#New England Open Markets

[intertexts]

scores from my once yearly jewelry expenditure !!!

[no-144444]

Admin looking for love! - c.sainz

Day 17 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Why did Alex Albon feel the need to post you on his story as a ‘lonely woman looking for love’? And why did Carlos Sainz dm you after it? 

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alexalbon

liked by carlossainz, williamsracing, reallyy/n, and 2,398,234 others

alexalbon: Are you a Monaco man looking for love? Look no further! Presenting Y/n Y/l/n, a lonely woman looking for love! She's a williams marketing manager (and also my assistant sometimes!), she drives a motorbike, and she's super mean but sometimes really nice! (Real enquiries only, don't be a creep please :) @/really/n

user63: I know Y/n is LIVID rn.

reallyy/n: alex albon, I will kill you with my bare hands don't pull this shit with me right now.

lilymhe: DOG HOUSE -> alexablon: COME ON I'M TRYING TO HELP HER -> reallyy/n: Alex start running. -> alexalbon: you're literally in england right now -> reallyy/n: boarding my plane to monaco. -> alexalbon: FUCK.

oscarpiastri: when do we get you back to the psych ward @/alexalbon ? -> landonorris: Don't make fun of your elders, at least let him leave instagram with a little bit of dignity.

georgerussell: Mate, take it down already she's going to hurt you -> alexalbon: I don't know how, she usually does my social media :(

zhouguanyo: awful choice, I posted her once and she took away all internet devices and made me think about what I'd done for 4 hours (aka staring at a wall for 4 hours). -> alexalbon: YIKES Y/N I'M SORRY PLZ

user46: she's so pretty

user97: QUEEN Y/N

user56: thank you alex for these CRUMBS of y/n please make her get on the podium if williams stops fucking around

user267: SHE'S GORGEOUS WTF liked by carlos sainz

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f1gossip

liked by pierregasly, and 567,038 others

f1gossip: Williams CMO (chief marketing officer) Y/n Y/l/n was auctioned off today by none other than Alex Albon. In an instagram post he said: Are you a Monaco man looking for love? Look no further! Presenting Y/n Y/l/n, a lonely woman looking for love! She's a williams marketing manager, she drives a motorbike, and she's super mean but sometimes really nice! (Real enquiries only, don't be a creep please :)

user47: why is she so gorgeous she looks like a fucking WAG liked by carlossainz

user88: Is that not alex's WAG? ->user67: no she just works for williams and they're close.

user99: HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY WHAT

user75: she's such a queen

user33: If i had a face like that I'd be a model! -> user22: RIGHT? LIKE SHE'S SOOOO GORG

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You knocked on Alex's door with as much force as you could. Why the fuck would he post that? It was all over the internet- you were all over the internet. Every F1 gossip page was shipping you with some random driver, or some random f1-adjacent celebrity. You were livid, and rightfully so. He had no reason to do anything like this, to pull a stunt like that. Honestly, you could just kill him-

"Hello?" Alex grimaced as he stared at you. He knew all hell was about to break loose.

"Alexander Phillipe Albon Ansusinha," you spoke calmly, too calmly. His stomach turned. "Give me your phone."

he handed it over, no question, no hassle.

You quickly deleted the post, deleted instagram, then turned his phone off completely. From inside your bag, you handed him a nokia flip phone. "It already has everyones numbers on it. Don't fucking try to buy a new one, or else I'll freeze all of your cards. Understand?"

He nodded, accepting his fate. "Understand."

"Don't ever pull some shit like that again, alright?" you scolded.

He nodded, his head down. "I got some responses..." he mumbled after a few seconds of silence.

"Alex-!" you were completely prepared to fully scream at him, but suddenly the door behind you swung open and revealed Carlos Sainz. He looked dumbfounded by the two of you and went red. "I'm sending you for 4 weeks worth of mandatory PR training," you turned back to Alex. "I'm so sick of your shit. Between this and Franco's inability to keep it in his pants, I'll be backlogged till Christmas. Just stop causing trouble, ok?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Ok."

You turned back to Carlos. "Sorry about the noise."

He shook his head. "No, that's alright."

"Did you need something?" Alex asked.

Carlos shook his head, his eyes trained on you.

You. He'd seen you around the paddock for years. He'd watched you from afar, unaware of his growing feelings for you until they sucker-punched him in the face about 4 months ago when he was visiting the williams HQ to finish up the contract signing, and there you were in that gorgeous black dress. He couldn't even talk to you. It was embarrassing.

"Alright, well, goodbye Alex, bye Carlos," you smiled at the both of them (the smile Alex got was a bit more disingenuous than the one you gave Carlos) and off you went.

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He knew he had to do something before someone else swooped in. He knocked on Alex's door, more nervous than he thought he'd be.

"Hey Carlos-" Alex smiled.

"Is Y/n single?"

Alex smirked. "She is, yeah."

"May I have her number?"

"Yes Carlos," Alex has the smuggest smirk he'd ever seen. "Yes you may."

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It had been quite the day. You'd been catching up with friends when Carlos fucking Sainz texted you, and then you were on your way to a date with him.

What a fucking day.

You finished up you makeup just as the doorbell rang, and you smiled when you opened it. There he was, standing there with a big bunch of flowers and a goofy smile.

"Hi," you smiled. "Come in."

"Hi," he smiled back. "I got these for you."

He handed over the flowers and you grinned at him. "Thank you, that was very thoughtful."

"Pretty girls deserve pretty flowers," he shrugged.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, and you absented yourself to put the flowers in water.

"So, what do you like to do?" He asked, coming up behind you.

"I like films, I like to ride my bike, I like reading, I like motorsport, I like a lot of things. You?"

"Well, I love motorsports, obviously, and I love golf as well," he smirked at the way you grimaced. "Not a golf fan?"

"It's just a little bit boring for me," you admitted. "I do play tennis and padel though. And I played volleyball back when I was in college."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to make you like golf," he smirked.

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reallyy/n

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz, alexalbon and 798,374 others

reallyy/n: alex albon-> part time f1 driver, full time matchmaker apparently. happy 6 months @/carlossainz (still hate golf btw)

limited comments.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[bahrtofane]

flics and feelings

your job becomes exponentially harder when jude comes into the picture. Literally.

jude x wc!photographer

Word count : 3.2K+

Watch it : suggestive language, skinny dipping, light angst but happy ending !!

Hope you enjoy <3 !!

—--

You're a sports photographer who's just been added to the list of the england national team. Not just for friendlies no no, you're going to the world cup.

You've done a few things here and there for them during friendlies and public appearances and the hard work has seemed to pay off ! 

You can't stop smiling and bouncing around from pure joy after you open the email informing you. This is the chance, the opportunity, the place and time to really make a name for yourself and put your foot out there in the market and world.

You truly believe that this is your calling. It does help that the team isn't bad eye candy either. You'd be blind to argue with that. But nonetheless you must stay professional !

—--

Your professionalism goes down the drain thanks to one very hands, flirty, and mouthy Jude Bellingham. 

It's his fault really. 

It started as nothing more but curiosity to look at the raw pictures you took of him at training. That soon escalated to teasing words, and hands straying away from your camera and to your own. 

He had kissed you for the first time after the first game, under the cover of the locker room long after most people had gone. Gently taking your face in his hands and giving your lips a kiss so tender you wonder if it was even real sometimes.

You're playing a risky game now, you know. But his smile is worth every moment. And besides, your boss has been complimenting your shots lately. Calling them a “raw glimpse into the truth of bellingham.” Whatever that means.

To be honest you don't really know where this new found relationship even stands, fleeting or otherwise you don't have the guts to challenge it in fear of losing him too soon. 

—--

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep

You groan, stretching meekly to find the source of whatever is ruining your sleep, and in the process elbow Jude in the stomach. 

“Ah, sorry baby.” You rasp, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. 

He stifles a groan, looking up at you meekly. “ ‘S okay, just ‘m alarm,'' Flopping back into his face dramatically. 

You sigh, lying back down. That means you also have to get up and ready soon. The suns not even out yet but you have to be ? Unbelievable, truly. 

You spend the little time you have scrolling through social media and answering emails while Jude sleeps soundly next to you as cozy as ever. 

When his second alarm goes off, you give him gentle kisses to the tips of his cheeks and nose to help him wake up. But all you get is him dragging you back down into the covers with him. 

'Little more..” He babbles hanging into you and any covers he can reach. 

You flick his arm gently, “We have to get going, especially you, don't want Saka beating you out there again?”

He gets up at this and narrows his eyes at you, “I think you've taken a fancy to him more than me now.”

You chuckle, “Uh huh, sure. It's his bed I'm in right now right ?’

He opens his mouth to argue but settles for getting out of bed and sulking to the bathroom. 

You take this as a sign to get ready yourself. Getting dressed and making a metal note for the equipment you'll need to grab from your own room. 

Jude walks out of the bathroom toothbrush hanging from his mouth and motions for your turn, giving your hip a little squeeze as you walk by. 

He's all dressed, save for the toothbrush, by the time you walk out. Ducking back into the bathroom when you're done. You take a moment to appreciate him, so pretty. 

“You look good.” You smile.

“Thank you love,” He leans in to give you a quick peck, “ i'll see you later yeah?”

You nod watching him leave. 

—--

You come back to find him nowhere to be seen, but you have more than enough pictures to make the whole photo team happy for a year. You spend the rest of the night editing them and sending them off to your list of clientele. Mainly online papers and twitter if you're being honest, but hey it gets the job done and keeps you fed.  

You wonder just how far England will go, just how long you can pretend to have Jude in these fleeting moments you share thousands of miles away from home. 

The door opens as you're knee deep in emails to reveal one very bouncy Jude. 

“What's got you in such a good mood ?”

“You.” He grins.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm , you looked really good today.”

“Oh please, all I was doing was crouching on the side lines and sweating.”

“And yet you looked so hot doing it.” he pokes your side.

You roll your eyes and him, swatting his hand away and turning your focus back to emails on emails on emails. He plops himself down next to you, kicking his shoes off and wiggling dramatically. 

“I wanna show you something when you're done.” He blurts. 

That's all the motivation you need to speed through all your work for tonight.

He takes your hand in his, against your harsh whispers that someone might see, he doesn't care one bit. Only dragging you along more dramatically.

He takes you down hallways and loops of the hotel you haven't been able to get to yet, up a short spiral staircase to a single elevator that doubt will fit the both of you. But he makes it work. Pressing you up to his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He's so warm, radiating more heat than a damn fireplace, but it feels nice against the brisk hotel ac. He tilts his head while staring at your lips, and you've come to know exactly what he wants. You give it to him. How could you not. 

You bring your faces together, a hand on the back of his neck, to pull him impossibly close to you. He always lets you set the pace, plush lips hesitating before opening enough to meet your tongue. 

Too bad the elevator ding interrupts, he's blushing now, you can see and feel the heat radiating from his face as he hastily pulls away. 

But he still finds the courage to pull you out of the tiny elevator gingerly, leading you to what you think is the hotel rooftop. It's gorgeous, honestly. Small patio like area with white couches and chairs facing an electric dome fireplace.  A small swimming pool in the far corner overlooking the city, and a blanket layed out in the artificial grass. Pillows, snacks and all. 

