#it's in Dutch though so you might have to google the translation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

postracehair · 21 days ago

Text

a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #f1 fanfic #my writing #mv33 #fic: a small request #beep boop

997 notes · View notes

s-awturn · 2 months ago

Text

Other Plans || F1 Grid

cw: babies being cute, still a little anguish, overcoming, deliverance (hehehehe) and I don't know what else to say. Spanish, French, and some poorly translated Dutch, blame Google.

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1,

a/n: I rarely get requests for part 2, so don't judge me if I'm excited here. I loved writing the first part and I hope to make the second part just as good.

f i r s t p a r t

LEWIS HAMILTON.

You never regretted leaving.

As you might have guessed, Lewis never called or cared and even though you knew he wouldn't call, it didn't hurt any less. You had hopes that he would care, that he would come around, but he never took a step towards you and you wouldn't make the first move. You and the baby — a healthy, restless girl —didn’t need him.

The first few months were not easy, by God, dealing with all the changes of pregnancy, the demands of work, as well as cleaning and organizing your home was the hardest thing in the world.

But it was all worth it when you held your little girl in your arms for the first time. Bree was beautiful and had powerful lungs, because she cried so loudly when you laughed with happiness at having her. Not even the fact that she had the same eyes as Lewis shook his happiness. She was yours, and nothing in the world would change that.

You, your mother and Bree were walking down one of the streets of London looking for Christmas decorations, Bree was on your lap, looking at everything curiously, you hadn't taken her to London yet, both because you wanted her to get used to the climate and the quiet life in Naples and because of fear, you still didn't feel ready to face Lewis, because you knew he was always in England, mainly in the capital.

“Mamma, look!” she pointed to the store across the street, with the Christmas decorations you were looking for. You gave a proud smile and kissed her cheek.

“Good job, little bee, let’s go get our colorful balls from Santa Claus” you crossed the street and due to carelessness, you ended up tripping over someone. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t y-...” you started to say, however your voice trailed off as you recognized fucking Lewis Hamilton.

“Y/N?” His eyes, identical to Bree’s, widened as he recognized you and the baby in your arms. You straightened up, hugging Bree against you.

“Lewis, how are you?” you said cordially, but there was no sympathy in your voice.

“Mhmm, Well, I'm fine... And you?”

“Wonderfully,” you remained impassive. “Well, Merry Christmas, Lewis,” you said, walking past him until your name was called by the pilot.

“I thought you would give me news...” he hesitated for a few seconds “news about her” Lewis’ eyes fell on Bree, who was looking at him with the same curiosity.

“And why should I, Lewis? You said you didn’t want to have a baby, that it would hinder your career.” You hit a nerve with Lewis, because since your departure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing. “I had no obligation and have no obligation to give you news about my daughter.”

He came closer and you kept Bree away from him, you accepted and healed from the pain Lewis caused you, but you wouldn't allow him to do the same to your sweet little girl. Bree didn't deserve to be hurt by Lewis's selfishness.

“She’s mine too, Y/N, you can’t stop me from seeing her” he said and you finally lost your patience, so you asked your mother to take Bree to the store, you would meet them in a few minutes.

“Don’t use that horrible argument with me, Lewis Hamilton!” you pointed your finger in his face. “You made it clear that you didn’t want her! You never called to find out about her, not for me or my mother, so don’t come with ‘she’s mine too’ because I won’t fall for that! You didn't even think twice before saying you didn't want her! And now you want to demand your rights? What the fuck rights do you think you have?”

He took a step back, Lewis didn't expect you to have such an intense outburst of anger.

“Y/N, I-I wanted to turn things around, go after you,” he bit his lip, thinking about how to continue, “but I was embarrassed... But now I'm willing-...”

“But I’m not willing, Bree doesn’t need you, I don’t.” you said emphatically “My daughter doesn’t need you, your regret or anything that comes from you!”

He tried to articulate some sentence, but no sound came out of his mouth.

“Oh, that is if you have any shame, of course. But don’t worry, when Bree grows up, I’ll tell her about you and she’ll decide whether she wants you in her life or not.” You assured “Until then, continue being the ghost you have been for these two years”

And without giving him a chance to respond, you follow your mother and Bree into the store, trying to ignore the panic that was ravaging your entire body, you felt like you were about to faint. But hearing Bree's spontaneous, sweet laugh was like feeling a cool breeze on a hot day; you didn't know how, but you were sure that Lewis would stay away.

And you didn't lie, Bree didn't need him, and neither did you. Your job was more than enough to maintain and take care of all of Bree's needs, you didn't lie when you said he wasn't needed, in nothing.

Finally you could sleep peacefully knowing that Lewis was what he wanted to be in your lives, a shadow.

On the sidewalk, Lewis saw you enter the store and through the window, he could see you and Bree together, it was clear how much the little girl was loved and well cared for. Lewis tried to imagine what the two years he had lost of his life, of the life of the daughter whose name he didn't even know, had been like. He thought of all the little moments he had missed.

There were few things Lewis truly regretted in his life, and letting you go and not being able to see Bree grow up was, without a doubt, the biggest regret he carried.

CARLOS SAINZ.

Sometimes you wondered how you had the courage to consider the idea of giving your twins up for adoption. You weren't lying when you said that the twins were the best part of your life. At five years old, the identical twins made your days in the French capital — the city you moved to after breaking up with Carlos — much happier and more joyful.

You didn't even care if the two of them were little carbon copies of the Carlos; Santiago, the older twin, seemed to have inherited much of Carlos' personality, he was a little reserved and even shy and loved board games, preferred books to any electronic game and loved football, while Martín had a lot of you in him, expansive and restless, your youngest son loves logic games like Rubik's cube and puzzles and was completely addicted to any kind of racing.

And they were little fanatical Atlético de Madrid fans, which you found sweet irony.

And it was this love for the Spanish club that convinced you to take them to Spain, so that the two could watch the Madrid Derby at the Cívitas Metropolitano, Atlético's official stadium in the city of Madrid. Thanks to your work as a digital influencer, you could give your twins the experience of watching the game directly from the stadium's box.

“C'est le meilleur cadeau d'anniversaire au monde! Merci maman!” (This is the best birthday present in the world! Thanks mommy!) Martín said, hugging you before running to the fence and seeing the field, where the players were warming up.

“Tu es la meilleure au monde, maman” (You are the best in the world, mommy) Santiago said before joining his brother at the railing. You sat down next to Andie.

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to bring them to Madrid just to watch the game,” her best friend said, also keeping her eyes on the twins.

“It’s their birthday and I had to come to Madrid anyway for work, so I thought I could combine business with pleasure... And I don’t plan on stopping my boys from having good experiences because of Carlos.”

In five years, you never received a text or call from Carlos to see how the twins were doing, or to see how you were handling things. Since their birth, it had been you, the twins, and Andie —she moved to Paris as well. You weren't lying, the first few months were horrible, you truly believed that you wouldn't be a good mother or be able to take care of two babies at the same time.

But Andie was an angel to you and your boys, helping you through the best and worst times. So much so that before long, Carlos was just an old and unwanted memory in your life.

When the game went into halftime, you and Andie took the boys to the snack bar in the box to get something to eat. You hadn't noticed that you were being watched since you entered the diner, Carlos had seen you, Andie and the boys entering. The pilot didn't expect to find you there, especially with two boys who looked like they were five years old.

Without thinking twice, he approached, keeping his eyes on the boys who wore Atlético shirts and their names on the back.

Santiago and Martín.

“Y/N?” he said fearfully, catching her attention. Carlos saw surprise flash in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy indifference. "How long"

“That’s right, it’s been a long time.” You placed your hands on the boys’ shoulders, aware that they were both shocked.

“C'est Carlos Sainz” Martín spoke softly to Santiago with wide eyes, not that Carlos was his favorite pilot, but the boy didn't expect you to know the pilot.

“These are Martín and Santiago, my sons.” You said, introducing the boys, watching the astonishment appear on Sainz’s face.

“What’s up guys? Enjoying the game?” he said, after a few seconds of shock. You knew what was going on in his head, Carlos was doing the math.

“We don’t talk to Real Madrid fans,” Santiago said with indifference and pulled Martín away from Carlos. You were so surprised that you laughed out loud, watching Carlos’ discomfort grow even more.

“I’m going after the brats and… And I think you guys need to talk,” Andie said, following the twins back to the to their seats.

