#i feel the same about my trip to england even though that was only a year and a half ago

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

[katelynnwrites]

I Think Of You (When I Think About Forever) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: mean words

word count: 1430

summary: felicitas is your forever no matter what anyone else says

a/n: requested, part two to You Are In Love (True Love)

‘I’m so in love with you.’ Feli declares.

You giggle, ‘You’re only saying that because I’m giving you a massage.’

‘Not just that. You know it’s not only because of that.’ Your girlfriend complains.

‘I know.’ You promise, kissing the back of her neck.

Felicitas smiles and then in one swift movement, pushes you down onto the bed beside her.

She straddles you and you groan, ‘Feli.’

‘Liebling.’ She mocks and you roll your eyes.

‘I love you.’ The older woman reminds you before bringing her lips down to meet yours.

You melt and your girlfriend makes a pleased noise at the effect she has on you.

She kisses you a few more times and then pulls back just enough to breathe.

Her eyes are sparkling and you can’t help but softly whisper, ‘I never thought I would be doing this here.’

‘Doing what?’ Feli prompts.

‘Kissing the love of my life in the bedroom I grew up in.’

Felicitas laughs, ‘Want to do that again?’

Very eagerly, you pull her close by the collar of her shirt so that you can answer her question.

******

A few hours later and you have reluctantly stopped making out with your girlfriend, in favour of making yourself presentable.

Your parents had decided to host a dinner for all your extended family so that you could spend time with them.

In playing for Wolfsburg, you have missed out on a lot of family time. It bothers you sometimes but you make the trip from Germany to England as often as you can.

This time though, you’ve brought your girlfriend with you.

You pick up on Feli’s anxiety easily, your German girlfriend having changed her outfit three times already.

‘Feli you look stunning. Don’t worry, my parents love you and I’m sure that the rest of my family will too. Honestly, my love relax.’

‘Are you sure?’ She nervously asks.

‘I’m positive. Besides, you’ve already impressed the most important members of my family. Anyone after that is a bonus. Although I will give you extra credit if you get my baby nieces to like you.’

You kiss her reassuringly and after a moment, you feel her smile against your lips.

******

Felicitas proves you right.

Your grandparents welcome her with open arms and your baby nieces adore her.

They chase her around your parents’ backyard and she lets them catch her.

It’s a pile of infectious giggles that you walk up to and your youngest niece raises her arms, asking to be picked up when she sees you approaching.

You do as she asks and your sister’s daughter leans in to conspiratorially whisper, ‘Your girlfriend is cool.’

‘I know she is.’ You tell her just as seriously.

It makes Feli, who is eavesdropping on the whole conversation, laugh.

‘Want Mama now.’ She whines and you chuckle.

You glance over at Felicitas to check if she’s okay to be left alone with your other niece for a while and she nods.

So you take her over to your sister. She kicks her little legs excitedly and then thanks you sweetly when she’s back in her mother’s arms.

Your sister gives you a smile and then your niece starts telling her all about Feli and how she hopes you’re going to marry her.

You blush and excuse yourself quickly, not wanting to be teased by your older sister.

Though you do know that you share the same hope as you make your way back to Felicitas.

******

It’s a lovely night and you’re thankful for the rare chance to see your relatives.

Though your parents have invited more members of your extended family than you had expected.

You’ve seen the cousins you grew up with and the aunts who doted on you as you were doing so.

Even one of your more distant cousins, who you haven’t seen since you were twelve has shown up.

You are having a good time and from the way Feli is laughing with your mother, you think she is too.

You can’t resist going up to her and pressing a kiss against her cheek.

‘Hello liebling.’ She murmurs and you smile.

‘I’m just going to get another water from the fridge and then I’ll be right back. Do you want anything?’

You shake your head with another grin and your girlfriend kisses your forehead before leaving.

Your mother chuckles, having observed the whole interaction.

‘What Mom?’’

‘She’s so taken with you. It’s a mutual feeling I can tell.’

You flush a bright red again and your mother tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

‘To be honest I was a bit worried when you first told me about Felicitas. Now that I’ve met her and seen how in love the both of you are, I’m not at all worried. In fact, I’m so happy for the both of you.’

‘Thanks Mom.’

Feli reappears with her bottle of water then.

You pull her into your side and she instinctively reaches for your hand.

******

Something isn’t right with your girlfriend. She has always had a tendency to be on the quiet side but now she’s unusually so.

You’re worried she is overwhelmed so you take her to your room and sit down beside her. Most of your relatives have left now anyway.

‘What’s wrong love?’

Your girlfriend lets out a shaky breath.

The pair of you are long past trying to hide anything from each other so she quietly begins, ‘I overheard your distant cousin saying some things…’

‘What things?’

‘She um, she said…’

Felicitas squeezes her eyes shut tightly and then recounts what she’d unintentionally heard.

The moment is fresh in her mind.

She’s walking past the living room when she hears your cousin mention her name.

She didn’t mean to pry but she could not stop herself from listening in.

Your cousin is sitting with a few of your other relatives that you had already introduced Feli to earlier.

As Felicitas lingers outside the living room, your cousin says, ‘Look I know that it is accepted for people like my dear cousin to not be with a man now but can’t she at least find a looker? Her girlfriend looks ten years older and those eyebags she has isn’t helping. Doesn’t she sleep?’

Feli chooses not to hear anything else, quickly making her way back to you.

You swear rapidly after your girlfriend relays your cousin’s words to you.

‘I’m okay with whatever others have to say about me. That doesn’t bother me anymore but when they talk about you that way, it hurts.’ Feli barely audibly continues.

‘It has to be hurting you too liebling.’

Your girlfriend worriedly reaches for your hand and then squeezes it with concern.

She makes your heartbeat stutter with just how much love you feel for her.

Here she is, trying to check that you are okay after overhearing one of your family members making rude comments about her.

You shake your head, leaning in close to kiss her with as much reassurance as you can.

‘It doesn’t. My cousin, the one who is talking about our relationship like she knows us? She’s an idiot. She is never going to get it. You’re beautiful Feli, inside and out. You make me so happy, happier than anyone ever has. I love you and I don’t give a shit about what anyone says because I want to be with you. I want to love you like you love me. I’m proud of the love we share.’

Your girlfriend tears up and nods, whispering, ‘I’m proud of the love we share too.’

‘I’m sorry you had to hear those awful things.’

‘It’s alright. Like you said, she doesn’t know either of us and she is an idiot.’

You laugh and kiss your girl lightly.

‘She moved out of the area when we were pretty young but before that, I used to practice my slide tackles on her. That’s probably why she doesn’t like me.’

Felicitas giggles and you kiss her again.

Sharing kisses with Feli will always make the butterflies in your stomach come alive, no matter how many times you do so.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ Feli murmurs and you smile.

‘I love you too.’

******

If later that night, while Feli is in the shower, you walk up to your cousin just as she’s leaving and threaten to make her life unpleasant if she ever says anything bad about your girlfriend again well, Felicitas doesn’t need to know that.

It does give you an immense sense of satisfaction as you cuddle up to sleep beside your girl though.

German Translations:

liebling - love

ich liebe dich - i love you

#posting this with one hand while i feed the kid in my lap her milk with the other 😂 #feli rauch #felicitas rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader #gerwnt x reader #gerwnt imagine #dfb frauen imagine #dfb frauen x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

[cod-dump]

Hope your head has stopped trying to commit a crime, so pardon my bothering.

This is the Simon Riley has a grave anon here with more concerning it! (because for some reason it randomly popped back into my head and I must share)

There's a new recruit about to be sent to train on the 141's base, but is delayed due to personal hardship. His grandfather had just passed, and he needed some time. This recruit never had a father, and his grandpa just filled that role so easily, so losing him was hard. Turns out, this recruit is also from Manchester and his grandpa is buried next to one "Lieutenant Simon Riley"

Recruit gives a brief salute to the "deceased" lieutenant as he asks him to be a good neighbor to Pop.

Once he's back on base, he's heard stories about "Ghost" already, even before being on base, when he first joined and was told where he would be sent to. He's nervous about meeting him, especially given he's a week late and doesn't know anything else. And it's during his first training session with his new lieutenant that really freaks him out. Ghost is in a sour mood, and snaps at this recruit after not recognizing him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Private Tyler Maverick, sir." Ghost eyes him suspiciously.

"You're a week late. Better be for a damn good reason." Ghost clearly was not present at the base to be informed of why Maverick was late.

"Had to bury someone, sir." There's an awkward pause as Ghost stares at him. Ghost just grunts in response before turning away and pretty much ignoring Maverick the rest of the day. Later that day, around dinner, Maverick is told to meet the lieutenant in his office. When he enters, Ghost is leaning against the desk, arms crossed and given no hint of what he wanted Maverick for.

"You asked for me, sir?"

"Wanted to apologize for my comment earlier. I had only just rolled in the night before and didn't get briefed on the new recruits very long." Maverick shakes his head.

"Nothing I can't handle, sir. If I can't handle a comment about burying a family member, then I shouldn't be here." Ghost narrows his eyes in questioning.

"Doesn't make it right, though. Burying family is a nasty business." Maverick shrugs, not really wanting to go into the whole thing, but it seems Ghost has other plans.

"How you holding up? I hear you only had a couple days before being shipped out."

"Fine, honest. Been kept busy the whole time so I guess it hasn't really hit yet." Maverick nervously rubs at his neck, starting to see where Ghost was going with this.

"Some of us move on faster than others, especially depending on who they lost." Ghost comments, and Maverick wants to curl in on himself. He'd heard stories about Ghost's uncanny ability to read someone with pinpoint accuracy, but he never thought he'd be the subject of it.

"Lost my grandpa. He was more like my dad, never got to meet the real deal, ya know? Died when I was young. For a really long time, Pop was all I had. Mom worked all the time and I was an only child. Now I'm here, and he's buried and it all just feels so surreal but in a bad way. I don't know, but I'm okay, sir, honest." Maverick rambles, tripping over his words as he tries to rush up in case his little rant had upset Ghost.

"Yeah and I'm the bloody Queen of England. But, fine, I'll go with it for now. Tell me when it gets to be a problem, though. Can't have my soldiers compromised." Maverick nods.

"Yessir. And, if you don't mind, I never got to properly meet you, sir, so I never caught your name."

"Simon Riley." Maverick pales almost immediately as recognition of the name dawns on him.

"You all right?"

"It's got to be a coincidence." He whispers and Ghost cocks his head at him.

"What is?"

"There's a lieutenant buried next to Pop with the same name as you."

"Manchester?"

"Yessir. Hell, I even asked him to be a good neighbor." Maverick mutters the second sentence, hoping Ghost wouldn't hear it.

"S'alright, I'm a pretty quiet neighbor." If it weren't for the deadpan way Ghost had said it, or the absurdity of the situation, Maverick would have passed out right there.

"I-I'm sorry?" He asks between nervous laughs.

"Name Ghost comes from somewhere, ya know. Dismissed." Maverick has never left a room so fast in his life.

He does eventually get an answer, and loads more questions, about the grave from Gaz.

"Oh yeah, it's a long story. Don't worry, Private Bones is also a good neighbor, even if he is an alcoholic."

Maverick has officially decided to never question his superior officers ever again, and he ends up being the one recruit they can fuck around in front of because he'll just blink at them before going back to whatever he was doing and never mention anything again.

He definitely makes sure to tell Pop how interesting his neighbor is every chance he gets.

(this turned into an actual something, I'm sorry, didn't mean that to happen but it is what it is)

Adding Tyler Maverick to the list of recruits that Ghost has adopted unintentionally.

I love this!!

And I'm feeling much better than what I was this morning, thank you <3

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #ficlet

[holdupjack]

The Empress Of Ireland

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Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Based on the real-life sinking of the ship

WARNING: Angst/No Comfort

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Third Person P.O.V:

May 28th, 1914

4:30 P.M

Y/n Y/l/n stood at the port in Quebec, Canada. Her eyes trailed the side of the RMS Empress of Ireland as the lights on the port deck shone halfway up its side. It was only a few hundred feet smaller than the once-powerful Titanic, God rest those lost. It was older, this voyage was about to be its 96th stretch across the Atlantic.

Even though it has been two years since the news of the once unsinkable beast, and the many safety precautions now added to Liners, the fear still resided in many's chests when having to board one.

Y/n was no different, she wouldn't have gotten back on a ship if it wasn't for a job opportunity in Liverpool.

The young woman had finished her studies at University a month prior, and now was heading to England to pursue a career as a Physician.

An older man smiled from his spot in front of the walkway as she stepped towards him with her third-class ticket, he looked at it for authenticity and nodded towards a young man who had a comb and tongue depressor on standby a few feet away from them.

Y/n begrudgingly let him check her for lice and any illness in the back of her throat. The man apologized softly as he looked over with his flashlight, even the lights from the ship weren't enough to see that night.

"Hello, may I have my luggage sent up to my suite? It's room 13B." A soft voice asks from beside her. Y/n eyes flickered to find someone she didn't expect to know, but she almost jumped for joy.

Hermione Granger stood beside her in the nicest dress and jewelry she had ever seen. Y/n felt her throat close, and even the man said to relax as he looked into her mouth.

They had been friends in University. Y/n had struggled to pay for the supplies and books she needed for class, but Hermione was a well-off girl. Her parents exuded the style of passing down wealth like moths to a flame, and Hermione was the same.

Yet, the young woman didn't flaunt it unless she had to. They had spent more than a few nights talking together, Y/n had listened intently as Hermione explained that she planned to become a surgeon and to begin her life in Canada without the help of her parents.

Hermione seemed to detest the wealth she had and would gain, seemingly wanting a hard but simple life. Y/n would nod, and joke that she would gladly switch lives with her. The young heiress smiled and happily encouraged Y/n to speak about her life and tell her every simple task she had ever done.

Of course though, after a night spent studying at Hermione's apartment near the school. Y/n had found herself resting her head in the humble woman's lap, just staring at her as Hermione read over one of the books she had bought from the local bookstore.

Something brewed fiercely within Y/n, a new feeling that made her want to run and hide from her friend.

Hermione's eyes had finally caught Y/n's, and a soft smile grazed her lips as she noticed the sweat droplet that fell from the girl's forehead.

One thing led to another, Y/n wasn't sure if it was the staring or the soft touches, but they shared a heated kiss in the big living area they resided in.

When they broke apart, surprisingly Hermione wasn't the one to go into a frenzy, it was Y/n. She started to babble overlapped apologies as she gathered her things and tried to make a swift exit.

Well, she tried. Only to slip on the rug and then trip over the coffee table on her way out. Hermione covered her mouth in an attempt not to laugh but soon called out for her that didn't need to go.

Y/n was already out the door, still apologizing to her even out of earshot. Hermione chuckled as she softly blotted her fingers against her lips. The tingles that came from them set her cheeks as vibrant as a blood orange.

As you could expect, Y/n avoided her like she was a wanted criminal hiding from the police. Hermione kept her distance of course, but now and again she would pass by her and gently run her nails across her back. Teasing and tempting the poor soul to come back to her, and stop being so ignorant of her feelings.

Months went by and eventually, Hermione did let her be, knowing that something as taboo as this could set them both down a path they could not walk back from.

Their careers were important, and being a woman in them was already hard enough, they didn't need another target on their back.

But, Hermione was still willing to take the risk anyway.

"Alright, go ahead"

Y/n snapped back into reality as the man in front of her, ushered to the walkway. Hermione let out a soft chuckle as her bags were quickly grabbed by some of the crew to be taken to her room.

The girls didn't stare at one another, but it was obvious they knew of each other by the tension that stood between them.

The older man eyed them with a raised brow but bit his tongue. He knew better than to pry into the lives of the wealthy, but with someone like Y/n being associated with the likes of Hermione? It made him ponder about their history.

"Thank you" Y/n states as she quickly shifts her bag on her shoulder. Hermione finally looked her way as she jogged up the walkway and disappeared into the ship.

