation Elisa, I saw what I saw, it doesn't need an explanation - I say, trying to get her hands off my clothes.

I closed the suitcase with difficulty and pulled it out, as it had become very heavy.

— Please, mon amour, let me show you that I can do better, but don't leave me, please - she tries to stop me.

I slap her with all my strength.

— Don't ever try to do that again, don't touch me and don't try to stop me from leaving — I say, looking her in the face — You're destroying your life and now you've destroyed our relationship… You, more than anyone, know everything that happened to me, and you want this nightmare to come back?

Her eyes fill with tears, but she keeps trying to get in front of me.

— Please don't leave — she tries again to get in front of me.

— It's over Elisa, I don't want to look you in the face anymore — She's startled by the word “over” — Don't call me anymore, don't text me, don't do anything related to me, until you get better and regret it.

— Ma chatter, please don't do this to me — She was red, trying to hold back the tears.

I couldn't look at her like that, but after what I saw, I can't look at her anymore. I wouldn't go through that again. I'd seen my family destroyed by it once and it seems to have destroyed it again.

— Get on with your life Elisa, try to get on with your life, find other people, meet new people and forget about me — I try not to cry in front of her.

I pull my suitcase out of the apartment and don't look back, lest I regret it.

We spent the night arguing over phone calls, her asking me to come back to talk and me wandering aimlessly around the city with a huge suitcase in my hands. She was on drugs, saying nonsensical things…

— Are you still there? — I hear her voice on the other end of the line — I can hear you breathing, is everything all right?

She knew me so well. I feel angry about that.

— Let's talk, please, I've gotten better, I swear to you — She says — Do you know what day it is?

I spend every day very busy, working from Sunday to Sunday, I don't have time to look at the calendar, let alone the clock.

— Today was supposed to be our two-year anniversary — she laughs disappointedly — That's why I couldn't bear it. I can't do without you. You're my life, Y/N, give me a chance to show that I've improved.

I look at the clock on my dressing table. 3am. She's drunk, she has a match tomorrow and she hasn't even rested.

— Elisa, please, go take a shower and go to sleep — I say, trying not to cry — Just do it, please.

— I swear I post that, but I don't do anything. I've gotten better. I don't do any more of that — She sighs and gives up — I love you Y/N, bye. I hope you'll watch the match, I swear I'm fine, I just called to remind you that you're the love of my life.

I love you, Elisa. I love you so much that it hurts and I can't heal it…

[vanessalocke]

England and France are two effeminate men in different ways. I think that only adds tension and makes it hard for them understand each other like Arthur is soft in certain ways but can't understand the flamboyant frenchness and François can't really stop being petty and both keep playing games BC of appearances... It's exhausting

You feel exhausted but here they are in 2024:

France has become the first non-Commonwealth country to take part in the Changing of the Guard ceremony at Buckingham Palace.

The facade of the French Embassy in the UK shows the logo commemorating the 120th anniversary of the Entente Cordiale.

During the 14 July parade rehearsal, French planes were allowed to refuel British planes as a symbol of the Anglo-French bond.

British aircraft took part in painting the French flag over France on 14 July.

No need to thank me.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Researches

You guys seemed to like the first part so here we go again :) not much action yet, I know, Dust is still trying to figure out what to do with them :')

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@ancha-aus summoning you real quick

@crazy-snake you wanted to be tagged sooooo here you go

Dust was on his laptop, trying to make some researches about these four mysterious time travelers, trying to learn some things about their cultures, to get an idea of what he should be prepared for. They already ate, Dust having decided to make some pasta, and just with that he had already been met with various looks of confusion and suspicion: out of the four, only Cross and Nightmare knew what pasta were, and while Dust wasn't very surprised by that, he had been a lot more confused when the only one who knew how to use a fork, or simply what a fork was, had been Nightmare, the others preferring to use a spoon or even their fingers, which earned them some disgusted looks from the noble, that, for once, Dust could quite agree with. After a quick Google research on his phone, Dust had learnt that forks hadn't been introduced in the Roman Empire until the fourth century and in France in 1533, while vikings usually used either knives, spoons, or their fingers, but no forks. After that, Dust figured it might be a good idea to make some more researches...