You turned completely to Carlos, for a long time you missed him, especially when you wanted him to see the boys' first steps or when they spoke for the first time. You wanted him to see how special and good your children were, but he never cared.

It took a while, but eventually it stopped hurting.

Since then, all you felt was pity, because Martín and Santiago were absurdly adorable, loving and incredible children, anyone who could have them in their lives was lucky as hell.

“I didn't think I would go through with the pregnancy" he said and you sighed.

“And I wasn’t going to, but everything changed when I held them in my arms for the first time... I knew I could never leave them” you said and a smile appeared on your face.

“My parents would love to meet you... I would like to-” He starts to say but you interrupt him, already tired of that conversation.

“You wouldn’t like anything, Carlos, you have nothing to offer my boys but abandonment and cowardice,” you replied harshly.

He swallowed hard, Carlos looked embarrassed and regretful, but you didn't care, just like he didn't care about leaving you alone in that hospital.

“Y/N please understand, I wasn’t ready and-”

“I wasn’t either, Carlos,” you interrupted him, having no patience for his excuses. “I was simply thrown alone, in the middle of the hurricane, so if that’s your excuse, improve it.”

Your gaze towards him was hard, there really was nothing that could justify abandoning him.

“If it weren’t for Andie, I don’t even know where I would be right now! Maybe they’d both be in an orphanage or something, living on the streets.” Your voice was forceful, punishing, and accurate. “I almost, almost acted like a coward with them too, but I remembered that they had already lost their father, they couldn't be without their mother too.”

Carlos hunched over slightly, like you had just hit him in the face and damn, he wished you had.

“I will tell them about you, everything they want to know and if they want to look for you, I will not stop them, but until then, do not think that your presence near them will be welcome”

And you went back to where Andie and the boys were, you were surprised to notice that Martín hadn't taken his eyes off you for a moment. Your protective little boy...

You swallowed a painful sigh and stopped the tears from welling up in your eyes.

“Est-ce qu'il t'a fait du mal, maman?” (Did he hurt you, mommy?) He asked as soon as you sat down, you gave a calm smile and denied.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t worry.” you assured, sliding your fingers through his hair, Martín kept his eyes on you. “Are you enjoying the game?”

“Damn!” he said excitedly and you narrowed your eyes.

“What language is that, young man?” you asked, and he smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.

“It was an accident, mommy... Don't be mad, please,” he asked, making the same lost puppy face that Carlos had. My God, you thought it was impossible for them to look so much alike, but the twins were in fact carbon copies of Carlos.

“Go watch the game, I’m watching you” he nodded and ran to Santiago’s side, you sighed and saw Andie sit next to you. “I thought it would be worse”

“Me too... But you did well, to be honest, I thought you were going to throw the chair at him” Andie confessed and you laughed.

“Almost... I'll tell them the truth when we get back to Paris... And I'll let them decide whether they want to approach him or not.” you said, trying to keep your nervousness from setting in ahead of schedule. You would deal with the consequences when they came, that moment was just about the boys, would not spoil it with anxious thoughts and nervousness.

On the other side of the box, Carlos couldn't pay attention to the game, his mind was divided between the game and you and the twins. Carlos thought about how selfish he had been, he thought about how he would like to go back in time and change everything, to be able to live every little moment with you and the boys.

Carlos would like to be less stupid, but there was no way anymore.

CHARLES LECLERC.

After almost seven years, you were back in France, your parents were asking — or demanding, depending on your point of view — that you and Vivienne spend Mother's Day in the south of France. It was the first time since Vivienne was born that you had returned to Europe and although you loved the feeling of being home again, you couldn't help but be apprehensive, after all you didn't know if you were prepared for the possibility of meeting Charles. But you didn't let those thoughts ruin Vivienne's experience, the girl looked like she was going to explode at any moment with so much happiness.

The two of you took the train from Paris to Bordeaux, and Vivienne couldn't tear herself away from the window, enchanted by the romantic landscape of the French countryside, she commented on every little thing, unable to contain the excitement that made her shine.

“Let’s go to the dining car, amour, You need to eat.” You called her, trying to attract the girl’s attention, who seemed much more interested in the castle that disappeared through the train window.

“Will there be croissants, maman?” Vivienne finally turned away from the window.

“Of course, amour. Let’s go before they eat it all, shall we?” you led her out into the hallway, Vivienne chattered on and on, listing the things she had liked the most so far, that's why she still made a point of greeting the other passengers.

“It’s more beautiful here than Montreal, Mom...”

“Would you like to live here?”

She stopped in the hallway for a few seconds before turning to you, the indecision was clear on her little face “I don’t think so, I would miss home... And my friends, but we can come on vacation?”

“We can come to France whenever possible, amour.” you assured her.

The dining car was half full, but that wasn't what caught his attention, but rather coming across such familiar crystal-clear eyes. You knew the chances of meeting Charles in France were 50-50, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly; suddenly you remembered why you spent so long away from your homeland. You saw Charles' smile disappear and his gaze fall on the girl in front of him, who, although she didn't look exactly like him, carried many of Leclerc's features in her own features.

“Let's sit at the table by the window, okay maman?” Vivienne asked, skipping over to the empty table, she didn’t even look to the side as she passed Charles.

"Of course, papillon, (butterfly) we can sit wherever you want.” You said, thankful that your voice came out steady, without showing the mess that was inside you.

You made Vivienne sit with her back to Charles, listening to the girl talk excitedly about the fields full of vineyards and the lavender plantations. Vivienne knew from the age of five because it was just you and her, you didn't want to wait too long to tell her the truth behind why just you were the one who went to the Father's Day presentations at her school. You remembered the pain tearing through your chest as you comforted your little girl who went to sleep crying for weeks on end, or all the times she asked why her father didn't like her. You wouldn't let anything bring that pain to Vivienne again, even if you had to throw Charles Leclerc out the train window.

“You’re not the waiter.” Vivienne’s inquisitive voice snapped you out of your reverie and you looked up to find Charles standing next to your table. Panic spread through you like wildfire. Vivienne knew that the man standing next to the table was her father, you didn't do much to hide it. “If you’re not the waiter, why did you come?”

“You have your mother’s sharp tongue,” he said, and you noticed the shadow of a smile on his face. “I’m Charles—”

“Leclerc, I know, I watch TV” she said, crossing her fingers on the table, you blinked a little dazed and took control of the situation, Vivienne didn't need to face a situation like that, not with you around to protect her, as you had been doing since her birth.

“What do you want, Charles?” you questioned seriously, the seven years away from him made you create a strong shield against the pilot's charm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at you, there was no anger or contempt in his gaze, it had taken you the same seven years to understand that it had all been a huge failure in communication, however, that did not allow this to cause any more harm to Vivienne.

“I...” he stuttered, his gaze going from you to Vivienne without stopping “I came to greet you and...” he left the sentence hanging in the air, waiting for you or your daughter to reveal her name.

“You don’t need to know my name,” Vivienne said and your eyes widened.

You saw Charles' mouth open in pure astonishment, if you weren't expecting an answer like that, imagine him.

“What do you want, Charles? I don’t remember inviting you to join us,” you teased, enjoying his discomfort. You could forgive what had happened years ago, after all it wasn't anyone's fault he didn't want kids, but you fucking couldn't forget how it destroyed Vivienne for weeks. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you, and you are disturbing us.”

“Y/N I wanted to say that I'm sorry that all of this happened and...” his voice becomes a weak and distant thread, you just shake your head and raise your hand.

“There is nothing to be forgiven, Charles. That's in the past, there's no reason to bring it up again," you said sincerely, letting out a tired sigh. You wanted it to end soon, you wanted to get to Bordeaux soon. “Forget about it, leave everything in the past and go back to your girlfriend, we've been fine the last seven years without you, the next seven will be even easier, don't waste time worrying about us, we don't need you.”

He hadn't meant to be cruel or rude, but he wouldn't allow a sliver of it to reach Vivienne. Charles just nodded and walked away, you looked at Vivienne, who had tears in her eyes.

“Ma princesse,” you grabbed her hand, watching the little girl swallow her tears and give a weak smile.

“It’s okay, mom, I have you, it’s okay,” she said and went back to looking at the landscape through the window. You noticed that Charles had left. “I don’t need a father who didn’t want me”

You left the chair you were in and went to hug Vivienne, letting the girl feel how much she was loved, how much she didn't need Charles “I'm so proud of you, darling, so proud”

Outside, Charles was hyperventilating, he hadn't expected it to end like this, nor had he expected it to feel like a punch to his stomach. Suddenly, he questioned whether the choices he had made over the past seven years were good. But it didn't matter anymore, he had lost you and any chance of having... Having a family he never wanted.