"Mingling with miscreants miss?" the younger man asks, and Hermione looks at him with a raised smug look on her face. A twinge of annoyance filled her chest.

"Trust me, sir, that is no miscreant. That is a future heiress to my fortune."

The older man's interest peaked even more.

——————

8:00 P.M

Y/n settled her belongings in her shared room after a few hours of exploring and met a nice older couple who were going to visit their families for a grandchild's birthday.

After a few minutes of chatting away, they were notified by the steward that the ship was going to pass the last of the cities.

The couple declined the wave goodbye to the mainland, saying it was far too late for them to be doing this much exercise.

Y/n just chuckled and followed the man back onto the main deck, passing by many third-class passengers. A few were laughing loudly as they spoke in drunken Gaelic, Y/n was surprised that they had gotten wasted so quickly, but there was a very good chance that they hadn't gotten on the ship sober in the first place.

Trailing up the stairs to the main deck, the steward went his separate way and left Y/n to her own devices. She stepped towards the railing, surprised to see a good number of people waving at them from land, people around her yelled back their goodbyes.

The ship's horn sang loudly, making Y/n jump as the cheering got louder because of it. She leaned against the railing and watched the little kids laugh and wave on their father's backs on the shore.

"Anyone you know?"

Y/n jumped once again, she hadn't realized that Hermione had taken the spot next to her. A small smile danced on her lips as she looked out into the two handfuls of people down below.

"No, sadly I'm stuck on a boat with someone I know for the next few weeks" Y/n mumbled, to which Hermione had to lean in to hear over all the cheering.

"Oh come on lovely, don't be like that" Hermione replied quietly as the boat began to be guided out.

Y/n sighed quietly as a group of high-class women walked past them. The older one turned up her nose at Y/n's back as she quickly noticed the well-worn and cheap clothes. The difference between Hermione and her infatuation was very easy to spot, the woman cleared her throat.

The girls turned to her and Hermione held back an eye roll. She quickly put on her kindest smile and rested her hands in front of her politely.

"Hello Madame Umbridge, nice to see you" Hermione greets as she lies through her teeth, she almost thought they would shatter because of it.

Dolores was the one her mother had asked to look out for her while away from home. Hermione despised the woman. Her choice of bright pink and Tyrian Purple made her eyes hurt, and she didn't even get the young heiress started on their political differences.

(A/N: fun fact, Tyrian Purple is the most expensive/oldest dye! Can you guys believe the stuff I google to give a deep dive into these stupid imagines.)

"Hello dear, and who is this...young woman?" The older woman asked, obviously trying to secretly ask 'Why are you standing next to trash?'.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something that would embarrass her or Y/n.

"This is Y/n Y/l/n, she's a friend of mine from university. Y/n, this is Dolores Umbridge, she's the one who's been looking out for me these last few years." Hermione explained as Dolores nodded and gave a polite smile to the lesser woman.

"Nice to meet you" Y/n replied as the hard-to-miss glares from the women around them as it barreled down on her.

"Likewise. Now, Hermione, I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you were going to stay in Canada?" Dolores asks as she directs her attention back onto the chocolate-curled beauty.

"Oh, I decided to come back home for a few months to sort something out. If all goes well, I may be staying back home after all" Hermione states, as Dolores seemed pleased by the news.

"Oh, how wonderful! I would love to introduce you to a friend of mine while you are home. He's an heir to a railway fortune, and he's very kind." Dolores says and Y/n notices Hermione clench her jaw slightly.

"Absolutely Madame Umbridge, that is very kind of you," Hermione replied, but the annoyance in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by Y/n.

"Well, we'll leave you two to talk. The ladies and I have a Bridge game to attend." Dolores says as she parted ways with the girls, her pack of similar-looking women close behind her.

When she was far enough away, Hermione sighed softly and turned back towards the city that was slowly going by.

"You seem upset," Y/n says as the deck of the ship was almost deserted of people, everyone either turning in for the night or going to one of the many parties on board.

"She's been trying to butter me up to the idea of letting myself be courted by some random man back home." Hermione states as she pushes away a strand of hair that fell into her line of sight.

"Who is he? A rich husband doesn't sound too bad." Y/n replies as she leaned against the railing with her, their shoulders brushed occasionally.

Y/n didn't know why she was still engaging with Hermione, that interaction with her kind of people was enough to show they were too different. But, the pull she had on the future Physician was concerning.

It made her want to be locked into the girl's orbit like the moon, slightly tugging back enough to mess with the tides of her life, but not enough to scare the nature of her personality.

"Severus Snape. He's twice my senior!" Hermione stated with obvious distaste on her tongue as she spoke his name. Y/n sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth and looked up at the moon above them.

"She said he was an Heir, his parents are still alive?" Y/n asks, slightly surprised to hear of an older gentleman not being bestowed the company or fortune already.

"His father is a stubborn old goat, my father worked with him on a business deal a few years ago. He said that Severus could never handle their fortune while he was still single." Hermione explains and Y/n nods as the details make a lot more sense.

"Ah, the father wants grandchildren to continue on his legacy?" Y/n asks, to which Hermione nodded this time at the response.

"Exactly love," she says as the ship softly chugged down the river. It was getting cold, not enough to send them inside, but a perfect excuse to move in close. Hermione stepped back and gestured to their left.

"Let's walk towards the bow, there's a better view of the sky," Hermione suggests as she watches the lights beside her illuminate Y/n's face. Soft and welcoming.

"Alright," Y/n agrees as they slowly make their way to the front of the ship, a band practiced somewhere nearby. If Y/n remembered correctly, the couple said that the Salvation Army and their band were sailing to England, there were over a hundred and sixty-seven of them.

(A/N: actually true! That's the whole reason the Salvation Army didn't have a band for many years after it sank. If I remember correctly, only eight survived.)

"Do you like the stars?" Hermione asks, breaking Y/n from her thoughts as they watch a steward complaining to one another about some woman from second class.

"The stars? Of course, don't you?" Y/n replied as they passed the dining hall, a good amount of people having a late dinner inside.

"I do, but I would like to know why you do" She hummed as her eyes followed the wood panels below their feet.

"Well uh, I guess it would have to be the unknown about it," Y/n says as two men laugh up ahead, smoking high-quality cigars, Hermione could tell by the smell.

"The unknown? Doesn't that scare you?" Hermione whispers as they walk by the older men, who don't even give them a passing glance.

"No, because why should I be scared of something I don't understand? I'd rather take in its beauty while I'm unknowingly staring into my death." Y/n says as their hands brush one another's with temptation. Hermione felt her fingers twitch, everything in her whispering to hold it.

Hermione had never found same-sex couples 'disgusting', as her peers would call it. She had spent a summer in Greece a year before coming to Canada. Her parents had tried to discourage her from learning about their history, but she didn't listen.

That's when she learned that it was very common and accepted to fall in love with another woman or man. The man she had talked to even said that it was considered sacred and pure, and he didn't like how the Christian Puritans from England and America were tainting the world's cultures.

Then she started questioning herself, and how she saw men and women. She was easily agitated and put off by the male suitors her parents would try to set her up with.

She never had any attraction towards her female friends, so she thought it was just a bit of overthinking on her part.

She just hadn't found the right guy.

Then Y/n came along.

Oh, Hermione felt as though Y/n had been picked out of a romance novel just for her. Everything about her seemed like she had been sculpted to mold her perfectly.

Of course, though, she knew that most likely her feelings would never be reciprocated. The chance of her being interested in women was a long shot, and she wasn't willing to risk it.

You could imagine her surprise when they kissed. Hermione had tried to place her hands to hold Y/n in place, not wanting the lovely experience to end.

You already know how that ended though.

"Why do you like the stars?"

Hermione blinked a few times as they walked onto the bow of the ship, surprised to find it empty.

"I'm not sure, maybe I'll take your answer" Hermione hums as they take a seat on one of the benches.

"Very original" Y/n chuckled as the heavens slowly started to reveal themselves the further they got from the city, the smog was slowly falling away to show the bright night sky.

Their conversation fell away as they stared out into the inky abyss, both knowing that a talk about what happened was bound to come up sooner or later.

"Why did you run away?" Hermione whispered as she placed her hand in the small area between them.

"Hermione" Y/n warned, but that only lulled her closer, causing the heiress to press her shoulder against hers.

"Y/n-"

"We can't. It's wrong." Y/n replies as she stares blankly in front of her. Hermione watched her side profile intently, she could see the small swallows of nervousness she tried to hide, and the shaking of her leg.

"You don't believe that," Hermione says as her hand slowly grasps Y/n's, pulling it back to the middle of them to be hidden.

She felt her stiffen, but as Hermione slowly slipped her fingers into the spaces of her hand, Y/n ultimately relaxed at the touch.

"It does not matter what I believe, it's a matter of life or death" she whispers back as the night air blows across their faces. Hermione hummed as she looked around them, it was still a ghost town. Or ghost ship, technically.

(A/N: the irony)

"What if it's worth it? The risks?" Hermione asks as she looks back at the woman, smiling as she sees her fluster at the thought of them together.

"Well uh...it depends" she mumbles as a seagull flew overhead, which Hermione pleaded that it wouldn't shit on their parade. Literally.

"Depends on what?" She asked as her head leaned slightly closer, to which Y/n finally turned towards her to object to this breach of personal space.

Yet when she looked into those leather-colored eyes, she felt her voice give way. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times, causing Hermione to chuckle softly and press a small kiss against Y/n.

It was quick but like before, it left a desirable tingling on their lips, almost making Hermione forget where she was and making her want to push Y/n onto the bench.

She refrained and quickly backed away when they heard distant laughter, spooking them slightly.

Y/n stared down at the ground, waiting for yelling or a punch from somewhere in the shadows, but nothing came.

Hermione hummed happily as she squeezed her hand and looked back at the night sky.

"It's alright lovely" Hermione whispered as her eyes gazed over the heavens, her smile was as bright as sunlight on this cold night, Y/n almost thought it could chase away the shadows of the moon.

The silence between them was deafening, either girl waiting for the other to speak what was screaming in their minds.

"Why are you going back home to England?" Y/n asks, which takes Hermione by surprise, her eyes flicker back to Y/n as the lamp behind them casts a soft light across the side of her face.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione hummed as her fingertips tapped Y/n's palm, she matched the beat of the band playing nearby.

"You told me all through schooling how you weren't going home, you wanted to start your own life. Why have you changed your mind, really?" Y/n asks as she follows the floor of the bow with her gaze.

Hermione thought for a moment and hummed softly. Should she say it? Should she admit she was following her back home to spoil and take care of her if she'll let her?

No, not yet.

"Can't I change my mind?" The well-off girl asked as she looked back at Y/n, who slipped her hand away and smiled.

Hermione almost grasped after it, but she hadn't noticed voices growing closer to them.

A group of boys walked towards the front of the ship, they nodded a 'good evening' to the women as they went by.

They nodded back kindly as the boys ran over to the tip of the boat and looked around the water.

Hermione watched her infatuation from the corner of her eye, Y/n's face had a soft dust of pink across the top of her cheeks, connecting over the bridge of her nose.

"Would you like to have a late dinner with me? My treat." Hermione blurted out all too eagerly, which made her slightly embarrassed, which was very unladylike. She never lost her composure this easily.

Y/n looked at her for a moment, her heart pounding like an erratic storm. Her eyes trailed across Hermione's face as her hair blew in the growing wind.

Even in the man-made light of the ship, her hair is like a sun-kissed field of golden wheat, gently blowing in the river wind, waving back and forth with each gust, her locks of hair swaying to and fro, begging to be touched and ran threw with loving fingers.

"Uh, alright" Y/n agreed as Hermione tried to suppress the grin on her face as she stood up, waiting for her to follow.

——————

11:11 P.M

The first-class dining hall was mostly empty, almost everyone had gone to bed or was gambling with strangers in the rooms next door. The girls sat at a booth in the corner, near one of the windows, looking out into the night.

The waiter had brought the first-class menus, which were much nicer than the third-class food, and left glasses of Madeira wine. It was obvious he could see their financial differences, but he minded his business. He wanted a good tip from the brunette.

"So, where will you be living in Liverpool?" Hermione hums as her dark brown eyes mindlessly follow the words on the menu.

"I found a little apartment not that far from the office, the woman that owns the complex is very kind" Y/n whispers as the sound of the river seems softer than usual, maybe the glass was thicker in first class.

"When do you start?" Hermione asks, knowing that Y/n had a hard time staying afloat while in university, no pun intended.

"In a few weeks, I'll be working odd jobs until I get my first paycheck from my official place of work" Y/n states as she gazed upon the delicate woman's face. Well, delicate isn't the right word, porcelain maybe? Yes, that's it.

Hermione Granger is as beautiful as porcelain, like fine Chinese pottery. Her delicate beauty is a sight to behold, yet so fragile and easily broken. She gleams and shimmers in the light, with a glow that warms the heart. Yet, beneath the surface, she holds the weight and memories of a thousand lifetimes.

Despite her beauty, she has endured many bumps and cracks, and the scars only add charm to her beauty. She is delicate, yet strong; ethereal yet rooted in the world. Like porcelain, her beauty is timeless and ageless, yet her heart still yearns to be held and loved.

"Your eyes are soft, what is on your mind?"

Y/n blinked and focused back onto Hermione, who watched as Y/n's eyes dilated rapidly.

Her eyes expanded like two dark holes in the night sky just outside, absorbing the light in the hall in an instant. They were bottomless wells of awe and admiration, ever-watching and perceiving every detail of Hermione's face.

"Soft?" Y/n hummed as she took a sip of her wine, it was much smoother than the malt liquors and beers she could afford. God, she didn't even want to know the price of it.

"Yes, soft. What's on your mind?" Hermione asks again as she rests her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm.

The smile on her face spoke whispers of deference without making a sound, seemingly dripping endless confessions of infatuation laced in each ridge and curve.

"You don't seem deterred from being seen with me, aren't you nervous about Madame Umbridge seeing you still talking to me?" Y/n asks, deciding to divert her thoughts away from the obvious attraction and tension growing between them.

"No, why would I? I can be acquainted with whoever I like" Hermione hums matter-of-factly as her eyes glowed in the candlelight, their warm hues shifting and changing as the flames danced.

Y/n realized that Hermione was stating that she had no plan of letting her run away again. Maybe it was the romantic atmosphere or the way the young Heiress pupils dilated, but she felt the chain of obsession clings between them.

"A-Alright" She replied. Hermione chuckled softly as the waiter came by again, and took their orders.

"What can I get you ladies this evening?" He asks as he takes out his notepad, he looks at Hermione first with a kind smile.

"I'll have Roasted Duckling topped with Apple Sauce, and a side of Chateau Potatoes" Hermione hummed as she handed him the menu, he nodded and quickly looked at Y/n.

"I'll just have the boiled rice" she replies as she hands him the menu, he just smiles but the man is slightly surprised to see an obvious urchin like her to choose the cheapest thing on the menu. He usually saw people like her take full advantage of their rich payers, but that didn't seem to be the case this time.

"Boiled rice? That is no dinner for an upcoming physician! Please, give her the same as I" Hermione states as the man scratched out the boiled rice and wrote down an X2 next to the woman's order.

This was, yet again, strange. He was used to having the rich try to coax their guests to buy something cheaper, but to have them almost force the best of the best? Now that was a sight to see.

Y/n jolted suddenly as Hermione's foot grazed her thigh, her knees banged into the table as the waiter looked at her in concern.

"Are you alright?" He asks and Y/n quickly clears her throat and nods sheepishly. Hermione stared at her with a devilish smirk as her foot traced Y/n's leg teasingly.

"Yes, sorry" she coughed out as the man nodded and quickly walked away. Her hand reached under the table and grabbed the brunette's ankle like a small warning, but the hold was gentle.

Their eyes burrowed into each other's, Hermione was just grinning as she saw a soft maroon color sprinkle onto Y/n's cheeks.

"Don't look so nervous" Hermione chuckled as Y/n let her foot go and gave a sigh in response, but a smile crept onto her lips as they stared at one another.