You’re silent for a moment trying to figure this out, figure him out. 

He takes your hand in his, gently leading you to the blanket before you can over think any longer. Letting you sit down and looking at you with too much fondness than you can handle. 

“I don't…” You begin.

He only smiles at you, “I wanted to spend time with you. Proper time that's not in my hotel room or behind the locker room.”

You can only stare at him in disbelief. You can't remember the last time anyone let alone a man, and one you were romantically interested in, doing something so sweet for you. 

Your voice fails you, as well as basic thinking it seems as you launch yourself at him. Smothering not only Jude but the chips in between you. He only lets out giggles when his back hits the ground, letting you do as you please while rubbing your back.

“Thank you so much, really. It means a lot.” You finally choke out.

He gets up immediately, taking you by the shoulders and staring right at you. “Don't do that. Don't cry. Please.”

Your bottom lip only wobbles harder as you try to hold back the tears, but they come all too soon as you sniffle. “ ‘M not sad. Really happy. You make me happy.” You mumble, head now smushed on his shoulder.

“Hey it's okay, take your time love, we've got all night.” 

And all night you do have. By the time your tears have dried Jude makes you try every single snack and little treat he hauled up here. 

You notice a pile of towels sitting at the edge of one of the pool chairs and raise an eyebrow, “What are those for?”

“In case, you wanna swim.” He shrugs face full of chewy gummies. Sugar free fat free everything free it seems. Nutritions orders. 

“Can we ?” You turn to him expectedly.

“Why not.” He smiles.

You don't take a second longer, taking off your shoes and other accessories. Tip toeing at the edge of the pool before his voice stops you.

“You're gonna swim in those ?”

“Im mean yeah. I didn't bring a change.”

He only shrugs, wiggling out of his own clothes faster than you can stop him. “What are you doing?’ You hiss 

“Uh swimming ?”

“Naked ??”

“Not like it's anything you haven't seen before.” He bumps your shoulder with his, giggling. 

“You're unbelievable. What if someone sees?”

He shrugs, getting in the pool. “Oh they won't, I got that covered with hotel staff already. No ones gonna bother us up here.”

He turns to you after the water is up to his navel, motioning with a hand for you to join. 

Really the problem isn't the situation at hand, skinny dipping seems like great fun really, the problem lies with the man who you're in this predicament with. He's all but invaded your heart and mind at this point. He's just, so, everything you've ever wanted and more. Sweet smiles and even sweeter words, teasing but still kind, always making room for you in his life. During the goddamn world cup of all things. Hard working to his core.

The way he looks at you while you tell him the most mundane things about your day makes your head spin, the care he takes into looking out for you is unmatched by anyone. You are so gone for him

He gives you a concerned look, “You don't have to really it's no pressure we can-”

Fuck it.

You toss your clothes to the side faster than you can change your mind about it and slide your way into the freezing water

“It’s fucking freezing what the hell.“

He only strides closer to you, gently lacing your hands together and pulling you further in, where the water now comes to your collar bones.

“I got you” He murmurs.

You shiver and shake at the water, ”M still cold.”

But he only presses himself impossible close to under the water

“Well, let me warm you up then” He barely whispers while your chests are flush together, his hands on either side of your face. 

Gently bringing your lips together once more.

—--

Once the two of you have had more than enough fun trying to drown each other he swaddles you up in big fluffy towels and lays down next to you on the blanket, star gazing. 

“See, that one's Orion.” He breathes out into the night air.

You hum, burying your face where a bit of his shoulder peaks from his towel. It's warm okay. When you yawn for the third time in a row does he bring up heading back down. 

“You've had a long day, come on.” He nudges your arm. 

You give in, groaning, getting up reluctantly and putting your clothes back on. He tidies up while you tussle with your shoes for a second before joining you at the foot of the elevator. The ride down is a comfortable silence and you swing your joined hands while you walk back to your room.

The moment you step into the room do you collapse into the bed, completely drained. He still makes you get up for a quick shower to rinse the chlorine off. Letting you get into bed first while he does the same after.

You're halfway to dreamland when you feel the bed dip and his familiar warmth envelop you. A gentle kiss on the forehead is the last thing you remember before crashing soundly.

—--

Jude won't admit it but he's definitely started favoring your side more often during games. Whenever there's a celebration he always looks over to you. You try not to make it too obvious and just hunker down, shove your camera in your face and think of something odd to keep you from smiling. 

Your go to recently has been imagining Klopp with fingers for hair. Bizarre. 

It all ends too soon when England gets knocked out by France. 

You can see the disappointment and anger in him. 

“I really thought we had a chance.” He mumbles into your neck later that night.

“Hey it's okay, what's done is done. No use stressing out on the past when there's so much future in front of you.” You try to comfort him.

He sniffles and shrugs. Not wanting to say more. You're set to leave in a day. Then what ?

He begs you to stay, “Just one more night, please.”

Just one more then, one more and you go back to the redundant life you lived before all of this. Before you even felt him utter bliss on your skin. You wonder what his type really is, what are the people he chooses to truly make his. What kind of lovers would move mountains for and shout sappy poetry from the rooftops just to see them smile.

You suppose you should be happy to even have this kind of encounter. Count your blessings, cant have your cake and eat it, blah blah blah. You want him. Now and forever more. 

You don't say any of this, instead choosing to hold his hand gently while he curls up next to you. 

—--

The day the team is set to leave you dont see much of him really. You're too busy counting and recounting all your supplies and making sure you have all the right paperwork for the very heavy and very expensive equipment you're about to embark with.

You have about a week before you're off to Italy for some fancy car races on the coast. You're going to mope and sulk in that time you can feel it. 

You're making your last trip to give the luggage guy your set when you run into Jude. 

“Oh hi, you're leaving already ?”

“Ah no just taking my equipment to the lobby. It always flies before I do.” You try to smile.

He nods, a little solemnly.

“Am I gonna see you at mine later ?’

“Yeah, maybe.”

And with that you take off. You honestly don't expect to ever see him again if not for work. At least this can be a cute story you can tell to friends back home.

—--

Not a cool story at all because you have just realized that you've forgotten your really nice and expensive headphones in his room. Good lord. They were a gift from you to you on your birthday last year when you had a lot of videos to edit and needed to be able to listen to any variation in sound. 

You can not buy those again. 1, the money. 2, you're attached. 

But good god is it going to be awkward just waltzing in there. Maybe you can just ask room service. No to creepy. Text him ? twice as awkward.

Oh fuck, guess going back up to his room it is.

You feel like some stalker creeping around the halls, even though you've been here plenty of times. Now it feels entirely different. Like youre no longer welcome here. But damn do you need your headphones back.

With a deep breath you knock on the door as friendly as a knock can get, and it opens almost immediately. 

“Hi! I'm glad you came.” He beams.

You don't have the heart to tell him it's only for your headphones, you walk in away. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed. You notice everythings been tidied up and organized, there's only his suit cases left standing in the corner. 

He joins you not long after, playing with his fingers idly. Waiting for you to say something, anything. 

“Is something wrong?” He tries.

“No, no, nothing. Just came to say bye and look for my headphones is all.” You mumble. 

He frowns,“There's something up.”

“No.”

“Yes there is. Why else are you acting like you don't know me and you've never been in this room.”

“Because that's what it feels like Jude. We had our little fun and now it's over we go our separate ways.” You have finally reached your tipping point.

He only looks back at you hurt,“Is that what you think this is?”

“Is it not?”

“God no, why would I rent out the roof of this hotel just to stargaze and goof around in the pool with you. Did that mean nothing?”

“It meant everything to me. I told you as much.”

“Then why are you acting like this now?”

“I'm scared. I'm scared when I leave this room and we leave the country. That'll be it. That i’ll never get to have this again.” You whisper.

“Love,” He takes your hand in yours, “I truly want something with you. More than a fling more than a work romance more than whatever you've been thinking of it as. I’ll book a flight to meet you when you land right now if you want. Just say the word.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course. I'm serious. You said it yourself no use stressing over the past when there's so much future. And I want you to be my future. If you'll have me.” He gives you a small smile. 

“Of course i'll have you Jude. You're so incredible I can't even put it into words. I want a future that has an us, I want you to be mine as much as I'll be yours.”

This time it's he who rushes to tackle you into the bed, bombarding your face in kisses while you squeak and give soft punches to his arms in a futile attempt to get him off. 

He finally does and rushes to fish his laptop out of his suitcase, immediately going to his flight information and adding a connecting flight faster than you've seen most people function. 

In the time it takes for him to find his passport you find your headphones, neatly tucked away in the bedside drawer. That makes a lot of sense.

You lean on his shoulder watching the last bit of information go in before he clicks confirm, looking up to smile at you. 

“I'll see you when I land in your city then ?” 

“Yes you will pretty boy.” You murmur, with one final kiss goodbye. Or more a see you soon kiss.

You walk out of the room not only with your fancy headphones but a lovely man to call your own.

[scotianostra]

On July 4th 1834, the designer Christopher Dresser was born.

Born in Glasgow he studied at the Government School of Design in London, specialising in botanical studies, before starting his own studio around 1860.

His career was built on designing for an expanding professional class consumer market and he achieved critical success in 1899 when Studio magazine described him as, ‘Perhaps the greatest of commercial designers, imposing his fantasy and invention upon the ordinary output of British Industry’.

From the 1870s Christopher Dresser also became a brand as his products carried his name, which was associated with good taste.

Dresser was an industrial designer before the profession had been invented, a man who found new ways of designing for production that few of his contemporaries could have imagined. He grasped both the properties of materials and the processes of production and adapted his designs and aesthetics to them brilliantly.

He is now widely known as one of the first and most important, independent, designers and was a pivotal figure in the Aesthetic Movement, and a major contributor to the allied Anglo-Japanese or Modern English style; both originated in England and had long lasting international influence.

Dresser provided designs for some 60 companies. Among the most notable were Wedgwood, Minton and the Ault and Linthorpe potteries. In 1880, Dresser founded the Art Furnishers’ Alliance (AFA), opening premises at 157, New Bond Street the following year.

As with most great Victorians, Dresser’s reputation plummeted after his death in 1904 and he was virtually forgotten by the 1930s, but some of his metalwork designs are still in production, such as his oil and vinegar sets and toast rack designs.

Christopher Dresser died at Mulhouse, Alsace, France, 24th November 1904.

Of hs designs I like the "Clutha Vae" in the second pic, it is part of the collection in Museum of Applied Arts, Budapest.

[simp-ly-writes]

Friend of the Captain (pt.3)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader

Summary: Fate keeps pulling its strings, but your's and Eddies appear to be drifting further and further apart- only to see one another at weddings or funerals. But maybe one day, luck will be in your side and then something beautiful can flourish (with a side of cash, of course).

Warnings: 5000~ words, language and light teasing, angst (emotional, alcohol and drug usage, dark thoughts) to fluff, jealousy, and pining (of course).

