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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

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“SHOULD I TRY?”

Gilly Lopez x Reader

Serie Index. Chapter 5.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: NSFW 'cause maybe has a little of explicit violence.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author Comments: I hope you all enjoy. The gif isn’t mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @losolvidad0s ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Something unexpected hits your nape hard, making you fall to the floor bumping it with your head. All you feel is pain shaking your body with your eyes filled with tears. You want to fight, you want to get up, but the coup have get you knock out. Your eyelids are falling till the darkness envelops you and the last face you can see is Gilly's.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Your breath is calmed, starting to feel somewhat awake with the throat dried and a metallic taste between your teeth. You cough moving your head slight, opening your eyes slowly. The grief is back shaking your body with little lashes. Everything is blurred, trying to focus your gaze and find out where you are. But everything you can know is that your hands are tied, finding it when you're about to rub your forehead. You look at both wrist, with black esparto ropes wrapping them on a rusted headboard. Wooden walls around you, furniture full of cobwebs. There's also a skylight at the end of the room, on the ceiling, almost covered by a dirty blanket. You don't have to be so smart to know that you're in an attic. But, where?

Your pulse accelerates when you're able to hear some heavy steps going upstairs, opening the door with a screeching sound too annoying for your ears. Then, you see him. Carrying on his lips the same smile that one day made you fall in love loudly. You can't believe this is truly happening. Every single inch of your body contracts in tension, feeling the rage running through your veins when he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You want to hit him, but then you also figure out that your ankles are tied too.

“This is the part when you beg for your life”. He says with a jocular tone in his voice.

And when he thinks you're about to reply something, you spit his face. Bad move. The man slaps you with the back of his hand, breaking your lower lip by the left side because of the impact his ring makes on it.

“My brother will cut you into pieces to feed his dogs”. You chuckles, 'cause even if you're terrified, you're not going to show him.

“My back is well covered, mi amor”. He laughs loud, shaking his head for a second. “And you're gonna pay for betraying me”.

His right fist goes straight to your temple, provoking you an incessant and painful buzz till you finally lose the conscience again.

(Meanwhile at Mayans Clubhouse)

“We will find her”. Marcos says full of anger, narrowing Gilly's shoulder trying to stay calm.

“Is there any place he could go?”

“We asked to the cops of Tijuana. That son of a bitch has a property close to the east border, between the mountains”. José runs to the crew, with a record on his hand with all the information he received from Mexico.

“Let's fuck up that cabrón”. Angel says throwing away his cigar to get ready to ride his bike.

Gilly went this morning to bring you some breakfast and spend your day off together, but when he came to your house Alex told him that you went to throw the trash and she never came back. Your house-mates thought that you went to Gilly's house. Of course, he suspected that something was wrong, walking next to the trash cubes, finding there your keys. The first thing he did was call Bishop.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Mayans and Coyotes aren't stupid. The play smart leaving the bikes almost half a kilometer away, to not call the attention with the roar of his engines. They're all carrying different weapons. Shotguns, smalls hand guns, knives, even an AK-47 Marcus gave them. Dressing with dark clothes and bulletproofs vests, the bikers are more than ready to storm the house. Their steps become slow, hiding between the woods to have a look of the rustic house in the middle of nowhere, with a sport car parking next to the porch. Bishop looks at Marcos, who is rolling his eyes 'cause he knows how foreseeable he can be. That's why they never accepted in Los Coyotes de Tijuana.

Gilly wants to take the first step, but Coco stops him. If he goes inside first, everything could go wrong. Miguel walks bent over towards the windows having a quick look, to indicate that no one's on the first floor. Everything clean.

“Jorge, Tano, back yard” Marcos whispers then. “Mayans, with me”.

“Gilly and Tranq, you stay here, watching if someone else is coming”. Bishop indicates.

“You're gonna have to put a bullet between my eyebro', if you want me to stay here, man”. Gilly says pushing his chest, before getting up to walk outside the woods following his brother-in-law.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

“Despierta, mi amor”.

A cascade of cold water falls into your face and your mouth, making you drown for a while coughing with some difficulties, shaking your head and stirring your whole body. Your temple still hurting, as your wrists and ankles with the ties pressing and burning slightly your skin with every move, trying to get free. You can see Antonio leaving the empty glass of water on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking your chin with two fingers.

“I know you still love me, but your dear Marquitos turned you against me”.

“He did nothen' and I don' love you anymore, you fuckin' bastard”. You spit him again, without worrying about the fact the he can hit you another time. But he laughs, so loud that terrifies you more than the silence.

“You just had to learn how to love me properly”.

“How? Ah? Punching me till almost kill me? You're fuckin' sick, Antonio. And you're gonna pay for all of this”.

“When your new friends find this place, we will be so, so, so far away, mi amor”. He says then, caressing your swollen cheek with the back of his fingers. “And you will also carrying my child”.

“The fuc' are you talking 'bout?” You try hard to not show the tremble that shakes your voice.

“Sh... Relax, mi niña. You're gonna enjoy, for the old times”.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

“House clean!” Coco yells, being reunited with both crews at the hall.

“Shit!” Alejandro curses exhausted.

“Where the fuck he can be?” Taza asks facing Marcos with somewhat calm.

“I don' know... Did you register the car?”

“It's clean too, presidente”. José says shrugging with a gun in his hand.

“Another house, another property?” Bishop asks then desperate, trying to figure it out.

“I think... (Y/N) said something about... a cabin close to Mexico, the night at the hospital”. Jaime is trying to remember your words, not knowing of who could be the owner.

“What about Sancho?” Alejandro turns to Marcos.

“Who's Sancho?” Gilly takes another step closer to the mexican charter.

“His boss. That perro has somewhat like a house in surroundings Mexico DF”.

“How much time?”

“Two and a half. Maybe two hours if we're fast enough”.

“Then run for her fuckin' life!” Gilly shouts, keeping his gun behind his back.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

The tears are falling down running your cheeks and your neck. You can feel the stabbing pain in your low belly because of his bites, dragging his teeth over your skin wetting it. He didn't touch you yet, he's enjoying torturing you and laughing at your terrified gestures and your begs to him for stop. You claimed for help, believing that someone could hear you, but nobody came.