It was already too late.

LANDO NORRIS.

Jordan looked at the cupcake with bright eyes, you wanted to cry when you saw the smile on your little boy's face. It was late afternoon and you wanted Jordan to be able to celebrate his first birthday on the beach, creating sand castles and playing with water.

“Happy birthday, my baby, I wish you to be blessed with happiness and love throughout your life.” you whispered, helping him blow out the candle. Jordan chuckled, grabbing the icing, smearing the blue sweetness all over his face. You let Jordan play in the sand and thought about everything that led them to that little beach in Spain.

After breaking up with Lando and receiving a court order that he didn't want to be related to you or the baby, you didn't know what to do with your life, I had a college degree, good internship experiences, but no one would hire a pregnant woman. With limited options and no support network, you've relied on the most unstable form of work: the internet. Your life wasn't the most glamorous or adventurous in the world, but people enjoyed watching you. You didn't care about fame or being known in places, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of the baby, make sure he always had a roof over his head and food on the table. No matter what shit you would do to make sure Jordan lacked for nothing.

Anything but crawling after Lando, begging for help or whatever the hell he could give.

You let Jordan play until he got tired, and only when the boy was almost asleep in the sand, you picked him up and decided to go back to the hotel. You balanced Jordan on your lap as you searched for your room key when you heard your name being called. You didn't expect to find Lando Norris in the lobby of the hotel you were staying at.

Not even by a miracle.

“What do you want here, Norris?” you asked, but you didn’t give him time to answer, you just continued on your way to the elevator. You heard him follow you and kept Jordan out of his sight.

“I want to talk to you,” he said tentatively. You stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, as far away from Lando as possible. “Is it his birthday?”

“And why does that matter to you, Norris? You’re nothing to him,” you said dryly, giving him a hard look.

He didn't even know what to answer, you couldn't understand what he was doing there, not after a year and seven months, not after that damn letter. What did he want there? Guarantee you wouldn't ask him for money? Ridiculous.

“If you want to know if I need your money, don’t worry, we don’t need anything from you”

Lando exhaled, you wouldn't give him a step, leaving him frustrated.

“I didn’t come for this... I know you’re... You’re dealing with everything well, I wanted...”

“What do you want, Norris? To see if I'm trying to scam someone to support my son? Being a gold digger?”

“Y/N I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, been...”

“What do you regret? Saying that I got pregnant so you could support me? That I wanted to pull the pregnancy scam on you? Or have you come to give me another court notice to deny your parentage with Jordan? If that's the case, don't worry, if it's up to me, your name will never be on Jordan's birth certificate.”

If shame had a portrait, it would be Lando's face.

“Please understand my side...”

“Your side, Norris? I was pregnant and you sent me away!!” you growled, trying not to wake Jordan in your arms. “I didn’t want money, I wanted support! I wanted you!”

You scoffed at the tears in his eyes, none of them made up for the times you cried alone, scared of the uncertain future you could have. If he thought you would be moved by his crying, he couldn't be more wrong. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, not caring about him following you.

“I’m sorry, I was scared!”

“I was too!” you lost your patience and heard Jordan’s whimpers. “Were you scared? Don’t be a hypocrite, Lando.”

“Let me... Let me apologize, let me take care of you two.”

“You can swallow your apologies, they’re worth nothing to me or Jordan, and as for your care…” you laughed “I won’t tell you what to do with it out of respect for my son.”

And with that, you slammed the door in his face. Hoping that Lando would go back to the same place he had come from.

MAX VERSTAPPEN.

Just as nothing hurt you more than Max's distrust, Annelise's birth healed you in immeasurable ways. The little girl became the little Sun in your world, illuminating corners you thought you would no longer visit after the breakup with Max.

When you left his house in Monaco, you spent a few days on standby, thinking about what to do, you had no one else to support you. You didn't know how, but before you knew it, you were standing on Sophie's doorstep in Belgium, you didn't expect to have the support of your ex-mother-in-law, but Sophie welcomed you with open arms, outraged by Max's attitude.

Sophie welcomed you as if you were her own daughter, helped you choose an apartment in Brussels — even though she wanted you to stay with her for as long as it took, she helped you in the first few months after Annelise was born.

Now, two years later, Annelise was spending so much time at her grandmother's house that Sophie had set up a room for her.

“Sophie, for God’s sake, don’t spoil Anne like that,” you scolded her, seeing the woman click her tongue and shrug, you knew your sermons would do no good, Sophie would continue buying gifts for Annelise.

“Nah, it’s nothing big and you know I’m not stopping any time soon,” she admitted, bouncing the little girl on her lap, Annelise was very entertained by the new teddy bear Sophie had brought. “How was the job interview? Did you get the job?”

You had applied for a job at the health center near your home, the hours were great, the pay was worth it, you just needed to find someone to look after Sophie.

“I was selected, but I need to find a good nanny to take care of Anne...”

“Y/N don’t be silly, you know I will take care of Anne with the greatest pleasure, I love taking care of her.”

“Sophie, I don’t want to give you any trouble...” you started to try to argue.

“Mom! I’m home... Y/N?” you saw Max standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in surprise, then looking at Annelise on Sophie’s lap.

“Max, you didn’t tell me you were coming, come in, I made your favorite cake, go get it from the kitchen, dear” Sophie said, she knew you weren’t ready to talk to Max yet, but the Dutchman had different plans.

You held your arms out to Annelise, who didn't think twice before jumping into your lap, you did your best to avoid Max's gaze.

“We’re going, Sophie... I’ll let you know when we get home,” you said in a whisper and crossed the room towards the exit, but Max grabbed your bicep, stopping you from leaving.

“We need to talk, Y/N... Just five minutes, please,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could.

“We have nothing to talk about, Max.”

“Please, just five minutes,” he begged, giving Annelise a quick glance in his lap.

“Five minutes, no more.” You said, releasing your arm from his grip. “Sophie, can you take Anne please?”

“Of course, it’s no sacrifice for me, is it, mon bebé?”

Finally you and Max were alone, you were uncomfortable to the point that your skin felt itchy.

“I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you would stay in Monaco”

“I had nothing to keep me in Monaco, I saw no reason to stay there, and Sophie welcomed me as if I were her daughter,” you said, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “Get to the point, Max, I have to go...”

He licked his lips nervously. “I wanted to talk about our daughter.”

“No, no, calm down, you don’t have a daughter, at least not with me, Annelise is my daughter and mine alone, your participation in her conception was purely accidental.” You said it without any emotion.

“I know I said stupid things that night, Y/N, but I want to make up for every single one of them, with you and with the girl” he said and you scoffed.

“Oh really? And what makes you think you have any right to her?”

“Y/N I’m her father” he said patiently, as he always was with you, until that night at least.

“Unless you request a DNA test, there is nothing to prove your paternity over Annelise,” you determined, taking a step towards him, “and don’t think I’m an idiot, Max, you always knew I was in Brussels with your mother, Sophie told you that the same day I arrived, because I highly doubt she didn't give you the biggest lecture of your life that night.”

He looked away, proving his point “and yet you never cared, you didn’t come to her birthday, or call when she had pneumonia, you didn’t even know her name until today, So please don't lie to me saying that you regret it or that you want to be a part of her life.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples, already feeling the pains of the inevitable migraine.

“Annelise will eventually find out about you, but until then, don't go near her, I won't allow you to be cruel to my daughter the way you were to me.” That was your final sentence before you went to get Annelise with Sophie. You didn't want to have to share oxygen with him any more than necessary. Max belonged to a past you didn't want to revisit.

He stood still in place, watching you leave with the girl, without giving you another look.

“There are stupid people, and then there’s you, Max,” Sophie said, approaching her son. “I find it absurd how you inherited Jos’s worst traits...”