A/N: Apologies for the wait everyone! A few timings changed but I need plot- okay.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | somewhat un-edited.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ "...you're the best friend I could have ever asked for," your words stung, shattering Eddie's heart beyond repair as his face twitched before hiding it in your palm. He made a promise as a child, to always have you in his life yet even as you got closer together, the more he realized how far apart your both were as that moment became a mere distant memory. Eddie was needy for more yet you had already packed up your bags, closed the estate for the summer and went off to find new inspiration worldwide.

↳ He ended up reading a few of the gossip articles his mother left on the coffee table one morning, hot pink, zoomed in features and question marks galore as you walked around in beach wear with another man on your arm. He gripped the magazine, throwing it back on the table before packing his bags and returning back to base.

↳ When Christmas came around once again, you were not at the estate- a newfound tradition it seemed yet your gifts were still left under the tree, perfectly wrapped with each Horniman getting a gift. Eddie looked at the professionally wrapped gift, chuckling to himself at the childish wrapping paper you always insisted on using. This Christmas it was a bunch of little green cars with elf's behind the wheel.

Tearing into the gift, Eddie pauses as he slowly turns the box open to find a custom engraved watch. Flipping it backwards, his finger traces over the engraving- "Always." His mother peers over his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear as she inspects the jewelry. "I'm jealous, Edward," she teases, as Charlotte mockingly coo's- loving as her brother's cheeks paint themselves a pinkish hue. Freddy is already drowning himself in the new bottle of liquor your most recent boyfriend was the owner of its production before Tammy demands her own fair share of the drink.

--

↳ More years had passed and it was September already. You had yet to go back to dating, stepping away from romance scene at the current news that rocked your world, sending you crashing towards the floor as you fell into your office chair. Gripping your hair, tears streamed endlessly from your eyes as one of your assistants rapidly books the private jet back home to England- both of your parents were just announced dead to the public before you had known privately.

They were on a charity meeting with local schools and had crashed in their helicopter- dying instantly. You felt sick, seeing their bodies broadcasted over live television, smoke exiting from the aircraft as you lunged towards the toilets and threw up your lunch. "The plane has been booked, ma'am," your assistant calls from behind the door as you dress in full black and head towards the airstrip.

↳ You were surprised to find a series of reporters already waiting for you on the runway. Putting on your newest mock-design of sunglasses- it was going to be your first break into another market. Lights flashed in your face, hands racing to pull you into their microphones and endless questions yet the airport staff were not trained for a mob of this size.

They bursted through, making you fall towards the ground as you curled up into a ball- doing your best to avoid being trampled further. You quickly worked your hands through your pockets, clicking the power button thrice in quick succession as your first emergency contact was called and before you knew it- Freddy and Tammy were bursting through the crowd, fists raised as reporters fled the scene.

They were dressed in head to toe in black, ready to take you back towards your family's estate and to the funeral. You stood at the front, head tipped low as your flowing black dress drifted in the crisp cold air. It clung to your bones, finding any skin you had yet to hide as you silently cried, head leaning towards Charlottes already waiting presence as she whispered her condolences to you before pulling away.

You blinked rapidly, doing your best to dry your cheeks as a warm body at your back had you raising an eyebrow, especially when their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a strong hug as your skin became tickled by their stubble. "I came as soon as I could," Eddie spoke over the wind, watching as everyone started making their way towards their cars as light rainfall began to come down.

You turned yourself around in his arms, cries turning into laughter as you shook your head into his shoulder, hands gripping the fabric of his suit, threatening to tear it apart just as you forced yourselves apart. You shook your head, taking another step back as you continued to laugh, Eddie took a large stride forward, head lowering in worry- trying to catch your eyes as your hair began to fall over your face. Taking a sharp sniffle you spoke in even tones, "We only see each other at weddings or funerals, Edward."

"Darling I-" you hold up a hand, shaking your head once more as you take another step back, Eddie moves forward as you dance around one another, rain falling heavier as you walk yourself under a tree canopy. "I made a promise to my father years ago, he wanted me to stop talking with you- begged me on his deathbed that I was unknowing of recently. I made a compromise of being friends yet... If these are the times we find each... Edward I-"

"Please, don't call me Edward," Eddie cuts you off, heart racing as he processes the information you speak. I always knew that old man hated me from the start, business over pleasure any day of the week, Eddie thought to himself. Hands now grasping your shaking shoulders as you can't support yourself with the overwhelming grief- falling forward into his arms. "Eddie," you whisper out in a pleading tone yet unknowing of what you wanted.

Before you both could think further on the subject, your lawyers were demanding of your presence to sign the papers, as the only child of your parents. You were the Duchess of the estate now as the endless sea of documents and hearings suggested. And those small hugs and words sat still underneath that tree, rooted in place as Eddie got called back to work and in the trauma of it all, you were glad everyone left- wanted everyone to leave you alone.

The cameras everywhere started to become too much, the people constantly checking in- tip-toeing around you, as if you would break with their soft tones and bittersweet, pity-filled smiles that mocked the constant aching of your heart and mind. Articles floated around, showing old pictures, telling the world of how you were living the high life with dead money but you had money, you had fame, before this all and now, you wanted to escape it all.

--

↳ That man you were with was an old picture, that boat party was in early spring and that engagement ring was false news as you threw your phone across the room as it shattered against the tiles. In reality you were sat in your bathtub, barley breathing above the water. You have been feeling an overwhelming numbness in your present and soon enough, you were pulling at everything to just FEEL something these days.

Looking down at your hand, the family crest engraved ring upon your finger sat heavy as you came to realize what such titles costed. Someone was yelling your name from the other side of the door, pounding against the heavy wood as you sunk under, watching the bubbles of your breath break the surface of the water above.

You close your eyes, emptying your lungs before coming back up to the surface and clearing the hair from your eyes. You drain the tub, wet feet pattering against the marble floors and towards the vanity- your gear already waiting for you as you got strapped in and flung the door open.

↳ Determine to FEEL you tested drugs, tested alcohol but they both lost their kick. You tried sleeping around again yet could never get off, so you drove down country streets as fast as you could, jumped out of planes, flung yourself off cliffs and climbed up mountains.

↳ Your business was running in the background as you let it run itself. You sent all the staff home for the remainder of the year with their wages at the estate as you walked the line between fear and adrenaline.

↳ Sabrina had called you after receiving news of you being in the hospital. You had fractured your shoulder from a skiing incident, you smiled through the drugs, holding a thumbs up for the picture as she cried at the image. You looked so lifeless with those eyes, your skin appearing grey as a walking corpse yet you could care less. People still wanted to sleep with you, to "live that high life" and you allowed them to just as every paper told you to.

↳ What surprised you was seeing Freddy out of all people telling you off by your bedside. Tammy nowhere to be seen as he gripped your hand- pleading. You look at him blankly in the eyes, almost falling asleep to what you have heard a thousand times before. Yet there is one question that catches you off guard, your neck straining as you quickly look away to hide the tears beginning to stream down your face.

"W-What would Eddie think of you right now? He's off somewhere, probably getting shot at- thinkin' that his job was ensuringhis girl is safe at home. What a fuckin' joke (name), if you are gonna listen to anything I say, know that you are a joke- and thats coming from the definition of it."

You shake your head, now playing with the various cords in your hands, threatening to rip them out as you choke back a sob. "I'm sorry, Freddy, I'm so sorry for being such a fuckin' mess," you sputter between your lips, taking shallow breaths as your heart monitor rapidly beeps, nurses running into the room as Freddy stands up from his seat as positions himself at the foot of your bed.

"Yeah, well saying you are is a great step, now make something of it because I can't deal with all these crying people. Fathers health is gone- I think this is it..."

--

↳ Under a year later, Eddies father had passed. You remember never driving more of a wildly than then down the country roads, almost clipping a gate in the process as you opened the door with your own key. Staggering into the new dukes office and sitting by the fire once more as you held his head in your lap, he clenched onto your waist- crying before a knock at the door had him switching back off, hardened exterior as if nothing happened.

↳ You stood up quickly, brushing off your clothes and nodded to him with pained eyes and shaking hands. Your heart burned, wanting to help yet the hollowed look he sent you with the tip of his head was enough to have you swiftly out the door and here you were, dressed in black again as Eddie stood beside you, face hardened while carrying his father to the hole in the ground and while making no move to touch you. You stepped a bit closer to his side once seeing the woman from across the fence looking intently at you both, please make it not be another reporter.

↳ Eddie folded, wrapping an arm around your torso as he pulled you under his long coat- thinking you to be cold as you gripped his hip, turning your head away from their stares and whispered a prayer, setting your bundle of flowers against the grave as Eddie make his own remarks. You both going inside the home.

↳ Sabrina openly sobbed into your shoulder, this is the first time she had seen you since your most recent accident as she whispered in your ear, albeit a bit loudly- perhaps on purpose as Eddie's head snapped over to the both of you- pausing his conversation with Tammy. "I am so thankful that you are alive."

"Why wouldn't they be, mother?" Edward questions, looking between you both with the most remorse he has shown today. Your eyes snap down to his wrist as he plays with the watch you gifted him a few holidays ago. "I don't think this is my thing to speak about, Edward." And with that, she picks up her drink and strides over to the table as the lawyer stands, emptying various files from their brief case to the table.

Memories flash through your minds before Eddie holds your hand, you intertwine your fingers together, giving it a light swing while being unable to look at him in the eyes as you play with the ring on his finger. "I lost myself, Eddie. I-I'm still a bit lost really... I'm getting better- promise just, I fucked up."

"Hey, look at me, darling, look at me, (name)," Edward calls out to you, using his other hand to pick up your chin as you blink away tears. He presses a kiss to your forehead, using a soft tone, "and we will find you again, promise."

↳ Eddie was later pulled away from you as you made your silent escape and exited the room, Eddie becoming drowned in those all-too-familiar papers. You were un-noticing to Sabrinas thoughtful look as you exited the house just as fate would have it for the two of you, so close yet ever-so far.

Geoff was already standing by the front door, tipping his hat towards you as you playfully bowed back- engine roaring back to life as he knocked on your window. Rolling it down with a charming smile, "Everythin' alright Geoff?"

"Yes, my Lady. Just curious- you're not stayin'?"

"Oh... no... I think... never mind," you stutter, smile fluttering as he hums out in reply. "We hope to see you around more often your grace, mother misses you like her own," you nod politely, "I will do my best to then," you state before rolling back up your window and rolling out back down those country roads.

↳ That day Edward Horniman was established as the Duke of Halstead. The news once again meeting your phone screen rather than the word of those close to you.

--

↳ You wish you could say that you saw one another right after that, but after you made a spontaneous visit to the Halstead manor. The staff members look panicked as they speedily greeted you and tried to move you towards the seating room as you shook them off. Placing your bags by the door before walking further down the hall and towards the office. You looked through the french doors, heart dropping as that woman you had seen earlier flashed Eddie a charming grin.