"You're a danger to be around" Y/n chuckled as she took another sip of her wine, obviously trying to calm her nerves as Hermione tried her best to keep to herself.

"Part of the charm...isn't it?" Hermione replied as Y/n looked around the Dining Hall. It would be clear to anyone who was listening that those two sentences meant more than they would know, it was almost like the secret was being screamed out, but in incoherent riddles.

"I would say so" Y/n replied as the ship chugged its way along the river, towards the open ocean.

The girls fell quiet as they waited for their dinner to arrive, seemingly nervous to say something that could be overheard.

"Would you like to come to my room after dessert? We could share a nightcap or two?" Hermione whispers as her eyes fall to Y/n's lips and back to her gaze multiple times.

Y/n swallowed as her face flushed again, yet Hermione looked utterly taken by the woman across from her.

"I wouldn't want to imp-" Y/n started but she was quickly shut down when Hermione spoke again.

"Please, it would be my pleasure" she whispered as her eyes flickered between smitten and pure want.

Y/n swallowed her nervousness again and just nodded, afraid to say the wrong thing. Hermione smiled softly.

What did Y/n just agree to?

——————

May 29th, 1914

1:30 A.M

The dinner went by within a blink of an eye, and the two soon walked up the stairs towards the first-class cabins.

Y/n followed behind Hermione as she watched her beautiful curls bounce with each step she took. The ship's lights made her look like an angel floating into heaven, a fuzzy and dim atmosphere clouded around them.

A steward walked towards Hermione and smiled brightly, his black slicked-back hair was too shiny to look at.

"Good morning Miss Granger! How may I assist you this fine morning?" He asked as Hermione smiled politely at him as they got to the first-class landing,

"I'm fine for now Charles, go get some sleep" She replied with a smile as her eyes caught his name tag. He nodded his head with a small 'thank you' and walked away quickly. Y/n raised an eyebrow when Hermione looked back at her with a playful grin.

"What? It's their job to know who they're taking care of." Hermione hums as she begins to walk up another set of stairs to the first floor of rooms.

"You say you want to live a normal life, but I think you like the princess treatment that comes from the high end" Y/n chuckles as she follows closely behind, her eyes digging into the brunette's delicate back as it moved underneath the tight fabric of her dress.

"What woman doesn't like to feel like a princess?" Hermione chuckled as they walked down the very beautiful hallway, their arms brushing as they did.

Hermione pulled out a key from her coin purse as they stopped at an opening, the door read '13B' on a gold metal plating.

But before they walked in, Hermione's name was called again, they both looked to find Dolores Umbridge walking toward them with a smug smirk. At least she was alone this time.

"Oh hello, you two. Did you have fun with your...friend tonight, dear?" Umbridge seemed to struggle to say the word 'friend', but Hermione ignored it.

"Yes, we were just going to have a nightcap in my room before she heads back to third class" the young woman replied, which the nervous nature of Dolores seemed to fall. Obviously, she was very happy to hear that Y/n would be going back to her own kind soon.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, I might corner Madame McGonagall for a nightcap before she heads off to bed" Umbridge grinned as she fixed her dress with a few adjustments, Hermione just nodded politely at her statement.

"Y/n and I saw her playing Blackjack in the gambling hall," Hermione says, but it was a blatant lie, they hadn't even peeked into that room after dinner.

"Splendid! I'll go there right now before some pompous military General distracts her." she mumbles with a chuckle as she fixes her hair. If Y/n didn't know better, she would have thought Umbridge was dolling herself up for this McGonagall woman.

"Have a good night" the older woman says with a fake smile as she patted Y/n's shoulder apprehensively and walked towards the staircase.

Hermione's jaw clenched when Umbridge touched Y/n's shoulder, she almost slapped it away.

When they were left alone again, Hermione huffed angrily as she unlocked her cabin and stepped inside.

"God, that woman is so infuriating!" She grumbled as Y/n shut the door behind her and took in the much nicer single cabin.

"She seemed calmer without her group of hyenas around her" Y/n chuckled as Hermione sat on the couch with a small sigh, rubbing her temples.

"Madame Dolores is easily influenced by her husband's entitled friends...she isn't that bad when it's just us" Hermione whispered as she stood back up and poured two glasses of Brandy from the small tray of alcoholic beverages next to the porthole.

Y/n stood by the door and watched her with a small smile as Hermione's hair fell to the sides of her face.

"Hermione" Y/n whispers out as the young Heiress places the bottle down and looks at her softly as her pupils dilate as she looked at her.

"Yes?"

Y/n just smiled as she finally let herself be happy behind closed doors, and shut off the lights. The moonlight was dim but shined onto the side of Hermione's face from the porthole, her eyes were sultry as she chewed on her lip softly.

——————

1:56 A.M

Within moments, Y/n had closed the gap between them and kissed Hermione.

Their breath became one as they shared a passionate kiss, feeling as if their very souls were becoming intertwined. Their soft lips pressed together, savoring the taste of each other's mouth. Their arms wrapped around one another, pulling closer as they melted into the moment.

They moved in unison, their bodies molding to one another, and they lost themselves in the heat of the passion. Their hearts raced and their bodies throbbed, and in that moment, there was nothing else in the world except for each other. It was a moment of pure, unbridled joy and desire, a moment that would forever be remembered.

They couldn't hear the repeated use of fog whistles by their ship, or the echoing of a whistle from another boat. They were lost in the passion.

Hermione let her lips trail down to Y/n's neck as she clutched her shirt closer to her. She knew that Umbridge could burst in here unexpectedly, but she didn't care. Her Y/n had finally stopped running from her, and she wasn't going to let her leave this room that easily.

Hermione smiled when she felt Y/n push her onto the couch, and both felt the hungry stares they gave each other in the dark.

MINUTE ONE

Sadly, this was short-lived when the ship suddenly lurched to its side, a loud metallic groan rung out as Y/n slammed into the dresser and Hermione slipped on the couch and ran into the wall.

"What the fuck?" Y/n whispered as she quickly turned on the light, and hugged her side that had slammed into the furniture, the drinks had spilled onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" She asked as she limped over to Hermione who nodded and rubbed her shoulder.

"Yes, are you?" Hermione asks as she stands up, gently placing her hand on Y/n's side.

"Yeah, it just knocked the wind out of me" she gasps out softly as she tries to catch her breath. Hermione quickly put Y/n on the couch and fixed her hair out of instinct.

"I'll go see what's going on, stay here" Hermione whispered as she walked by the porthole, it was too foggy to see anything out onto the water, but it seemed like they weren't moving. She couldn't fully tell.

"I'm going to lay down" Y/n huffs softly as she lays on the couch, her breath slowly coming back.

Hermione looked at her a moment and walked back over, pressing a kiss to her forehead, something in her chest told her to do it.

"I'll be back, alright? Don't open the door for anyone." Hermione whispers as she looks back at Y/n with a small smile, she sees her cheeks glow like two roses in the morning sun, their beauty and softness illuminated by the light above them.

"Alright," Y/n whispered back as Hermione stood back up and made her way over to the door, locking it behind her as she stepped out into the hallway.

MINUTE TWO

A few other passengers were in the hallway as well, standing in their pajamas and nightgowns as they murmured amongst one another.

Some said 'it was probably nothing', while others continued to debate whether to go wake a steward or go back to bed.

Hermione quickly made her way down to the first-class lobby to find a few other passengers waiting for a steward to show up and explain what was happening.

Charles wasn't anywhere to be seen.

(A/N: Sad Fact, most of the stewards were asleep in their quarters, so they died almost immediately when the ship was hit. The impact was right where they were sleeping in the plow. So, Hermione unknowingly sent Charles to his death...poor fake steward I made up lol)

Hermione sighed softly as she looked out the window to see it still foggy but noticed a smaller coal boat awfully close to the ship. The Empress of Ireland wasn't moving, just like she thought. The other ship wasn't moving either.

MINUTE THREE

A minute went by waiting for a steward to explain to them what that sudden jerk was, but still, no one came.

MINUTE FOUR

Slowly but surely, Hermione and everyone in the lobby, felt a slight shift beneath their feet. The ship tilted slightly, the railings tilting at an ever-so-noticeable angle.

A steward finally barreled into the lobby, his face red, his breathing heavy, and loud. An older gentleman walked towards him to ask what was the matter, but more people ran into the lobby.

"Everyone! Please make your way to the lifeboats! Take a life jacket and pass it down!" A stewardess from third class yells as she grabs the jackets from a small closet nearby.

Hermione was stunned to hear those words and to see their panic. It wasn't until Dolores ran into the room and looked at Hermione, did she realized what was happening.

"Thank goodness you're awake, we have to go," Dolores says as she grasps Hermione's arm and tries to pull her away, but the young woman stands her ground.

"I have to get Y/n-" Dolores scoffed and dragged her forcefully towards the boats, Hermione hissed at the grip around her bicep.

"You and your fascination with that urchin! Trust me, rats like her know how to swim." she grumbles as Hermione is now being pushed towards the boats by scared passengers behind her.

She looked out to the water and saw the ship from before seemed a little farther away, the Empress of Ireland was slowly drifting away.

There weren't many people on the decks, which confused Hermione. There weren't a lot of first-class or second-class passengers, the ship was mostly filled with the third-class.

"Please, I must go warn-" Hermione started again but what cut off when the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness and complete silence.

MINUTE FIVE

A young child nearby started to cry as men shouted for women and children to get on the boats first, yet Hermione could barely see anything.

Did they hit a rock? Or did they get too close to land? Why was the ship sinking?

Where was Y/n? The lights turning off must of given her a reason to come investigate.

"Let me go" she whispered as she tried to wiggle out of Umbridge's grasp, whose nails seemed to dig deeper into her skin.

As their eyes adjust to the pitch-black darkness, Umbridge pulls her towards her face towards Hermione's once they get close enough to the boats.

"Do you have a death wish? The boat is sinking. Quickly. And all you can think about is that lowlife parasite? If I didn't know better, I would think you liked her more than a woman should about another lady." Umbridge whispers harshly as she squeezes Hermione's bicep with a warning.

Hermione glared back as she finally ripped her arm away, her chest puffed up in anger.

"And so what if I do? I'd rather die on this boat with her than live a life full of sorrow and regret like you do" she spat back as they scowled at one another, but Dolores chuckled darkly.

"I knew you would end up a dyke the moment I saw you with her...once you lay with dogs, you wake up with fleas" she states as she pushed Hermione away in disgust. The younger woman held her head up high as she walked away quickly. She pushed her way through the crowd as fast as she could.

MINUTE SIX

Hermione slipped from time to time as she quickly made her way back into the first-class lobby. The slight angle on the wooden floor made it hard to stay upright, and put didn't help that she could barely see anything.

"Y/n!" she calls out as she walks up the stairs, tripping a few times as she does, a loud metallic groan rumbles under her feet, causing Hermione to pause.

The sound of the ship groaning is an eerie and haunting noise as if a great beast is in pain or distress. The groaning is a deep, rumbling sound, accompanied by the loud creaking of the wood and metal of the ship as it is pushed to its limits. It is a mournful and desperate sound and one that can be difficult to ignore.

MINUTE SEVEN

Her heart thumped widely as she waited for the ship to quiet down. Suddenly a man rushed down past her, knocking her into the wall as he called out to his wife to 'hurry up'.

A woman rushed by her a few seconds after, carrying a crying baby on her hip as she tried to quickly run down the stairs.

Hermione let out a jagged breath as she ran up the stairs and into the pitch-black hallway. The angle had become steeper, almost un-walkable as she made her way to the door, that was now at the higher side of the incline.

"Y/n! The boat is sinking, we have to go!" Hermione yells as she goes to unlock the door, but finds it open. The Heiress held it open as she sort of climbed in with a huff, but soon found it empty.

"No...Y/n!" Hermione yells as she tumbles back into the hall, her eyes darting up and down the corridor.

MINUTE EIGHT

Hermione stumbled back towards the stairway, slowly making her back into the lobby. There were a few men escorting everyone towards the boats as they held onto any furniture that was nailed to the floor. The incline was getting worse.

The young woman walked over to the men and grabbed one shoulder, capturing his attention in the chaos.

"Have you seen a young woman my age? She has y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and is about this tall?" Hermione asks over all the yelling and crying as she holds her hand up to her lost lover's height.

"Ma'am I've seen multiple women like that. I'm sorry, but please get to a lifeboat as soon as possible. Save yourself." He says as he quickly jogged towards one of the boats, leaving Hermione to slowly spiral in her mind as she panicked.

What if she got into a boat already?

Hermione trudged her way towards the railing and squinted out into the water, there were five lifeboats already in the water, but she couldn't tell who was in them.

"Y/n!" The brunette yelled out into the night, but she couldn't hear over the crying and screaming of other passengers around her. Their voices echoed repeatedly against the water, but none of them sounded like the woman she was looking for.

She had a feeling those voices would haunt her, if she made it out alive...or maybe she'll be roaming the bottom of the river, still looking for her Y/n.

MINUTE NINE

Hermione saw another boat being haphazardly sent down by other passengers. Where was the crew? Why weren't they helping everyone?

(A/N: Most of the crew dipped like super early btw or died already)

She quickly pulled herself over to the men who were letting down the ropes, they struggled as their hands gripped the ropes.

Hermione peered down at the lifeboat, it swung slightly and bumped into the side of the ship. She scanned the heads desperately but saw no one matching Y/n.

Suddenly, a man with the ropes loses his grip, sending one side of the lifeboat smashing into the side of the ship. People screamed as they fell into the cold sea below, the other man couldn't hold the other end of the boat by himself. She could hear the rope burning his hands as it slipped through his grip.

No one could hold a ten-ton lifeboat, but it still horrified Hermione to see it cascade onto the people it was once carrying.

(A/N: Sad fact: the sixth lifeboat actually did capsize and fall on to people who fell in the water)

"Oh god!" a woman screams from beside her as it soon sinks under the water.

"Y/N!" Hermione yelled, terrified that she had missed her in that boat. Terrified that she just watched her die.

MINUTE TEN

The ship suddenly screamed and moaned with metal crunching behind its vocals as it began to tip onto its starboard side (right side).

(A/N: Fun fact this time: Captain Kendall was thrown off the bridge and into the water when the ship suddenly tipped and was pushed down further by the Empress when it crashed into the water. He survived tho!)

Hermione lost her footing but hung onto the railing as people fell into walls or through entrances onto the ship. People screamed and cried as the majestic Empress of Ireland side slammed into the water.

The ship cried in agony as Hermione hung from its railing, glass shattered somewhere below her feet as water started to pour into the halls and lobbies. She looked down a moment but saw nothing but endless unknown, her mind flickered back to Y/n for a second.

"The unknown? Doesn't that scare you?"

"No, because why should I be scared of something I don't understand? I'd rather take in its beauty while I'm unknowingly staring into my death."

Her thoughts were quickly snapped away when someone grabbed her wrists. A man stood on the port side (left side) of the ship and pulled her to safety, her eyes dilated as people crawled out of portholes or tried to at least. Some were just too small to fit through.

The man quickly ran to other portholes, maybe hoping to save someone else or to save himself. Hermione just froze for a moment, her mind trying to explain to her what just happened.

"Y/N!" Hermione yells out into the night as she stands on her feet, stumbling as she looks around her. The ship from before, the coal boat, floated nearby as the man yelled from its deck to come towards them.

"Hermione!"

MINUTE ELEVEN

Her eyes widened as she heard her name finally yelled back by the voice she thought was lost to the sea.

She looked around, it was too dark to see much of anything, but she soon heard banging against metal. It sounded desperate, and Hermione knew it was for her to follow.

"I'm here! Hermione!"

She looked behind her and saw a hand slamming against the side of the ship from a porthole.

"Y/n!" Hermione yelled as she ran over to the opening, her heart pounding as she fell to her knees and peered down into it.

There she was, her Y/n. Standing in the first class suite, and still smiling like a loveable fool.