Antonio pulls down your pajama shorts, licking his lips with burning lust inside his orbs. He's ready to enjoy your body, even if you're praying him to not hurt you, trying to gain some time with the hope you can break free somehow as your brother taught you, when you were younger. Maybe dislocating your thumb, so you can strain a hand by the tie. Painful, but successful.

“I could never get tired of your body, mi amor”.

He sighs placing himself between your legs, arching your back when he surrounds your waist with both arms. You can feel how hard is he, turning your stomach, making you want to vomit. You can't understand why you fell in love so loud with him, or why the hell you felt so lost without him the first months in Santo Padre. Now you see it. You were blind. He made you think you never could be good enough for anyone. Neither your family, nor your friends. He absorbed you in a toxic loop, romanticizing every punch, every hit, every drop of spilled blood, every bruise. But then, you met Gilly. You met the love, the self-care, the laughs for nothing, the warm his hugs bring you, the hours in silence looking at each other, the dearly smiles, how good it's feels smell your shirt and find his scent.

And you know it's time to fight. For him. For your family. For your friends. For new life. For you.

For him, it's an unexpected scream full of pain. It hurt much more than you expected, feeling the agony running through your forearm up your elbow, flowing into your neck. But before he can reacts, your fist goes to his nose, with a soft crunch behind your knuckles. You have broken it. You know it's one of his weak points, after take so much cocaine that it made him a hole inside the bridge. That gives you some seconds, enough to take the empty glass of water to broke it against the floor and use a piece to cut the tie wrapping the other wrist. He gets up with the shirt soaked in blood as his lips and neck, and you can see he's furious, but you're not gonna give up pointing him with the glass.

“Cuando el coyote predica, no están seguras las gallinas”. (When the coyote preaches, the chicken aren't safe). You say, spitting every word, listening a high-pitch howl coming closer. You know it well, so he does. “Run, chicken, run”.

As he did two years ago, challenging your gaze with the difference that you're not drowning in your own blood but in pain and tears, he runs away. Antonio knows well what Marcos will do to him. But he doesn't know how much you have changed, and that your brother will be the less important problem. You hear him going downstair, giving him some seconds of advantage. Cutting the other ties, and placing on well your thumb with a crack and a growl, you stretch your numb legs and your arms.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” You can hear your brother's voice breaking the wooden front door, before some shoots and screams of pain.

The prey has been hunted after all this time hiding.

“(Y/N)! Where are you?!” Then you hear Bishop's.

You're trying to go down every stair step, supporting your weight over your palms in the railing. You find yourself crying. But you're not sure why. Pain, horror, sadness, but also happiness, relief, alleviation, run through your veins and your mind making you feel confused.

“Baby! Say something! Where are you?” Gilly is there. Your shaky legs fail, falling apart over the stairs, having a sit whilst your cry gets louder, enough to listen a lot of heavy steps coming to you. “(Y/N)!”

He runs towards you going upstairs, kneeling in front of you before hugging your body between his strongs and warm arms. And the world get paralyzed. You're at home, even if it's not your house, nor even your town. But it's him. It's all about Gilly.

“The kid is here! We foun’ he’!” Coco shouts to the rest, from the beginning of the stairs.

“Give them a moment, now she's safe”. Alejandro says, pushing him away to the living room where they caught Antonio.

You need your time to wrap his back, feeling that your arms doesn't reply to any move tired of being in the same position for more than eighteen hours. He's trying to comfort you with gently caresses all over your head and back, sinking your face on his neck. You know he's blaming himself about what you said, about that you were scared that he could find you if the Coyotes traveled to Santo Padre. But at least, you caught him and he's gonna pay for all the pain he provoked you.

“Are you hurt?” He asks almost in a whisper, pulling you some inches away inspecting your face, with the desperation consuming his soul.

“I love you”. You answers, still drowning in your own salty tears, licking your lips. He laughs bittersweet, before helping you to get up, raising you on his arms.

“You’re safe now, baby”. He mutter in your ear, resting your face on his chest.

“She will do it”. Marcos talks whilst Alejandro is nodding drawing a silver dagger, when the Mayan comes to the living room supporting you.

No one says nothing, while Gilly is helping you to put yourself on your feet. They’re kinda sleepy, but without letting go one of his hands, you raise the free one to the knife with a cross engraved on it. The both prospect of the charters are holding Antonio’s arms, kneeling above the wooden floor with his gaze filled by wrath.

“Listen, if you don’t wanna do’et…” Bishop walks towards you, twisting his face, so only you can hear him.

“This is my job”. You deny with a scratchy tone in your voice. “This is what I used to do, and this is what I’m gonna do”.

Setting yourself free, you bend next to the man who tried to ruin your life and almost killed you. There’s no expression on your countenance, but he’s starting to look scared. Ripping off his shirt, pulling away both apertures and gently sticking the tip of the sharp knife into his chest, enough to draw a shallow slit to write the name of your charter on it. Yes, maybe you’re enjoying every shout wrapped in grief, while Antonio stirs under the grip. Mayans must be freaking out behind you, because your family have seen you so many times dealing with this kind of situations that they don’t even get surprised.

“You wi—”

“I will nothen’!” You yell at him, hitting his mouth with your left elbow to make him shut up. “I told you that night, when the blood collected in my throat. One day I would find you and I would make you pay for every tear, for every bruise, for every time you raped me, for every time you hit me for no reason. And now, here comes judgment day, pinche perro”.

You’re feeling strong than never, maybe because of the adrenaline invading every inch of your anatomy, dragging every word you spit above your tongue. And his blood splashes your face, your neck and your shirt, when the dagger blade pierces his skin ripping it completely. A guttural growl comes out from his throat when your hand falls down holding the knife, cutting his chest till you reach the belt on his jeans. The blood bathes the carpet, taking away his last breaths while the prospect letting him go, making Antonio drop half dead.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Your back is against the wall, sitting on one of the bed of the Mayans clubhouse, in the last room. You have been alone for the past three hours, after convincing your brother to come back to Tijuana. He wasn’t in accordance with your decision, but the fault wasn’t theirs. And you were calm because of that man was already dead. Although your mind was remembering everything that happened once and again, you knew that night you could finally sleep peaceful.

