#empire of the summer moon
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
antinativefaves · 11 months ago
Text
YOUR FAVE IS ANTI NATIVE: TAYLOR SHERIDAN AND S.C. GWYNNE
Tumblr media
Taylor Sheridan does not have the best track record when it comes to Indigenous representation, and the source material for this latest project (which also takes this opportunity away from an Indigenous filmmaker/director) is also immensely racist.
Merciless details all the problems with this book here on his Tiktok:
42 notes · View notes
subwaybooks · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Empire of the Summer Moon spans two astonishing stories. The first traces the rise and fall of the Comanches, the most powerful Indian tribe in American history. The second entails one of the most remarkable narratives ever to come out of the Old West: the epic saga of the pioneer woman Cynthia Ann Parker and her mixed-blood son Quanah, who became the last and greatest chief of the Comanches.
Although readers may be more familiar with the tribal names Apache and Sioux, it was in fact the legendary fighting ability of the Comanches that determined when the American West opened up. Comanche boys became adept bareback riders by age six; full Comanche braves were considered the best horsemen who ever rode. They were so masterful at war and so skillful with their arrows and lances that they stopped the northern drive of colonial Spain from Mexico and halted the French expansion westward from Louisiana. White settlers arriving in Texas from the eastern United States were surprised to find the frontier being rolled backward by Comanches incensed by the invasion of their tribal lands.
The war with the Comanches lasted four decades, in effect holding up the development of the new American nation. Gwynne’s exhilarating account delivers a sweeping narrative that encompasses Spanish colonialism, the Civil War, the destruction of the buffalo herds, and the arrival of the railroads, and the amazing story of Cynthia Ann Parker and her son Quanah—a historical feast for anyone interested in how the United States came into being.
Hailed by critics, S. C. Gwynne’s account of these events is meticulously researched, intellectually provocative, and, above all, thrillingly told. Empire of the Summer Moon announces him as a major new writer of American history.
2 notes · View notes
evelynstarshine · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
sentimentoz · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
motorsportbarbie13 · 11 days ago
Text
The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3
In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.
Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List
(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)
Monaco May 2024
F1GossipOfficial posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml
Tumblr media
Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??
Tumblr media
Amalfi Coast August 2024
maxverstappen1 posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too
Tumblr media Tumblr media
October 2024 Austin, Texas
You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.
While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.
Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.
While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.
You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.
After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.
While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.
Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.
Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.
"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.
You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."
"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."
Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.
"How far are you from the track?"
You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."
"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"
Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.
"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.
You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.
Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.
Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.
Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.
The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.
And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.
Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.
You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.
"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.
"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."
yourpersonalinsta posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)
Tumblr media
It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.
You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.
"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."
John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.
"She said yes."
You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.
Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.
"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."
Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.
Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.
"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."
Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.
"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."
"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.
"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."
You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."
"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"
You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"
"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."
You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."
You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.
"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.
You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."
"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"
You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.
"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."
You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"
Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."
The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."
"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"
Tumblr media
yourpersonalinsta story post
Tumblr media
story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.
TheYappingHour posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day
Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:
You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?
Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!
You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.
Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!
You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!
Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.
You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.
Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.
You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?
Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.
You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!
Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.
TheYappingHour posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby
Tumblr media
"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.
"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."
You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.
Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.
"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.
"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."
Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.
"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."
"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.
A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.
************************************************************************
It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.
A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.
"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.
Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."
You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.
"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."
Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.
As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.
He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?
Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.
Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.
Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.
"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"
Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.
"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."
Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.
"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.
"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"
And that's exactly what he does.
yourpersonalinsta posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.
Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99
1K notes · View notes
alightinthelantern · 1 year ago
Text
Movies on Youtube:
Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean)
Opening Night (1977, John Cassavetes)
Close Up (1990, Abbas Kiarostami)
Taste of Cherry (1997, Abbas Kiarostami)
The Song of Sparrows (2008,  Majid Majidi)
Russian Ark (2002, Alexander Sokurov)
Dreams (1990, Akira Kurosawa)
Dersu Uzala (1975, Akira Kurosawa)
The Idiot (1951, Akira Kurosawa)
Drunken Angel (1948, Akira Kurosawa)
Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujirō Ozu)
Early Summer (1951, Yasujirō Ozu)
Late Spring (1949, Yasujirō Ozu)
The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice (1952, Yasujirō Ozu)
Good Morning (1959, Yasujirō Ozu)
An Autumn Afternoon (1962, Yasujirō Ozu)
Sword for Hire (1952, Inagaki Hiroshi)
Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock)
Thunderbolt (1929, Josef von Sternberg)
Larceny (1948, George Sherman)
Among the Living (1941, Stuart Heisler)
Andrei Rublev (1966, Andrei Tarkovsky)
Mirror (1975, Andrei Tarkovsky)
Solaris (1972, Andrei Tarkovsky)
Ivan’s Childhood (1962, Andrei Tarkovsky)
Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972, Werner Herzog)
Fitzcarraldo (1982, Werner Herzog)
Medea (1969, Pier Paolo Pasolini)
Medea (filmed stageplay)
Is It Easy To Be Young? (1986, Juris Podnieks)
We'll Live Till Monday (1968, Stanislav Rostotsky)
Ordinary Fascism (aka Triumph Over Violence) (1965, Mikhail Romm)
Battleship Potemkin (1925, Sergei Eisenstein)
The Third Man (1949, Carol Reed)
Johnny Come Lately (1943, William K. Howard)
Mister 880 (1950, Edmund Goulding)
Beethoven’s Eroica (2003, Simon Cellan Jones)
Katyn (2007, Andrzej Wajda)
Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004, Brad Silberling)
Mean Girls (2004, Mark Waters)
The Neverending Story (1984, Wolfgang Petersen)
The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990, George T. Miller)
The Thief and the Cobbler (Richard Williams)
Osmosis Jones (2001, myriad directors)
Megamind (2010, Tom McGrath)
Ghost in the Shell (1995, Mamoru Oshii)
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004, Mamoru Oshii)
Steamboy (2004, Katsuhiro Otomo)
Badlands (1973), Terrence Malick
Wargames (1983, John Badham)
By the White Sea (2022, Aleksandr Zachinyayev)
White Moss (2014, Vladimir Tumayev)
The Theme (1979, Gleb Panfilov)
The Duchess (2008, Saul Dibb)
Bed and Sofa (1927, Abram Room)
Fate of a Man (1959, Sergei Bondarchuk)
Ballad of a Soldier (1959, Grigory Chukhray)
Uncle Vanya (1970, Andrey Konchalovskiy)
An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano (1977, Nikita Mikhalkov)
Family Relations (1981, Nikita Mikhalkov)
The Seagull (1970, Yuli Karasik)
My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978, Emil Loteanu)
Dreams (1993, Karen Shakhnazarov & Alexander Borodyansky)
The Vanished Empire (2008, Karen Shakhnazarov)
Winter Evening in Gagra (1985, Karen Shakhnazarov)
Day of the Full Moon (1998, Karen Shakhnazarov)
Zero Town (1989, Karen Shakhnazarov)
The Girls (1961, Boris Bednyj)
The Diamond Arm (1969, Leonid Gaidai)
Operation Y and Shurik's Other Adventures (1965, Leonid Gaidai)
Ivan Vasilievich Changes Profession (1973, Leonid Gaidai)
Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia (1974, Eldar Ryazanov & Franco Prosperi)
Office Romance (1977, Eldar Ryazanov)
Carnival Night (1956, Eldar Ryazanov)
Hussar Ballad (1962, Eldar Ryazanov)
Kin-dza-dza! (1986, Georgiy Daneliya)
The Most Charming and Attractive (1985, Gerald Bezhanov)
Autumn (1974, Andrei Smirnov)
War and Peace: Part 1 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)
War and Peace: Part 2 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)
War and Peace: Part 3 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)
War and Peace: Part 4 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)
The Red Tent (first half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)
The Red Tent (second half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)
Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939, Sidney Lanfield)
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939, Alfred L. Werker)
Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942, John Rawlins)
Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: The Spider Woman (1944, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: The Scarlet Claw (1944, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: The Pearl of Death (1944, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: The House of Fear (1945, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: The Woman in Green (1945, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: Pursuit to Algiers (1945, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: Terror by Night (1946, Roy William Neill)
Sherlock Holmes: Dressed to Kill (1946, Roy William Neill)
If any of the links don’t work, try looking up the film in this playlist: link
2K notes · View notes
moonreader1010 · 5 months ago
Text
Pac: how people perceive you<3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Note: 1. take what resonates.