Sabrina clapped her hands joyfully at whatever had been said as childish jealousy ran rampant in your chest. You glared at the woman, her face tilted away from yours, everyone unknowing of your presence before you walked calmly back down the hall. Picking up your bags with your head held high, the various staff members chased after you, "How about you stay for tea miss? Oh, I'm sure the Duke will be overjoyed to have you stay, Could I bring you bags upstairs for you?"

You sent everyone a small sad smile, their heads dropping down as they silently understood your decision. You dropped your bags back into the boot of your car, slamming the door close as you drove back down the gravel roads. Luna chasing after your car with a wagging tail.

Edwards meeting had finished as he dismissed everyone from the room, standing while taking a sip of his tea- his heart lunged forwards at the sight of your car driving away. He hastily placed his drink down, running down the stairs as his mother called out to him, warning him of the cold weather that morning yet as he opened the door, he could no longer see your car and that door shut just as quickly.

--

↳ You would try again to see Eddie, yet that woman was always seen right beside him. There was some dark part of you that hoped Eddie would never go back to dating, that you could be selfish yet it would be unfair as you had done your fair share of it. Unknowing to the pain Eddie kept to himself seeing you so happy with someone else. It seemed to him the only times he ever got to see you was when it rained and rained it did.

↳ You took a ride around the estate, really both of your estates since no formal fences were placed. You strode over the overside of the pond, eyes squinted at the sight of the woman once more falling in step with Eddie as Luna raced between their feet. You continued your ride, looking up to the grey gloomy skies with distaste and the next moment you looked back across, they all were gone - if just by your imagination.

--

↳ You were dressed to the nines, a flowing emerald gown drifting off each curve of your body, emphasizing your natural features as you swirled around the crowds of hungry business men and jealous wives as you picked up a champagne glass from a walking tray and returned to Mr. Johnston's side.

↳ A hand written and delivered invitation graced your doorstep, too tempting to refuse- it had been sometime since you last stepped into the spotlight and done yourself up, and so you went all out. You showcased your newest jewellery line- finally finding more inspiration the more times you reminisced around your inherited property.

↳ A rather bizarre relationship you held with Mr. Johnston as well, as he had tried to purchase your land yet smiled and waved away his deal like a fleeting thought. Mr. Johnston have given you many expensive gifts since them to keep your company with him- adoring your intelligence in everything accessory or business related as you reviewed materials for him as a side-gig and token of friendship

↳ You swayed lightly to the music as he introduced to you hundreds of faces, beyond impressed that me managed to remember the names and family connections of them all. You smiled politely, kissing cheeks and making small talk before being led to the next person, ignoring the stares as they watched you from behind- gown drifting away with you.

↳ Much to your surprise, you were being introduced to the Duke of Halstead himself yet for once you were not most interested in Eddie but the woman that stood ever-so elegantly by his side.

"Susie Glass, its an honour your grace," she said politely, red lipstick curving up into a small smile as you shook hands lightly, swiftly dropping your connection before Eddie picked up your hand, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it. You both maintained eye-contact as he did so, never wavering before Johnston coughed, and you tipped your head down, a smile fighting against your lips as did Eddies.

With your gaze down, you ignored the rather pushing tones of both parties, focused on the small red liquid, is that blood?, starting to form at the edge of Eddie's shirt. You shifted your weight to stand closer to him, starting to open your mouth to question before Mr. Johnston was calling your name.

"You never told me, duchess that you and the duke had grown up together, what a wonderful sight to see two friends reconnecting. If you will Ms. Glass, I think we should allow them so time to reunite," Johnston comments, eyeing the closing distance between yours and Eddies forms as you blink a thanks to him as he leads Susie towards the bar.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, your grace?" you tease out, hands drifting up his chest to fix his jacket. You hold him there as his eyes quickly flash down to your lips and back up towards your eyes. Your head tilting, well that has changed....

"Can I not admire the dress? It has been some time since we have last seen each other like this. What was it, when we were 20-something?" You instantly remember that night, cheeks a hard red as you blindly follow Eddie down the hall and into an empty room, the door clicks locked as you become lost in the memory.

--

Eddie had pushed you up against a wall, the paintings swinging almost off their nails as your own scraped against his roots, ensuring that yours lips stayed on one another in a passionate kiss. The shoulder of your dress began to fall as did Eddie's lips, trailing down your chin, to your throat where he sucked a bruise as you softly moaned in his ear.

It was so wrong, you had a boyfriend waiting for you back at university, it was your childhood best friend- the one you promised your father never to be with and yet as he picked you up, hands feeling up your dress and pushed you onto a bed. It never felt so right.

Eddie climbed on top of you, smashing his lips onto your own once more as you whimpered and moaned as he chuckled, shushing you lighting before continuing his attack. You began to unbuttoned his shirt. Nails working down his abs as you smirked to the sound of his breath hitching as you created your own markings to his neck.

Nothing more ever came from your heated make-out sessions or hook-ups. Always resulting in being, "good friends" with one another who needed help...

"Everything alright there, darling?" Eddies baritone voice pulled you out of the memory as you his chest pressed flat against your bare back where your dress dripped. His hands on your hips, his head on your shoulder as you both swayed back and forth lightly.

You pick your hand up, placing it on top of his hands on your waist, circling around each bloody knuckle with concern. "What have you not been telling me, Eddie?" that you love me, your brain pleads to finish for him yet you hold your tongue, bitting your lip from saying anything more.

Eddie hums deeply into your ear as goosebumps coat over your skin, gods you feel like such a horny teenager. But to be fair, that would be the last time you were romantically involved. "I think I will need a few more drinks before I become an open book but, I have been busy in managing my fathers... businesses."

You step away from his touch, gathering distance, eyes firm, "I know what your family does, Edward. Longer than you apparently. I believe it to be the reason why my father never wanted me settling with someone like you-"

"Someone like me?" Eddie challenges. "Do you even have the faintest idea of what Mr. Johnston has done, what your previous boyfriends have done?-"

"Yes, I do. And that should make you understand why I still decide to come back to you, after everything," you finish with, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs by an unlit fireplace as Eddie stands in front of you, undoing his jacket with a hiss as you tut him off in a posh tone.

"Why, Edward-dear, it appears you are the one learning new ideas, would you like some help with that?" You tease out, watching as his shirt turns a deeper red. Edwards rolls his eyes playfully at you as you drink up the sight of this beautiful man, even when bleeding and threatening to stain the designer rug underneath you both.

You kneel lean forward, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as Eddie un-do's his bowtie, it hangs off his shoulders as you dress the wound with the supplies sat conveniently waiting on a nearby shelf. "Arms up now, captain," you playfully command as Eddie complies.

"Never knew you to be such a bossy one," Edward sarcastically comments, looking down at the top of your head fondly. You look up at him through your lashes, blinking twice before continuing your work. "And I never knew you to be bedding your associates-"

A knock at the door sounds as Eddies delicate look before a glare, enforcing that you both would speak about the topic later as you wipe your hands and lean back in the chair, smiling at the women as Eddie leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek in thanks as he straightens his clothes out.

"Hello, Susan," the Duke greets the once mysterious lady as you look between the two of them, jealousy brewing in your stomach once more, your hands itching to hold on to some part of Eddie once more. "What have you done to him, duchess?" Susie asks you, hands presses and leaning forwards against the back of a chair opposite of yours.

You smile gracefully at the woman, beginning to stand yet as you approach her, Eddie softly grasps your wrist, holding you in place. "Well, by the looks of it. He has been shot- what have you been doing with him, Susie?" you fire back.

"Nothing-"

"Really then?" you cut her off with a scoff as you wiggle your hand from Eddies grasp, moving towards the door, you can hear multiple people moving in the hallway as you curse out, your dress spotted with blood. "Alright then, I think it's time for a sharing circle then..."

--

"You killed a man?" you ask calmly as Eddie slowly nods his head. "That was something I did- yes-"

"and by the sounds of it, it will not be your last... or hers..." you reply, head leaned into your hand as you found yourself seated once more. The party-goers were dying by the hour as you all soon made your speedy walks back towards your cars.

--

You joined Eddie that night, helping to redress the wound, dress him for the night, pouring you both another few drinks before pulling him into bed. What surprised you most was his tight grip on your waist as he pulled you down beside him. "Eddie I am not dressed for bed," you spoke softly, not wishing to awake anyone near.

"Sleep naked, wouldn't be the first time-"

You covered his mouth with your hand, shaking it away as he gave it a playful kiss. You heart lunged at the memory of a moment similar to this when you had just been cheated on. Yet you ultimately decide to make yourself comfortable, just as the last, kicking off your shoes but deciding to stare at the side of his face illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace.

"You know, I think I have had enough drinks for tonight," Eddie comments as you hum out, eyes falling heavy as you press your head into your pillow for the night, taking a deep breath in- "I love you, (name). I've said it so many times to myself that it surprises me to sound so right saying it aloud," you are wide awake now, exhaling heavily as your legs twist together underneath the covers.

"I thought you were with Ms. Glass," you speak in a meek tone, not wanting your heart to explode twice, only one of you can be injured at a time. Edward chuckles, head shaking as he looks at you, brown eyes staring deeply into your own, "Well that same woman told me not to sleep with the help, I'm just taking her advice."

"Well she sounds like a very smart lady then, leaving all the more for me," you tease out, lips pressed together as you eye his own. Eddie leans forward, humming out as your lips connect, your hand finding the back of his head before a hiss escapes between his lips and you rapidly pull back.

"Oh shit, sorry," you apologize, looking under the covers to see your knee brushing into his bruised side. "You can always kiss it better," Eddie retorts as you roll your eyes and press a peck to his lips. "whats that supposed to solve?" And soon you both are up into the early morning hours.

--

When you awakened the next morning, having breakfast together in the study, you nearly spat our your tea with the words that escaped Eddies lips, "Would you help me steal a car if I asked politely?"

A smirk meets a smile as you tap your chin in mock-contemplation. "sure" you shrug, pulling the man into another kiss with a chuckle. And thus kicked off the rest of your lives together with a healthy side of cash.

--

Bonus:

↳ Lady Sabrina brought flowers and a bottle of wine to your mothers grave for a chit chat. She poured out to glasses, sitting one by the tombstone as she commented on the nutty taste of the substance.

"I was right in the end, you know. They are a rather marvellous couple and you really should have ended things with that husband of yours. My boy was only ever the most substantial choice, rather embarrassing to think otherwise."

Sabrina could imagine your mother glaring down at her, slipping her the bird while maintaining a pleasant smile. But in due time she would await that interaction as she sipped her wine, embracing victory as she squinted across the field watching as you and Eddie did shooting practice near the woods with a satisfied hum.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung

↳ A/N: I think thats a wrap for Friend of the Captain... but definitely not for my writing on the Gentlemen (2024)!