He couldn't help but agree, Max was fucking dumb.

taglist: @spngi, @monacosprince, @camelliaflow3r, @simbaaas-stuff, @bsammy, @sabrinaselina55, @irenkaproszepana , @avni-sarai, @itsapurrfectstorm, @janeh22, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @llvstrous099, @gotthemilk-69, @ladscarlett, @daemyratwst, @anewpersonthatexists, @loohs-world, @sarcastic-nerd

Some who requested to be tagged on the taglist unfortunately could not be located, if I forgot someone, please complain on ask, thank you, management.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1!angst #f1!fanfic #f1!headcanons #f1 grid x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #sawturn

529 notes · View notes

usmsgutterson · 1 year ago

Note

hi !! could I request a drabble with Kaz Brekker + from the prompt list: "niche nickname for the other person/niche nickname for the other person" please? I hope you have a good day or night :)

Niche Nicknames- K.B x gn! reader headcanons

Hi, anon! First off--I am SO SORRY that this has taken me nearly a month. I saved it to my drafts with the intention of doing it a few weeks back and then got sidetracked by a number of things, but I hope you enjoy! I also hope that doing this request as headcanons is okay--I read the request and then knew that headcanons made the most sense for me in terms of writing, and so headcanons I wrote.

ALSO: the nicknames used are translated from english to dutch, which I do not currently speak--I used google translate, and I apologize preemptively if either of those words don't actually mean what translate said they do.

Fic type- this is fluff!

Warnings- none

OKAY TO START,

Kaz's nickname for you is the old kerch word for 'beloved.'

when I say old, I mean old.

so old that Nina couldn't've found it in a textbook while she was learning how to speak Kerch.

For reference--the old kerch word for beloved is geliefd

you, however, know what it means because it was in a book you read once--it had been the nickname a character gave to their love interest, and because it was a kerch word almost as old as the existence of the country itself, there was an asterisk where it was first used explaining what the word meant.

That might make you ask how Kaz knows the word??

he's read the book too--you nipped it from his shelf in the lead up to a heist that would only be eventful after you'd gotten off the boat and proceeded into Ravka.

Your nickname for Kaz is the old-age Kerch word for darling: liefste.

It's a nickname that not even Kaz knows the origins of--one day, you started using it, and you hadn't stopped using it in the time since.

You also don't use it too often because there's not very much occasion to call him darling, so not very many people know it exists outside of the two of you and a few of the crows (Jesper, Inej, and Wylan)

the nickname that Kaz has for you doesn't get used often either--there's not much occasion for pet names in the Barrel, but you both have them for each other anyway for when there is occasion.

Generally, very few people know of your nicknames for each other and you're fine with it that way because it's just easier--though Kaz will never actually admit it, there'll always be some part of him that views love as weakness to an extent.

plus, you only ever have occasion to call each other your nicknames in the rarest of circumstances so they're fairly niche regardless.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

163 notes · View notes

zenia62 · 11 hours ago

Text

Letters From Daendels to ??? (Part 1)

Hey guys, so not long ago I found this letter in Mendels book that Daendels addressed to his friend in Amsterdam but idk who is it cus the book didn't specify it 🥲 If I do found the person, I'll inform u guys ^^ As usual, translation might not be accurate as I'm only using google translate 🙏

Dear Friend! With our entire citizenry, I have retreated to Zwolle. Too weak to repel such a terrible bombardment as was threatened, we have withdrawn, though not before causing the downfall of many soldiers, cavalrymen, and horses through our artillery and the pieces placed on Zwollian soil.

None of us have remained unharmed... The account of what has occurred will soon come to light. The atrocities committed by the militia, and still being committed, surpass all belief. The houses have been plundered, and the looted goods carted away: rice, oil, salt, soap, blankets, chintz, etc., spoiled, thrown into the streets, or stolen. The wine cellar of Captain Van Barneveld, the wine merchant, was ransacked along with his spice shop. General Spengler encourages his soldiers in these actions.

The officers also steal; Cornet Heemskerk wears the hat of my brother. The clothing and linen of my mother and myself have been dragged through the streets, slashed to pieces. Doors, windows, glass, cabinets, desks, chests, and cupboards are broken open with axes and the butts of rifles. Captain Van Laar, Captain Van Barneveld, Reverend Appelius, Lieutenant Barneveld, and most of the prominent as well as less prominent citizens, are left with nothing; everything has been robbed and ruined.

The surrounding inhabitants are forced to work for them under threat of saber strikes; bonds and obligations lie in the streets. This, in short, is the situation of our entire citizenry; most of the possessions of the citizens have been lost, and they are left with nothing but the clothes on their backs, without even a single coin. We are in desperate straits; we must urgently seek help from other people, for we cannot handle this alone. May God grant us His help, for we need it soon and hope for vigorous support from our allies and the brave Dutch.

I beg you, relay this situation to our countrymen and sympathizers in a manner that contains nothing but the pure truth. We yearn to avenge the innocent. Flying haste has robbed me of all coherence in this report, but I trust I have conveyed the seriousness of the events.” H.W. Daendels.

The stadtholder officers were so rude smh 😠 How dare they throw away Daendels mother n his own clothes into the streets 😬 Also it's very rare that Daendels mentioned his mother here, istg he rarely talks abt them ☹️ Overall, the situation that he describes to his friend on how the stadtholder officer behaves is so sad n devestating, I understand why Daendels hates William V alot 😒 Random fun fact; Daendels n his troops once fight the future king of Netherlands William I n surprisingly William I was injured in that battle so that was badass of Daendels haha 😆 Anyways, I found another letter that Daendels wrote to someone but the author doesn't know who is it addressed to so I might upload that later today 👀 Anyways, that's all for now, thank you guys n have a nice day, stay safe 🌙

#daendels #napoleonic era #napoleonic wars #french #french history #napoleon’s marshals #history #dutch #dutch history #william v of the netherlands #william i of the netherlands #patriots #letters

10 notes · View notes

oediex · 1 month ago

Text

Oh dear, there is an interview in a Belgian newspaper with Paco Calvo (link to his academic profile) who is "a renowned cognitive scientist and philosopher of biology" who uses these different disciplines to "explore the fascinating world of plant behavior, decision-making, and problem-solving." (all from said profile)

-> Excellent, great, no problem. Fascinating.

He claims that plans have consciousness and can feel and suffer.

-> Okay, interesting. Let's talk about that.

Correction, he says that it is likely that plants are beings who can feel, though there is no empirical evidence for it yet.

-> A bit dodgy, but fine, still listening.

Then he says (as was the title of the piece as well) that his claims and arguments are a death sentence to veganism. "I give vegans headaches. Plants are not ethically safe to eat, they have subjective experiences. That topples the moral superiority of vegans."

-> Excuse me?

He goes on to say he is an "omnivore" with "nuance" because there are "grades of suffering". When he chooses his meals he doesn't think about "plant based" and "animal based" but asks "has the life form on my plate experienced stress that could have been avoided" and "that counts for the chicken as much as the Brussels sprout".

-> Excuse me. Excuse me, sir. Question. What did the chicken eat before she landed on your plate, sir. What did she eat. Was it plants. And if so, does that get calculated in as well, or is that suffering suddenly not relevant anymore. Sir. Hello?

Lessons of the day:

veganism isn't about "moral superiority" and it's not about what is "ethically safe" to eat. It's about minimising the amount of suffering as we go about our lives, it's about doing the best you can to avoid animal suffering, insofar as it is practicable and possible for you to do so

if plants have sentience, that changes nothing, veganism is still causing the least amount of suffering because the animals you eat have eaten plants in the first place

Here's the link to an unpaywalled version of the interview, but it is in Dutch so you might need to run it through a translator to your preferred language to understand it (I tried translating the website through google translate to link for y'all, but it failed presumably because it's running through archive.is in order to get the paywall off)

#veganism #animal rights #plant rights #plant sentience #plant science #i am so sick of this argument #the article also claims that Peter Singer is the “prophet of veganism” like yeah okay #the man isn't even vegan as far as I'm aware #sorry I have thoughts about Peter Singer but they don't belong on this post haha

10 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 11 months ago

Note

I work at a factory that does visa sponsorships which is totally fine I support it 100%

The problem is we have 6 languages spoken among all our visa people plus us English American speakers.

It’s a problem when something breaks and no one speaks the same Language so we have to communicate through pictures and symbols

Lines are shut down for hours or a complete day because of it

English is a lingua franca pretty much the world over, (one guy speaks Swedish the other Dutch but they both speak some english) makes it odd when people come here and can't speak it since it and French are in use all over (English is the superior choice) blows ass it's not carrying over to your coworkers.

I imagine there's tax breaks or something involved in the issuing of these jobs and they may not get the choice of who comes in.