2. Take a deep breath. Ask your spirit guides to help you choose the pile and choose the one that calls out to you.
3. Pictures used are from Pinterest. All rights go to the original owner.
Pile 1:
She'll put you in a trance at first glance
Don't wanna fall in love, but I'll take a chance
Tumblr media
straight up I got vision of this one picture that I saw on Pinterest a while back. It was a rabbit in an armour with some sort of spikey weapon and it said “soft but not available for mistreatment”. Very do not harm but take no shit vibes. I see major cancer placements. You can tame anyone. I keep getting beauty and the beast vibes. Like, you know how to tame people. People listen to you but I don’t see and boss employee kind of relationship but more like a goddess and her followers kind of relationship. I see you being hurt in the past. Was growing up difficult baby? Did someone hurt you? I wanna hug you right now. You are an inspiration. You are a warrior and you are so so strong and wise. I feel like we are getting away from the actual question of the reading but I feel like someone wanted me to tell you this hahah. So onto the question that how people perceive you, I think they can tell that you have been through something that changed you. Made you stronger and wiser. People definitely see you as someone who will nail the trope of “taming the bad boy” haha. But ofcourse remember that it’s not your job to fix anyone and I feel like you already know this. People see you as someone who dances in the rain, confident (lots of cards show me the theme of confidence actually), hopeful. They also see you as this boss lady (gender neutral). They see you as someone who is busy building empires.
Additional: student, business, garden, summer dresses, flowers.
Song: Dangerous woman by Wieland
Pile 2: You wear that cast so cool
And I'm in awe
A face like you've never seen before
Around
Tumblr media
people see you as someone who is constantly moving(it could be traveling or you know, making moves generally) you are not a still entity. You are always doing something. People see you as someone who is very private and mysterious. It’s hard to know anything about you. Moon seems to be really significant for some reason. People also see you as someone who cuts people of very quickly. No bullshit kinda person. You can deal with absence but won’t take disrespect. You are an achiever. People see you as someone who is constantly trying to learn something. You are open to experiences. You walk away from a situation that doesn’t serve you and that’s what many people admire about you. Young hear and old soul is what I keep hearing. People feel like they can come to you for help and also see you as someone who is very sensible.
Additional: wood, earth signs, moon, 3, heart on your sleeves, white flowers, driving far away.
Songs for you: Ever (foreign sleep) by team sleep.
Pile 3: Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watchin' her
But she's lookin' at you,
Tumblr media
people see you as someone who works really hard. They see you as someone who is very responsible and completes tasks like a pro. They see you as a leader. Is acts of services you love language? People feel like they can always count on you. You are always there to help people. You honestly are a great leader you know? Some people seem to see you as a rival. A competition. You make people competitive pile 3. People see you as someone who is very faithful. You are almost untouchable to people. You seem to be on an entire different level that they cannot reach. People see you as someone who is smart and has a way with words. You seem like someone who would do great in negotiations and business exchange lol.
Additional: ships, sea, commerce, green,
Song for you: this is what you came for by Calvin Harris and Rihanna. (Very Rihanna energy lol)
650 notes · View notes
esouliie · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE
(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)
– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?
– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)
– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡
[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
JULY 1992
The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.
Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.
“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.
Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.
“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.
Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.
She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.
"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"
“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."
You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.
 An angel flung out of space.
 "I can almost touch the stars!"
She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.
“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.
Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.
You both were happy.
It’s sad what became of you both.
All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.
At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.
“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”
A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.
She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.
Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.
Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.
You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.
You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
You’ll see her again tomorrow.
--
AUGUST 1997
“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.
“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.
The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.
Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.
You’d never felt like this before for anyone.
Only Natalia.
Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.
You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”
But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.
Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”
She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.
“I’m leaving.”
Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"
She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.
"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”
Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.
Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.
“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.
You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.
“I'll miss you too. Forever.”
The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.
“Natty?”
 Nothing.
A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.
In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.
That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.
You won’t see her again tomorrow.