"Where were you? We have to go!" Hermione says as she grabs Y/n's shirt and tries to get her to crawl through the porthole.

"I went looking for you after the lights went out, but I came back to your room when I couldn't find you. Then the boat tipped." Y/n says as she grasped Hermione's hand and looked at her longingly.

"We can talk later lovely, now come on!" Hermione says as she pulls her closer to the hole, but then realizes why Y/n wasn't in a hurry.

The porthole was too small.

They stared at each other, Y/n seemed content but sad. While Hermione looked absolutely destroyed.

"No...No. Get to another room, there's a bigger porthole just a few doors away!" Hermione says desperately as she points to another window.

"Hermione" Y/n calls out.

She looked back down at the girl, her eyes full of worry and fear. Yet, Y/n still looked calm.

"I can't swim"

A punch to the gut, that's what they say that feeling is like? It didn't fit with what Hermione felt when she heard those words.

To her, it seemed like the entire ship had been dropped onto her stomach.

It was silent between them as the terror around them seemed to fade out of their little bubble. Hermione lay on the side of the ship and got closer to her lover's face.

"It couldn't have filled that quickly, the ship isn't sinking anymore!" Hermione says as finally, a tear fell down her face.

(A/N: in its final few minutes, the ship was actually floating on its side as the rest of the open areas filled with water. A lot of people thought it had run aground.)

"Yes it is, you can feel it" Y/n whispers as she reaches up and places her hand on Hermione's cheek.

It was true, she could feel the vibrations of the ship as the water enveloped its body. It was haunting to feel and to realize that she was still in danger.

"Do you want anything while I'm in here? Dresses? Jewelry?" Y/n chuckled, trying to ease the tension just a little as she looked around the messed up room, water started to slowly trickle through the cracks of the door.

"You...that's what I want" Hermione whispers pleadingly as she grasps Y/n again, silently bargaining with God to save her.

She'd burn in hell if it meant she could get her out of here. It didn't matter if they never saw each other afterward. As long as her first love was alive.

MINUTE TWELVE

Y/n smiled sadly as she pulled herself up towards the porthole and peeked her head out. She saw another ship letting down its lifeboats.

"You have to get out of here, the ship is going to suck you down if you stay" Y/n says as she looked back at Hermione, whose tears fell effortlessly.

"Swim as fast as you can to a lifeboat, the water is going to be very cold, but you have to keep going" Y/n says as the door begins to creak with warning, it was going to burst soon.

Hermione didn't know what to say. How do you part with someone you have longed for over a year, and leave them to die?

"Goodbye Hermione, I love you" Y/n whispers as her eyes blur, her heart pounding as the ship groans again.

"I love you too"

The only words that Hermione had wanted to say since they kissed back in her apartment in Quebec. The only letters that mattered in this moment.

The brunette grabbed Y/n's shirt and pulled her towards the porthole. Her mind damning every higher power and karma that had let this happen.

They kissed for the final time, it was loving and passionate, and Hermione couldn't care less if some survivors decided to smear her name about it to a journalist.

One man did see, however, his face full of pity instead of disgust. It was the older gentleman who had taken their tickets, and his heart fell for them.

Life is cruel and unfair, but this was beyond the normal pain any human should be given. He wondered if God had better plans for them in the next life?

When they pulled away, tears fell like rain on a Sunday morning. It was soft and full of nurture.

"My love, take a deep breath once you're under the water...it'll only hurt for a moment" Hermione whispered in a choked-out sob, to which Y/n nodded.

It broke Hermione's soul to tell Y/n to inhale the water...like she was finally realizing that this was it.

She'll be gone from this life in a few minutes.

"I will...now go!" Y/n says as she pushes Hermione away, their eyes meeting one last time before the Heiress reluctantly runs towards the water.

MINUTE THIRTEEN

As she ran into the water, her hair stood on end. It was beyond freezing, and by the looks of the unmoving bodies that had jumped in much earlier than her, it was cold enough to take her life.

Hermione swam as hard as she could, getting as far away from the Empress as it continued to slip beneath the waves.

She could hear screams of people who were being sucked in by the vortex as it got stronger with each passing moment.

It took everything in her not to turn back and descend into the murky waters with Y/n, holding her hand as they spent their final moments together.

"Miss! Right here!" A man yells in front of her, he holds a lantern as he stands on the bow of a lifeboat.

Hermione's teeth chattered as she got closer to it, two sailors waiting to grab her by the edge as they seemed relieved to find more living people.

Once she got close enough, they quickly yanked her out of the water and covered her body with a blanket. She shook violently as water dripped from her hair and onto the floor of the lifeboat.

Two older women wrapped their arms around her to keep her warm as the men rowed them all towards the coal boat.

It was quiet as Hermione stared at the ship, her eyes glued on the porthole that held her lover prisoner.

Within seconds, she watched the water begin to spill into the opening, her hand covering her mouth as she began to cry again, the woman held her tightly.

This was it.

Soon enough, the ship disappeared below the water.

MINUTE FOURTEEN

2:10 A.M

"Sweet merciful God" the lad with the lantern whispers as the bow of the Empress of Ireland rose out of the water and screamed one last time before finally falling to the earth below the waters, where it would house its dead for years to come.

It was like a final 'goodbye' from everyone stuck inside, but it wasn't as comforting as one would hope.

The area fell silent, only hearing the occasional call out from nearby or the rowing of the man behind her.

"Fourteen minutes" a man behind Hermione whispers, to which she turns to him in surprise.

"W-What did you say?" She asked as the man looked at her with guilt. The others seemed to stare at him as well.

"The ship was gone within fourteen minutes."

Hermione gazed at him in disbelief. That couldn't be right. Fourteen minutes was long enough to sink a big ship like the Empress?

It felt so much longer.

The Titanic took a few hours! Granted it was a few hundred feet bigger than the Empress, but they should have had an hour at least!

"What happened?" Hermione whispers as she looks back at where the ship used to be. Her eyes were full of sorrow as she wondered how far down her everything had been taken.

The men seemed to tense as they got closer to the other ship, rowing right beside it as people started to call down to them.

Hermione looked up upon its side and read the name 'STORSTAD', but then noticed its mangled front. It looked as though it had come face-to-face with a mountain.

It didn't take long to realize what had happened, and when she did, she felt sick.

Hermione was soon brought on board, noticing that a few hundred crowded around the bow. There was only one boat left in the water, and that made her stomach twist unbearably.

There were a little under 1,500 people on that ship, and it now seems that over 1,000 souls have been lost or not found yet.

"God dammit" Hermione whispers as she walked towards the railing and stared at the area the ship had sank. Bubbles were still coming to the surface.

"Hermione? Is that you dear?"

The young girl turned to find Madame McGonagall staring at her with a sad smile. She slowly walked over to the cold railing and stood beside her.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly as she watched Hermonie begin to shake. It was obvious it wasn't from her damp clothes or the cold night air.

"No...No I'm not" she whispered as she cried softly to herself as the older woman placed a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione sobbed quietly as she let her mind come back to a calm state, her body no longer running on survival instincts.

"She must have been very special for you to cry over" Minerva whispers, to which Hermione looks up at her in shock, wiping away some tears that continued to fall.

"How?" Hermione whispers back, to which the older woman nods her head behind her.

Standing behind them, even in the darkness of the night, was a bright pink and purple-dressed woman.

Dolores had survived.

"What kind of God takes away so many people, but not that monster" She spits with venom as she pushes herself away from the railing and walks towards the smaller woman.

"Hermione!" Madame McGonagall calls as she follows close behind. People seemed to quickly move out of the young girl's warpath, almost like they knew what her anger was about.

When Dolores's eyes met the iron glare that was Hermione's, her smile dropped. An annoyed look took over her features as the two now stood toe to toe.

"Where is your little...friend?" Dolores asked, but she seemed to know the answer already as she began to smile.

"She didn't know how to swim" Hermione bit out in anger as her fists clenched into the fabric of her dress.

Dolores didn't look fazed by the fact that Y/n couldn't save herself, she looked quite pleased to be perfectly honest.

"Oh dear, that's too bad" she hums with a sinister smile, but soon McGonagall spoke up.

"Tell her the truth, Dolores. Tell her what you did" she states with a harsh whisper as people start to look at them and the interaction.

"What? What do you mean Minerva?" Hermione asks in confusion as she looks at her and then back at Dolores. Who now looked nervous instead of ignorant.

"I didn't know the ship was going to sink so quickly!" Dolores replied with her head held high as her eyes flickered between the two in front of her.

Hermione got in her face, eyes full of utter disgust and anger. People began whispering as they watched this unfold, wondering what was happening.

"What did you do." the young woman whispered.

Dolores kept her mouth shut, but her obvious gulp was enough to show that she was still very nervous.

"A young woman came up to her before we got on a boat, she was asking about you" McGonagall says which earns her a glare from Umbridge.

"Y/n...she said she had gone looking for me" Hermione whispers as she stares at the woman in horror.

"You...you sent her back to my room." she states as her breathing becomes irregular and she starts to see red.

"I thought you two would see-" Umbridge starts but McGonagall steps in.

"Don't lie. Even the Devil knows to tell the truth when caught" McGonagall says as she tries to pull Hermione away, but she doesn't budge.

Dolores stared into Hermione's eyes and took a breath. She licked her lips anxiously and finally admitted what she did.

"I told her I hadn't seen you when I have...that you were probably waiting back in your room when I knew you'd be searching on deck when you didn't find her" she whispers and Hermione looks at her in disbelief.

People began to murmur around them.

'She sent that girl to her death'

'What a monster'

Hermione continued to stare at her as the last lifeboat began to board onto the 'STORSTAD'.

"You killed her" the brunette muttered as her heart seemed to squeeze in her chest. She felt as though it would pop at any given moment.

Dolores tried to speak again, to possibly excuse her behavior, but Hermione didn't let her.

She slapped the older woman. Some gasped while others gave a satisfied hum at her action. Dolores touched her cheek and looked at her in disbelief.

"You murdered the love of my life...I will have you tried for your crimes!" Hermione grits out as she grasps the front of Umbridge's dress and begins to push her toward the railing.

"Hermione!" Minerva calls out a everyone began to whisper again.

'The love of her life?'

'If she throws her overboard, I'm turning a blind eye'

'Did she just say she was a queer?'

Hermione pushed her against the metal bar as Umbridge grasped her in desperation, afraid to fall into the murky water below.

"Please-"

"You don't deserve mercy!" Hermione yells as a tear falls from her hatred-filled glare. McGonagall grasps her shoulder and makes her look back at her.

"Killing her won't bring Y/n back, you know that" she states as her hand squeezed her shoulder.

Hermione contemplated her choices before letting her go in a huff and walking away. She tries to get as far as possible from the wench before she is hauled off to jail herself.

Hermione made her way onto the bridge of the ship, finding the Captain of the ship sitting down with his head in his hands.

His name tag read 'Captain Andersen'.

(A/N: actual name of the captain)

"Do you mind if I sit?" Hermione asked quietly as the man quickly looked up and nodded, giving her his seat, soon taking back the wheel from one of his men.

"Where is he!?" a voice yelled from somewhere on the bow, and a pair of footsteps ran up the stairs and into the bridge.

Captain Kendall stared at Captain Andersen in complete anger, just fists asking as he began to yell.

"You sank my ship!"

(A/N: that's what he actually said when he was brought on board)

Hermione sighed as she quickly walked out of the bridge and walked further down the ship. Wanting to finally be alone after such a spine-ripping experience.

She took a seat on a bench at the stern of the ship, letting the night whisk by as she looked up into the sky.

The stars.

They had been admired by the two only a few hours prior, before soon watching the same couple say goodbye to one another.

Hermione smiled sadly.

"You are right my love, they are beautiful"

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #angst #fluff

[julianalvarez9]

birthday boy / julian alvarez

authors note: this is for my little boy 🥹 prob shit ending cause i got distracted and didn't finish it on time and then lost motivation but :( wanted to post something for him

word count: 0.9k

summary: you plan a secret party for his birthday, with help from a few of his teammates (who didn't even knew that it was his birthday, in the first place)

julian and you had been together since your teenage years. you'd been with him through it all, on his good and bad days, but most importantly, when he had to leave argentina to live in manchester, where his new club was situated. moving to england had been hard for him: not only because of the language barrier, the weather and everything he missed from home, but mostly because of his friends and teammates back at river. julián was a very introverted person while getting to know people at first, not really the kind of person to start conversations with someone he doesn't know. he likes to stay back, watch from the sidelines and learn from the others.

though everything had changed since the world cup. being one of the strikers from the national team, an essential piece into the starting lineup once the initial shock of the loss against saudi arabia had passed, and key factor for the obtention of the trophy, he was put onto the spotlight and his talents were appreciated worldwide. still, he remained the same when he came back, only talking when necessary and almost every time, about what happened on the field. and because of that, almost no one at the club knew that today was his birthday.

even though you didn't mind throwing a party only for you two -his family had come with him to england, but due to a few family matters had to go back to argentina sooner than expected-, you knew that days like today only made him more homesick, missing his country and everything that was familiar.

julián had left for training earlier this morning, after eating a special breakfast in bed you had cooked for him, and that's when you started to work on his surprise party. you went to pick up the cake you had previously commissioned and a few party supplies that you were missing, like balloons and number candles that counted 23, to commemorate how many trips around the sun he had completed. you had told a few of his teammates to come by, mostly the ones that spoke his mother tongue, who he had connected the most during his stay at man city. ruben and rodri had assured you that they would kept the secret, while at the same time being the ones in charge of slowing him up a bit, to prevent him from coming home too early, before everything was set.

a few hours had passed, and you texted the guys that it was okay for your boyfriend to come home. dimming the lights, when he came back it seemed like you weren't home at first.

"¿amor? ¿estás en casa?" (love? are you home?), julian called, dropping his bag and shoes beside the door, his voice resonating on the walls of the seemingly empty house. you were finishing the last couple details, that's why it took you a bit longer to answer his questions. "¡acá!" (here!) you replied to him, him quickly directing his steps towards the living room, where your voice had traveled from. you heard him laugh when he entered the room, touching the wall to try and find the light switch. "¿por qué están las luces apagad-" (why are the lights off-?) he asked, not finishing the sentence due to the newfound surprise revealed once the lights were on again: his girlfriend and his teammates, who he had seen last not even an hour ago. "¡sorpresa!" (surprise!) you all exclaimed, and the smile that was painted on his face made you feel all warm inside.

"¿esto es para mí?" (is this for me?) he asked, still incredulous about it all. it hasn't like he hadn't had surprise parties before, but it seemed like you had definitely caught him by surprise this time. while he looked at the living room, all decorated with balloons and posters that had spiderman and the world cup in them, he greeted his mates with handshakes and pats on their backs.

"claramente es para el cumpleañero, ¿para quién más sería?" (of course it's for the birthday boy, who else would it be for?) you reassured, high-fiving ruben in the process because your plan had succeeded, and julian looked happy about it. "i can't believe you're all actually here!" he beamed, talking with his broken english so john, jack and phil, who had been dragged by the spanish and portuguese players, could understand. "i can't believe you weren't going to tell us that today is your birthday!", argued man city's number 5, face filled with fake annoyance at your boyfriend for keeping the information to himself. it was funny to see how flushed his cheeks got after hearing that, knowing that he was too shy to actually strike a conversation with the guys about something that wasn't football related.

"we would never reject a chance to have a cheat day" jack laughed, eating some chips that you had put on a few bowls for them to eat. "aparte, tu novia nos dijo que el pastel tendría dulce de leche, así que teníamos que venir" (also, your girlfriend told us your cake had dulce de leche, so we had to come) rodri joked, and even though half of the ones invited didn't understand what he had said, julian and you laughed.

you had been afraid that he wouldn't like the surprise, thinking that you had overstepped in a way, though he would never get mad at you for doing something nice for him. but after seeing his smile shining so brightly during the whole party, you were sure that he had actually liked it. and hopefully, after such a fun evening filled with laughter and food, you wished that he would feel a little less homesick too.