Be funny as hell to invent a pidgin language for a few of the languages, need to be enough crossover to make that work though not sure what languages you're getting other than the obvious Spanish.

I'd say at this point if they're going to keep doing it like that just enjoy the easy day with the line shut down if you can.

Alternatively there's translation apps n such that can translate on the fly, some even with spoken word, most just typed out.

Google translate might do some good for y'all on that front, if it's that big of a issue at least.

#anonymous

2 notes · View notes

mchiti · 1 year ago

Note

Me also wanting to jump into this anons question (lol):

With the Ajax farewell video, when they played the video of his mother wishing him the best for London, I hope I’m not mistaken, but she speaks Tarifit, so my assumption that he understands it. Much like a lot of people (including) that fluently understands a language through hearing but struggle to speak it.

Also in his Most searched Google questions video for Ch*ls** one question was how many languages can he speak and he only said 2 (English and Dutch) so there’s that

Also there was a video of Saiss translating Darija to Hakim. So maybe he doesn’t understand Darija or just understands a few words but can fully understand Tarifit

Okay I think I’m done ✅

nono anon she speaks darija in that video! And that's why I say he definitely has a grasp of it/understand to some extent.

I think many people mistakenly think of languages in a very black and white way, you either know them or you don't. It's not even a matter of to what extent he understands, but the fact his ear is obviously accustomed to it, and his mind too - some linguistics says bilingual kids have some sort of mental "device" that develops in the first three years of life. Even if they don't end up speaking a second/third language fluently (or at all, for that matter) some linguistics say it's embedded in them. They did some great studies on kids who were born into migrants families but then ended up in foster care before becoming verbal; noticing how they, even though they had no knowledge or active memories of their parents' languages, were able to pick up sounds (not actual words meanings bc they lacked vocabulary of course, but actual phonetics) and knew /how/ to pronounce those sounds even though nobody explained it to them.

anyway regardless of me babbling about it; I don't know to what extent he actually understands tarifit, maybe he's able to engage with it. Yeah, I saw Romain translating darija to him, but I do still think he has a grasp of darija. Him using a casual darija word in that lil documentar with touzani...like you can tell he knows his words! Sure he might need help with understanding full speeches and stuff. But like, a stupid example right, when he says wallah or inchallah you know that's a very moroccan intonation and you can tell you know?

#asks #not to mention the non-verbal darija he definitely speaks loool #a master in non-verbal darija

2 notes · View notes

hislittleraincloud · 6 months ago

Note

Flirting aside, your love for language is admirable. Makes me want to actually apply myself and learn more than English. Until then, google translate (though not nearly as reliable as understanding myself) is my friend.

Might try and take a few classes though, see if being able to speak or write in multiple languages gives me some of that charm you've got. But then again, maybe the charm is entirely your own? I mean, I gotta say, you're oddly... is there even a word for it? I guess the closest would be intriguing. Something to be proud of for someone I've never seen before.

I guess I can't just crush on you in your inbox and not sign off, huh? Especially if I plan to hopefully make you smile with these occasional asks in the future.

-😇 anon, if you haven't got one yet. (😇 because this is the most well behaved I've been in a minute, my self restraint really is umatched)

Am I supposed to be crushing on someone that only exists to me on Tumblr? I dunno.

Will I continue to do it anyway? Yes!

I have loved languages for as long as I could remember. My parents were hideously selfish and self-absorbed, so they didn't care to teach me Spanish (my grandmother's language) or Thai (my mother's language). Ask them why they didn't and they'll make up some excuse or blame it on me, misgendering me in the process ("[Tor] didn't want to learn" is more than likely something my father would say, and I can tell you that that was 1000000000% bullshit, because I loved learning Spanish from my grandmother, aunt, and Sesame Street). Learned plenty of dirty and swear words in Thai from my mother, though. 🙄

Yet I was forced and expected to learn French, Italian, and German on my fucking own at 11 years old bc we were moving to France (and would be visiting Italy, Germany, the Netherlands, Austria, Switzerland, and Spain...ETA: He didn have us learn any Dutch bc we didn't stay too long). Father handed me a pile of travel phrase books and told me to learn them (though in addition to the French, Italian, German, Spanish (for my mother again...always for her) phrase books I made him buy me a Romanian one, because I wanted to learn "Dracula's tongue" 💀 I was a weird ass child).

I took to French easily enough since it was the main one father had us focus on (and I even tagged along to my mother's classes...I did better than her, she got mad and stopped bringing me to them). Ma amavo la lingua italiana e oggi la amo ancora di più, anche se sono più brava in francese. I would much rather have lived in Italy than fricking France. It was about this time that I was also interested in Russian, since I had a huge crush on Maxmillian Schell from Peter the Great:

youtube

(You can tell what my tastes were even at 11 and 12 years old... 🫠)

But, Father said it would be too much/too difficult and we weren't going to Russia, so he didn't buy me any of those phrase books. 😓

I've collected several of my favorites in French, but I do have other non-English books as well (particularly the Potter books... I've got the whole series in French but am still collecting the Italian versions, as they were hard to find; I won't put $ in her pocket anymore, so anything I do pick up is second hand, and I have them because it's an easy way to refresh). I also have copies of Lolita in Russian and Hebrew. (Definitely not the same. The gorgeous English that Nabokov used does not necessarily translate well at all.)

Reading is how I learned. Reading the phrase books, then être jeté aux loups en France...et en Italie, en Allemagne, en Suisse, etc. Je devais survivre seule, comme je l'avais fait pendant 12 ans.

You could take a class, or you can start small on your own. Duolingo gets a bad rap, but if you're curious about a language other than English, Duo is a pretty cool toy to start out with. Bored out of my mind, I tried it out a little over ten years ago, starting with dansk. Jeg begyndte at lære dansk, men det var for nemt. At the same time (after zipping through the first few Danish lessons), I tried Irish and took to that somehow (and annoyed the Hell out of my ex, who still lived with me at the time, by speaking nothing but Irish to her...I wanted her gone since she was just using me for the cheap rent and never, ever cleaned up after herself or the dogs/cats that were hers). The speed of my lessons went by real quick bc I seemed to have a natural ability to figure out how a language works (shifting from SVO to VSO wasn't that hard for me...though I had/still have some confusion with SOV languages like Turkish, I still got by okay whilst in Istanbul).

But Duo is really just a starting point. There's also Memrise (which is okay...they recently cut off our access to 'community created courses' on the app...that means I can't refresh my Georgian Alphabet (გამარჯობაjo! LOL That's all I remember of that one, I'm trying to stick with the Latin Alphabet ones, though Russian and Ukrainian Cyrillic is 🔥 and I can read it) or any of the smaller languages that I found on there, I have to go to the website for that). Clozemaster is a really neat little tool too, and as far as I can see, they make up for the Memrise deficits with their rarer languages:

(Finished the easy reviews, but I have a lot to keep going on some of these, and I need to combine some Duo with this for the alphabets; I'm just a starter in Greek. I love Catalan** since it's the language of my ancestors, but I also love the other regional languages like Occitan and Piemontèis, and they're fairly easy if you already know French and Spanish. Yes, my streak is only a day on this bc I'm BUSY WRITING 😭 but normally I'll go in and play around if I'm bored. Euskara (Basque) can suck my ass, though. (ETA again: The Russian course does have sound, I must've had my sound down LOL) Oo! And the Clozemaster Italian course has dirty phrases. 👹 Lastly, one thing I rlly like about Cloze is its interface and sounds. It's all 8 bit and has 8 bit gaming sounds when you finish your section/review. VERY retro, A+++)

The great thing is that all of these are free, though Duo's free can be annoying if you lose a lot of hearts/make a lot of mistakes. All three are great aids, but if you're just picking up one language, a class is cool too. You can find language classes on YouTube, or on the Open Culture page that lists almost 50 free places where you can learn a language. I also suggest immersion in the language that you want to learn. Watch your favorite shows dubbed in it, so you can learn how to pronounce/inflect things correctly (and so you can have a good laugh at the bad voice actor casting that sometimes happens). Listen to the radio and read newspapers in your target lang. It's all FREE, young Jedi. Free knowledge for the taking. You just gotta pick it up.

I think if I weren't writing, I'd still be immersed in language sharpening/learning (and drawing, probably). I suppose that's part of what incensed me about Teacher Boy's shitty reblog, since the OP's post mentioned languages. One never stops learning about the world and its people/cultures. I may hate people (like Wednesday does), but I do like to know how they think/why. I'm also imperfect, so if/when I have mistakes in the written language part, it's probably me mixing up rules or forgetting accents/where they go.