[hottpinkpenguin]

My request for the Peaky Blinders event: Tommy Shelby + A + B 🖤

A/n: yayyyyy my first Peaky Blinders request!!! thank you @astrangegirlsmind <3 hope it scratches the itch

Ask Me Stay - Tommy Shelby X Bodyguard Fem!Reader Word Count: 4331 Content warnings: non-canon, canon-typical violence, Arthur being Arthur, swearing, references to WWI, alcohol/drinking, implied smut, fade to black

There weren’t many females in your business. In fact, you were the only female bodyguard you’d ever met. Initially, it worked to your advantage: no one expected the full-figured beauty with the expensive silk gown and the pearl necklace to have two Brownings strapped to the inside of her thighs, or a switchblade sewn into the suede of her clutch. You looked much more the part of an expensive consort than a bodyguard, and it was a role you played well, leaning into the role of glib, can’t-hold-her-liquor arm candy. No one expected a woman to know how to slice a throat, throw a punch, or pick a lock. But after the element of surprise was lost in a market, that was it. No one was quick to forget you, and your business was only as good as your anonymity. So, once you’d worked a handful of lucrative jobs in any one area, you moved on. One town, one city, to the next. You’d crossed international lines, too: America to Ireland to England. Adjusting your accent had taken work, but it had been essential. The longer you could blend in as a local, the longer you could stay in any given place. 

Normally, a bodyguard’s dependability was a selling point, and their reputation was something they honed over years and years of diligent work in one area. You didn’t have that luxury. For all your gifts and guile, if you stayed too long anywhere, you ended up with a target on your back. You were too easy to pick out once people knew what to look for. At first, bouncing from one market to the next had proven near-disastrous for your business. Only able to take on a few jobs in a city, without a reputation and name recognition to trade on, you’d been forced to take meager, shit-paying gigs for washed up nobodies. The kind of men - because they were always men - who treated you like the escort you pretended to be. Even though you weren’t there to warm their cocks, you were there to save their hides. They didn’t seem to care much about that, especially after a few tall glasses of booze.

But then, you’d gotten wise. A few lucky hires later, your father had wised up to the importance of referrals. If your clients couldn’t re-hire you, you’d ask them to refer you somewhere. Usually to a contact in the business, based out of a different city. That suited you just fine, for reasons already discussed. Once this took off, the money started flowing in. You were able to buy better sidearms. Spend more on expensive gowns and jewelry to look the part. Your clientele started to ratchet up in status, in stakes, and in payoff.

It didn’t really all add up until one night in December, right before the Christmas holiday, when you’d been enjoying a rare evening off with your father. You’d been stretched out on the couch while he was pouring over the accounts, as usual, when he sat back from the open ledger with a shocked sigh. 

“I don’t fucking believe it,” he murmured under his breath. 

You’d swiveled your head around, recognizing the look of shock on his face as he rubbed his salt-and-pepper stubble (more salt than pepper these days, you realized) in distant thought.

“What is it?” you’d asked, bracing for bad news. Usually your father only commented on the accounts ledger when something was wrong. 

“You’ve got a perfect record, Little Doe.” He turned to you, using a childhood nickname he reserved for only when the two of you were alone, far from the eyes and ears of potential clients. “Perfect.”

You hadn’t really understood his point until the next client meeting, which happened to be the very one you were sitting in now. 

All the politicians, gangsters, and celebrities you’d been paid to protect: not a single injury among them. The countless expensive payloads you’d been paid to guard - diamonds, cash, drugs, you name it - not a single loss. Six years in the business without a single issue? Now that was priceless. 

You listened as your father made this point to the potential client, his eyebrows arching slightly as he contemplated a six year, no blemishes selling point. Thomas Shelby was a man of few words, preferring instead to sip dispassionately on a glass of Irish whiskey and let your father make the sale. You watched him carefully, smoothing your face into a mask of disinterest that matched his. Tommy’s reputation preceded him, as did yours, apparently. You and your father hadn’t been in Birmingham more than a month before the leader of the infamous Peaky Blinders had darkened your doorstep, cash in hand for a job he said needed the utmost discretion and impeachable talent.

“Your cost is steep,” he commented drily as he reviewed the bill your father had slid across the cherry wood poker table.

“I assure you, Mr. Shelby, our cost matches our service.” It was your father’s usual line, and, to his credit, he let it land with as much weight as ever. You’d noticed he was overselling Thomas Shelby - sounding a little too eager, maybe even bordering on desperate - which you knew was a reflection more of your father’s eagerness to secure the goodwill and the good referral of a well-connected gangster versus any real financial pressure to land the job. You were practically drowning in excess cash, a problem you’d been totally unacquainted with until quite recently. Thanks to your father’s astute management, savings were being made to ensure that the two of you wouldn’t have to clamor for gigs for quite a while. You doubted very much that, if it weren’t for Thomas Shelby’s name, your father wouldn’t have given him a sit down at all, preferring instead to celebrate the upcoming new year alone with you in relative peace and prosperity.

Thomas Shelby took another sip of his whisky as he scanned the receipt. His eyes lazed over the figures, then up to your father’s stoic expression, and then over to you. You were always present for client meetings, but didn’t speak until the contract was signed. Typically, you didn’t have to. All that was required of you to seal a deal was a coquettish smile, and maybe a timely demonstration of your skills (you’d left more than a few bullet holes in the walls of the flats you rented and in the Fedoras of your potential clients). 

“I assume this is your expensive daughter?” Tommy Shelby’s voice oozed with something halfway between derision and curiosity. You weren’t sure whether to be insulted or intrigued. Your father nodded, motioning for you. You rose from the chair in the corner of the room and stepped forward, giving Mr. Shelby a small nod of greeting.

“And I assume you typically play the role of what… a whore, when you’re working?” You fought down the rising heat that threatened to stain your cheeks. You heard your father clear his throat and fidget self-consciously. 

“I can dress for whatever part you would prefer, Mr. Shelby,” you replied coolly. “Most of my clientele are men of means, and a pretty woman dangling from their arm is a common sight. Makes it easy to blend in and do my job. If you’re unaccustomed to having beautiful women entertain you, then I’m sure we can reach a different arrangement.” 

Thomas Shelby’s expression gave away nothing as your sly insult hung in the air. You suspected he knew as well as you did that your words were rather empty, however clever your retort. You had to force your eyes not wander away from his, as alluring his sharp cheekbones and full lips may be. He held your gaze, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he could read your attraction to him. You lifted your chin, halfway between a challenge and an invitation. You wondered if you imagined a small quirk at the corners of his mouth, as if he were fighting against a smile. 

“What my daughter means is that she-”

“Done.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until you felt your shoulders relax with your exhale at his words. Your father had been in such a rush to save what he’d felt certain was a meeting gone sideways that he fell short of words for a few moments, his mouth closing and opening without any sound. Thomas Shelby rose, all brusque and business-like, as he withdrew a hefty wad of cash from his overcoat and casually tossed a handful of bills on the table.

“Your advance,” he commented offhandedly as he finished his drink with a hearty gulp. 

“When’s the job?” you asked hurriedly as he made towards the door. He hesitated briefly, hand on the doorknob, and even though he didn’t look back at you you felt your skin crawl under his attention.

“I’ll find you when I need you.” 

The door opened, a brief blustering December breeze jostling its way inside before Thomas Shelby stepped out into the Birmingham night and closed the door behind him.

You exchanged a stunned glance with your father. He was sifting through the bills left on the table. 

“He’s paid the entire balance,” your father murmured in a mix of disbelief and suspicion. For your part, you weren’t surprised, although you barely registered your father’s words. You found yourself peaking out into the dark street, pulling back the curtains just slightly. Down the empty road, you could just barely make out a dark silhouette retreating into the late night blackness. Only the orange-gold end of his cigar betrayed Thomas Shelby’s location. You cracked a half-smile as you watched him vanish around a corner, his words echoing in your ears:

I’ll find you when I need you. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Four Months Later

“You’re fuckin’ jokin’.”

“Always such a way with words, Arthur.”

Tommy gave his older brother a withering glare as he motioned for you to step out of the darkened doorway. The glass-windowed door closed behind you with a heavy thud, bumping you deeper into what could only be described as a War Room. The Shelby brothers - Arthur, Tommy, and John - plus a stern looking dark-haired woman that the boys referred to as “Polly” were seated in plush, leather-backed chairs around a dark cherry-wood table. Surrounding the table on all four walls were maps, each of them marked up with pen marks, small red pins, and thread connecting points too small for you to read from this distance in a dizzying array of carefully laid out networks. The smoke in the room was so thick you wondered how your eyes weren’t watering. 

Aside from Tommy, the other three pairs of eyes sifted you over with suspicion, surprise, and no small amount of scorn. Tommy studiously avoided your gaze - and those of the others, you noted - and instead stood at the head of the table, bent over a large ledger. He’d barely exchanged a word with you since showing up unannounced at your doorstep two hours ago with the curt instruction to “pack for three days”. Aside from telling you that you were London-bound with his eldest brother, Arthur, you didn’t know anything about your assignment. 

“Introduce yourself, darlin’, we’re waitin’.” Polly’s voice was husky and dripping with hilarity, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. You doubted she was used to seeing another woman in this room, let alone a non-Shelby woman. 

“The name’s y/l/n,” you replied, clearing your throat a bit before continuing. “Mr. Shelby engaged my services several months ago, on retainer.” 

The youngest brother, John, chuckled wickedly and lifted an eyebrow at Tommy, still glued to the ledger book.

“That so, eh Tommy? Hope you didn’t shell out too much from the coffers!” He turned towards you, raking his eyes up one side and down the other in an obvious appraisal. “You always had an eye for a bargain, Tommy.” Your eyes narrowed at his insult. He shook his head and scoffed at you. “Since when do we make decisions about protection without consulting the family?” he pressed on. 

From across the haze, Arthur roared up out of his seat, practically vibrating with rage. His complexion was mottled under his patchy mustache and his eyes were bleary with whiskey. “I’ll tell you when, Johnnny Boy! Since Thomas fuckin’ Shelby elected himself the fuckin’ king of the Blinders is when!” 

Tommy didn’t give any indication that he’d heard either of his brothers’ outbursts before he replied back in a bored drone, “since the family is what we need protection from, in the first place.”

A breath of quiet descended over the uproarious Shelby clan as Tommy’s words sunk in. You weren’t entirely sure what was so revelatory about his declaration, but you found yourself holding your breath as your eyes darted from Arthur’s precarious dance on the edge of apoplexy, to the cold glare of Polly, to John’s self-congratulatory smirk, and lastly settling on Tommy’s ever-confident, disinterested face. Much to your surprise, he shot you a subtle wink you were certain only you could see. You felt your shoulders relax a half inch. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Arthur’s whisper shook with fury.

“You know what it means, Arthur, don’t be obtuse.” Tommy lit a cigar and gently brushed his dark hair out of his face. He leaned against the table, retucking the hem of his crisply ironed shirt (impeccably well-tailored, you noticed idly as your eyes traced the seam up the side of his body) into the waist of his pants. You squirmed at the sight, suddenly lost from the conversation swirling around you.

“What are you playing at, boy?!” 

Tommy inhaled deeply from his fresh cigar as he fixed Arthur with the expression of an exasperated parent. 

“I’m not playing at anything, Arthur. I’m trying to make sure that the investments you’ve insisted on handling are executed properly and without incident.” 

“Incident?! What kind of fucking incidents are you expecting?”