+ BONUS

yourusername

Liked by yourusername, philfoden and others.

yourusername feliz cumpleaños al mejor de todos 🥹te seguiría a el fin del mundo hasta que seamos viejitos 🤍 te amo juli (happy birthday to the best one there is 🥹 i'll follow you to the end of the world, until we're old 🤍 i love you juli)

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juliaanalvarez casa va a ser donde estés vos, gracias por hoy 🤍 (home is wherever you are, thanks for today 🤍)

yourusername 🥹🥹

philfoden you'll have to invite us more often 🙏🏻

juliaanalvarez 😆😆

yourusername consider it done!!

rubendias más dulce de leche y mate 🧉

yourusername rubendias consider it done too 😂

#better late than never i guess #julian alvarez x you #julian alvarez x reader #julian alvarez imagine #football imagine #football imagines #football instagram au #football x y/n #football x reader #football x you

[canirove]

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 29

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Masterlist

It's been almost three years since Declan and I broke up. 

At first we both were so heartbroken that it was easy to stay away from the other. It hurt too much. So we focused on our families and our jobs, on not having time to think about anything else. West Ham managed to stay in the Premier League, and despite England going home in the quarter finals, Declan was considered one of the best players of the tournament.

But then things got messy.

Mason and Roberta were still together, their relationship stronger than ever, and they wanted to keep seeing us both, to try and have something similar to what we used to. And because we are stupid and love them too much, we gave it a go.

We joined them at some parties and short holidays, and they all ended the same way: with Declan and I sleeping together and regretting it the next morning, making things even more tense and awkward than they already were. So at one point, I said it was enough.

"We can't keep doing this, Roberta. I'm sorry."

"But... But..." she pouted.

"We can't go back to the way things used to be, we are just hurting each other. And I don't want it to affect your relationship with Mason."

"I get it, but..."

"I'm sorry."

After that, I stopped going to parties where I knew Declan would be, and if I met Roberta and Mason for dinner or a short trip, it was just the three of us. And even though I was still attending England's games, I stopped visiting the changing room. I had enough with all the cameras pointing at me and following my every move when Declan was playing. I'm pretty sure that when we released the statement saying that there had been a relatioship but that it now was over, parties were thrown at many offices all around the country. Sadness and heartbreak sell better than happiness.

While Declan focused on his career, I decided to spend more time with my parents and Sophie, with my grandmother, with friends I had known my whole life and grew up with. And that meant spending more time with Charles. 

He became a shoulder I could cry on, a friend I could tell everything I was feeling, someone who would cheer me up every time I felt down. And somehow, that led to us getting back together. 

"Are you sure about this?" my mum asked when I shared the news.

"I don't know" I sighed. "But right now, it feels right."

And all that led us to the present, to waiting to start getting ready for tonight's Christmas Eve ball, the one where Charles will supposedly be proposing in front of all our friends and family members. A proposal that literally the whole country and half the world also knows about. 

"I still can't believe everyone knows" Sophie says. "Who told the press?"

"Who knows" I shrug. 

"Whoever it was, they totally ruined the surprise. Now you'll look even less excited."

"What?"

"C'mon, Ellie. I know that the idea of marrying Charles isn't keeping you awake at night. But that article about Declan dating that model..."

"They aren't dating, his team already denied it."

"Lucky her. Now she won't have to worry about having MI6 knocking on her front door" Sophie laughs.

"Whatever" I reply, rolling my eyes. 

"Eleanor" she says, taking my hand on hers. "I don't know why you keep going with this... lie. Both you and Declan. Despite everything, you still love each other. You've tried to move on, to forget the other. But you can't. He is the one, Eleanor."

"He isn't, Sophie. He..." I say, trying not to cry. Of course he is the one. And of course I still love him. I've tried to forget him, to move on, to somehow direct that love towards Charles... but it is impossible. 

Every time I see an article talking about girls he may be dating, even if they are just stupid rumours, I feel as if someone was crushing my heart. And the worst part is knowing that he feels the same. That when it was published that Charles and I were back together, it broke his heart. 

Mason told me that he would only leave the house to go training, that he didn't want to see anyone. And he played like shit that month, all the newspapers talking about it. "Looks like Rice isn't over the princess" they would joke on tv. It was disgusting, and it was all my fault, which made me feel ever worse. 

"Eleanor... If you aren't sure about Charles, don't marry him."

"As if it was that easy" I chuckle, wiping away a tear.

"It actually is. Just say no when he asks."

"I can't do that, Sophie. You know I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because... Because it must be him."

"Bullshit, Ellie. You should marry the man you love. And that man is out there definitely feeling like shit because the woman he loves is about to make the biggest mistake of her life."

"Are you ready, girls? The hair and makeup team is... Eleanor, are you alright?" my mother asks, walking into the room.

"I am, yeah."

"You are crying."

"No, no. I just..."

"She got a bit emotional because we were talking about Christmas when we were kids" Sophie quickly says.

"I see... Ellie, why don't you go to the bathroom and refresh yourself a bit, uh?"

"Yes, that'll be the best" I say as I leave, Sophie's words being repeated over and over in my head. 

Despite everything, you still love each other. 

He is the one, Eleanor. 

The woman he loves is about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

[p0isonyouth]

hi sweet!! hope you’re having the most wonderful day! if there’s any room in your requests, I was wondering if I could request a letter from Spencer Reid? if I missed an announcement that these requests are closed now, please ignore this and accept my sincere apologies!! ♡

if you are still accepting requests, though, here’s some information you might need:

my name is Heather, I’m 5ft tall (so my head is level with Spencer’s chest BARELY and that’s not something I can think about at this time) with light blue, long wavy hair, grey eyes, I’m British a total film nerd. Doctor Who is my favourite show, The Terminator is my favourite movie - I have the script memorised and I’m not joking when I say that’s basically the only thing I can reliably remember, memory issues caused by trauma are, very much, unslay! due to what I went through during my childhood, I come across as a very bubbly, ditzy girl now and I take great pride in that, since I never had the freedom to enjoy life in such a way before, and I take being called a ‘silly girl’ as a genuine compliment :) I’m always excited about something, super easily distracted, very expressive, and empathetic to a fault - I can and will form sentimental attachments to inanimate objects and there’s not a force on Earth strong enough to stop me. a chair missing a leg? my son. I’ll take care of him. how much is that chair in the window. I’m also fiercely protective of everyone I care about and if I witnessed someone so much as giving Spencer a funny look I’d probably commit a small act of arson :)

for the letter itself, I was thinking maybe I’m part of the BAU but am on holiday and have returned to England to spend time with my family, so Spencer being the old-fashioned gentleman is all “I’m going to write my mutually-pining-best-friend a letter and post it across the sea instead of text her :)” - what do you think?

the only thing I would ask you please don’t mention is my biological father being involved in anything related to me spending time with my family, because he wouldn’t be.

anyway, so sorry for such a long message! thank you so much for reading it, I hope you have the loveliest rest of your day and that you find plenty that makes you smile today!! take care sweet ♡

Dear Heather,

Thank you for the prompt! I hope you have a lovely day as well and enjoy the read!

Sincerely,

Alyssa

Dear Heather,

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm writing you this letter, sending it all the way across the seas instead of sending you a text. it's just, some things are better said handwritten then in an electronic message.

How's England treating you? Say hello to your family for me, I'll try to go on the trip with you next time, it's just that Hotch didn't want two BAU agents out at the same time. I'm sure that we can convince him one way or another.

Back to my cryptic message above that I'm sure you're wondering about, my silly girl. I wanted to tell you this before you left, but I believe that writing it in a letter could possibly save me from some humiliation of rejection. I just can't stop thinking of you, Heather.

I promised myself that I wouldn't get too attached again with someone, in fear that they will leave or worse. But you've been by my side through all of it, and I couldn't be more thankful. With everything that has happened with Gideon, Maeve, JJ, and everything else, you're just there. I can't deny that I've always felt something for you, but I pushed it down because you matter too much to lose you over some feelings that are most likely one-sided.

Everything about you is simply mesmerizing, it's even too much to describe in words. Your laugh keeps my heart beating, your ability to memorize every line of the Terminator, the warmth of your body pressed to mine after a case. Every decision I make, I think about how it will affect you, I always have.

So, in case this letter gets lost at sea, I'm writing this down to tell you, Heather, my best friend, that I have feelings for you. And hopefully, you feel the same.

Meet me at our spot when you return home? We can talk about this in person.

All my love,

Dr. Spencer Reid

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencerreid #wattpad #imagines #fluff #dear reader

[pvffinsdaisies]

For the ask game: 4, 14, 24, 34, 44, 54, 64, 74

ask game

AHHHHHH ANSKI ILYSMMMMMM FOR SENDING IN SO MANY 😭😭😭😭 but pls is them all ending in four a coincidence or intentional?!

4. Which of the two listens to older music and which one is more into the newer stuff?

Ahh, okay, well I only have a playlist made for Norway currently. So I can’t really use that as a reference. Them both being nations, I think they both listen to a fair share of older stuff, I don’t any nation- besides maybe someone like Hong Kong- would exclusively listen to newer songs. I will say, I think Scotland has a bias for songs from the 90s through to the noughties. I feel like Scotland is the one who potentially doesn’t branch out to newer music as much either, though he isn’t exclusively listening to songs from any time period. I’ll say Scotland for older and Norway for newer, but again, I think they’re both kinda a mix, and there are definitely songs in Norway’s playlist that are from before the 90s. Likewise, there might be songs on Scotland’s playlist from current years.

14. Who gets the most invested in their hyper-fixations?

My say would probably be norway, I think Scotland is potentially better at managing having multiple hobbies. Whereas Norway strikes me as a person who picks up a new hobby, and goes all in, if he’s thinking about picking up a new sport he’ll get all the recommended equipment before even actually giving the sport a try. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Norway would hyperfixate to the level of someone like Sweden, but Scotland just seems more laid back in his interests than Norway does, to me at least.

24. Who gets a little too invested in board games?

They both do, depending on who they’re playing against! They’re both extremely competitive against different people. Norway is more competitive against Denmark, and especially Sweden, but besides that he’s pretty chill? Norway doesn’t want to win, he just wants to beat Sweden. Likewise, Scotland feels the exact same way about England, there is no way in hell Scotland will ever let England win any competition between them, but if he’s playing against any of his other siblings, he really isn’t going to care that much. He may actually cheer Ireland on! However, all this being said, as a person, Scotland is much more passionate than Norway is, just in general. As well as a lot more reactive, so I lean to think, in a 1v1 game between the two of them, Scotland is more likely to get carried away with it.

34. Who is more sceptical of the two?

Scotland. I feel like Norway seems like he should be the answer, but Norway is Nordic, and the nordics just in general are places with a pretty high sense of trust. If you tell Norway you will do something, you’ll help him out with something, Norway is going to be more inclined to believe you. Ultimately, I think Norway is a type of person to believe people are inherently good, and some people just lose their way. Whilst, Scotland is more friendly and welcoming of new people, but he’s also better at reading people’s facial expressions, so if someone isn’t being completely honest, Scotland is more likely to pick up on it. Scotland is more likely to deep dive into someone’s intentions. This isn’t to say that Scotland cannot trust anyone, that’s not the case, and it’s not to say that Norway is completely tone deaf and incapable of reading social cues. But ultimately, I think Norway is more prone to see the good in people, whilst Scotland is far less likely to do that.

44. Who would confess their love first?

This is a question that will always trip me up 🫠 but I think Scotland, solely because Scotland is far more open with his feelings in general than Norway is. Scotland, to some extent, wears his heart on his sleeve. You can see every emotion that scotland feels very clearly on his face, if he’s upset he’s gonna scowl and if he’s happy he has a wide smile on his face. He’s also very verbal about how he’s feeling, sometimes maybe too much so. Whereas we know Norway is a lot more reserved, he has a permanent poker face and probably isn’t even the best at recognising his feelings and differentiating some feelings from others. I think it stands to reason, Scotland would be the first to confess.

54. Who’s the most likely to get stage fright?

Easily Norway! Scotland, I think, was almost born to be an entertainer, and maybe even performer. He has a natural gift for comedy, natural charisma, and is very charming. He’s comfortable striking up a conversation with just about anyone. Norway is a lot more shy. He tends to keep to himself a lot more, he’s extremely uncomfortable meeting and talking to new comfortable, even just someone sitting next to him on public transport can be enough to make him feel nervous. Norway is nowhere near a cowering wreck, and he’s extremely good as masking his discomfort, but generally he won’t become talkative around just 1 new person until after a few months, maybe even a year or longer of talking to them. So, I don’t think he would manage speaking on a stage, in front of anyone or everyone. I don’t think he’d manage to sing. I don’t think he’d manage to do much at all without feeling incredibly shy. He’d push through, though.

64. Who starts gearing up for Christmas first?

Uhm. Heavily depends. I don’t think Norway will process that it’s time to start getting ready for Christmas- or Yule- until after Finland’s birthday. After the 6th of December. Give a few days to fly back home too. However, I do think, once he starts feeling Christmassy, he does very much lean into it. The bright decorations and cheesy, cheery spirit of the holiday is a huge help for him during the very cold and dark Norwegian winter. Christmas for Scotland starts after he’s seen two things: 1, Aldi’s new Kevin the Carrot advertisement, and 2, the iconic irn bru snowman advertisement. I will say, Kevin the Carrot adverts do tend to start showing in November, but I cannot speak for the irn bru advertisement. But Scotland will refuse to start feeling Christmassy until he has seen the both of them!

74. Who’d be able to not talk for the longest?

Norway. Scotland try and shut up for more than 10 minutes challenge.

#hetalia #aph norway #aph scotland #scotnor #ahhh tysm again #this was so much fun! #I applaud anyone who read all of that.

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Lust Conquers All: A Holiday Romcom (Jamie Tartt x Reader) Part 1

       “Y/N, I need you to cover the Diwata sports line in London.”

        Never have more shocking and exciting news been uttered by my boss. Ever since my sophomore year of high school, I’ve been dying to study abroad in Europe. Unfortunately it never came into fruition, with living expenses being a thing to consider.

        “I thought Jana was going,” I say in shock.

        “Jana needs to handle the clothing line’s main launch in New York. You’ll be there about a month or so. I hope you don’t mind spending the holidays there if you have to.”

        “Yeah, no, for sure,” I say. I usually spend Christmas alone anyway, in front of a Netflix Christmas romcom. Year by year they were getting worse. More soulless. More going through the motions. But ever since I adopted my son Tristan I haven’t been so lonely. Especially since he has friends over a lot. He’s introduced me to a lot of new things, such as Naruto, “cracked” being a compliment, and hilarious kids’ graphic novels.

        Any normal 24-year-old would probably feel constrained by the responsibilities of having a 10 year old son, but I want to use my newfound wealth to provide for someone that I love, and give him a good life. Our house has a pool in the backyard like I’ve always wanted for myself, and come fall it will have a trampoline. It has not one but TWO cushy basements for playdates. And the kitchen has- get this- an island. I know!!! Only rich people have islands, and whenever he does his homework at it, I know how grateful he is.

        My wonderful son has jet black hair with a constantly shifting top layer, color-wise- right now it’s platinum but he’s been wanting purple since Halloween. He has a heart-shaped face, perceptive brown eyes, and the sweetest angel smile. I only had to experience his energy and zest for life, as well as the taste of a picky book critic with good taste, to know that I would be a great parent for him. We’re very attuned to each other’s feelings, so I let him delay homework for fifteen minutes to think by himself after an upsetting day because he needs it, and he tries his best not to use sarcasm with me unless I can tell. And even though he has beautiful tanned Mediterranean skin from being half- Italian, he has not one drop of Filipino blood.

        Is it awkward when people don’t immediately think we’re related? Kinda. I always wear my Hermes Birkin, my Cartier jewelry, my pink lace Burberry trench when I take him to the Asian grocery store or to the trampoline park with his friends. It keeps people guessing. It might not scream, “this kid that looks nothing like me is my son!!!” but it does scream, “I’m not this kid’s nanny cause I can afford all these! At the same time!!!”