Christ this is long. 🫠

The charm thing, well...

I'm just a writer. A weird one, who tends to be the first and only for many people and things. I sure wish I could share my other accomplishments here, but one of my bigger ones has my real name attached to it and through that I can get stalked (not afraid of you per se, but it would be really annoying if those who hate me harassed me...I have senior/elderly dogs that need their peace). I will say that the accomplishment I'm thinking of would change each and every 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ person on this Hellsite's perception of me, regardless of my writing.

Now it's my turn to be mysterious. 🌚

Hi. Hello. Bonjour. Bounjou. Cerea. Ciao. Hola. Bom dia. Hallo. Salut. Hej. HEI! прибет. Halò. Mora duit. გამარჯობაjo. Non lo so. Mi stai già impressionando con la tua eloquenza, ed è piacevole vedere questa positività nella mia Inbox. 🫴🏽🎀💕🫠✨

**ETA 2: Speaking of Catalan, something interesting popped up on my Google feed re: prenatal exposure to multiple languages: Babies in the womb exposed to two languages hear speech differently when born. Maybe I had an advantage, since my mother spoke English and Thai when I was in there.

0 notes

rearranging-deck-chairs · 1 year ago

Text

im not criticising, alright? im studying. hubris hours as i m'empare de deux langues qui ne sont pas les miennes live in public

but so 'certifies' does refer to quasi-religious rituals. they just did smth funky with that sentence

"this intervention never happens without a quasi-religious ritual that seems to attest to the sacredness of its field [the 'field/subject' in the english version here makes me assume theres a multiplicity of meaning in champ which i at my french level just read as 'field', but i guess with that hint given my instinct is smth like 'field of operation', which google tells me doesnt mean what i mean it to mean, so i must be thinking of another word but i dont know if it's in english or dutch so thats gonna be hard to find. maybe i'd go with domain but im not sure how much that adds that 'field' doesnt already have. can tell you though that in french 'champ opératoire' is area where surgeries are given so i suppose you can add that to your mental reading of 'field' over there. maybe thats why i went with field of operation. 'area of operation'? hm no thats a military thing. whatever. sticking with field] : the body-person of the operated."

"despite the profound influence of modernity which, with descartes in particular, aims to radically dissociate the body from the mind" pffft snort okay lets redo that bit uhhh aims to......okay but thats what it says is it not. just evokes some less philosophical ideas perhaps but that might be subjective. what was i saying.

"despite the profound influence of modernity which, with descartes in particular [i dont think english's first choice would be 'with' here but i cant think of another way to say it without becoming incredibly wordy. like i said not like i can do better], aims to radically dissociate the body from the mind, a rigourous analysis of the surgical practice tends to weaken [i dont know if we 'invalidate' illusions really but that might be nitpicking. i dont really know infirmer as a word so im inclined to go with their translation since they know what they mean but also since the dictionary says it means affaiblir i would maybe go with weaken the illusion since that more seems like a thing we can do with illusions] the illusion, even with the need for objectification that exists in order to carry out [jesus. me: thats clunky english. also me: writes this abomination of a phrase. why the fuck is exists there, no idea. vibes. whatever] the transgression of opening a human body."

then theres a whole sentence that the english version just skipped i suppose. and then that sentence where i said they didnt match the verb phrase and the noun phrase (probably not what those are called but whatever), the "could never be fixing an object of even a veterinary" wait a sec is that even the word? veterinarian? yes it is apparently veterinary is the same thing. anyway: "the surgeon cant simply be [okay réparateur (reparateur hi dutch) is a nice word that repairman makes look stupid so im gonna go with mechanic to contrast with the veterinarian bc machines and animals idk] a mechanic or even a veterinarian, obligated as he is [like you can literally just keep that phrase cant you? why would you turn it into 'because he is obligated to' and turn that whole sentence upside down?] by the moral specificity [idk what that means i probably didnt translate it right] of the human being in his charge." [actually not entirely sure if 'being in someones charge' is a real turn of phrase im using correctly but i cant find it so im going with it. anglophones can weigh in]

not like i can do better but i would do it differently at least. you can stay a lot closer to the original so why wouldnt you? did i completely mangle the meaning? francophones can weigh in

this is probably abt medical ethics or smth like serious real life stuff but

#im bored it makes me prickly #probably dont sound prickly im talking abt french but i Feel prickly and thats bad enough #redirecting the prickly energy to french words that arent very important #these sentences suck but i think thats just academic writing and/or my language levels #im hoping its mostly the academic writing #the english version also says moral specificity btw #so whatever that is i did translate it right

7 notes · View notes

cherries-n-rocknroll · 3 years ago

Text

Queen drummer Roger Taylor: 'No more number 1 in the Top 2000? Which arse has that on his conscience?'

Note: Thank you to @riaaanna for the first version! It was already pretty alright (I was pleasantly surprised for a google translate job!) but I thought since I'm Dutch I'd go over it and try to make it even better in some places. I took some liberty in a few spots because to, in my opinion, convey the message better rather than to give a literal translation that makes no sense. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

Roger Taylor. IMAGE YOSHIKO HORITA

For the first time in eight years Roger Taylor comes out with a new solo album named Outsider. With Adam Lambert as their frontman he is also working on new Queen music. 'We'll keep playing as long as we're able to do so.'

Stefan Raatgever 29 september 2021, 09:25

In a lavishly decorated room with velvet curtains and gold-shining candlesticks on the dresser, Roger Taylor appears in front of a screen. The connection was made by an assistant. We look inside his house in Surrey, an hour's drive below London, says Taylor. It is the house where, the Queen drummer showed on Instagram last year, an 8 meter high statue of Queen singer Freddie Mercury, who died in 1991, is displayed in the garden. "A little flashy, but I think Freddie could have had a good laugh about it," he added.

Roger Taylor (72) looks cheerful this afternoon. He says he spent the strict British lockdown in his English home on the coast of Cornwall. "I got lucky. I could walk in peace there every day."

With Outsider, Taylor – writer of Queenhits such as Under Pressure and These Are the Days of Our Lives – made a solo album for the first time in eight years. It appears the day after tomorrow (October first 2021). On songs such as Isolation and We're All Just Trying to Get By, he sings about his experiences with the pandemic. Taylor also took old songs like Foreign Sand from 1994 and Absoluty Any-thing from 2015, and added them to the new album. There will also be a new Queen tour, with Adam Lambert as frontman. On July 1st and 2nd 2022 the group will perform the Rhapsody Tour in the Ziggo Dome.

What made you decide to make music on your own again?

"All of a sudden I had a lot of free time to come up with new ideas and I felt like I had to put that to good use. I also felt the creative juices flowing again. The songs came easily. The circumstances were inspiring. On the news I saw the people in Italy. It was terrible to see how they were locked up. That's how Isolation came to be."

Opening song Tides is about mortality. Were you very busy with that?

"Of course I was concerned. At my age, I fall into the risk group. If I had gotten the virus, I could have died. But the song is mostly about getting older, about starting the last chapter."

Does your age influence the choices you make?

"I do look differently at, for example, my own solo tour this fall. Now that the clock is ticking audibly, I want it to be all about having fun. So I also play my favorite Queen songs (he was heavily criticized for that in the past in the British press, ed.). I just want to enjoy it with my audience now."

That used to be different?

"We had to build our career! We couldn't just do whatever we wanted. Thanks to that sharpness and a good dose of luck, Queen's music is still so popular. What also helped: with Adam Lambert as our frontman, we really managed to lift our concerts to another level. It fits so well! And then of course there is the film (Bohemian Rhapsody from 2018, ed.): it brought our music to a new generation. Just like the musical We Will Rock You."

"Brian May and I could have retired years ago, but we enjoy continuing to play. We'll keep doing it as long as we can."

In 2008 you made a Queen album with Paul Rodgers as your lead singer, The Cosmos Rocks. Will you also make new music with Adam Lambert?

"I was listening to that album recently. I don't think it got the attention it deserved. There are really good songs on it. But it's always about timing and the people just weren't ready for a Queen album without Freddie. There was reluctance to accept Paul as our singer, even though he has a beautiful voice. Very bluesy. On the other hand, he was not the perfect match for us because of that. Adam is a much better fit in that sense."