He watched them from his chair, to make sure they weren't destroying his house. Cross was standing guard in front of his door, not moving an inch, Killer had miraculously stopped rummaging in his drawers to stare in wonder at a lava lamp instead, and Nightmare was sitting on the couch. Dust had given him his reading tablet that he got from work as a gift, having found a French book from 1532 by François Rabelais, right before forks were imported, titled Pantagruel. Nightmare had been.. reluctant to take the tablet, watching Dust showing him how to scroll up and down, he had however seemed quite curious about it when he had seen the French writing, and had agreed on taking it "car il n'y a bien que cela à faire ici". Dust wasn't sure what that meant, but he was pretty sure it was an excuse so it didn't seem like the noble was just curious but rather didn't have a choice. Horror was looking through the window when he finally let out a sigh and went to sit on the couch as well, making the mattress sag under his weight. Nightmare looked up for the tablet to frown at the viking, and shifted away from him, against the armrest, to which Horror frowned too. Dust watched these two interact, he watched Horror grab Nightmare's cape to feel the texture and Nightmare slapping his hand away to take back the cape, Horror holding out his hands as a peace sign. He would probably have to watch them closely, make sure they didn't get on each other's nerves.

Dust was in the middle of reading a Wikipedia article when he was interrupted by Nightmare.

- Dust ? Vôtre, uh.. parchemin magique.. ? Est terminé.

He recognized the word "terminé", as it sounded like "terminate", and guessed that Nightmare must have finished the book, which was frankly impressive because it had nearly four hundred pages and he gave it to him not three hours ago.

- Uh.. okay.. ? You, uh.. want to read another book ? I can look if there's any other.

Nightmare didn't respond, frowning slightly. Right, Dust's phone was charging, so he didn't have Google Translate turned on. He tried to think of the translation for book, he had used it when presenting the tablet to the noble, surely he didn't forget it so fast.

- Uh.. autre.. livre.. ?

He said, with a bad accent, but Nightmare seemed to understand as he slowly looked down at the tablet, seeming perplexed, surely wondering how Dust was going to pull a book from something that looked like a weird parchment, or just how long was said parchment. Dust stood up to grab the tablet from Nightmare's hands who looked up at him, he searched for a few seconds before handing him the tablet again, this time opened on a book titled Gargantua, a prequel of Pantagruel by the same author, from 1534, one year after forks were imported. Nightmare shot him a suspicious look before taking the tablet and starting to read again. At least this one was easily occupied.

Horror bent over, trying to see above Nightmare's shoulder, which only made him flinch and shift away from the viking, pressing the tablet against his chest as to prevent him from taking it away.

- Ne vous approchez pas de moi !

He said with a tone that he wanted threatening, but his voice just sounded afraid. Horror frowned at him.

- Hey, no fights. I don't have enough money to replace furniture.

Horror looked up at him, sitting straight, but before he could say anything a sword was between them. Cross had moved from the door. He glared at Horror.

- Eo vos conseilloie de rester asis.

They both stared at each other before Horror huffed, sitting on the other end of the couch again. Cross quickly glanced at Dust before focusing on Nightmare.

- Allez-vos tresbien, Sire ?

Nightmare looked at him before nodding, sitting straight too after having shot a last look at Horror who was now looking through the bay window of the backyard, not paying attention to them anymore. Cross put his sword away and returned to the door, ignoring Killer who had been watching the whole scene.

- Si vis pugnare, possum servare score.

He said with a sharp smile and amusement in his voice. Nightmare glanced at him.

- Sine me pugna, lego. Et desine obstrepere.

Killer chuckled, and turned his attention back to the lamp, letting Nightmare go back to his reading.

Okay what just happened ? Dust hadn't moved, he hadn't understood a word of what they all said, but apparently the situation had been sorted out ? After they almost started to fight ?

He should really try to learn at least the basics of their languages. But which one should he start with ? Probably French and Old Norse, because no one here seemed to speak Old Norse so he couldn't count on them to translate, and Nightmare could help him with Latin and Old French, so focusing on French first would be easier, and maybe he could pick out some words from Latin in the process ? He should have taken French in school instead of Spanish.