Bishop comes to the room, closing the door after his steps, sitting on the edge of the bed with some distance between both. He isn’t the Rey de los Mayas because of his age, but because of his intelligence. And you played smart when you told him you never were an active member. But you don’t need it, if you're somekind of nomad or hired assassin.

“You ok?”

You nod slightly, raising your eyes at him.

“So… That was your job, rai’?”

You nod again. No words needed.

“Was it one of the reasons why he did all that to you?”

“He did it ‘cause my brother never wanted him to be part of Los Coyotes. Taking me to hell and teaching me that it was the only life I could have, it was the way to be close to them”.

Bishop puts his gaze away, having a deep breath by his nose, to let go the air by his lips.

“Gilly blames himself”.

“I know, but it’s not his fault, nor yours, nor anyone. I allowed Antonio to do it, it’s only because of me”.

“He wanna see ya’”.

You nod a third time, in silence, letting know that you want to see him too. The president gets up of his seat, walking towards the door to let him cross it, leaving you two alone. He doesn’t know what say to make you feel better, or to make you feel safe. Without knowing, that you are already feeling this way. This was like another job, with the difference that you killed the man who pushed you to the limit of your capacities. Your knees are placed against your chest, surrounding them with both arms, when he takes the same seat Bishop had. His head down, his forearms supported on his lap and both hands on his nape. Gilly sets free a heavy snort with closed eyes, without moving an inch when you hug him laying your chest on his back, surrounding his neck.

“I’m so sorry ‘you have to see me doin’et”. You whisper leaving some kisses on his head. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened in the last weeks. I just�� turned your world upside down”.

“You stabilized it”. He replies shaking his chin, turning to look at you. “I should listened you, and I di—”.

“Take me home, Gilly”. You ask him, making the reference to his house and the safe-place you two built there.

#mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #gilly lopez x reader #gilly lopez #gilly lopez imagine

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football15-7fics · 4 years ago

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Little Princess - Chapter 2

August 10, 2017

Dortmund

Adrianna couldn't be any happier. Her come back to Dortmund did great on her. Despite of the fact that she spent five gleeful months in London, she was home. She missed the restaurant that would deliver her food on a daily basis as she wasn't really a top chef, she missed her favorite coffee restaurant where she would sip on two or three cappuccinos as her fingers would thumb the pages of a new edition of Vogue magazine. She was absolutely neddy on her little habits.

That morning, she had decided to pay a surprise visit to her dad. She met with him just once since she came back. She had bought him a gift box with a set of Armani Deluxe collection, his favorite. Adrianna loved her dad dearly, he meant the world to her. Their bond was everlasting, she was a real daddy girl and it has always been so since ever she was born. Like everyone Adrianna had her dispirited times. But she knew where to go or to call at any moment, her dad. He would cancel important meeting with big names just to help her.

As she arrived at Dortmund's Excellent Business Center, the whole staff greeted her in the warmest manners. She was really admired by everyone, not just because of her "big boss daughter" title but because she was so nice to everyone.

"Hallo Emma, how are you?" Adrianna addressed to her dad's secretary.

"Ohhhhh Adrianna, love, you're back!!" She immediately stood off her chair to hug Adrianna.

"Yes, I'm back and it feels so good to be home."

"I'm so happy!"

"Dad didn't tell you?" Adrianna frowned her eyebrows.

"No, no he didn't, maybe he wanted us a surprise, and it's so."

"Yes, probably, can I go in, is he busy or engaged in an endless talk with a potential client?" Adrinna joked.

"Oh sweetie, he didn't tell you, he's on a business trip!"

"What are you sure, no ne hadn't told me about that, where did he go?" Adrianna asked curiously. She was sad, and even though she tried hard to hide her sentiment, a dejection expression could be read on her face.

"New York, potential partnership with an American firm!"

"Woaw, it's far... ehmmm well... I'm gonna give him a call to take on his news!" She said with a forced smile.

"I'm sorry sweetie, yes, call him!" Emma said.

"Yeah, well, I'll leave you with your tons of work, we should head out soon for a lunch!"

"Of course Adri, I'd love to!"

"Sure thing, I'll let you know then!" Adrianna answered back as she headed to the elevator.

《♡》

A dejected Adrianna left her dad's office with a sour taste. She had so wished to see her dad, and would obviously had a daddy-daughter lunch time. While on her way home, she changed her mind from heading straight to her house to pay a visit to her favourite men team in the world. She drove off to Brackel BVB' training ground. Of course she was extremely friendly with the whole team, she loved each one of them even though she was extremely close to Roman Bürki, his bestie. As she arrived at Brackel, she parked her black Porsche SUV, stopped the engine and looked up for her access pass in the gloves box. By holding forty percent of Dortmund, her dad was a key member of the board of investors. Big decisions like players transfers, money and salaries had to get his approval.

A big smile curved her lips as she approached the training area. Boys shouting and laughing could be heard from a big distance. Having access to the training ground and stadium, Adrianna loved to watch the team during their training sessions. Sometimes she would even kick the ball with them and she pnce gave a try to the goalie place, a real catastrophe.

It didn't take long to get noticed by the boys. Roman instantly left his goalkeeper cage and ran freely to Adrianna for the warmest hug they ever had. These two were so close to each other that rumours ran from mouth to mouth that they crossed the friendship line. She had no time to waste on paying attention to such ugly gossips. Adrianna considered Roman as her brother and him as her sister.

"My gosh you're back Adri!!!" He said not letting go Adrianna.

"Awww Ro... if you keep on hugging me so tightly you gonna be the death of me!!" She joked

"Oh yes, sorry, but you know me, I can't control myself when I'm happy!" Roman said as he had his arms still around Adrianna. "I've missed you girl, so much" He added as he kissed her cheek.

"I've missed you too Ro..." Adrianna smiled.

"Adriana...." Marco shouted waving his hand.

"Hallo Marco boy, you okay?" She yelled as he was at a far distance of her.