And is the timing for new music better now because of that?

"Without a doubt, yes."

So? There is something coming?

"We recorded a song with Adam in Nashville, yes. But it's not quite finished yet. We haven't decided what we want to do next, but I'd love to record more with Adam."

Something else: do you know the Dutch Top 2000? In that radio list of listeners' favorite songs, you topped 17 out of 22 editions with Bohemian Rhapsody.

"No, I don't know that one, but it sounds like good news."

Only you lost the first place since last December.

Laughing: "What? Which arse has that on his conscience? Danny Vera? That does not ring a bell. Roller Coaster? I've heard that song before. Oh, I'll give it to that boy. I think 17 out of 22 is a pretty good score for us."

Tagging some people who might wanna read this: @sixtiesblues @illfoandillfie @terryboot @natromanxoff @scorpiogemini @jennyggggrrr @ohladymoon

#Roger Taylor #Queen #Adamn Lambert #Brian May #Queen Rhapsody tour #bohemian rhapsody #Roger Taylor Outsider #Roger Taylor Outsider tour

76 notes · View notes

nordic-language-love · 2 years ago

Photo

Language Learning Log 2022 Week 24 (13/06 - 19/06)

Banner photo: The weather was nice this week (mostly), so I took the opportunity to light up the fire clubs my friend lent me several months ago. I love them! She’s said she might sell them, in which case I’ll definitely buy them off her!

Norwegian

Speaking practice

Chatted with @pilvenhattara 💜

Listened to 2.5x Ekko podcasts

Read 7x Kakerlakkene chapters

Read 1x article

Japanese

Duolingo

2x italki lessons (1h 30m)

Listened to the radio

Made grammar notes

Attempted to read NHK easy news

Made and reviewed Anki cards

Played Pokemon Shining Pearl

The mini speaking challenge is underway! I missed one day because it was a busy day and I ended up being really tired/not having time, but other than that I’ve managed to stay on top of it. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep it up this week as my boyfriend and I are going to Amsterdam for his birthday. But it’s okay, because my Norwegian tutor’s back this week, and I’m also using up some extra package lessons from my Bergenstest tutor. Then I guess I should practice some Dutch! Gotta say, I barely remember a word of it, but I’ll probably recap the basics so I can at least order a diet coke and say thank you (I feel like that’s the least you can do when you travel abroad tbh, even when going to a country where like 90% of people speak flawless English).

I think I'm getting faster at saying things in Japanese. Not a lot faster, but it takes me a little less time to think about the number I need to say before I say it. Although I have developed a new habit... adding question particles to the end of past tense verbs for no reason 😅 I think it's just overcorrection because I kept forgetting those particles. Duolingo is getting easier too though; the things that used to feel too difficult are quite easy, or at least starting to make sense. The beginner stage of a language where you can see your progress really clearly is awesome, huh?

NHK Easy News is still too difficult for me by a long shot though. But every time I try to read the headlines, I see something familiar and can maybe work something out. It's such a nice feeling when that happens! Like I saw 円 and 安 and was like "so the first one is yen and the second one is cheap... something about the yen being weak?" And I was right :D I'm still yet to understand a single headline without the help of Google Translate though. But I’m trying very hard!

Another thing I did was start playing Pokémon Shining Pearl in Japanese. Do I understand anything? Nope! I understand a word or two here and there, and I look up any that appear frequently. So far I’ve learned maybe five words. It’s something, right? And I’m getting faster at reading hiragana/katakana (obviously I’m not playing with kanji lol). I also practise saying them time every time I look at the clock and the numbers when I win money from battles. I suck at numbers so I need that practice 😅

#progress report #language learning log #langblr #learning languages #norwegian langblr #japanese langblr

12 notes · View notes

s0ul-j0k3r · 2 years ago

Note

hey man I seen that you're writing for rdr2 now so I thought id make a request :)

could you write a polish reader that has crooked teeth please? they usually get along with everyone, and has huge alcohol tolerance please?

if this is too much just polish,

they're best friends with sean and whenever Sean is rescued and the party happens, Sean kisses the reader and confesses even though they have a s/o ? readers flattered but pushes him away

the thing is their s/o sees it

Sorry it took me so long to write this! Trying to catch up onto TWD! There won't be any Polish language in this only because I don't know Polish ✌️🧍 and I'm not gonna use Google Translate only because it takes to long to explain.

Also thanks Anon because it feels so nice writing again!

Holy shit, I'm experiencing the worst of the worst. I'm not dead which is a cheer, but I'm sick meaning sitting on my ass in bed for 24 hours with lack of motivation to write, but I'm sucking it up just to write it for you anon. So please consider it a gift, and I'm sorry if it may be terrible. (Also I'm sorry but it will just be Polish 🧍)

𝙋𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙂𝙉 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙈𝙖𝙘𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙚

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂(𝙎): Language, drinking (and omg I just felt terrible because I'm watching TWD, (Season 4 episode 2 or 3)), non-confident reader, injuries, death, violence, weapons, usage of They/Them for reader, probably terrible writing, there isn't any actual wordings from the game.

Story will happen under the cut!

It felt empty and quiet without the loud, cheerful Sean MacGuire, always lighting up the mood.

You've felt saddened lately to the disappearance of him. Most to the reason he was your bestfriend for that matter. You guys always shared stories to eachother, ride through Valentine to the saloon for a drink, confusing eachother with you speaking Polish and him speaking in a more thick accent giving yourselves a laugh, etc.

To the point where Micah decides to be an ass and always call you guys all sorts of names: "Lovebirds!", "What a cute couple!", I mean all sorts. (Except my mind doesn't know anymore.)

You knew him best out of all of the group in the first place.

"MacGuire," that name has caught your attention, jolting your head up to see Dutch speaking to the gang, "has been gone for far to long now and we know that, but we will search for him.", you walked on over quickly, Charles coughed gathering Dutch's attention, explaining where he might know where his is.

(I completely forgot what that place was called.)

"Alright, then we'll head tomorrow. I want you four up early tomorrow. Who knows what they'll do to him." Pointing towards Javier, Charles, Arthur, and you. The minute he announced you, your stomach sunk, but beyond this point you would give anything up to get Sean back.

You gotta' admit that it was the longest night of your life.

"Y/N! C'mon! Get up, we gotta' get movin'!" Arthur calls out to you, you rushing up gathering your stuff.

Charles and Javier chatting away by their horses, seeing you rushing over. "Lets go." You sigh out. Leading your horse to your destination.

A good 20-35 minutes passed by before seeing a town, FULL of officers.

(I don't exactly remember (Yes I've done this part I just don't remember) how this goes.)

Fleeing your horses you guys hind behind a bush, Javier and Arthur taking out binoculars to see whats going on and to see where Sean is.

"There," Arthur points towards someone red headed enough to be Sean, "lets go."

(No, this will not add up to the fancy prancy dude, basically not adding up to the story.)

Sneaking over along an edge to keep eyes on Sean, "Me and Arthur will go around, you and Javier go down below and get those guys." Charles announced.

You nodded in reply and headed down with Javier to where some officers/guards were.

(HOLY SHIT, IT'S BEEN A FEW MONTHS! SO SORRY ANON!.)

Hand hovering your gun, just waiting for the right moment. Taking a glance, at Javier, (in which somehow) he acted out for you to take the first shot. (You somehow understood.)

Taking the weapon and aiming at the unknown guard in front of you, taking a deep breath before pulling the trigger. Obviously startling the other man beside him, but before he could take another breath Javier got to him first.

You cocked your head towards your destination at Javier, telling him, “Let’s go.”

You guys couldn't hear anything besides your feet dragging along the ground. Until it was stopped by hearing the sound of voices ahead.

Quickly shifting behind a rock, you peek over. You couldn't see anyone.

Complete silence fell,

"Where are they?" The unknown voices announced. What seemed to be Arthur peeking over, you had a quick sigh of relief.

(bro I'm fucking stuck, idk how to continue 😰)

#gay #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #gn reader #sean macguire

6 notes · View notes

wosoimagines · 4 years ago

Text

The Secret Is Out - Jill Roord/Reader

prompt: hi um could you maybe just maybe do a jill roord x reader where the reader plays for arsenal and the uswnt and they win the world cup and no one knows they’re dating and the r or jill accidentally like do something? idk if that makes sense but if you dont want to that’s perfectly fine! hope you are doing well! all love. Okay, look. There are some Dutch translations here. I don’t know if they’re right because I used google translate. If they are wrong and you speak Dutch, please tell me so I can fix them.

warnings: None.

words: 1919

(Y/N) POV

I cheered as soon as the final whistle blew. I had finally done it. I had finally won my first World Cup. After being one of the last players passed over during the 2015 World Cup, it felt amazing to win now in 2019 and to be such a big reason as to why we won.