--
APRIL 2001
From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.
Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.
Just as beautiful as you remembered.
You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.
Natalia?
Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.
She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.
Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.
None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.
“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.
Up close, the difference was unquestionable.
The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.
“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.
And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.
“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.
But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.
Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.
“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.
 You don’t follow her.
--
OCTOBER 2012
Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.
At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.
You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.
Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.
Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”
"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"
You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."
She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."
Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.
“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.
“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.
All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.
“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.
You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.
Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.
“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."
You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.
Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.
You read over her notes once more.
“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.
The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.
The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.
Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.
You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.
The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.
"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."
Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.
“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”
Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”
As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.
“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”
Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.
“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore
As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.
There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.
 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?
“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.
She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.
"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”
With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."
You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.
Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”
With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?
Tumblr media
376 notes · View notes
twstfanblog · 4 months ago
Text
Flings put this out to the masses and goes to sleep. You guys enjoy this raw of the Manhwa AU!!!
The manor was so silent at night. A rare occurrence since her parents loved to throw parties.
She wonders if they threw any parties after she-
A little girl walked through elegantly decorated halls, grand paintings of scenery and people hung between dimly lit sconces. She wore a flowing light purple nightgown, ruffles on every edge of the fabric with a delicate teal ribbon tied to a bow at her collar. Long black hair with a stark white underside pulled into twin low braids.
Yuu Crowleyl was eight years old, again, for some reason. But she couldn't really complain. It was better than bleeding out on the hot summer stairs…it was cold now that she thought about it. Looking out the grand windows of the manor, she realized they were frosted over. Bare trees seen through the ice in the chilly late hours of the night. She should have put her slippers on; papa had made her a knitted pair that looked like his snow boots she loved…
Soon, she came to the double doors, or what she remembered, of her parents' room. Yuu reached a small hand to one of the levers and quietly shuffled her way inside. 
She doesn't remember entering her parents' room much. She scarcely remembers them even entering her room, but maybe that could change. Yuu really liked the look of her parents' iridescent curtains covering the door to their large balcony. Walking closer to the lavishly dressed bed, she stared down at the rare uncovered face of her father.
Dire Crowley, Grand Duke of the Noctorn Empire, arguably one of the most powerful men in the land. And if you asked her papa, without a doubt, one of the most frustrating. He snored, mouth hanging open with his star and moon printed pajamas messy from his tossing and turning; a loveable embarrassment…
A gasp calls her eyes to look at the other side of the bed at her papa. Divus Crowley nee Crewel, Grand Duchess of the Noctorn Empire. He had his hair wrapped up in a fine patterned scarf and a hand clutching his silk robe closed, his eyes wide as he stared at her before huffing.
Divus leaned into his hand, taking care to not smudge the cream spread under his eyes as his lips turned into a scowl, “What are you doing up, puppy? I know it's far past your bedtime…” To any other child Divus looked as though he were annoyed to be dealing with his child, and he was. But years of knowing, loving, and being loved by her papa made her aware he was more so annoyed that his method of putting her to bed seemingly needed to be worked on again, not that she was bothering them.
“...” Yuu looked at her papa, blinking before taking in a shaky breath and whispering out her question, “Can I sleep with you?”
“...Oh, puppy…” Divus groans, an elegantly sharp nail tapping against his creased brow. His darling daughter was eight now. Close to the double digits and being expected to start behaving in a mature manner, yet still so painfully young. He had somehow managed to train his clingy toddler to sleep in her own bed years ago, a feat that was hard enough as is. But how was he to deny his puppy his comforting embrace when she was still so cute!?
Clasping his hands over his mouth, he breathed in. Raising an eyebrow at his strangely still daughter he asked, “Why do you want to sleep in our bed, puppy? You've never asked for such a thing before…”
Yuu blinks, taking in another quivering breath. It all seemed to be hitting her at once. The years of trying to befriend the men she grew to love, the years of neglect and disappointment. The fall, the crack, the pain, the blood.
“...I died…”
“...” Divus sat up straighter in his bed, eyes gaining a new worried flicker as he stared at his daughter, “What?”
“I-I…I…” she hiccuped, the tears finally welling in her eyes as her hands clenched onto her nightgown. Words lost as all she could do was take in shuddering gasps and let out pitiful chokes.