"Doing great girl... You're back?"

"Yes.. for good!" She shown her thumb nail.

"Adrianna" and it went like this from all the boys, the medical staff team, everybody rejoiced about her come back.

"So how was your stay in London?" Roman asked.

"It was amazing, I got lucky to work with mom and had fun there!"

"Yes, from your face expression I can read it was."

"So... how things went during my absence, anything new?"

"Nothing much, we had lots of friendlies games, training here and there."

"What a harsh life Roman!!" She joked sarcastically.

"So what you've done since your arrival?"

"Nothing much, today I wanted to make a visit surprise to my dad, but I was unaware that he was on a business trip to New York, I'm disappointed!" A

"Yes I see that... but hey what about to have a dinner tonight just the two of use, let's say at my place, seven, is it good?"

"Yee, for sure, yes let's do this."

"Hey by the way, do you have the list for the next potential transfers?" Roman asked out with curiosity.

"No, I had no time to check it, not even on internet, why any new super talent joining us?"

"Matthias, Sven, Ousmane and the others are out, I heard that my friend Akanji, Neve in coming back!"

"Neven is back, OMG thats some great news!" Adrianna exalted.

"Oh yes, but the most exciting is that we are signing Jadon Sancho, he should start with our youth team first, and I bet he'll join us seniors in a short lapse of time, man this boy is pure talent, I bet you heard of him, he's at Man City youth, if not, just look him on youtube!"

Adrianna had her breath cut to until it hurt her throat. This name did make part of her past, she did finally got over him and mostly the fact she had slept with a kid. "No way!!!" She spoke to herself. Her focus on Roman was left off as he gaze looked nervously at the green grass under her shoes.

"Oh.. wowww...." She spoke irregularly with a broken voice. "Sancho..."

"Yes, Jadon Sancho, he's a beast!" "Hey you okay Adri, you look pale!" Roman asked worriedly as he grabbed her hands.

"Yes, I'm okay, uhmmm, that the rush of emotions, you know, I haven't got to see you during four months, I've missed you."

"Right, let me go back to the training otherwise I'll get penalized, see you later baby girl!" Roman winked as he walked back to his team.

"Oh god... what the fuck!!!"

#jadon sancho-little princess #jadon sancho #jadon sancho fanfiction #football fanfiction

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caddyxjellyby · 7 years ago

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Alcott Readathon 2018: An Old-Fashioned Girl (1869)

Alcott’s third or fourth depending on how you count Good Wives novel, featuring cane-shaking, a menage a trois, and America’s favorite fighting Frenchman. Polly Arrives Fanny tells Tom to pick up Polly from the station. Tom says "She'll think you cared more about your frizzles than your friends, and she'll be about right, too." Fanny says "If I was the President, I'd make a law to shut up all boys till they were grown; for they certainly are the most provoking toads in the world." I wonder what Tom means by wearing a thingumbob? A veil maybe? The naughty boy tells Polly the hack-driver is tipsy so he won’t have to sit with her. It boggles my mind that a fourteen year old would refer to herself as a “little girl.” I suppose back them children didn’t have to bend over backwards to be taken seriously. That is, if you refer to yourself as a little girl people won’t take you seriously. But if they just do it as a given you don’t bend over backwards to earn it. Polly sings for Madam Shaw, the grandmother, and they talk about how they were brought up properly unlike the Shaw siblings. Madam Shaw doesn’t approve of children calling their father Papa. What the fuck. I bet “the old man” would make her spontaneously combust. The girls see a vulgar play; Polly doesn’t understand half the jokes, and the girls on stage are dressed as jockeys, which I think means wearing trousers. Scandalous. Madam Shaw praises her innocence.

New Fashions

Apparently eyeglasses were trendy in 1869. Polly follows Fanny to school, where the girls gossip about Carrie who ran away with an Italian music teacher.

Fanny: "I like to read about such things; but it's so inconvenient to have it happen right here, because it makes it harder for us. I wish you could have heard my papa go on. He threatened to send a maid to school with me every day, as they do in New York, to be sure I come all right. Did you ever?"

Belle: "That's because it came out that Carrie used to forge excuses in her mamma's name, and go promenading with her Oreste, when they thought her safe at school. Oh, wasn't she a sly minx?"