“The kind of incident that usually starts with you being drunk at 10 am, like today.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ dru-”

“Arthur, don’t bother denying it, we all know. It smells like a goddamn distillery in here.”

John and Polly watched the volley with interest and a hint of fear. For every fraction of composure that Arthur lost, it seemed Tommy only grew more confident and cutthroat, bearing down on his brother’s insecurity with a viciousness that made you realize why he’d earned himself such a reputation on the streets of Birmingham.

“I do not need a fucking wet nurse!” 

Shit. You barely missed the whizzing whiskey glass that Arthur launched at the side of your face. An impressively accurate throw for a man that both you and Tommy Shelby had written off as a messy, 10am drunk. 

The glass collided with the door you’d entered through, shattering itself and the pane of frosted glass on the door in a rain of shards. Instinctively, you covered your face, just in time to feel the stinging bites of a few fragments dig in the skin on the back of your hand. 

The room erupted in a brawl before you’d risen from your crouch. Your hand had reflexively found its way to the butt of your pistol, diving into what looked like a pocket on the outside of your skirt, but was actually a split seam that allowed you direct access to the holstered guns you kept on your thighs at all times. Tommy Shelby had been faster. Before you’d been able to draw your weapon and fire a warning shot towards the eldest Shelby, Tommy had dove across the table at him, his hands wringing the collar of his shirt as the two collided with the back wall. A few of the intricate maps fell from their perches. Arthur’s chair tipped over with a heavy thud. Polly shrieked, John was yelling and trying to insert himself between the two. You were surprised once again by the accuracy of Arthur’s arm as he landed a few well-made punches against Tommy’s face. Tommy, for his part, responded agilely, wrenching Arthur up from the floor and pinning him against the table, his free hand drawn back for a haymaker. Polly’s voice ratcheted up another octave as she attached herself to Tommy’s fist in a weak attempt to stop him. John had wrapped his thick arms around Tommy’s midsection and was trying - futilely - to wrestle brother off brother. Arthur was taunting Tommy, his meaning lost to fury-fueled growls and obscenities, his voice gargled underneath Tommy’s choking grip. A trickle of blood had made its way down Tommy’s face from his nose and was beginning to stain his shirt collar.

Your shot split the chaos clean in two. An eerie quiet descended over the scene as the four frozen Shelby’s looked up at you as if they’d forgotten you were there. The bullet hole you’d left in the cherry-wood table half an inch from Arthur’s left ear smoldered with a thin trail of smoke.

“It looks like Arthur isn’t the only one who needs minding around here,” you commented coolly as you spun your Browning around your finger in a flashy show. You’d never been able to resist a little showmanship when it came to your guns. 

Whether it was your chastising or the sudden realization of just how out-of-hand this family meeting had gotten, you couldn’t be sure. But you saw the moment that Tommy Shelby’s eyes shuttered up. He buttoned away his rage with a self-conscious clearing of his throat as he straightened his tie. He lay off Arthur, who sprang up like an animal released from a trap. He eyed you warily, but looked properly reprimanded. Without much fuss, he grabbed his brown newsboy cap from the floor, smacking off the dust on his knee, and exited hurriedly. There was a noticeable hush on the gambling floor outside, where the Shelbys’ main book-rigging operation was headquartered. You could tell that whoever was out there - about twenty men, from what you remembered upon entering - was trying mightily not to make more of a scene than what was already done. 

John and Polly both slunk back to their chairs, looking at each other and then at Tommy and finally at you as like scolded pupils waiting to be dismissed. Tommy nodded at them absently and they both left, daggers shooting from their eyes at you. You didn’t miss the note of begrudging respect in Polly’s exceptionally brief nod as she closed the door with its busted pane of glass behind her. Leaving you and Thomas Shelby alone. 

You waited for him to speak, although you weren’t entirely sure he would. He had begun busying himself with re-hanging the maps that had been dislodged by the brother-on-brother melee of a few moments before. Which meant his back was turned to you. You watched as he wiped at his bloody nose with a handkerchief, dabbing away the trail of blood that had stained his chin and neck, before shoving the soiled square of fabric into his pants pocket. 

“Please forgive our manners, Miss y/l/n.” Thomas Shelby’s voice was so quiet you had to strain to hear him. You sank softly into one of the leathered chairs, swiping away some stray hairs from your forehead. 

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Shelby,” you replied softly. “Families are complicated. Doing business with them, even more so. Trust me, I know.” Your mind flashed to a few memories of rafter-shaking shouting matches with your father from earlier days in your career, when the money flowed less freely and the gigs were fewer and farther between. 

“It’s not alright, actually. I’m rather thoroughly embarrassed by my decorum… lack thereof, I should say.” Tommy turned towards you, still unable to raise his gaze from the floor. “My brother, Arthur. He’s a… he hasn’t been the same. Since the war. No one really has…” Tommy’s voice trailed off into a fog of memories, his eyes clouding over like you’d seen in so many others who’d seen the trenches of Europe. You waited, patiently. He resurfaced with a shiver a few moments later, half-turning towards you.

“Arthur needs more minding than I can give him, at this present moment. Besides, no man wants his baby brother acting as his keeper. I thought… well, I thought a beautiful woman like you would make a more… fitting partner for my brother’s business meetings.”

You felt your neck and cheeks redden at the compliment, your gaze dropping to your lap where you were fidgeting with your hands. Stop that, your inner voice chided as you clasped your hands together. You’re acting like a damn schoolgirl. 

“I guess I didn’t… I didn’t properly anticipate Arthur’s reaction. I should have addressed the topic with him first. Privately. Not in front of family. Or guests.” Tommy looked at you, sipping what was left in John’s abandoned whiskey glass down with a small grimace.

“You seem to have a great deal on your mind, Mr. Shelby,” you offered in conciliation. “Mistakes happen. To the best of us.” 

A moment of quiet descended on the two of you. Tommy was fidgeting with his shirt again in what you realized was a nervous tic. 

“Besides, Mr. Shel-”

“Tommy. Please. Call me Tommy.” He cut you off with an insistence that was so candid it felt almost intimate. Your throat went dry for a moment, but you forced yourself to swallow and nod. 

“Besides, Tommy. I am a woman who can take care of herself.” You reached across the table to place a pointed finger on the bullethole you’d left on its surface. Tommy followed your motion, chuckling at your quip. 

“Yes, you do seem to be… rather skilled at handling yourself.”

“My talents lie primarily in handling others, actually.” Normally, you’d have the wherewithal to deliver a double entendre like that with confidence, but this time the words slipped out before you had a moment to appreciate their subtext. Your flush instantly deepened as Tommy let out a surprised chuckle, his face splitting into what you realized was the first smile you’d seen him wear since you’d met. If it weren’t for the horribly grounding nag of humiliation, you were quite certain the sight would have melted you on the spot.

“Well, skilled handler or not, I owe you an apology. I put you in harm’s way, needlessly, and thrust you into the middle of a dynamic you never should have had to see. It was careless. I make a point of not being careless, Miss y/l/n. I swear to you, it won’t happen again.” 

His voice turned raw  and dark with sincerity, his cheeks reddening with a faint flush. He ran a hand raggedly through his dark hair, a few pieces falling haphazardly loose from his usual coiffure to hang roguishly across his forehead. You had to force yourself not to sigh with a forceful want. 

Rising quickly from your seat, suddenly acutely aware of your own awkwardness and in a rush to leave, you bowed graciously in his direction as you began making your exit. “I am packed and ready to go, sir, at your order. I believe I’ll bring my things to the Garrison down the corner - that’s yours, isn’t it, sir? I’ll wait there for further instruction.” 

“Please, y/l/n, that isn’t necess-”

“I can see you need your priva-”

“I’d much rather you stayed clo-”

“I’m no more than a few hundred steps, Mr. Shelby, surely you don’t need me closer than th-”

“I’d much prefer if you sta-”

“Thank you, sir, for the job and the riveting morning, I’ll be waiting at the Garrison, as I sai-”

“Y/n.”

Tommy had tried to intercept you before getting to the door, but he’d had to settle for a gentle grasp on your forearm. The suddenness of the moment and the intimacy of the gesture caught both of you a bit by surprise. The way he spoke to you - as if some sort of internal need was pressing its way out of his body into the syllables of your name - caused your breath to tangle in your chest. 

“Don’t go.” His voice was so soft you wondered if you’d imagined it. Up this close to him, you could see the facets of blue in his eyes, like cold spring water or an early fall sky. You had the dizzying sensation that you might fall into him if you kept staring at his eyes, so you settled for dropping your eyes to where his hand was still snaked around your forearm, his grasp gentle but demanding. 

“I- Mr. Shelby, I really ought-”

“There’s much to discuss, with your assignment,” he murmured quickly, gently pulling you away from the door. “And it’s Tommy.” You allowed him to lead you back to your seat, part of your mind yelling about why you were trying to scamper away while the other half railed about the impropriety of the moment. Adhering to strict moral codes and boundaries with your clients had always been essential, no matter how heavy-handed your performance while on the job could be. The lines felt dangerously close to blurred at that very moment, but from the treacherous hammering of your heart against your ribs, you were quickly realizing that you were not very much bothered by that realization at all. 

“If you don’t want me to go, Tommy, just ask me to stay.” Another bold statement slipped out before you could grab the words back. This time, however, you found yourself plunging headfirst into the moment rather than balking at it. 

A wicked smile spread across his face as he leaned against the table across from you, crossing his arms across his chest and considering you as if seeing you for the first time. 

“Very well, y/n. Stay, won’t you?” That smoldering quiet voice again, practically making your toes curl then and there. 

“It’s my pleasure, Tommy.”

[vettelinyourarea]

hi, could you make one with ollie bearman with london boy by taylor swift, please? she's so whipped by her british boyfriend especially his smile and his thick british accent that always drive her crazy and so is he. thank you!

london boy - oliver bearman

genre: fluff

word count: 927

inspired by london boy by taylor swift

warning: english is not my first language

thank you soo much for the request! to be honest i have been thinking about writing london boy for ollie too! also, i'm not from england so all of the information i got for this fict is from google.

feel free to give me any feedback and hope you enjoy! my requests are open 🫶

------------------

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal

And you know I love Springsteens, faded blue jeans, Tennesse whiskey

But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

You met Ollie for the first time when you just transferred to the Imperial College London. You remember it was on a sunny Thursday, and you and your new friends were doing your assignment for a class together. It was going smoothly for you until you heard a laugh that sounds like music to your ear. That’s when you saw him, a tall guy with a sweet smile and dimples, getting shushed by his friend that’s sitting next to him. 

“Is he from our uni?” you asked your friends, pretending to be annoyed when in reality you really want to know if you will have a chance on seeing him again in the near future.

“Oliver? The tall guy with curly hair? No, he is a racing driver in Formula 2. But he is always here when it’s off-season, a lot of his friends went here. I could introduce you to him if you want?”

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you

“Stop calling me a London boy! I’m not even from London. I’m from Chelmsford!” Ollie said while laughing, and oh, how much you love that laugh. The laugh that caught your attention that first time, a sound that could instantly bring a smile to your face.