Divus slapped Dire's chest, each hit coming quicker and harder the more distressed Yuu's cries became, “Dire. Dire! Wake UP you crow BASTARD!”
Dire blinked his eyes open, bewildered why he was being forcibly woken in the middle of the night. His remark quickly lost on his tongue as he noticed his crying child right beside him, “Oh, my darling! What's made you cry like this?”
“Stop asking stupid questions and pull her into bed!” Divus slapped Dire’s shoulder, nearly punching the other man in an effort to bully him into doing as he said.
“Ow! I am!”
Yuu started to fully sob as Dire gently pulled her into the bed, placing her between the two fretting adults. She could feel their arms wrap around her, trying to soothe her tears with soft words and gentle pets. Her father had rung his service bell like a mad man, no doubt sending the servants into a panic and scrambling to heed his call. Soon a flustered servant ran into the room, Dire ordering them  to bring a midnight snack selection, anything to ease his child's crying. Yuu didn't get the chance to eat any of the snacks, having slipped into a pitiful slumber locked in her papa's arms.
She had somehow traveled back in time over a decade, long before her death and betrayals. And as she laid curled between her loving parents, she made the decision that her old life wasn't worth repeating a second time. She knew her heart couldn't take it again…
133 notes · View notes
houseofpurplestars · 9 months ago
Text
On April 11th, 2019, Israel sends a space probe to the moon. It explodes on impact.
BORN of Holy Space, she is sister
to stone. knows each smooth defense
littering occupied Ground. Holy
Ground. she whispers stories of how we built
our homes / laying stone gentle atop one another
dabke hard on soil
sending stories of how children see if stones,
too, float in the dead sea.
israel sends a space probe to the moon & it explodes on impact.
LISTEN. the moon is pro-Palestine.
moon remembers when she was part of the earth / remembers when land was one / craters filled with water waiting to be named holy / a people knowing what it always was, tending to orchards with twisted roots older than sea level / sung prayers tucked into breakfasts of bread and cheese / throats uneroded / calling on our daughters / ya ‘amar ya ‘amar ya banat al ‘amar / asking of us beauty / strength
holy earth sends stories of children / gripping rocks so hard their life lines become granite rings.
Children scratching at empire / criminalized. what is a blemish to an empire? man-made death machines plummet into the surface of the moon / scratch for conquest.
o holy Ground. those who separated us will not be forgiven.
there is no blemish to her light. in eulogy of the Children who have joined the stars
she fights back
203 notes · View notes
tigwalen · 2 months ago
Text
For those not aware, Taylor Sheridan is reportedly making a movie from the book "Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History" By, S. C. Gwynne. This book is supposedly based on stories from the Comanche tribe.
If you speak to actual Comanche people there is a lot of talk about the author of the book, and if you read this post you can see a Comanche person talking about how Gwynne did not consult Quanah's family or even the tribe at all for sources. There is talk of the Comanche being portrayed unfairly and even racist and stereotypical portrayals at times- I hear the words "Stone aged" is used from time to time.
This is a statement from the Comanche about said book, keep that in mind when you see anything about an upcoming film.
89 notes · View notes
viesanterieures · 9 months ago
Text
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader
summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.
warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)
word count: 2500+
Masterlist
Tumblr media
The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."
He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.
"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."
I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.
"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.
"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."
"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.
YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.
"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.
"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.
"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.
He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.
"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.
"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.
"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.
"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"
YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"
Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"
"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.
Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."
YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.
"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.
***
"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.
"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.
"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."
"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.
A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."
Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."
YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."
"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.
"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.
"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?
"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."
Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.
Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.
He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.
"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."
Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.
"And open your eyes."
Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.
"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"
He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.
"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."
"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."
Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."
"You can have it if you want," YN offered.
He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"
She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."
Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"
"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."
"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"
Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.
"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.
"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.
"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.
"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."
"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.
***
"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.
"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.
"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.
"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.
"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.
YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."
"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.
"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.
Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."
"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."
"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.
"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.
"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.
"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.
For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.
"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.
"Let‘s do this, YN."
****
"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.
"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.
"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"
"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.
"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.
YN looked at her, confused. "What?"