                                                       ~

        “It’s okay,” Tristan says after I break the London news to him. He helps chop vegetables I hope he’ll eat for dinner.

        “Really?” I ask. “But you’ve been practicing for your band concert for months…”

        “Yeah, but this is ENGLAND,” he points out. “Can we see a Manchester United game?” He slides the cutting board over to me, and I slide them into the soup.

        “Maybe during the weekend,” I say. “People go to France during weekends too. So it’s definitely possible.”

        “Jeremy’s going to miss me,” he declares. “I’m his best friend and he’s never hung out with the guys without me.”

        “You should make sure they bond more before you go,” I suggest. “Invite them over for We Were Never Really Strangers: Kids Edition.”

        “We do like card games,” he muses thoughtfully. “We were playing mini Uno the other day and half the window side joined until we had to go to lunch.”

        “There you go,” I say. “I’ll be working with a soccer team for the campaign- maybe you know them…UFC Richmond?”

        He shrugs. “I guess. Man U’s still my favorite, though.”

                                                                ~

        Plane rides always gave me this feeling of purpose- of life moving ahead, because you were going somewhere. After this trip, I would be one step closer to being promoted to CMO. Then my son and I can live even more lavishly, and I can take him and one friend (he’ll probably pick Jeremy) to Bora Bora, possibly with an au pair, so I can also have relaxing spa days, sun worship in ray warmed water, and go to karaoke, and I know they’ll be safe.

        As Tristan snoozes comfortably in his cushy first class seat next to mine, I flip through one of the London travel magazines to rest my eyes from Sense and Sensibility with Dakota Johnson- I love the blonde and people should have more respect for her feelings- her sister????) There’s a photo of Big Ben towering in the evening sky, surrounded by twinkling city lights. I wonder if you can see London from up in the sky like you could see New York.

        On the next page, there’s an ad featuring a manspreading guy against a white background that I’m pretty sure is fully naked, except for a gigantic champagne bottle covering his crotch area. The liquid from the bottle fizzes out, covering the surrounding areas too, so I can only see from very well-cut abs up and toned thighs down.

        Damn. I knew France was mega-horny about ads sometimes- a lot of the time- but England? I’d always thought they were more on the conservative side. Mostly from teen romcoms in which the wild, free-spirited, quirky American girl sticks out in…government functions and/or a strict boarding school. Maybe I should update my references. Sex Education literally had a vagina musical. I watched it after my son went to sleep, along with every other steamy show I like.

        And speaking of steam...I can’t remember the last time I flirted with a hot guy. Maybe this month I’ll meet someone and have a holiday fling…I shake off the thought. I’ll be too busy running a marketing campaign, not to mention getting my kid adjusted to a whole new country. Speaking of which, if London has a Filipinotown or Little Manila, I’m so taking him. Wouldn’t it be so cool to have these castle-like structures have our flag or our words or Baybain on the awnings?

        I study the picture again. Or it could be a good place for a date. I probably won’t meet a guy like this. He’s probably a male model or something. My agency really wants the players themselves to model for authenticity and…ethos. This guy has a slit in his right eyebrow that I could take or leave, and eyes that look not traditionally seductive. Though he’s splayed naked, the look in his eyes is brash, challenging, aggressive. As if he dares you to come for him (in more ways than one.)

        Yeah, I could really use some hot, no strings attached sex. I don’t think my personality will morph into one where I’m comfortable chatting up strangers in clubs (surrounded by people they already know) but maybe I’ll have one of those meet cutes I always see in romcoms. Maybe I’ll ask people at the London office about cool, non-touristy places to go. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the ad. I take a pic of it on my phone. Maybe my coworkers used him in their ads too and can do so again this month, and I can “randomly” stop by.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

[asakikulove]

Asakiku headcanons

I reblogged an ask game for ships several days ago, and since nobody asked me, I’m going to give my headcanons anyways. Ask game here. Part 1/2

What’s their love language?

Touch. Not like anything big, but holding hands, little kisses on the cheek or forehead, lying on the other person’s lap. These things are really what holds the two together. They’re not big on pda though, so it’s mostly done privately. 

Do they have a dynamic trope?

Depends on the situation/AU. In canonverse, I could see them as being lovers to enemies to lovers. They’re also a light hair-dark hair pair. 

Who cooks? Who cleans up? Who’s banned from the kitchen?

Japan cooks, England cleans. It’s a pretty good system that works for them. England sometimes cooks, but only when Japan is cooking with him. England is banned from cooking alone. 

What’s their favorite sleeping/cuddling positions

Japan is usually the little spoon, and they cuddle like that. When they sleep, they’re the couple who falls asleep looking at each other so when they wake up, the first thing they see is each other

Who does what chores?

Japan is rather homey, so he likes doing the general cleaning and cooking, however, if it comes to fixing something England will usually do it (like changing light bulbs or fixing a shelf). They do their own laundry and they do the shopping together. 

Do they go out often or prefer to stay indoors?

A little of both. Mornings they often have a morning walk together, then they head home for a bit. Usually evenings are spent inside, both doing their own thing while in the same room. 

Who is the more romantic one?

Now you’d assume that it would be England, but England is just more public about it. Japan will do things like make England a bento for lunch and write a little note in it for him to read midday, or will dry his hair after it rains. England is more public, so he’ll send flowers to Japan or will be the one who arranges for a nice date at a fancy restaurant. 

Do they have any favorite activities that they do together?

Morning walks, drinking tea (They have their own tea, England prefers black tea and Japan prefers green or herbal), Going shopping together, reading, doing puzzles together. Little things that they are allowed to come and go from. They usually don’t, but it’s the freedom to choose that they enjoy. 

Baths or Showers together? Do they like elaborate ones with bubbles and flower petals?

Baths. Japan can’t live without them, and England finds them enjoyable. They don’t have to be fancy, just warm. Sometimes they’ll sit in the hot springs together too. 

Who drives and who picks out the music

They both enjoy driving, so they take turns. Japan thinks England’s music is a little too loud, and England thinks Japan’s music makes him sleepy. They somehow manage

What’s a song that describes their relationship? Or what’s the song they’ve deemed their song?

English song: I do (Cherish you) by Mark Wills

Japanese Song: ashita boku wa kimi ni ai ni iku by Wakaba (I apologize if you don’t like my music taste. That’s fair) 

Who gets up the earliest? Who has the worst sleep schedule? Who is the sleepiest?

They both get up really early in the morning, like 5:30-6:00 every day. They take turns having bad sleep schedules, some days it’s Japan, some it’s England. I’d say it depends on the day as to who’s sleepier. 

What’s their opinions on PDA

Usually it’s a no, and hand holding is as far as they’ll go, if that. However, if one of them gets jealous for some reason, a little bit of PDA is okay. It’s not anything like making out or anything, but a subtle hand hold, a kiss on the cheek, a hug. Little things like that. 

Who does fashion shows after a mall trip and who compliments them

Neither. Please get these two some new clothes! These two insist that their clothes are fine as is, even if it makes them old and outdated. England does like feeling fancy sometimes though, depending on his mood. 

Do they go on vacations together? Where is their favorite place to visit?

They like going to historical places together, and they love visiting museums. Their favorite place is probably some cliche tourist trap. 

#Asakiku #Iggypan #Engpan #Headcanons #Hws England #Hws Japan #hws asakiku #aph asakiku #aph england #aph japan #Long post #Hetalia

[recallthename]

Hey, hello! I'm sorry if you've answered this question to others before, but in case you read fanfiction, can you recommend me some? I was reading until recently ''Carry That Weight'' by waveofahand (and then its continuation ''Hello, Goodbye''), and it was long and exciting but I reached its last written chapter and I'm sad. I decided to ask you, because you like Paul, me too, and maybe you'd know some good Paul focused (though they don't have to be entirely) or at least Paul-respecting fics. They can be Mclennon of course. I love them angsty... but I'd be curious to check any recs.

i do read fic! i'm pretty picky about it though, so i don't feel like i have that much. but i'm always happy to rec!  especially cause it seems like we have similar tastes.

first off, there are two wips i'm reading that i am deeply into. which is saying something since i normally stridently avoid wips.  these do both still have chapters regularly coming out, so i feel confident reccing them (which i wouldn’t if they seem abandoned)

Going Nowhere by inspiteallthedanger - When Paul gets the news, he rushes out to New York and ends up bringing an injured John back to England. Once there, they try and figure out how to find their way back to one another. A post-1980 fix-it that includes flashbacks to some major moments in their past and an exploration of where John and Paul might have ended up if John had lived.

(It's Just) Another Day by obstinatrix - Cavendish, 1974; The stars, it seems, have aligned: the rare weekend has arisen upon which both Ringo and the McCartneys will be in London at the same time. This is lucky, because Paul has something to tell Ringo — something nobody’s sure how John would react to if he were ever to find out. Or: they’re lesbians, Harold. Eventual John/Paul with lots of other stuff along the way.

the rest are all completed fics.  i also tried to only include longer ones.  partially because they’re my preference and partially cause i’m more likely to remember them well lol.  maybe some day i’ll make a proper Long Post with every bookmark i have on ao3.

The Wild And Windy Night by tikk - 26k words - After the Beatles split, John and Paul's relationship deteriorates hard and fast. John grows more and more reckless, and Paul doesn't know how to reach him. Until suddenly Paul is broken apart, just as John starts to pull himself together.  if you read nothing else i rec, read this one.  probably my favorite in the fandom, i still think about it all the time even though it was one of the first i read.

Throw The Wine by savageandwise - 51k words - "But you realise that you're in real life, and you don't split up a beautiful thing with a beautiful thing." -Paul McCartney Or do you?

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards - 27k words - John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be

metered by fingersfallingupwards - 44k words - "The bloke said something just the same as you did, about floating off unless tied down, or maybe it was the other way around, getting tied down to float off, y'know.”- OR: Canon-era John and Paul haphazardly invent BDSM, and learn a few things about power, surrender, pleasure, and themselves along the way

You're a Dream Lover by thisbirdhadflown - 44k words - "John had once mused that reality leaves a lot to the imagination. Christ, don’t they know it. But what you don’t dare do in real life and what you don’t dare imagine leaves what you dream. It’s the closest thing to truth he’s ever had. And then there’s John, reigning above everything. Emperor of Eternity." Paul and John start sharing lucid dreams together in the summer of 1967.

We'll Always Have Paris by bunnoculars - 22k words - John and Paul go to Paris. Part 1 is set during their trip over John's birthday in 1961, and Part 2 is set during their residency at Olympia Theatre in 1964. The last part would've been set during their impromptu visit in 1966, but I have no plans to write it.

if you’re a paul fan and not a strident mclennon, i recommend checking out what (unfortunately little) there is of paul/omc on ao3.  there are a few great ones with robert fraser, downtothelastdrop seems determined to hook him up with everyone and i’m obsessed with it.  also i’m not 100% if my privacy is open (i think so?) but here’s my ao3 bookmarks, which has all of the shorter/incomplete wips i’ve loved that i neglected to list here.  again i will probably actually make a rec list on tumblr eventually, but just for in the mean time.

hope you find some stuff you like!

#len-gthwise #kat reads fic #brb gonna reread the wild and windy night again and cry #also if obstinatrix and/or inspiteallthedanger feel like updating soon i would be very pleased lol #i say as if going nowhere didn't literally just update haha #i'm just not built for wips!!! #also literally always feel free to send me asks like this #or just asks in general #even if i had talked about this before i promise i want to talk about it again lol #the nature of a hyperfixation

[helenadelacoeur]

Fred x reader

Rome, Spring 2023. Though some of the winter cold clings to the still leafless trees, it is the first day people dare walk about without a jacket. Summer is hanging in the air.

You are standing on top of the Spanish Steps, your jacket in your arms, and your backpack containing most of your belongings on your back, overlooking the Eternal City. It was there that you first saw him, even though you didn't really pay him much attention. He's a handsome stranger smiling at you; you don’t respond and instead return your attention to the city at your feet. It is a view that never bores, but after a couple of minutes, you take a seat to eat a left-over croissant from breakfast and write down some notes in your notebook. Together with your toiletries and clothing – and your car, which is waiting for you at the hostel where you spend your nights, it is the only thing you have brought with you. Your phone is in your pocket, but it is off, and you only turn it on twice a week to let your family know that you are still doing okay.

Once you leave Rome, you’ll have to navigate Europe by map. It is not something you are used to, and you know you are bound to get lost. Given the reason you fled your hometown, this only seems fitting.

After you have closed your notebook, you walk down the now familiar stairs, past the fontains. Your feet automatically bring you to your favourite place, Caffè Greco, to get your afternoon coffee. It is the oldest café in town, where artists and writers have always come. For the last couple of weeks, you have followed in their footsteps and sat down there to work on your book, despite the expansive coffee.

As you are looking through your notes, working on your opening paragraph for chapter one, you hear a soft cough. ‘Excuse me?’ someone asks you in English. ‘Is this seat free?’

You look up and see a man about your own age with red hair and a big grin. You smile back and nod, before you realize that you know him from somewhere. He thanks you and sits down. ‘I am Fred,’ he says. His eyes fall on your notebook. ‘What are you writing?’

‘I am making notes on my trip. On what I have seen today.’

‘You are a tourist?’ he asks you. ‘Where from?’

‘I am from Italy. But from the south. Sicily.’ You smile. ‘You sound like you’re from England.’

He grins. ‘Guilty. I am here for business, but I decided to mix in some pleasure as well. You can’t visit Rome without at least seeing some of the city.’

A waitress approaches, and he looks at your drink before ordering the same.

‘I am more of a tea drinker,’ he says, once the waitress has walked away. ‘So for coffee, I am willing to follow the Italians.’

You laugh. Something about his grin is very contagious, and you decide that you like him.

‘What brings you here?’ he asks, looking genuinely interested in your answer.

‘It is cliché,’ you start. ‘But I writing a book.’ You tap on your notebook.

‘That is impressive,’ he says. ‘What is it about?’

‘I am going to…  You stop, choosing your words carefully. ‘I am going to travel around Europe, and I want to write about the cities, the culture… I want people to feel as if they have really been there, by just reading my book.’ You smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ‘That’s what I am trying, at least.’

‘Wow,’ he says. The waitress arrives and puts his coffee in front of him, and he thanks her with a very accented ‘grazie mille’.

‘It sounds like an amazing idea,’ he continues. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I want every chapter to be a different city, but I am not entirely sure where I want to go. I want to be surprised, might go to places I have never heard of. It’s not just in the big cities where you can find the real soul.’

‘Sometimes it’s a good thing, getting lost,’ he agrees.

He takes a sip of his coffee and, for a very brief second, you can tell that he does not like the taste. Very quickly, he regains his composure. ‘Strong coffee,’ he says. He puts the cup in front of him again. ‘Are you planning on visiting the UK?’

‘No,’ you have to admit. ‘I am travelling by car, and I am terrified of driving on the wrong side of the road.’

‘The wrong side of the road?’ He pretends to not understand what you mean.

You laugh. ‘Yes. It is the wrong side of the road, you can’t convince me otherwise. And it got more difficult, with Brexit and all that, to get into the country. I don’t have a passport. But I have been to Scotland before, years ago. My older sister went on an exchange there, in Aberdeen.’

He nods. ‘Did you like it there?’

‘I did. I really want to go back there one day.’

‘Did you learn to speak English over there?’

You shake your head. ‘I was only there for a couple of days. But I did my exchange in Spain, and I took some courses in English over there. Most of my friends also couldn’t speak Italian, so that helped.’

‘You speak well,’ he says. ‘Was it a language exchange?’

‘No – I followed courses in Spanish history and art.’ You take a sip of your coffee, which is getting cold. ‘Very interesting,’ you add.

‘You were a student?’