You are strolling around the infamous Camden Market with the boy you have been dating for 3 months now. It hasn’t been long since you first met, but God knows how smitten you are with him. Every time you are together with him, it’s like you became a child that has a crush all over again. His smile, his laugh, his thick British accent, his giggle, everything about him is perfect to you.

“I don’t care! You will always be my London boy, okay.” You said with a smile that Ollie loves so much. A smile that he wants to see for the rest of his life if it’s possible.

“Is that supposed to be a Taylor Swift reference?”

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride

Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time

They say home is where the heart is

But God, I love the English

It was raining heavily, which means your plan to go on a picnic with Ollie has to be canceled unwillingly. It’s been 7 months now since you first date him, and it has been the best seven months for both of you. Sure, there are arguments here and there, it’s normal for a couple to argue, but you love him so much and you knew he loves you too. “You know we don’t have to cancel our plan right?” he said after you expressed your disappointment. 

“It’s raining like crazy Ollie,” you said pointing the obvious while unpacking the picnic basket you two had prepared.

“We can still go on a walk, play in the rain for a bit, I swear it will be fun!” his reply got muffled as he hugged you from behind, burying his face in your hair, how are you supposed to decline his invitation?

And that’s how, three days later, you found yourself lying in his bed together with him, the two of you feel like dying from the cold you two caught because of the rain.

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you

Among all the things you’ve done together with Ollie, your favorite one might be walking around Brixton at night on a weekend. Strolling around Brockwell Park, going to a random concert held in O2 Academy, and visiting the infamous Westminster Abbey. You just love your night adventure with the boy who has been in your life for the past year.

And he loves it too, just as much. He loves seeing you enjoying the park at night, he loves hearing you singing along to a song performed at the concert, and he loves seeing your eyes light up when you were in awe because of the Church. Ollie just loves everything that has to do with you, he loves everything about you. And he will do anything just to see you smile. 

So please show me Hackney

Doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Just wanna be with you

Wanna be with you

You love traveling London with your own London boy. Going to Hackney, visiting the British Museum, walking around Victoria Park, anything really, as long as you are together with him.

Ollie also loves traveling with you too, well, he just loves you, really. He may be not as open as you at expressing his love, but everyone clearly knows just how much he is in love with you. How he would drop everything just to be with you if you asked him. How he would literally fly from Italy, ditching his training at the Ferrari Driver Academy, just to be with you if you called him.

Seriously, everyone could clearly tell that both of you are just two people being insanely in love with each other. And everyone also knew that nothing can change that.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Cadillac was founded in 1902 by Henry Leland, who named the company after Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, who happens to be the founder of Detroit. Just 6 short years later Cadillac brought the idea of interchangeable parts to the automotive industry and laid the ground work for modern mass production of automobiles. As a result, Cadillac became the first American car to win the prestigious Dewar Trophy from the Royal Automobile Club of England. After earning such high praise Cadillac adopted the slogan "Standard of the World."

In 1910, Cadillac became the first company to offer a passenger car with a fully enclosed cabin, a major change from the vehicles of the time. Two years after that, in 1912, the company released the Model Thirty, the car with no crank, which was the first production car to feature an electronic self-starter, ignition, and lighting. By dropping the crank starter, Cadillac opened the door to women drivers, and was able to bring the prestigious Dewar trophy back to Detroit, making Cadillac the only car manufacturer to claim the award twice. Nearly three years later, Cadillac brought the world the V-type, water-cooled, eight cylinder (V8) engine, which would become the signature of the Cadillac brand.

The Roaring 20's was not only a big decade for the country but was also important for Cadillac. In 1926, Cadillac branched out and offered customers more than 500 color combinations to choose from. As the famous Henry Ford saying goes, you can have any color you want, as long as it's black. Cadillac changed this mentality. That same year, the company brought in designer Harley Earl to design the 1927 LaSalle convertible coupe, which made the car the first to be designed from a designer's perspective rather than an engineering one. What Earl created was elegant, with flowing lines, chrome-plate fixtures, and an overarching design philosophy, that made the Cadillac brand known for beauty and luxury.

In the middle of the 1930's a midst The Great Depression, while most companies and families were struggling Cadillac created the first V-type 16-cylinder engine for use in a passenger car. This engine would go on to be one of the most iconic engines in Cadillac history. Shortly thereafter, Cadillac released a V12 version to give buyers something between the already popular V8 and new V16 engines.

Cadillac went quiet in the 1941's when they suspended automobile production to help produce planes for the war. After the war ended Cadillac adapted some of the aircraft technology and created the first ever tailfin on a vehicle. This feature is now found on almost every car and was one of the biggest reasons that Cadillac was given the first ever Car of the Year award in 1949.

The tailfin took off rather quickly and by the mid to late 1950's it was being featured heavily in the design of nearly every vehicle. Also in the 50's Cadillac began developing power steering, which helped the automaker take third, tenth, and eleventh places at the 24 Hours of Le Mans. After Cadillac's stunning "victories" power steering quickly became the new standard of the industry.

Small but meaningful innovations filled the 1960's for Cadillac. In 1963, the company made front seatbelts standard in their vehicles, which lead to the eventual passing of a federal law requiring front seatbelts in all vehicles just one year later. Then, in 1964, Cadillac brought to market automatically controlled headlamps and redefines luxury with Comfort Control, the industry's first thermostatically controlled heating, venting, and air-conditioning system. Over the next few years, Cadillac introduced variable-ratio power steering, electric seat warmers, and stereo radio.

While the 1960's were fairly quiet, with only some smaller, luxury items being introduced, Cadillac started out 1970 with a major bang. Cadillac opened the decade by unveiling the 400 horsepower, 8.2-liter engine Eldorado. With its completely redesigned axle this model boasted the highest torque capacity of any passenger car available at the time. Closing out the decade, Cadillac brought to market the 1978 Seville which used onboard microprocessors in its digital display. This started the era of the computerized automobile.

Throughout the 1980's Cadillac laid low, working on some new technologies that would come to market in the early parts of the 1990's. The first feature to debut was an electronic traction control system on front-wheel drive vehicles. Cadillac began offering this as a standard feature on the 1990 Cadillac Allante. This same year Cadillac would go on to win the Malcolm Baldrige National Quality Award. Two years later, in 1992, the company developed a feature that allowed the engine to run for up to 50 miles without coolant, and a unique induction system for near-perfect fuel distribution. The Seville Touring Sedan of that year would become known as the "Cadillac of the Year" thanks to features such as an all electronically controlled Powertrain, traction control, anti-lock brakes and speed-sensitive suspension. Closing out the decade, Cadillac introduced the, now iconic, Escalade SUV.

CELEBRATING 100 YEARS AS 'THE STANDARD OF THE WORLD'

Coming up on the 100th anniversary of the Cadillac brand, the company had to do something big or the decade, and they did not disappoint. Cadillac started off the 200's by introducing the F-22 stealth aircraft inspired Cien Concept, which ended up winning a few design awards. Later in the decade, in 2008, Cadillac expanded the Escalade SUV by making it the world's first full-size luxury hybrid SUV. In the same year, the company redeveloped the CTS Sedan. This redesign has been incredibly popular and even won the coveted 2008 Car of the Year award. A short year later, the performance edition CTS-V, becomes the fasted V8 production sedan in the world, establishing a record lap time of 7:59:32 on Germany's famed Nürburgring.

[not-magdi]

Media Intern - Pt.1

Summary: Getting accepted at her dream job at FC Barcelona and starting a new journey that can lead her god nows where.

Warnings: None

Words: 1.3

Part 2

Deciding to study Sports Management, Y/N stood before the decision on which University she should study. Not having a single idea where she wanted to go she just sent applications to the five most attractive looking universities. These being the Universidad de Barcelona, the LUNEX University in Luxembourg, and three more in France and Austria, and England. 

After getting cancellations from three out of the five Universities she had to decide between Barcelona and England. After thinking for a long time she decided that she wanted to study in Barcelona, preferring the hot Spanish weather over the rainy English one. 

This leads her to now, after finding an apartment near campus and packing all her things to move to Spain she now is in the middle of her second semester. 

Starting to search for a roommate shortly into the first semester, after realizing that Barcelona is freaking expensive and paying for everything alone is impossible. Surprisingly just one hour after posting her offer online someone answered. 

Carmen Sanchez, 19 years old studying International Marketing. After meeting up and clicking immediately they ended up as roommates. 

Y/N was happy she was now not as alone anymore, having someone there when you come home has something comforting while living so far away from your home country. 

Now in the middle of her second semester, Y/N's desk was full of piles of books and folders, needing to study for various exams and projects she has to hand in, in the next few weeks. 

Finishing her last course of the day Y/N is about to head home as her professor stops her, "Y/N... wait a second, please." Turning around Y/N comes to a halt turning around to see her professor going up to her with a smile on his face. 

"Hello, Professor what can I do for you?" asking him as he stops in front of her fishing a little folder out of his bag. 

"Oh, nothing ... I just got this job offer from FC Barcelona, my cousin works there and sent me this. They are searching for an intern in their social media department. She sent it to me asking if one of my students would maybe be interested, and I thought of you." 

Handing her the folder she opens it, seeing the details of the offer. She once told him that she searches for a job as affording school supplies is really expensive and her savings are slowly coming to an end. 

"Thank you professor ... I will definitely look into it. " Y/N told him and put the folder into her bag trying not to freak out. 

"Please do that ... I think something like this would really fit you and benefit your studies. That's all, I just wanted to give you the folder. Hope you have a nice evening ... bye Y/N" waving him goodbye, Y/N continued her way home, the offer from Barcelona the only thing on her mind.

Football has always been a passion of Y/N, starting to watch it with her dad every Sunday and loving it just as much as him. 

Y/N always admired the reporters who got to travel around the world and getting to comment on the sport they love. Wanting to be just like them, Y/N worked her ass off to be able to study Sports Management and now getting this offer, Y/N was over the moon. 

Opening the front door she searched for Carmen to tell her the news, "Carmen where are you ... you can never guess what Professor Cruz just gave me !" Running into their living room she spots Carmen on the couch with her laptop on her lap. 

"What did he give you?", looking up from her laptop she chuckles at Y/N's excited behavior.

Jumping beside Carmen on the couch she pulls the folder out of her bag showing it to her. "Look ... it's a job offer from THE FUCKING FC BARCELONA!" Y/N tells Carmen squealing the last part.

"OMG really ... that's so cool. Please tell me you already sent something to them." 

Y/N looks at her, "No ... he gave me that thing thirty minutes ago, should I have done it while walking home?" Raising an eyebrow at Carmen she continues. "I wanted to do it now but I have no clue what I should write them, I think 'Hey I'm Y/N, I love football I have no clue what I should do at your club, and would really like the job' won't bring me in" 

"See this is why you have me ... you didnt even read the folder because if you would have read it, you would have seen that they gave you an exact list of what they want to know about you" 

Giving her the paper, Carmen closes the project she has been working on her laptop and opens an empty Word document. 

"They want my Instagram name too?" looking surprised Y/N looks at Carmen, "Why would they want that?" 