Trix: "I think a little fun is all right; and there's no need of making a talk, if, now and then, some one does run off like Carrie. Boys do as they like; and I don't see why girls need to be kept so dreadfully close. I'd like to see anybody watching and guarding me!" GO TRIX KEEPING GIRLS THE SLIGHTEST BIT “CLOSER’ THAN BOYS IS PSYCHOLOGICALLY HARMFUL AND DISRESPECTFUL. ...I have a lot of feels about gender and child-rearing, okay? Okay. The constant ads for the Blockers movie keep bringing it to mind. (Kathryn Newton, the most recent Amy March, is in it.) The Bostonians gush over some exciting novels; Polly doesn’t know them. Polly: "My mother says a real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman; so I like Mr. Sydney best, because he was kind to me." I want that embroidered. “Polly was not a model girl by any means” Sure, Louisa. The kids say ain’t a lot. Creosote sent my mind straight to Discworld. Polly’s Troubles Polly wished the children would be kinder to grandma; but it was not for her to tell them so, although it troubled her a good deal, and she could only try to make up for it by being as dutiful and affectionate as if their grandma was her own. Awww. The fact that they name their sleds is adorable. Me, I’ve never been a person to name inanimate objects, other than occasionally referring to something as the precious. Fan reads Lady Audley’s Secret. "I shouldn't think you'd make him laugh, when he's always making you cwy," observed Maud, who had just come in. Good one, Maud. Little Things Polly is a perfect child who can do no wrong, except spend some money on bronze boots instead of presents for her family. We learn that she has a dead brother named Jimmy. They studied Latin together so she helps Tom with his. Tom falls off his new velocipede and hits his head. Polly holds it while a doctor gives him stitches. Scrapes AFTER being unusually good, children are apt to turn short round and refresh themselves by acting like Sancho. For a week after Tom's mishap, the young folks were quite angelic, so much so that grandma said she was afraid "something was going to happen to them." I kind of loathe this line of thinking? If you want children to be good, don’t insult them by not trusting them. Polly, if you’ve never had to lie to your parents then you know you have good parents, and not everybody is like you. A boy sends Fanny flowers and that’s unacceptable. “I'll send you to school in a Canadian convent,” says Mr. Shaw. Oh boy. Tom dresses up in Fanny’s outfit, then they and Maud look at Polly’s journal, which is full of sketches of the family and friends, and Polly’s thoughts on Fan. If she would be as she was when I first knew her, I should love her just the same; but she isn't kind to me; and though she is always talking about politeness, I don't think it is polite to treat company as she does me. She thinks I am odd and countrified, and I dare say I am; but I shouldn't laugh at a girl's clothes because she was poor, or keep her out of the way because she didn't do just as other girls do here. I see her make fun of me, and I can't feel as I did; and I'd go home, only it would seem ungrateful to Mr. Shaw and grandma, and I do love them dearly." Grandma Tom was reposing on the sofa with his boots in the air, absorbed in one of those delightful books in which boys are cast away on desert islands, where every known fruit, vegetable and flower is in its prime all the year round; or, lost in boundless forests, where the young heroes have thrilling adventures, kill impossible beasts, and, when the author's invention gives out, suddenly find their way home, laden with tiger skins, tame buffaloes and other pleasing trophies of their prowess. The Shaw kids find Polly up in Grandma’s room, listening to her stories. They’re like you never told us that story and Grandma’s like you never asked. "At eight o'clock on the appointed evening, several of us professed great weariness, and went to our room, leaving the rest sewing virtuously with Miss Cotton, who read Hannah More's Sacred Dramas aloud, in a way that fitted the listeners for bed as well as a dose of opium would have done.”Surprisingly snarky Grandma. "Wait for your turn, Tommy. Now, Polly, dear, what will you have?" said grandma, looking, so lively and happy, that it was very evident "reminiscing" did her good. "Let mine come last, and tell one for Tom next," said Polly, looking round, and beckoning him nearer. Oh come on now Polly. Tom wants to shoot cats? Okay. Polly asks about a glove; Grandma tells the story of Lafayette kissing the glove with his picture on it and then kissing her on the cheek to avoid that. Grandma’s Aunt was married to John Hancock, just like Abigail Alcott’s grand-aunt was married to him in real life. Also she thinks leg o’mutton sleeves are beautiful and becoming. Let’s not hold it against her. Colonel May, that’s LMA’s grandfather. Next we go even further back in history - Grandma produces a letter “written by Anne Boleyn before her marriage to Henry VIII, and now in the possession of a celebrated antiquarian.” How she acquired this letter is not explained, and it does seem to be the original letter and not a copy. Good-by [sic] We get it, Louisa, you think fancy clothes are sinful. They hold a going-away party for Polly, inviting some girls to keep Maud out of the way and Tom’s school-friends, Rumple, Sherry, and Spider. Polly and Tom open the redowa; he’s bad at keeping time to the music, like me. She doesn’t know how to dance the German so she plays with the little girls in the library. Aww, they snuck presents for her family in Polly’s trunk. Six Years Afterward "WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?" exclaimed Fanny, looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading. She’s returning to Boston to teach music. Mr. Shaw respects her for being independent. Tom says she’s pretty in a moment of foreshadowing. Madam Shaw has died. "Where did you learn so much worldly wisdom, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw, as his wife fell back in her chair, and took out her salts, as if this discovery had been too much for her. "I learnt it here, sir," answered Polly, laughing. "I used to think patronage and things of that sort very disagreeable and not worth having, but I've got wiser, and to a certain extent I'm glad to use whatever advantages I have in my power, if they can be honestly got." What is this, the Shaws doing something good for once? Holy hell! “You must come and see my pets, Maud, for my cat and bird live together as happily as brother and sister," said Polly, turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said. "That's not saying much for them," muttered Tom, feeling that Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him. Geez, Tom, entitled much? Tom is engaged to Trix. Polly keeps bees at her country home. It must be so nice to be able to clean without the paranoia that you’re going to get mocked for doing it wrong. All hail living alone! Lessons Polly finds her drudgery a bit harder than she expected but her pupils love her. She found Fanny enduring torment under the hands of the hair-dresser, who was doing his best to spoil her hair, and distort her head with a mass of curls, braids, frizzles, and puffs; for though I discreetly refrain from any particular description, still, judging from the present fashions, I think one may venture to predict that six years hence they would be something frightful. The problem with writing books set in the future. Polly comes home one day to find her landlady, Miss Mills, sewing a dress for Jane, who also lives in the boarding-house and tried to kill herself because she couldn’t find work that paid enough for the rent. Polly goes to visit Jane. Brothers and Sisters Polly’s brother Will visits her every Sunday and they’re BFFs. Tom hates being called Carrots; I want an Anne of Green Gables crossover. Maud informs him that Polly thinks he’s handsomer than Mr. Sydney. "Don't make such a noise, my head aches dreadfully," said Fanny, fretfully. "Girls' heads always do ache," answered Tom, subsiding from a roar into a chuckle. Um, fuck you Tom. He suspects Trix of wearing makeup because she won’t let him kiss her cheek, only “an unsatisfactory peck at her lips.” That’s less satisfying than the cheek? Whatever you say, Tom. Fanny confirms it. He doesn’t approve. Will arrives to take Maud to Polly’s; LMA gets a dig in: “They were very good friends, but led entirely different lives, Will being a "dig," and Tom a "bird," or, in plain English, one was a hard student, and the other a jolly young gentleman. Tom had rather patronized Will, who didn't like it, and showed that he didn't by refusing to borrow money of him, or accept any of his invitations to join the clubs and societies to which Tom belonged. So Shaw let Milton alone, and he got on very well in his own way, doggedly sticking to his books, and resisting all temptations but those of certain libraries, athletic games, and such inexpensive pleasures as were within his means; for this benighted youth had not yet discovered that college nowadays is a place in which to "sky-lark," not to study.” We'll see more of that when we get to Jo’s Boys. Polly talks better than other girls who are coquettes. Seriously. Jesus Christ. Maud has “a talent for betraying trifles which people preferred should not be mentioned in public” and “a queer way of going on with her own thoughts, and suddenly coming out with whatever lay uppermost, regardless of time, place, or company.” Huh. Needles and Tongues Fanny’s sewing circle meets at the Shaw house. Polly listens to them gossip. “Another divulged the awful fact that Carrie P.' s wedding presents were half of them hired for the occasion.” That’s pretty funny. Polly and Trix butt heads over giving charity. “[Trix] felt the same antagonism toward Polly, that Polly did toward her; and, being less generous, took satisfaction in plaguing her. Polly did not know that the secret of this was the fact that Tom often held her up as a model for his fiance to follow, which caused that young lady to dislike her more than ever.” I am not entirely unsympathetic to Trix. Polly tells them about Jane and they’re very moved and resolve to hire her for sewing. Forbidden Fruit Polly, Fanny, and Tom go to the opera. Polly buys new gloves for the occasion and their dog chews them up and she’s like serves me right for buying something I didn’t need. Her new bonnet survives, though, and Tom mentions how becoming it is. "Dress that girl up, and she'd be a raving, tearing beauty," he whispers to Maud, and Polly overhears. A bit of sarcastic fourth wall breaking: I deeply regret being obliged to shock the eyes and ears of such of my readers as have a prejudice in favor of pure English by expressions like the above, but, having rashly undertaken to write a little story about Young America, for Young America, I feel bound to depict my honored patrons as faithfully as my limited powers permit. Otherwise, I must expect the crushing criticism, "Well, I dare say it's all very prim and proper, but it isn't a bit like us," and never hope to arrive at the distinction of finding the covers of "An Old-Fashioned Girl" the dirtiest in the library. Polly wears her hair down, holy shit. Maud comments on what a lovely bride she would be, Tom refers to her as “Mrs. Sydney,” and Fan goes to the carriage “in an usually lofty manner.” Love triangle ahoy. And who should appear at the opera but Arthur Sydney? Polly, on her reaction to heartbreak: "That's not my way either," she said decidedly. "I'd try to outlive it, and if I could n't, I'd try to be the better for it. Disappointment needn't make a woman a fool." Sounds like Rosamund. We are reminded that French novels are evil, and Polly calls Tom a modern Beau Brummel. The Sunny Side Fanny and Tom discuss Polly/Sydney. Tom thinks being a fine lady wouldn’t suit her; Fanny disagrees. Tom realizes his sister likes Sydney and says nothing about it. Polly introduces Fanny to her friends Becky and Bess, two artists who live together. Becky is sculpting “the coming woman” and needs to put a symbol in her hands. Fanny suggests a queen’s sceptre, Polly a man’s helping hand, and Bess a child. Becky turns those down. Kate, an accidentally successful author, suggests a ballot-box. They have a lunch of sardines, oranges, crackers, and cheese, on mismatched plates which one 1860s reviewer found too unfeminine to be realistic. We learn that "Bess is to be married in the spring, and Becky is to live with her." Kate wants to put Polly in a book. Very funny.