‘Yes. My major was art history, but I took a lot of history courses as well.’ You smile. ‘That’s also why I am excited to travel around Europe. It’s not just going to be a travel book but also about history and art. So I have a good reason to visit all the museums out there.’

He takes another, very small, sip of his coffee. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘Three weeks! You must have seen most museums by now.’

‘Most of them,’ you admit. ‘And many of the churches too.’

‘You like architecture too?’

‘I like all the older art.’

He smiles. ‘How old?’

‘Depends on where you are. Italian art from the 16th century, Dutch and Flemish art from the 17th, French from the 18th and Russian from the 19th. And churches from the Middle Ages.’

‘I have to admit I don’t know that much about mug… about art in general.’ He has a thoughtful look on his face as he takes another sip.

‘Let me drink that,’ you offer. ‘I’ll pay for it. You can get something a little less strong.’

‘Is it that obvious?’ he asks.

You both grin.

‘I have a better proposition,’ he says. He leans towards you. ‘You can have this coffee – and I’ll get both of us the amazing cake the table next to us is having.’

You look at the couple next to you. ‘You mean the tiramisu?’

‘Is that what it is called?’ He shrugs. ‘It looks amazing. But, as payment, you have to give me a tour of something I really have to visit before I leave.’

‘That is very kind,’ you say, not wanting to accept a gift from someone who is essentially a stranger – a kind stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. But you stop yourself. He might be a stranger, you think, but he is friendly and handsome – and besides, it is a busy city, in the middle of the day. ‘I think I can give you a small tour,’ you say. ‘But I have promised my mom I would call her at nine, so I have to be home before then.’

It is a lie, of course, but it will help you get away in case Fred turns out to be not as nice as he seems.

‘Deal,’ he says immediately.

~~

Fred told you that he likes surprises, so you keep it a secret where you are going as he follows you through the city center.

‘What is your business about?’ you ask him, as you walk past a group of German tourists following a tour guide.

‘I have a gift shop,’ he says. ‘In London, with very… exclusive gifts. So now I am travelling around to get some ingredients. And gifts.’

‘What kind of gifts?’

‘Doesn’t matter, as long as it is something special and unique.’

‘That sounds like an amazing job,’ you say. ‘You must visit a lot of great places.’

‘I do,’ he admits. ‘But I am afraid that I am not much of a writer, so I can’t really share my adventures with the world.’

‘You can share your photos,’ you say. ‘Don’t you have Instagram?’

‘What?’

‘Instagram,’ you repeat. ‘It would be cool to see all the stores where you find your gifts.’

When you look at him, you can tell he is confused. ‘I have to admit that I don’t know what Instagram is.’

You laugh, but after a few seconds, you realise he is serious. ‘You don’t know Instagram?’ you ask him. ‘Where have you been hiding for the last decade?’

‘I am afraid that I stay away from most modern stuff.’

You are still not sure if he is making fun of you, but he seems sincere. ‘I will look into it,’ he adds.

‘I can’t believe you have never heard of Instagram.’ Part of you still thinks he’s just joking, but you decide to drop it. Perhaps it is for the best. You try to stay away from the internet anyway—as much as possible, at least.

‘We are now walking to the church of Sant’Ignazio,’ you tell him. ‘It is very close to the Pantheon, so if you want to visit that as well, we can go there. But it is also on the way to the Forum Romanum and you have to go there.’

‘Then I will. I fully trust in your good taste,’ he says.

For Roman standards, it is quiet in the church.  You look at the beautiful building and tell him that you love the ceilings.

You wander around for a while, describing what he is seeing in a hushed voice, until you arrive at your favourite part.

‘What do you think about the dome?’ you ask him.

‘It is beautiful,’ he says, after giving it a look.

‘Look closer.’

He follows your command and lays his head on his neck. ‘Beautiful,’ is his judgement.

‘Still closer.’

He sends you a puzzled look, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing – a sound you quickly smother with your hand. ‘It is not a dome,’ you tell him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It is a trompe d’oeil, a trick. It’s flat, the ceiling—there has never been a dome.’

He looks at the ceiling again. ‘No,’ he says, unconvinced. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘It is! If you go outside, you can tell.’

Outside, Fred looks at the flat roof. ‘Unbelievable,’ he says. ‘It’s like magic.’

‘It does feel like it, doesn’t it? There was supposed to be a dome, but there was no money. So one of the monks painted the ceiling to look like a dome, somewhere in the 17th century. I forgot the exact date.’ You smile. ‘It might be my favourite ceiling in all of Rome, even though there is a lot of competition.’

‘It is incredible,’ he has to admit.

As you walk from the Sant’Ignazioto the Forum Romanum, you are surprised to learn that he knows little about the history of the place, so you give him a crash course Roman Republic, which continues as you walk over the square that was once the most powerful place in the world.

‘So this is over 2000 years old?’ he asks, looking at the ruins.

‘It is. And look, over there – some people say that Cesar was murdered here, but that is incorrect. Uou see, he was actually murdered under the statue of Pompey, his adversary, which…’ You stop yourself. ‘Am I boring you?’

‘Not at all,’ he immediately says. ‘Please continue – who was Pompey?’

~~

‘I think you missed the call to your mom,’ he says.

You look at your watch and see the time. 21:30.

‘I completely forgot,’ you say. You don’t want to admit that the phone call was fictional, so you turn on your phone and send your mom a short update. ‘I will call her tomorrow. She’ll forgive me.’

‘Especially if you explain to her why you missed the call,’ he says. ‘The best spaghetti in the world.’

‘If I tell her that, she will definitely not forgive me,’ you joke. ‘In my family, we all know that my grandma makes the best pasta in the world.’

‘That must be quite the legendary pasta then,’ he says.

‘It is,’ you acquiesce.

You take another sip of your wine. ‘How long will you be staying in Rome?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘How about you?’

‘I don’t know,’ you admit.

He offers to pay, a kind gesture that you refuse. ‘You have already bought me food today.’

‘And you gave me an excellent tour. I feel like I have underpaid you.’

‘It was my pleasure, but you don’t have to pay again.’

‘I insist,’ he says. He leans forward. ‘But I wouldn’t say no to another guided tour.’

You feel that your cheeks are turning red. You haven’t felt this relaxed, this free since… well, since you fled to Rome. That had meant that you had left the judging looks behind you, but it had been lonely at times.

Now, for the first time in months, there’s no longer a heavy stone weighing on your stomach, despite the fact that you not only ate a big plate of pasta, but also some of the best ice cream you have ever had.

And that is all thanks to Fred.

‘I think I know just the place,’ you say.

As you walk past the river Tiber, you tell him the story of Romulus and Remus. After, you point him to the Ponto Vittorio Emanuele, the beautiful bridge that crosses the river. Its lights reflect in the water.

‘It is spectacular,’ he tells you softly.

‘We’re going to cross it,’ you tell him. ‘Behind it, there’s a beautiful building.’ The breeze cools your hot face and you can hear the sounds of people laughing, cutlery hitting plates. People eating outside, or taking a walking after dinner.

As you walk over the bridge, you point at the Castel Sant’Angelo. ‘It is over 1900 years old.’

‘1900?’ he repeats.

You nod. ‘The statues are from later times, I believe from the 18th century. And it has been a prison – but it was traditionally built as a mausoleum.’

You stand still to admire the view for a couple of seconds. When you feel Fred touching your hand, you don’t pull away. You don’t mind him holding your hand.

You don’t mind at all.

You look at him as he stares at the building and wonder if you are about to make a mistake. Who knows – he might be a serial killer. He might be dangerous.

But you don’t believe that. Most people, in the end, are, if not trustworthy, at least not serial killers.

‘You know,’ you say. ‘There are many places like this. Well, not like this, but there are many other castles and museums – and restaurants, all around Europe.’

‘And you are going to visit them all,’ he says.

‘I hope so.’

You want to continue, but you notice that he is about to say something. He seems to be hesitating.

‘This might be a really stupid idea,’ he eventually says. ‘And if you don’t want to – that is okay. But I don’t know where I want to go next, and you told me you have a car.’

‘I do,’ you say.

‘Do you think I could tag along, at least for the next trip? We could split the fuel costs, and it would be more practical than travelling by plane.’

‘It depends,’ you answer. ‘Do you really don’t care about where you're going? Because I am planning on getting lost.’

He smiles. ‘Sounds like an adventure to me.’

#fred x reader #reader x fred #harry potter #gryffindor

[ram-reads]

Summary: The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy takes place a year after A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue. During that year Felicity has made her way back to England and is looking for a way to get into the medical field. She has a hard time achieving that goal though due to the field of medicine being occupied by sexist men. She thinks she has finally found her chance when she is told that Alexander Platt, her idol, needs help on an expedition he has planned and probably wouldn’t be deterred by her sex. The problem is that he is located in Stuttgart and is about to be married to Johanna Hoffman, her childhood friend that she had a falling out with. Her first problem is solved when a pirate named Sim offers to pay the travel fees as long as Felicity helps her get into Johanna’s house. More problems arise though after she meets Platt in person and Sim ends up stealing something that belongs to Johanna. Thoughts: For the most part I did enjoy the plot. The story could get a little boring here and there, especially at the beginning. It’s a slow starting book. Once the plot fully reveals itself it remains consistently interesting. It helps that I tend to like road trip-esque stories. It’s fun getting to travel to multiple places in a book and seeing the characters react to being in a new setting they’re not used to, especially if they never had plans to travel in the first place but circumstances forced them to. Felicity only ever planned to travel to Stuttgart so it was fun seeing how the plot unfolded in a way that she ended up having to travel to many more places. I just wish we had gotten to explore these places more because it felt like the majority of the book was either spent on a ship or in a house. I tend to not enjoy historical fiction books so much when the main focus of them is on how discriminated women were back in the day. This is because it just makes me angry remembering all the obstacles women faced in the past, which then reminds me of all the obstacles women still face today because we are still far from being treated equally. It surprisingly didn’t bother me as much in this story even though being discriminated against based on gender is a major focus of the plot. I think this is because all three characters are so determined to achieve their goals. They know what they want to do and they’re not going to let men keep them from their dreams. I loved their confidence and how they all supported each other when their confidence wavered. I was a little disappointed that the piracy part of the title hadn’t been used to its full potential. It doesn’t really come into play until the last hundred pages and since I love pirates I was hoping for them to play a bigger role.

My feelings on the three main characters differed. Felicity’s perspective was fun to follow, though she does fall into the “I’m not like other girls” rut that usually annoys me. Luckily it was actually called out and addressed. While I did like her storyline it took me a long time to reconcile the Felicity of this novel with the Felicity from the first book. She seems more reckless when in the last book she seemed level-headed, and I get that it’s because she is desperate but it still felt off to me for a long time. Johanna Hoffman is Felicity’s childhood best friend that she had a falling out with due to Felicity thinking she was no longer the same person because Johanna started to like “girly” things like dressing nice. She wants to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a naturalist, but like Felicity she faces many roadblocks because of her gender. I didn’t care much for Johanna but not because she irritated me or anything, I just didn’t connect with her. I did like how her character was used to make the commentary that you can still be “girly” and smart. Sim is a pirate that Felicity gets introduced to through Scipio. She agrees to pay Felicity’s way to Stuttgart because she wants access to Johanna’s house for reasons that she won’t tell Felicity. Out of all three girls I found her to be the most interesting, so of course she is the one we get to see the least of. I like characters who are hard on the outside but are actually kind. It also has to do with the fact that she’s a pirate princess who one day wants to take over her father’s pirate empire. Who wouldn’t be intrigued by that? I also liked how Sim was Muslim because I don’t come across many Muslim characters written by authors from the United States or the United Kingdom. It’s even more rare for me to see Muslim characters in historical fiction that takes place mostly in Europe, so it makes me incredibly happy to see this representation. Fans of Monty and Percy from the first book will be pleased to hear that they are present in this novel. While they don’t play as big of a role as Felicity did in their story they are still in the novel for a good portion of it and I enjoyed the part they played. The bond between them and Felicity is super sweet. There was no romance in this, yay! Well, at least no romance subplot involving Felicity because guess what? She’s aromantic or asexual! I can’t say for sure which one because I’ve seen this book on many ace lists, but I personally read Felicity as aromantic because she seems to have no interest in romantic relationships at all. Either way I’m just glad to have the representation and that the focus was on the friendship between the three girls. They were all at their best when they were together and I liked seeing all of them supporting each other in their ambitions. My main gripe with the writing was that the chapters were too long. There were too many chapters that were over twenty pages long (some even over thirty!) and not enough breaks happening within those super long chapters. I’ll never understand why some authors write this way, especially when so many events happen within a chapter that it could easily be broken up. Mackenzi Lee still excels at writing history though. It’s always cool reading the additional information she has at the end of the book. I really enjoyed her Seven Real Women Who Would Have Been BFFs with Felicity, Johanna, and Sim bit. I’ll have to look up more about Jeanne de Clisson because she sounds like a badass. It’s always clear from these sections that Lee did a lot of research to write her stories and I appreciate that a lot when I’m reading historical fiction. It’s probably because she does such a good job researching that she’s able to effortlessly mix in a little drop of fantasy into that time period and make it seem believable. As a big fan of historical fantasy I love to see it. While I didn’t enjoy this as much as the first book due to the plot not being consistently interesting until about halfway through it was still a great read. Seeing Felicity and her friends fight back against sexism was satisfying along with seeing all the representation this book had to offer. All three girls had an amazing friendship that I wouldn’t mind seeing again someday. Maybe in a novella set a year or two after this story? Monty and Percy got one so I think Felicity and her friends deserve one too. I’ll be waiting!

#book review #book reviews #ya fantasy #historical fiction #historical fantasy #lgbt+ books #queer books #diverse books #queer lit #fantasy books #montague siblings #tlgtpap #the lady's guide to petticoats and piracy #book recs #book recommendations #booklr #4 stars #2021 reads #my reviews

[cinnaster]

RS RAMBLE HOUR

Lots and lots and LOTS of notes about Radiant Souls Chapters 1-3!

THE CHAPTER TITLES

Apart from the prologue (Chapter 1), all chapter titles have unique names. Many of the titles have references, word play, and idioms all while trying to encompass the subject or feel of the chapter, so I really try to stretch my creativity.

Chapter 2, "It's Apocalypse O'Clock Somewhere", is a reference to the Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffett song "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere". The song (which is very fun BTW and is seen on many vacation playlists) references the common saying as a way to justify day drinking after doing a lot of work. Isyris, similar to the song, justifies his day drinking (and vacation in general) as an "I did a lot of work so I deserve this" sort of thing.

However, the title references the apocalypse happening in place of the time. Interestingly, while the saying suggests that locations have a different times to justify day drinking, NYC and Aruba actually share the same timezone. This illustrates that Isyris is sitting on his ass drinking while in NYC his family is getting pummeled by alien invaders, and also illustrates the urgency. The apocalypse more or less comes to Isyris' attention whether he likes it or not, and it was only a matter of time.

Chapter 3, "So Long, Paradise", is a lot more simple. While there's no specific reference or pun I had in mind, paradise is often considered a place to be gained or lost, to find or to leave. In Isyris' case, it was cut off before he was ready. (Funny that even before he knew about the invasion, his paradise wasn't quite perfect. He knew something was missing and was trying to force his way through enjoyment.) He does not explicitly say goodbye to Aruba, but he takes one last look at the sunset. He's so dramatic lol. Meanwhile, the gargoyles get to spend all the time they want in paradise, chanting it as they run off with Isyris' card.

ISLAND LANGUAGE

Aruba is your typical case of European colonization. It is currently a state of The Netherlands, though historically Spain and England also had control over the island at some point. Isyris speaks neither Dutch nor Papiamento, which are the main languages of the Caribbean Dutch island states (Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao), but the English-speaking tourism there is well-established. Most people on the island (especially if they work in the tourism industry) speak multiple languages.