"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.
"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.
"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.
"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."
YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.
"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.
"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.
"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.
Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.
"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“
Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.
Tumblr media
- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔
114 notes · View notes
rebelpeas · 4 months ago
Text
oli is a wanderer. he’s carefree, on the move, untethered, and he can even mostly pretend he doesn’t miss a home he’s never had. a chance hitchhike introduces him to a strange-but-handsome driver who goes only by pix, and oli buckles up for the latest in a long string of short-term companionship.
pix is like oli: he has no roots and no reason to stay. oli likes that in a man, almost as much as the greying ponytail, wry sense of humour, and air of mystery. but what he intends to be a brief and beautiful summer fling turns into something much deeper when pix’s secrets unravel a thread between oli’s recurring dreams of home and the nightmare haunting them both.
this fic is 10k of roadtrip horror aro4aro love story that can be easily read fandom blind. it’s the best thing i’ve written in a year. if you’re looking for those Hoorayy Fic Vibes™️ you will find them here. happy olipix forever
56 notes · View notes
shkatzchen · 21 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
There is the moral of all human tales; 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past. First freedom and then Glory – when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption – barbarism at last. And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page... -Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
Thomas Cole used this passage to advertise his series of five paintings, "The Course of Empire," completed between 1833 and 1836. All five paintings are done from approximately the same perspective.
The first painting, The Savage State, or The Commencement of Empire, portrays the ideal of nature, a healthy world unchanged by humanity. It is daybreak and the seeds of civilization are planted. This progresses to The Arcadian, or The Pastoral State, shows summer, where humanity has progressed in the arts and sciences and wilderness has begun to be tamed. Although humanity remains at peace with the land, subtle signs are shown of the dark nature of man and emerging imperial ambition.
The third painting, The Consummation of Empire jumps to the height of empire, decadence dripping from every stroke. There is royalty, diversity, triumphant generals and grandiose buildings. Yet hidden within are the seeds of its downfall. This comes in Destruction, the fourth, where the Empire is under attack. The city is sieged and sacked, enemies have come from without and discord has come from within. The women are brutalized and the buildings destroyed.
The series ends in Desolation. The ruins of the city are being swallowed by the wilderness, illuminated by the last dregs of daylight as the moon rises. Humanity is nowhere to be found, destroyed at its own hand. The empire is extinct.
The cycle reflects Cole's pessimism and may be a condemnation of Andrew Jackson and his Democratic Party. Others, such as SCOTUS Justice Levi Woodbury, insisted America would not fall to destruction, but would continue ever upward.
The Course of Empire is Base Game Compatible and comes in six swatches per each painting for thirty swatches total.
The mesh comes from @thejim07 and is used with permission.
Download from Simfileshare here.
Made with S4S.
23 notes · View notes
diacripticcomplex · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yui POV:
I have been a priestess of Vesta since I was 7 years old, I loved serving the goddess and protecting the flame. It has been ten years since I took the vows, to remain chaste, we are the Vestal Virgins after all, I never craved sex or even knew what it was like..I didn't even have my first kiss, it's somewhat embarrassing to think of. My knees were beginning to hurt the more I prayed, so I decided to wrap up my nightly prayers, it was getting late, I think everyone was pretty much fast asleep.
The nightly walks from the temple to the villa dorms were always lovely, the warm summer night breezes felt so nice. I look up at the stars, the moon was ever so full. I was so captivated by the sight of the moon, I didn't notice the horrid events that were about to occur...the scream of one of the priestess sent a shockwave through my entire body. What was going on..? 
  I turn from the moon and get struck by a taller figure, I didn't see their face, everything went black. 
   I don't know how much time had passed since I was struck, I woke up finding myself bound in heavy chains, the smell of smoke and blood filled the area I was confined in. It was dark so I could barely see anything. I heard the never ending screams of my sister vestals. They were being tortured..was the great roman empire being invaded right now..? No roman would touch the vestals...who is doing this to us? The door opens, there is no light but I feel a hand grabbing me, yanking me out and into the next area,  there was barely a lit torch, I couldn’t make out who it was. I heard the laughter of men, that disgusting laughter as they did whatever to us. I was abruptly pushed down to what felt like a wooden bench or table I couldn’t tell. I hit my head back hard against it, I think I even began to bleed a little.