Nipped in the Bud Polly inner monologues about how she can’t love Arthur Sydney as a wife should, so she ought to tell him before he proposes. Particularly since he and Fan would suit each other. She changes her route home so as to avoid meeting him, then he sees her coming home from Fanny’s one day and they talk. He says that Fanny hasn’t improved with her years and Polly defends her friend. “She puts on that dashing air before people to hide her real self. But I know her better; and I assure you that she does improve; she tries to mend her faults, though she won't own it, and will surprise you someday, by the amount of heart and sense and goodness she has got." Breakers Ahead Tom gets expelled for knocking down the Chapel watchmen. At least he didn’t need that degree for a job. And Mr. Shaw’s business has failed, and Tom has acquired a significant amount of debt. Oh no. Polly comforts him and then Fanny, who doesn’t actually need much comforting, being glad for the distraction from her unrequited love. Indian cake . . . is that cornbread? A Dress Parade The big house was given up as soon as possible and the little house taken; being made comfortable with the furniture Madam left there when she went to live with her son. The old-fashioned things had been let with the house, and now seemed almost like a gift from Grandma, doubly precious in these troublous times. At the auction, several persons tried to show the family that, though they had lost their fortune, friends still remained, for one bid in Fanny's piano, and sent it to her; another secured certain luxurious articles for Mrs. Shaw's comfort; and a third saved such of Mr. Shaw's books as he valued most, for he had kept his word and given up everything, with the most punctilious integrity. Maud enjoys herself learning to housewife. Polly gives Fanny advice on freshening her wardrobe, such as turning her grey suit. Fanny used to give Maud her old dresses for tableaux. Polly’s story is based on real life. From LMA’s ”Recollections of My Childhood”: People wondered at our frolics, but enjoyed them; and droll stories are still told of the adventures of those days. Mr. Emerson and Margaret Fuller were visiting my parents one afternoon; and the conversation having turned to the ever-interesting subject of education, Miss Fuller said,-- "Well, Mr. Alcott, you have been able to carry out your methods in your own family, and I should like to see your model children." She did in a few moments,--for as the guests stood on the doorsteps a wild uproar approached, and round the corner of the house came a wheelbarrow holding baby May arrayed as a queen; I was the horse, bitted and bridled, and driven by my elder sister Anna, while Lizzie played dog and barked as loud as her gentle voice permitted. All were shouting, and wild with fun, which, however, came to a sudden end as we espied the stately group before us, for my foot tripped, and down we all went in a laughing heap, while my mother put a climax to the joke by saying with a dramatic wave of the hand,-- "Here are the model children, Miss Fuller!" Playing Grandmother Tom has a harder time than his sisters. He’s too bad at business to help his father so he hangs out with Mrs. Shaw. "I'd cut away to Australia if it wasn't for mother; anything, anywhere to get out of the way of people who know me. I never can right myself here, with all the fellows watching, and laying wagers whether I sink or swim. Hang Greek and Latin! wish I'd learned a trade, and had something to fall back upon. Haven't a blessed thing now, but decent French and my fists.” Oh my gosh I think Tom’s a millennial. Polly teaches Maud how to make raisin cake for Tom’s birthday. He receives two letters: one from Trix dumping him, and one from Arthur Sydney saying that’s he’s paid Tom’s debts. Tom, unwilling to owe him, decides to go West, young man, like Polly’s brother Ned. The Woman Who Did Not Dare POLLY wrote enthusiastically, Ned answered satisfactorily, and after much corresponding, talking, and planning, it was decided that Tom should go West. Never mind what the business was; it suffices to say that it was a good beginning for a young man like Tom, who, having been born and bred in the most conservative class of the most conceited city in New England, needed just the healthy, hearty, social influences of the West to widen his views and make a man of him. Polly goes home for the summer, Maud to the shore with Belle, and Fan stays home. I’m pretty sure Polly lives in Concord. Does she know the Marches? She returns to Boston in the fall and Fanny says have you been sick? No, it’s love. Polly gives vague answers and Fan replies that she thinks Sydney is starting to like her. She shows Polly a photo Tom sent and Polly’s face makes her go Aha. Winter passes, and in May Fan and Sydney get engaged. Tom’s Success "Come, Philander, let us be a marching, Every one his true love a searching," would be the most appropriate motto for this chapter, because, intimidated by the threats, denunciations, and complaints showered upon me in consequence of taking the liberty to end a certain story as I liked, I now yield to the amiable desire of giving satisfaction, and, at the risk of outraging all the unities, intend to pair off everybody I can lay my hands on. Tom comes home and tells Polly he loves her. "Now, Tom, how could I know you loved me when you went away and never said a word?" she began, in a tenderly reproachful tone, thinking of the hard year she had spent. "And how could I have the courage to say a word, when I had nothing on the face of the earth to offer you but my worthless self?" answered Tom, warmly. "That was all I wanted!" whispered Polly, in a tone which caused him to feel that the race of angels was not entirely extinct. I suppose if I liked Tom more the romance might work for me but I don’t and it doesn’t. Neither pairing seems to happen naturally, the narrative forces them together. Will marries Jane and Maud remains a spinster, “[keeping] house for her father in the most delightful manner.” The End and I’m glad of it! Next is Little Men.