Although I was happy, there was a part of me that knew that I had ruined a World Cup run for one of the most important people in my life. I immediately looked to search for the Dutch woman who had stole my heart. My smile fell a little at the heartbroken look on her face.

I caught her eye and she smiled at me. I went to move toward her, but before I could, someone had jumped on my back cheering. I wasn’t surprised that it was Sonnett. Lindsey, of course, joined where Sonnett was and Mal and Rose weren’t far behind her.

Jill shook her head and it did hurt a little that she didn’t want me to join her. But I understood. My team wanted to celebrate and Jill probably just wanted to be with her teammates right now. I glanced to see how Danielle and Viv were as well as Sari. I wasn’t surprised when I watched Jill go join Viv. I knew that the two of them were really close.

Lindsey managed to wrangle Sonnett off my back just before Rose and Mal threw confetti on top of me. I grinned at them as I shook my head to get the few that stuck to my head off of me. I was a little surprised that it was Tierna who had dragged me back to where the team was celebrating on the pitch. I wasn’t too surprised when Christen and Tobin immediately joined me considering that they were my team moms.

We eventually were given our medals and I was a little surprised to find that I had won the bronze boot along with the bronze ball. I had taken a picture of the awards with Megan and Alex since they both won awards as well. I couldn’t help it as my attention was drawn to Jill. I was able to eventually hand my awards off so that they would make it back to the hotel.

Christen and Tobin had stopped me when I moved to go over to Jill. They both congratulated me and I had thanked them. I knew that I would never be the player I was without them taking me under their wing and helping me. I eventually was able to get past them and to the Dutch midfielder that I had been trying to get to.

“Hey,” I softly said.

Jill smiled at me even through her tears. I immediately hugged her. Jill held on tightly to me. The past two months had been hard for both of us to be so close to each other but not able to see each other.

“I’m proud of you,” Jill mumbled into my neck. I pulled back from her and smiled at her. “I’m really proud. I want your jersey.”

“You want to swap?”

The fact that Jill wanted to swap our jerseys even though they would end up at my apartment in London soon enough confused me. Everyone knew that Jill had signed with Arsenal, and while a lot of her stuff was at the apartment, we didn’t have time to unpack it before the two of us had left for the World Cup.

“No, I just want your jersey eventually,” Jill shook her head. I still wasn’t sure what she wanted it for.

“It’s probably going to smell like alcohol after tonight,” I chuckled. I knew that my jersey was probably going to get soaked in alcohol as soon as we entered the locker room.

“(Y/N)!”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Sonnett running toward me with a grin and a white jersey in her hand. Sonnett stopped beside Jill and I before holding the jersey out to me.

“Dude, they got us these cool jerseys,” Sonnett immediately started to say. I knew that if I didn’t get her to leave soon then I wouldn’t get to talk to Jill until after we left the arena. “There’s one for all of us.”

“Cool,” I said as I took the jersey. I glanced at Jill who looked ready to leave.

“Ik bel je later,” Jill muttered causing me to grab on her wrist. (I will call you later.)

“Nee wacht. Geef me een moment om van haar af te komen,” I said causing Sonnett to look surprised at the fact that I knew Dutch. Jill looked surprised that I was willing to get rid of my teammate. (No, wait. Give me just a moment to get rid of her.)

“Can you make sure that there’s some actual beer saved for me to drink and not to just spray around everywhere?” I asked Sonnett.

The defender immediately perked at the mention of beer. Sonnett nodded before rushing off to make sure we had beer to drink. I turned back to Jill before pulling my game jersey off.

“Here, this way I can’t lose it cause you know I lose everything,” I said. Jill chuckled a little at the before taking the jersey from me.

I saw Jill’s eyes wander down to my waist and she smiled at the new tattoo that I had. I hadn’t shown her yet due to the fact that I had gotten it just after Jill had left to join her own national team and I wanted Jill to see it in person rather than as a picture.

“You actually got it,” Jill whispered.

“Yeah, I did,” I nodded. Jill touched the tattoo and lightly traced it. “Your handwriting and all. I figured it was appropriate since you were the one who started to call me Schatje.” (Little treasure.)

I pulled the jersey Sonnett had given me over my head. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone from my team was going to come to drag me away. I wasn’t too surprised that Christen and Tobin were headed my way, but I was surprised by the fact that the whole team was headed here. I looked back at Jill.

“I know we said we didn’t want to go public with our relationship until we got into a groove with both of us being at Arsenal, but my teammates got their kisses from their partners and, it’s been a while-”

I couldn’t finish what I was saying because Jill had pulled me closer to her. I immediately kissed the Dutch player back when I felt her lips crash into mine. I ignored the cheers and shouts behind me, but apparently Jill didn’t because she pulled back not long after. Jill glanced behind me before giving me a kiss by my ear.

“Go join your teammates. I have a room for us at a different hotel where we can have our own little party after you guys get done.”

My jaw slacked but I didn’t have time to say anything to Jill because she had already turned and ran to join her own teammates. I felt someone sling their arm around my shoulder.

“Way to get some, (Y/N),” Ash cheered right in my ear. I wasn’t too surprised that Ali slapped the back of Ash’s head causing the goalie to grumble and rub the back of her head.

“Hey, Roord!” I called out. Jill turned around to look at me. “Ik hou van je, lieverd.” (I love you, sweetheart.)

“Ik hou ook van je.” (I love you too.)

“Oi, (Y/N)! What about me?”

I shook my head at Danielle. She often teased me over the past two years whenever Jill would call me since we were in different countries. But Danielle had been ready to throw hands for me many times during our matches for Arsenal.

“Je bent zo behoeftig,” I complained. Danielle threw a glare at me and I laughed at her. “Ik hou ook van jou, kleine krijger.” (You’re so needy. I love you as well, little warrior.)

Danielle smirked at that and I saw her turn to brag about it to Jill. I only shook my head at them before turning to my teammates. I swiped the beer from Kelley’s hand before she could drink from it. Before the older defender could do anything, Christen and Tobin had already moved to my sides probably to talk to me about the relationship I had with Jill. I couldn’t help but smile as I told them about the Dutch woman who had stolen my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned as Jill came out of the bathroom. I was already dressed since I was having to leave today to head to the US for our celebration. Jill was going to take her time, however, since her team wouldn’t be flying out until much later. Jill was dressed in one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts.

“What are you smiling about?”

“How lucky I am,” I said as I stood up from the foot of the bed. “I mean, I just won the World Cup and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life is still here even though she’s the one I had to beat to win the World Cup.”

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“I mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Jill, I’ve been dating you for 3 years now. If I didn’t seriously see us together for the rest of my life, then I wouldn’t still be with you. One day, I’m going to marry you.”

“I also can’t believe you would think that I would leave you because you beat me for the World Cup,” Jill shook her head. She pressed a kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait for you to make me yours forever.”

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around her waist. I wished we could stay like this forever. But sadly we couldn’t. I did have a plane to catch soon.

“I’ll see you in London?”

“Of course you will,” Jill nodded. Jill pulled back from me before digging through her bag. “I have something for you. I was going to wait until we got back to London, but I might as well give it to you now.”

I took the little black box from her and smiled. I opened the box and chuckled when I saw the ring. The ring was a simple silver band with a designed etched into it. I slid the ring onto my finger before pulling my own small black box from my bag.

“I kind of got you one too,” I said as Jill took the box from me. “We were shopping for a ring for Tobin to give to Christen and I wanted to do something special for you. I’m not asking you to marry me, but this is a promise that I will marry you one day.”

Jill grinned before she kissed me. I smiled when she pulled back.

“I’ll see you in London, okay?”

The Dutch woman gave me one last kiss before I grabbed my bags and headed out of the room. I gave her a small wave just before I closed the door behind me. I couldn’t wait for the celebrations to be over and to be on a plane back to London.

#jill roord imagine #jill roord imagines #jill roord x reader #Jill roord #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #uswnt #arsenal imagine #arsenal imagines #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader

601 notes · View notes