“Don’t you tire of torturing them?” One of the men said to the others, his voice sounded irritated as if he had better things to do. “Of course not, virgin blood is the best after all~” the other replied, he somewhat sang the last part. What did they mean by virgin blood? Were they creatures of the night that were in stories? What exactly were these men and what did they intend to do to us…the anticipation was killing me, so I decided to speak up and ask.
“Who are you…?” I quietly asked. There was a brief moment of silence before one of them chuckled out. “We’re sent from the afterlife to take beautiful vestal virgins” the one who answered was the same one from before with the singing tune at the end of his speech only his voice sounded deadly serious. They approached me, with their torches in hand, I got a better look at them, they were so beautiful, I’ve never seen men look this way before. There were 6 of them, all of them had a unique appearance. My eyes began scanning them, they had blood on their faces and hands, as well as their cloaks.
“Shes got a nice face, let’s mess her up” a bright green eyed man said, his hair was a vibrant red, it was beautiful his eyes captivated me, was this love at first sight..? I was unsure. His hand grabbed around my neck harshly, he gripped it tightly, I couldn’t barely breathe, just a little. Before I could muster up the courage to tell him to unhand me he bit my neck, I let out a sharp gasp, it was extremely painful, what was worse was I could feel my blood leaving my body as he took sips, he was slaking his thirst as I grew numb. “Her blood smells amazing…Ayato share!” one of the other guys yelled out, he had vibrant soft purple hair, I’ve never seen any human with hair of that royal color. Soon all of them were all over me, biting into me. Two of them, one had raven hair and the other a blondish color were biting into my wrists, the redheaded man, Ayato was slurping from my lips, he stole my first kiss in the worst way possible. Another redheaded man was drinking from my foot, the purple haired one was by my other foot, and lastly my thigh was being ripped apart by a white haired man, he was so beautiful his eyes were terrifyingly red. I felt life draining from me, and suddenly they all stopped , much to my surprise honestly. They all seemed to have gotten full and drunk off my blood.
My clothes were soaked in blood, I felt disgusting I wanted a bath. I wanted to be freed from these creatures of the night. Ayato looked at me with so much lust in his eyes then tore of my tunic , exposing my naked body, my face flushed red I was terrified. They were going to defile me…if they were Romans they would have been executed for this…Ayato wasted no time, he turned me around and inserted himself within me, it was very painful at first, he didn’t kiss me or touch me gently, just roughly stroked inside me, faster and faster. “Ayato she’s a virgin you should go easier on her, the poor little bitch~” the other redhead sang again. He decided to take over to show Ayato how it’s supposed to be done. They took their turns on me, all of them, I didn’t think my first time would be a gang rape…I closed my eyes, wanting for it to be over.
32 notes · View notes
theresattrpgforthat · 1 year ago
Note
Any games thematically similar to Fallen London? Blades in the Dark helps me scratch that itch on the tabletop, but there are probably others.
THEME: Fallen London.
Hello friend! So first of all, I’d recommend checking out the free ttrpg Skyfarer, written by Grant Howitt & Chris Taylor, and released by Failbetter Games, as it’s the canonical Sunless Skies TTRPG. So it’s set in the same universe! I’ve talked about it before in one of my Free Games posts.
Now that that’s covered, let’s see what else is out there.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Do Not Fear, by Hella Big Claws.
Do Not Fear is a Forged In the Dark Tabletop Roleplaying game, about accepting the fleetingness of life; and using the strength that gives you in order to combat a growing stagnation.
Fight as a Hunter, a person who has been given a Gift of Bloom; a fungus like infection that allows for incredible strength and regenerative ability; in exchange for subsuming your flesh as you die.
Combat or save the Rusted; living creatures infected by a growing viral stagnation; marbling their bones and rusting their flesh; sculpting them into horrifyingly beautiful creations.
Ascend the Tower; a large, multilayered structure which you call home. Interact with the factions and people within, as you set down roots.