#an old fashioned girl #louisa may alcott #alcott readathon 2018

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footballdaydream · 4 years ago

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Do you mind doing a mutuals post, why you're loving them etc? We're in desperate need of some love❤️

@sweetlikesugar9 even though we don’t talk that much at the moment she’s still my number one babe. I’m so freaking happy that we started talking and I know she’s just always there for me. 💕

@lawsandother my dutch sister, literally. we have so much in common. i love her so much and I can’t imagine life without her anymore. she’s always there to listen to me, always accepts my weird insta or snapchat posts or my weird thoughts. i can count on her 10000% and I’m so glad that I know this girl. can’t wait to finally meet her one day and go on our girls holiday with sammi. ❤️

@idiotsfc we don’t talk that often either but when we do it’s always a lot of fun. I’m always there for her and I hope she knows it. I love how funny she is, especially when she’s a little tipsy 😉

@trentaafc she’s someone I got to know much better in the last month. she’s such a sweetheart and to know that we also have so much in common even if it’s struggles that we both have, it’s still something great. I hope she knows that she can always talk to me because I’m here to listen. 💛

@alexajanecollins she’s such a positive person and we used to talk now and then but for 3 weeks now we basically text every day and I’m loving it. we also have the same interests and I’m happy that I know her. 🧡

@brewsterbabyy even though we used to talk way more I still love her dearly. she’s helped me out so much whenever I was struggling with something and I always try to be there for her as well. I just think we get each other and that’s great. ❤️

these are some people that I absolutely adore but don’t talk regularly to or not at all and would love to so please hit me up if you see this 😉 @val-manutd @kingkepa @hoellymollywinksy @shockintha @godlymvmi @emwritesfootball @sweetsilversongofthelark @spursondele @lfcsophia @brunomagnifico @manslikeklopp @balenciagastones @avsensio @hanaamylia @footballerimaginess @the-place-to-sparkle @sanchos-dream @englandntposts @bbychilly @lionspridetingz @trentalexanders @qwetyronerty @macybeckham7 @words-for-marcus @travellvogue @chilly-me-softly ❤️

#mutuals

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spotofimagines · 3 years ago

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Rivals Last ~ Jadon Sancho

A/N: So I had this in my drafts before he signed with man united but that's fine, we move, we adapt. A third piece for the @footballffbarbiex summer challenge. Hope you enjoy it :)

Warnings: none - reader is female

Summary: You love both your brothers dearly, but being in the football world with them can make some things a little complicated.

gif by @archivesbvb - gif by @ermuellert - gif by @italynt

Being a footballer meant living in a special world. Being in a footballing family meant living in a special world too. Being the younger sister of Lucas and Theo Hernandez meant living in a really special world. But nobody told you just how crazy it would be for all three of those things to apply to you.

You truly love watching your older brothers play football. They teach you something new during every match you see; even though you play as a striker, their movements and handling of the ball always inspire you to play better. After all, it was their defensive skills that helped you become a good goal scorer growing up since they never let a tackle go unchallenged in the park and you had to find out how to manoeuvre around them. A lot easier said than done.

Currently Lucas is signed with Bayern Munich. In his time there so far, he has learnt the heritage, history, and importance of wearing the badge and defending its honour in every match they play, especially derbies. Having supported Lucas, it quickly became easy for you to support Bayern Munich too and celebrate their victories like it was your own team. You'd always managed to do it with the clubs both your brothers played for, letting the atmosphere of the fanbase carry you away.

You have just finished your second season in England with Manchester City women's team. You'd settled in nicely now, having learnt a lot of the English language and culture already. The experience was made so much easier because of the help given by your welcoming teammates and the staff that translated things into French and Spanish during your first months there.