Isyris was in Orangestad, the capital city, and he was also more on the northwest coastline where the majority of ritzy hotels and resorts are. Most of his interaction with others had been with those in the tourism industry (tour and museum guides, workers at hotels, bars and restaurants, etc.) who spoke English, so he had no trouble with language.

He also went in early June, so it's right at the start of summer vacation for many American families (and himself). The location and timing meant he was around a bunch of other English-speaking tourists, which is why he was able to understand others around him and why the TV at the grill & bar was tuned in to an American news station.

YOU THINK I HAVE MONEY IN THIS ECONOMY?

Isyris does not really have much Aruba currency, the Aruba florin, because he's simply using his credit card for most things. He does know how credit cards work in general (he understands debt and interest), so he's not necessarily pulling money out of nowhere because he knows what he needs to pay back.

But yes, he is certainly living slightly past his means by going on this trip. Isyris is riding into dangerous territory (he has not worked long enough on the surface to gain significant savings, hence the credit card usage). He's knows he's at risk but figures that because he is a working man that after summer vacation he will be back to the cafeteria grind, so it isn't the end of the world and surely he can pay it off with time.

He's not being overly safe as it is, but this is because he has a background of wealth and is still getting used to, you know, not being rich. It takes time to kick habits and old ways of thinking, especially when you have then suddenly do not have. The idea of getting a summer vacation was sprung on him so suddenly that he was like "Yeah you know what I do deserve Me Time the moment I get a break from work" and did not think much about it beyond that. Just use the credit card and don't think too hard about it. Speaking of which...

CREDIT CARD WOES

The goyles, Merry and Pippin, don't really understand credit cards. Not because they can't understand it or that Yōkai don't have similar concepts in their society (canon Yōkai taxes and currency exist, after all), they're just idiots. They're confused because Isyris no longer lives a life of luxury yet can "pull money out [of the card] like magic", so they're under the impression that he chooses to live this way as part of his Soft Good Guy shtick. They (particularly Merry) are frustrated with this and think he needs some serious help. Pippin is a little more cautious, not wanting to suffer any more of Isyris' bouts of anger, but Merry will gladly criticize his boss for it, especially because his financial decisions affect them.

Merry also took Isyris leaving the note as a sign for them to do whatever they need to do on their own (instead of doing what Isyris meant, which was to come home immediately as soon as they could get a flight). Isyris had to rush home sooner and didn't care to take the time to drag them back, which he knew would have inevitably been a Whole Ordeal. It'd be like trying to get a cat or dog into its travel crate when it already knows it's going to the vet or some equally unpleasant place.

But this all feeds into the goyles not feeling remorseful (or fearful) for using Isyris' credit card the way they are. They're about to massively fuck this man over financially by being cute little idiots lol.

Oh well! It's as Honey said in Chapter 8, at least Isyris doesn't have rent to pay anymore. When Isyris lamented that he doesn't have anything besides the clothes on his back and in his suitcase, it's not really an exaggeration. He and Angel lost everything in the apartment fire. For Angel it was a far more serious and meaningful loss, as she had been living there for a majority of her life. For Isyris it hadn't been long, although he had managed to slowly turn the dingy apartment into something more presentable. But what little he has is gone, and now on top of it, his debt will be massive. Oops!

WASTIN' AWAY AGAIN IN MARGARITAVILLE

Out of all the details to get hung up on during writing the first chapters, what alcoholic drink Isyris had (and was originally just a long set-up for the spit take) was one of the hardest. In fact I left it as "[drink]" in my draft for the longest time lol. "A tropical drink that's not piña colada because that's too basic" was my goal. I went through a lot of cocktail sites to find some good options. A drink called Aruba Ariba was on the table because it's an emblematic drink of Aruba, only found there, but I felt that it was a little too on the nose.

After a lot of thought, I went with a Mai Tai. (I've never had one but it honestly sounds delicious.) It's not a Caribbean-specific drink, in fact historically more a US west coast thing, but it's associated with the sort of tropical commercialism that the area of where Isyris was staying advertises. It's touristy and amusingly inauthentic, just like his general vacation experience.

THE PORTAL SIGIL

I put a fair amount of research into the sigil Isyris makes to portal himself to NYC, and I made it accurate for what I planned. All of the symbols he made in the sigil are important. They're astronomical or alchemical symbols, representing different celestial bodies or elements.

The unit of measurement he uses, scrobi, is a made-up Yōkai one. But I based it on an ancient Egyptian/Greek/Roman unit of measurement called a schoenus, which was used for surveying. This was fairly convenient for the story because roughly the amount of miles he had to travel almost rounded out nicely to an even number, but not quite. (Isyris thinking it was exact, along with other tiny imprecise measurements or alignments, led to his little Upper Bay Adventure in the following chapter.)

When Isyris spun the compass-like sigil to align all the symbols with the celestial bodies, I had him actually align with what would have probably been in the sky. I used a fun website tool to figure out what stars would have been in the sky (even though they couldn't be seen, as it was still light out/evening), at the time and location he was, which was Oranjestad, Aruba, in early June. So the constellations that he listed as being at the zenith (right above his head) are actually accurate.

The idea is that for sigil portal magic to travel long distances, it needs reference points. Whatever symbol is put in the center becomes the main reference. In Isyris' case, he's on Earth, so he uses the Earth symbol in the center. All the other symbols around in the different tiers are how to align it. He aligns it with the Sun and with the more distant stars in the constellations, puts in the distance he wants to travel, and tells it that it's crossing land and sea.

There is one symbol in the sigil that isn't clearly defined on purpose. That one's special. You'll see.

OVERALL

Despite Isyris' dangerous money situation and his soon-to-be massive credit card debt, this big dumb sheep is still extremely catered to, just as any American tourist often is. While he didn't do nearly all the things he lied about much later in Chapter 8, nor did he have as much fun as he wished he had, he still got to experience a fairly nice vacation up until the point of hearing about the invasion.

He did in fact get to sit on the beach and see beautiful views, go to restaurants and bars, go on tours, etc., but he did so alone. He pretends like he was interacting with locals or something (or pretends that people think he, a painfully average American dad tourist in the eyes of others, is noteworthy and worth approaching) when that is very much not the case. While he was lying to make Masaru jealous, one has to wonder if a part of him did want a grander vacation experience that included other people in the picture. And not just the pretty women.

He didn't truly stay in Aruba that long, though; it had only been a few days. Had the goyles not taken and used his credit card, the trip would have been of little consequence to him, especially since he did not stay for the full duration that he planned.

Sadly, things do not always turn out the way you want them to when your name is Baron Isyris Draxum. Even if you do actually have your heart in the right place for once by returning home immediately to make sure your family is okay.

#this is only the notes i'm thinking of atm #radiant souls #rottmnt radiant souls #asterisms

[canirove]

Red & Blue | Chapter 23

Author’s note: If you send me any ask about this chapter, please put “Red & Blue spoiler” at the top so people who haven’t read it yet can avoid seeing anything that may ruin it for them ☺️ Also, the names of those fan accounts are totally made up. If they somehow exist, it is a coincidence 😅

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Masterlist

“He’s gonna break up with me.”

“Please stop saying that.”

“He will, Leah. I haven’t heard from him since I left England, and I’m supposed to fly back tomorrow.”

“But that’s what you agreed on, isn’t it?”

“It is. But if we were still going on holidays just the two of us, he would have said something already. And he hasn’t.”

“He may need more time. I spoke with Declan the other day, and he said that it’s been really tough. Mason only leaves the house to go for a run or a walk on the beach, and usually alone. And he has also heard him cry a few times.”

“Great” I say, also starting to cry.

“You are gonna be ok” Leah says, hugging me. “I know it.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do. My ship isn’t sinking, I can feel it on my belly.”

“That may be the three ice creams you ate earlier” I chuckle.

“It isn’t that. It’s the same feeling I had when you first met Mason. And I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

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Our alone trip to Italy isn’t the only thing that is cancelled. The week we were going to spend in Portugal with our families, isn’t happening either.

“What do you mean you are taking some time off? Did something happen?” my mum asks when I call her to share the news.

“It didn’t. But there were some things going on, and before they became something serious, we decided to spend some time apart and work through them.”

“That sounds like something someone who is about to break up would say.”

“We are not breaking up, mum. Don’t say that.”

“Is it because you are leaving? He doesn’t agree with it?”

“It has nothing to do with that. It’s something else, and it’s personal.”

“If you say so…”

“Yes, I do say so. Anyway, you can still go to Portugal. And you should. Don’t let this ruin your holidays, dad was looking forward to it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, mum, I’m sure. Mason has told the same to his family. Enjoy these days and don’t worry about me. I’m staying with Aaron and Georgina.”

“As if it was that easy to not worry about you and Mason after what you just told me.”

“We’ll be ok. I promise.” Because that’s what I also tell myself. That we will be ok.

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“Real Madrid just confirmed the day of your presentation at the Bernabéu” Eliza says while we go through the last details of my trip to Spain.

“Finally! But why that face? Is there something wrong?”

“It’s the last week of August, when Chelsea is in the US.”

“Oh.” That’s all I can say. Oh.

Things between Mason and I haven’t changed. We text from time to time, mostly him asking me how are things going with the move, if I need anything. And the urge to tell him that what I need the most is him by my side, is real. But I don’t do it. He still needs time, and I promised I would respect his decision. Even if it is killing me.

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My first weeks in Spain are a blur, constantly going from one place to another. When I’m not training, it’s time to do interviews and photoshoots, and there is a point where I lose track of how many I’ve done. Though I’m kind of thankful for it all, because I don’t have time to think. I’m so tired, that the moment I get home I instantly fall asleep.

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We are playing our first proper game of the season at home, at the Alfredo Di Stefano. And it is packed with people.

“You’ll be fine” one of my teammates says, giving my shoulder a little squeeze. “Just take a deep breath.”

“Yes” I reply with a shy smile. All the girls have welcomed me with open arms, making this huge change a lot easier. And I can’t thank them enough.

The moment we go out for our warm-up, the noise is crazy. Everyone is cheering, clapping, and I can hear some people screaming my name. Every time I touch the ball, I hear more cheers and screams. But instead of getting nervous, they give me energy, making me more eager for the start of the game.

When we go back inside to get changed, someone from the staff pulls me away.

“There is someone waiting for you” he says.

“Now?” I ask.

“Yes, now. He’s over there” he says, pointing to a corridor nearby.

“Mason?” I say when I see the person standing there. It can’t be. It can’t be him.

“Hello, gorgeous” he says with a big smile.

I can’t help it and throw myself into his arms, making him take a step back to not lose balance. But he hugs me back, and we are doing it so tightly, that I can feel his heart beating against my chest. It is going as fast as mine.

“What are you doing here?” I say to his neck. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”

“I do. But Tuchel allowed me to come in exchange for not having a free day next week. And I must leave tonight.”

“You’ve come just for the game?” I ask, moving to look him in the face.

“I couldn’t miss seeing my girlfriend and fake wife on her first game with Real Madrid, could I?” he says with that smile I love so much.

“Your girlfriend and fake wife?”

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Does this mean…?” I don’t want to say it aloud. I don’t want to jinx it.

“Yes. I don’t need more time to think. I can’t be 100% sure that I won’t feel insecure again, I’m human after all. But I know that if it happens, I’ll have you by my side, that you will help me get through it. Just like I will help you and be by your side whenever you need me.”

“You need to wrap it up, guys” the staff member from earlier says behind me.

“Already?” I say.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’ll be on the stands cheering for you” Mason says. “Now you go and show those Spaniards what you are capable of.”

“Promise me that you won’t leave the stadium without saying goodbye.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I love you, Mason” I say, hugging him again, not wanting to let him go.

“I love you too, gorgeous.”

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#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #football fanfic

[amoveablejake]

A Tale of Three Cities

Adventures in Belgium. 

If you asked me how long I spent in Belgium, I would probably say that it was weeks. In actuality, I made my way across the Channel last Monday and within the same week returned to these shores. It does, as I say, feel like I have been a way for considerably longer which I think is down to the fact that whilst I was in the country I traveled around three cities to explore the nation further. The trip started off where the Eurostar lets you off which is Brussels. I think now that I have been on the Eurostar a handful of times, it is my favourite way to travel internationally. It is a lot calmer than flying in my eyes and the whole experience is a real breath of fresh air, ofcourse not literally because it does go under water. Sorry, I had to fit that in somewhere but at least I didn’t express my disappointment and not seeing the fish. Brussels itself is an interesting city. It seems to be referred to as the ‘Capital of Europe’ which I suppose in a governance sense it is but it doesn’t necessarily feel like that in practise. I say that because it feels decidedly Belgian and that is all to its strength. Although certain activities such as the Atomium are stretched out in the city, it still feels small and its population of just over two million people shows that. It is a small capital, and as part of that it can still feel local. Yes, it does have tourist attractions and a lot of people from all over the world traipsing through its streets but it is still very easy when you’re there to feel like you’re just a part of the city that is going about its day. London can be the same although perhaps more in a way that is forcing that feeling on you as the residents don’t have time to always allow for the slowness of tourists. Brussels on the other hand both seems to accept the tourists and include them in how it functions. I liked Brussels quite a bit and if any city has to be the capital of Europe, whilst it might not be my first pick, I am happy that it is it. 

After spending a couple of nights in Brussels, we made our way to Antwerp via the train. Now, the trains in England are largely good. Sure there are sometimes strikes and engineering works but the former is for the rights of the workers so more power to them and the engineering works are to keep things running even if they can be a pain at times. The trains in Belgium though, well, I’m sure they have the same things happen there but they felt like they were operating on another level. The prices were a hell of a lot better and the trains themselves were too. They were a joy to travel on and it made the hour journey to Antwerp fly by. About four years ago I made a flying visit to Antwerp as I stopped in it as I was coming back from a road trip. My time spent there on that occasion was probably only for a couple of hours but it left a lasting impression of being a nice place. I was nervous that by spending more time in the city that favourable view of it would diminish but I needn’t have worried. Antwerp does not feel like a tourist city. Sure, yes it has visitors, but it feels like a city living its life. A city that has a clear identity which is a creative one at that as a lot of the industries in the city are creative ones. It feels calm, collected and the sort of place that you could live in as an outsider and soon feel the opposite. The main thing about Antwerp though is the accommodation that we stayed in. If you ever go, stay in Yust. It is everything that you want a hotel to be and is one of the nicest places that I have ever stayed. It has a strong design aesthetic, great facilities, comfortable rooms and it is evident throughout that a lot of care has gone into its creation. My soft spot for Antwerp has only grown and I will be thinking about Yust a great deal.

I can’t believe that people live in Bruges. I can’t believe that people actually have their day to day life, go to school there, work there, raise families there because it feels like a fictional city. Bruges feels like someone has made it based on what they think Europe looks like. The feel to it aswell, is very much as a tourist city but it sort of works. A bit like Disneyland which I am sure a lot of Bruges locals would be furious at me for saying but let me explain. Disneyland gets away with all of the tourists and people because you know that everyone is there for the same thing and whilst Bruges is ofcourse different because people actually live there, there is still a sense that everyone knows that there will be a lot of tourists. The cobbled streets will be filled with people marveling at the buildings and desperately trying to track down Belgian waffles and fries. It is, in a way, part of its charm because the feel of the city is one that people are excited to see. As you walk around the city there are a lot of smiling faces and yes they are mostly tourists but I do hope some of that excitement does come from the locals because they should be excited. It is a wonderful city, one that almost looks too good to be true and it is a charming place to visit. I do like Belgium a lot, I liked it before and I like it  a lot more now. It feels like the slight underdog to Europe’s other big heavy hitters but I do think it deserves a seat at the table both as a tourist and as a place to live. Would I say that it is my favourite country in Europe to visit, I don’t know, but I certainly wouldn’t rule it out of the running. Belgium is definitely a special country and one that has a great deal of charm and it being two hours away on the Eurostar from this little island, that isn’t too bad at all. Even if I’m still not a hundred percent sure what the main language is. 

-Jake, a man who can’t stop thinking about ‘Across the Spider-Verse’, 11/06/2023