Dust returned to his seat, searching once more for some helpful websites with tips to learns the basics of French and Old Norse. He only found dictionaries for the latter.

- ᚹᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛞᛟ ᚹᛖ ᛋᛚᛖᚨᛈ ?

Dust had been in the middle of reading the dictionary when he almost jumped from his chair, not having noticed that Horror was now next to him. He was surprisingly quiet.

- Huh ?

Horror looked at him, frowned, understood that Dust didn't get what he said, and pointed at the window for Dust to take a look. It was night, the moon was high, and the clock on the wall said it was past one in the morning already. Right, they probably wanted to sleep.

But where would they sleep ? Dust only had one bed and one couch, no air mattresses, no extra mattresses either, and just a few extra pillows. He thought for a while, he couldn't share his bed, and he didn't particularly want to anyway, the couch could maybe hold two people on it but he doubted anyone would want to sleep this close to one another, so that left the floor, and the deckchairs he had in his backyard. Didn't vikings sleep outside anyway ?

Dust made a quick research and looked at Nightmare who had apparently finished his second book as the tablet was resting next to him on the couch.

- Hum.. dormir.. ?

Killer, Cross and Nightmare all looked at him. Well, seemed like "sleep" sounded the same in the three languages.

- Ubi ?

Killer asked, a question to which Dust didn't have the answer because he didn't know what ubi meant. He went on Google again, looking at the French translation for "where do you want to sleep".

- Où voulez.. vous dormir.. ?

He looked at Nightmare next, pointing at Killer to silently ask him to translate for him. Nightmare sighed, annoyed to be an intermediary, but still translated.

- Ubi vis dormire ?

Killer looked around for a second before answering.

- Ad angulum parietis.

Nightmare looked at him with surprise, frowning and tilting his head as if he just heard some big nonsense, but before Dust could ask what Killer had answered he saw him crossing the living room to go sit on the floor against the angle of the wall. Strange. But he seemed pleased. Dust kept staring for a few seconds before focusing on Cross and Nightmare again, waiting for their response. Nightmare was looking at the couch, that he didn't leave during all the evening to the point Dust wondered if it had become a sort of safe place for him, and simply sighed before rearranging the pillows. Seemed like the noble was going to sleep here tonight. Cross however stayed planted in front of the door, so Dust asked again.

- Dormir ?

- Eo ne poez dormir, eo doi monter la warde.

Dust didn't understand, but judging by the fact the knight didn't move, he figured that it a least meant he would stay by the door.

Dust then turned to Horror as he was the last one not having answered. He asked the question again, this time typing on his computer and showing him the translation as he didn't know how to pronounce it. Horror looked in wonder at the screen for a few seconds before focusing on reading, bending down a little, before standing up again and going to the bay window. He pointed at the backyard as he looked at Dust.

- Oh you want to sleep outside ? Sure, as long as you stay in the backyard.

Dust got up to open the door for him, going out with him to put a deckchair in place in case he wanted to use it.

Horror inspected it before nodding and giving Dust a pat on the shoulder. At least he wanted it to be a pat but the small skeleton was so light compared to his usual companions that he actually pushed him on the chair, much to Dust's surprise who looked up at him from where he was now laying. Horror looked guilty.

- Uh, i-it's okay, I'm fine, just.. didn't expect that.

He quickly reassured as he got up.

- Damn you're strong.

He muttered.

- ... ᛈᚨᚱᛞᛟᚾ.

Horror said, looking down. That sounded like an apology.

- It's okay, really, uh.. well.. sleep good ?

He gave him thumbs ups before quickly going back inside before the situation became more awkward.

Well, seemed like everyone was settled for the night, so Dust could go in his own room and get prepared for bed too. He had a day off the next day, he was originally planning to rest but that option was off the chart now.

He sighed and let his body collapse on his bed. He just hoped his apartment wouldn't be a mess in the morning. And that maybe they would dissappear too and this whole experience would turn out to be a big dream...

A very strange big dream...