Fans were a little disappointed during the 2019 summer transfer window when it was confirmed all three Hernandez siblings would be leaving Spain to play separately in England, Germany and Italy, joking that no one could know what might happen with you all so far away. However, to you, it made things easier, as Lucas and Theo would stop making so many awful jokes about each other's clubs, only to join forces to diss your club even more afterward. Now the only connection you have to the clubs you all play for is the want for your sibling to win with them. And it is a great feeling. A welcome change of pace.

But no new change to your life felt as good as your blossoming "relationship", situationship, whatevership, you have with Jadon Sancho.

It all started with you flirting back and forth on social media, which turned itself into countless hours of DMs no one else could see. You congratulated his goals and he congratulated your wins. All the light-hearted teasing and the warm-hearted compliments stayed in your own little bubble. The only thing peeking out was your silly inside rule that if you were going to comment on a post, it had to be emojis only, stretching to a few words if you really couldn't help yourself - but it would earn you taunts from the other for the rest of the night.

Some eagle-eyed fans noticed how you'd been liking each other's posts every time they appeared for a while now, but it just added to the fun and thrill you got from flirting with him so much.

You weren't meant to be forming a bond with Jadon. He played for your brother’s rival. He was supposed to be the enemy. Someone you should dislike with a snap of your fingers. Certainly not a boy to fall for like you have.

You couldn't help yourself. Lucas and Theo had helped you since you moved to England by being the steady rocks they always were, cheering you on from afar. Your new teammates had helped you since you moved to England by introducing fun things for you all to do together and taking you under their wings. But Jadon had helped you in a different kind of way. He gave you a new kind of comfort and reassurance when you talked. He became someone to turn to with all your interesting news and your curious problems. He told you the good places to visit around the city that he remembered from his time there and taught you English slang to make your teammates laugh. You spoke three languages to varying degrees now, and you'd managed to pick up more German vicariously through Lucas in two years faster than Jadon had done living in Germany in four years, so you'd clue him into rude German phrases you had asked Lucas about, alongside the French and Spanish swear words he used more often than English ones now when you text.

Even though a language barrier comes up once in a while, you have both learnt behaviours from each other and crave the contact you share. Jadon was starting to drop everything to send replies to you, a change his teammates have noticed and jokingly mock him for. Little did they know the unknown girl they joke he is smitten over is the sister of their rival.

Theo is the one in your family you usually tell about the boys you go out with; boyfriends and dates have been shared with him since you were 13 and doting on your first crush. He does the same with his girlfriends; asking advice and telling you more than you need to know at times. So, when you all went home for a bit of family time around Christmas, nothing could stop him from noticing the tell-tale signs that you had something going on. He already figured out through persistence that it was another player you were getting involved with, and his insistent questioning hasn't stopped in his search for who the player is.

But you keep it hidden from Lucas, and you don't know when you'll tell him. He has been your protector since you were kids, comforting you on sad nights when no one else was there, teaching you little secrets about how to navigate through the world, he even punched a boy who teased you once at school. The idea of telling him you were chatting romantically to another player would be trouble enough, but telling him it was a Dortmund player might just end up in another schoolground incident. You hadn't wanted Theo to know for fear he'd go dishing your dirt to Lucas, but he discovered it on his own and there was nothing you could do.

Who knows what might become of this thing you have with Jadon, and lord knows your eldest brother owns a hard as nails death stare that just might do Jadon in, but for now you actually quite like having the secret. A little mystery tucked away up your sleeve.

The rush you always get when Lucas calls your phone as you're typing a text to the Englishman, feeling as though the first words from the other end will be shouts of how he knows everything and he'll never speak to you again for keeping it a secret, fills you with dread at times. But it never is the reason he calls, and it turns out he is just making plans or has something funny to tell you. But the way your heart thumps as you go back to texting Jadon, that is part of the chase you have to admit you enjoy.

Hardcore fans online have noticed the past few months that when you do interviews in English, the odd slang term comes up during jokes - terms you hadn't used before and stem more from London boroughs than northen towns - so speculation of how you'd learnt these things easily coincided with dating rumors.

Lucas had seen the speculation online; seen fans trying to put your interactions with the Dortmund player together through both your instagram stories and comments and the tweets you both had liked about the other. Lucas had even grown suspicious of the little questions you asked him about Germany, German phrases and his lifestyle there, not knowing why you would need nor want to know those things. But Lucas doesn't believe it. He knows that you know better to mix with a Dortmund boy.

Sometimes an older brother just doesn't get it quite right…

Soon, the chance will come to really see if your connection is something you can build on. Jadon's new signing with Manchester United has been confirmed and he will be moving back to England. It is a great opportunity to get to see him more often, rather than the odd rendezvous point or clandestine trip during small breaks in the season. You'll spend more time face to face instead of over the phone. You'll get to wake up in his bed and him in yours, without needing to sneak away from hotel rooms afterwards. You'll maybe even get to go on a proper date, just the two of you, where you can flirt across the table your joined hands rest upon. Hanging out with Jadon won't be the first time you've spent time together in person. However, getting a full day with only the two of you where you won't have to pretend you hardly know who he is, and you won't have to pretend your eyes aren't meeting across the group of people you're in - it fills your stomach with knots and butterflies.

A certain pressure has fallen off you now Jadon has no growing rivalry with Lucas, but not completely. You won't be able to take back the way their teams made the other feel in the past, but the fact there won't be more of it next season comforts you a little. The biggest thing that will hold you back from going public before the new season starts will be the media, but that is an issue you can't even begin to worry about yet. You are too caught up in the excitement of being in the same town as Jadon to care. Rumours are spinning crazier than ever about you two as some of your liked tweets about his move got reposted by sports pages and fan blogs - now joking about him being your rival instead of your brother's - and yet it didn't stop you, no longer all that bothered about keeping a low profile now you both will be living away from Lucas. If he gets mad, all he will be able to do is shout down the phone, and whilst you never want that to happen, you know the time to flourish with Jadon and capitalise on the foundation you have already built is better than ever, brothers be damned.

There are big changes coming for the both of you, yet one thing will remain the same no matter the outcome of your relationship. You can't quite stop being football rivals.

#jadon sancho #lucas hernandez #theo hernandez #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho x reader #football #football imagine #oneshot #my fic #my og post

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