This game is on my to-buy list for sure, as I love FitD games and I’m intrigued by the themes of infection and stagnation that appear in this game. This game is still very much in-progress and so there might be some bugs to work out, but thanks to the Itch.io Summer Sale, this game is currently half-off! Honestly the cover art draws me in as well, and I’m hoping that the designer has more in store where that came from, because I find it very evocative, and I’m interested to see where this game goes.
Beneath a Cursed Moon, by Karrius.
Beneath a Cursed Moon is a Gothic fantasy game that uses a system based on the Apocalypse World engine. Take the role of monster hunters and slay vampires, werewolves, mermen, and more in a game inspired by Castlevania and Bloodborne.
I’m seeing a lot of ties between Fallen London, Blades in the Dark, and Bloodborne, which is why if a game has Bloodborne in it’s list of inspirations, I add it to the list. Beneath a Cursed Moon is a pay-what-you-want PbtA game that focuses primarily on monster-slaying. Because it expects you as a group to create and tailor your own unique setting, I can see creating a space that evokes the same tone as Fallen London as pretty feasible. There are 11 different playbooks to choose from, and a whole section of monsters and monster-creation guidelines that give the GM plenty to work with. You should absolutely check out this game.
Vigilant, by Ill Advised Gaming.
Vigilant is a Gothic Victorian world of monsters and churches and eldritch secrets. Of Blood and Beasts and Hunters. Of Dreams and Nightmares.
Using a combination of rules from Caltrop Core and Powered by the Apocalypse, this should be a pretty easy-to-learn system. You’ll make moves similar to PbtA games, but you’ll roll pools of d4’s, similar to Caltrop Core. Characters also have a shared resource called Momentum, which represent show you can affect the narrative using assets present on your character sheet. Setting-wise, the world of industry is introducing new monsters to a world already fraught with the terrors of the ancient. Your characters are monster-hunters who find themselves empowered by the Covenants: knights, scientists, hunters, and more.
The game is still in early-access, so not all of the character options are available yet, but the setting itself fucking slaps. You should check it out.
Unhallowed Metropolis, by Strix Publishing.
It has been two hundred years since first the outbreak of the Plague, when the dead rose to feed on the flesh of the living. Countless millions perished in the chaos that followed. It was the dawn of a new dark age.
London, the capital of the Neo-Victorian Empire, is a vast, densely crowded city. Beneath the towering walls and crackling Tesla towers, where the fallout of a thousand crematoria darkens the streets, ten-million souls live in squalor. Predators, human and inhuman, stalk the slums and rookeries, preying on the unwary and the helpless. Beneath the haunted streets, resurrection men and body snatchers hock their grisly wares at blood-stained meat markets. Their clients are degenerate ghouls and amateur anatomists who practice the outlawed science of reanimation.
This game inspired by authors such as Mary Shelley and Edgar Allen Poe. It uses a point-buy character creation system, and allows you to play Dhampirs, Mad Doctors, Aristocrats, Criminals and so much more. This is a game about noir tropes, a Victorian post-apocalypse, and zombies. One of my favourite pieces of this game is the character class of the Mourners, who are a group of women hired to stand by the bedsides of the recently deceased, ready to decapitate them at the first sign of re-animation.
If you want to hear an actual-play of this game, the long-standing AP podcast Fandible has a campaign that is one of the longest-running games on their feed. You can hear from their play how much of a dearly-loved game this is.
What Lies Beneath the Darkness, by Cezar Capacle.
What Lies Beneath the Darkness is a gaslamp fantasy game about intrigue and struggle. 
You play as a Horror employed by a faction to expand their dominance over the victorianesque city of Ravenswatch, while you fight to balance the human and supernatural natures that inhabit you.
You will face the dark streets of Ravenswatch performing missions for your faction. You live an internal battle between your human links and your dark instincts, between what you want and what your faction demands.
This is a GM-less game that puts factions front-and-center, with both solo and multiplayer options. The game uses the Push system, which allows you to push-your-luck for better results, with a possibility of going too far, which I really really love. The game is gaslamp-gothic and supernatural, and puts the characters in fraught positions where they must work for more powerful masters, struggling not to fall into their personal darkness. I’m very very intrigued by this game.
Games I’ve Recommended Before
Slayers, by Gila RPGs.
18XX Night, by Deep Light Games.
The Between, by The Gauntlet.
266 notes · View notes