"They want to see what you post and if you could damage the image of the Club ... we had that last week in one of my courses. That's something many companies now do, most of the time big and famous companies, like FC Barcelona. These days something like that is mandatory." Carmen tells her. 

"Wow, that's kind of scary" speaks Y/N as she turns the page around.

"Yeah it kind of is ... but now let's go to work, let's start with your CV" Carmen takes the folder and looks at what the first thing on the list is. "They want to know what my work experience is ..."

It took them solid three hours and five Red Bulls but they're done. Before them now lays a complete CV with as many details as they could put into it, a Photo of Y/N, and a recommendation from Professor Cruz, ready to be sent. 

"You ready?" Carmen looks at Y/N, who holds her trembling finger over the sent button. 

"Y-yes ... I think so?", taking a deep breath she presses the send button and closes her eyes. 

Your application was successfully sent. 

"Omg ... I can't believe I just did that ... I think I need a beer", chuckling Carmen looks at her and adds, "Please bring me one too ... they have no choice but to accept you with that bomb CV we just wrote." 

Laughing Y/N stands up and goes to the kitchen to grab them a beer, they sat on the couch cuddled together watching TV until they both fell asleep. 

Y/N hasn't heard anything from them for several days, she slowly started to think she didn't get the job, so she tried to ignore it as best as possible, distracting herself with coursework and projects.

Currently walking home after having to do the shopping today Y/N felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out her mouth fell open, they replied they really replied! Wanting to open it together with Carmen she started to walk home as fast as she could but was too impatient in the end. Opening the Email in the hallway of her apartment building. 

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

We are happy to inform you that we choose you as our new Intern at th-

She got it, she really got the job!

Y/N read the mail over and over again, she started to believe it after the about sixteenth time. Running to her apartment as fast as she could, only tripping once she kicked the door open and shouting at Carmen. 

"I got the job! Carmen, they said yes ... I'm going to work at THE FC BARCELONA!"

[grantmentis]

2024 PWHL BROADCAST SCHEDULE SUMMARY:

PWHL season opener will be available to Canadian viewers live on CBC, TSN, and Sportsnet national television feeds, streamed on CBC Gem, ca, the CBC Sports app for iOS and Android devices, TSN.ca, the TSN app, and Sportsnet+. French-language coverage will appear on ICI TOU.TV.

PWHL season opener is available to United States regional TV viewers with MSG Networks and NESN.

All subsequent PWHL regular-season games are available to Canadian viewers on coverage divided across TSN, CBC, and Sportsnet which includes linear television and streaming on TSN+, CBC Gem, ca, the CBC Sports app, and Sportsnet+. Additional games will be announced pending NHL and AHL playoff schedules.

French-language coverage of all Montreal games will be split between RDS and Radio-Canada, ICI TOU.TV.

MSG Networks will be the home of all 24 PWHL New York games.

NESN will be the home of all 24 PWHL Boston games for fans in New England, excluding Fairfield County. Fans in New England can watch on NESN or stream on the NESN 360 app by logging in with their TV provider or purchasing a direct subscription.

League agreements with regional networks allow out-of-market distribution including the potential for games to be added on Sportsnet Pittsburgh and other networks on a case-by-case basis.

All PWHL games will be streamed on the league’s YouTube channel and available outside of Canada.

The league may announce additional broadcast partners throughout the season.

EDIT: Bally Sports North has also been added as a partner for PWHL Minnesota games

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 25 (Crazy Love)

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

If life was a fairytale, it’d be easy to be happy.

As long as you refrain from “doing the wrong things”. For example…

Entering a forest that’s off limits, opening a door you shouldn’t, knowing a forbidden secret, and—

…

Kate: Thank you so much for the help you’ve given me all this time.

Colleague: I’m going to be so lonely without you here. But I’ll always be hoping for your success. Take care, Kate.

My colleagues bid me farewell after I told them that I would continue my service to the imperial court.

I reassured them that there were amazing people at the court, and working there would be like a promotion.

They were delighted to hear that. But had I told them what my new job truly entailed and who I was living with, their response would definitely be much different.

At least, that was me a month ago.

I said goodbye to the post office that smelled like ink and walked away, wiping away the small feeling of loneliness.

…

London, the capital of England, was the world’s most prosperous city under the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.

Everyone lived their lives by their own desires, and today was no different.

In a corner of the street, I spotted a poster of my lover.

(Ah… it’s a poster of Liam.)

The poster announced the performance of a new play at The Scala called “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”, with Liam starring as the main character.

And the premiere was tonight.

— Today, I’m lying to Liam about one thing.

Liam was unaware that I was going to watch the play.

(Liam got me tickets for the closing show, but I bought myself tickets to the premiere without telling him.)

(As a big fan of theatre, of course I have to secure tickets for myself!)

(Also…)

Liam was always gifting me bouquets of flowers, so I wanted to surprise him tonight by buying him flowers too.

(Fufufu, I hope I can give him a surprise.)

…

I went to a flower shop in the ever so lively Leadenhall Market to choose flowers for Liam.

(What kind of flowers should I get him? There's Gerbera, Cosmos… Ah.)

Amongst the various flowers on display, I found some modern roses that resembled the colour of Liam’s hair.

Modern roses were the flowers Liam often gifted me.

(... Yep, I’ve decided. I’ll go with these.)

Kate: Excuse me. Could you kindly put these modern roses into a bouquet for me, please?

Florist: Sure! These flowers are pretty rare and we don't always have them in stock. You’re very lucky.

Florist: By the way, did you know that modern roses have a very wonderful meaning in flower language?

Kate: No… what do they mean?

Florist: Modern roses signify “gratitude”. For example, you’re grateful to have met someone.

(“I’m grateful that I met you”.)

(I don’t think I’ve ever said that to Liam.)

– Flashback Start –

Kate: Thank you so much, Liam. I’ll be sure to cherish them well, so that they’ll keep blooming for a long time.

Kate: If I display them by my room’s window, they’ll definitely bring a smile to my face tomorrow morning…

Liam: If flowers can make you smile every morning, then I’ll give you however many flowers you want!

– Flashback End –

Ever since we met, Liam has gifted me countless bouquets of flowers that signify “gratitude”.

(What was Liam feeling each time he gifted me those flowers?)

(Has Liam… ever received such beautiful flowers from anyone?)

Throughout his life, there was probably not a single person who celebrated his existence.

Liam was physically and mentally wounded, to the point where he felt hopeless and wanted to give up on himself.

But I believed that Liam possessed a pure heart that cherished the people around him dearly.

It must've been so painful for him to live in such a cruel world with that kind heart.

I wished that he would throw his kindness away instead of bear the burden of his pain and suffering, but that was definitely not the kind of person Liam was.

(I can’t turn back time, but I can still express it to him from now on.)

(From now on, I’ll tell him often how grateful I am for him.)

(I’ll continue celebrating his existence.)

…

Seated close to the seats on the first floor of the theatre, I watched the curtains rise for “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”.

– Flashback Start –

Tom: Liam, overcome your struggles. After “Hamlet”, play the role of Quasimodo in “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”.

– Flashback End –

Just like he promised to that day, Liam portrayed himself as Quasimodo and overcame all odds as him.

Quasimodo (Liam): “This world I live in can be so cruel that there are times I want to look away from it, abandon it… and even stop living.”

Quasimodo (Liam): “But, even so… I have to keep on living!”

Quasimodo (Liam): “Until the day this heart stops beating…!”

The final lines were followed by an atmosphere so silent you could hear a water droplet fall.

— One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Then came a roar of non-stop thunderous applause.

I stood up from my seat and clapped for Liam as he stood under the spotlight during the curtain call.

(Ah… he shines so bright. So, very, bright.)

His graceful bow towards the audience made him look like a beautiful star people longed for, but I knew that my hands could touch that star.

Curly Haired Lady: … *sniffle*

Freckled Lady: Goodness, why are you crying? … *sniffle* I’m crying too. Something feels different about Liam, don't you think?

Curly Haired Lady: … Yeah. I can’t really say it well… but he seems much happier than before.

Hearing the voices of Liam’s passionate fans made my lips relax into a smile.

(Ah…)

My eyes met Liam’s from afar.

Liam: :D

(H-He noticed me.)

Liam flashed me a broad smile when he saw me, and winked at me.

Liam: ;)

Curly Haired Lady: Kya! H-He just…! Liam just winked at me!

Freckled Lady: Y-You fool! Liam winked at me! ME!

Curly Haired Lady: Nooo, me! Liam~! I love you!

Freckled Lady: Not fair! I love you too…!

Liam: :0

Liam: Haha.

…

One of the theatre members told me to wait for Liam on stage, and so I stood there on the empty stage after all the audience had left the theatre.

The spotlight above was so bright, I involuntarily squinted my eyes.

(... With a light this bright, there’s no escaping from or hiding anything.)

Whether it's in the light or in the pitch darkness, there was no such thing as remaining completely unharmed.

Sometimes, life can be so cruel that we feel like throwing it away.

Liam: Kate.

Kate: … Liam.

Despite that, I never want to let go of this miracle — every moment when our eyes meet, when we're breathing together, and when my heart races with excitement at the sight of him.

However embarrassing it may be, I held tightly onto even the tiniest bits of hope, wanting to live.

Until the day darkness comes for us.

Standing face to face with each other, I held out the bouquet I had hidden behind my back to my lover.

Kate: Congratulations on the premiere, Liam! Also…

Kate: Thank you for being alive.

Liam: T-These flowers…

Liam: … Haha. … It’s my first time hearing someone thank me for being alive.

Liam awkwardly accepted the bouquet.

— He smiled with genuine joy.

Kate: I didn't expect you to see me from the stage. I wanted to surprise you.

Liam: These eyes were made to look for you.

Liam: By the way, what were you looking at just now?

Kate: I was looking at the spotlight. It’s so bright.

Liam: When you lie down here and look up — it’s even brighter.

Liam laid down on the floor and patted his side, motioning me to lie down next to him.

Following him, I joined him on the floor under the bright spotlight.

(Woah…)

Kate: The lights kind of look like the stars in the sky, don't they?

Liam: … Yeah, I know.

Liam: Hey, Kate… do you know of this saying?

Liam: The moment you get to a place where the stars are within an arm’s reach, you’ll find it difficult to breathe. Within seconds, you’ll be on your way to heaven.

Liam: I don’t really understand, but for some reason it’s just always in my head.

I found myself staring at Liam’s profile as he spoke.

Kate: … If you could go to that place where you could touch the stars, would you want to?

Liam: If I could touch the stars… huh.

Liam reached a hand towards the spotlights hanging from the ceiling.

Liam: Even now, I still long to touch something as beautiful as the stars.

I recalled the day when he told me that everything apart from himself was beautiful.

Liam: But…

He pulled me close with an outstretched arm, firmly holding my shoulder.

Liam: Right now, however dirty or ashamed I feel… I much prefer being able to touch you like this.

Liam: I always will.

Liam: Perhaps, this way, I’ll always be happy.

As Liam spoke with a soft smile—

I leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the neck.

Liam: … It tickles.

Liam just living on with a beating heart was enough for me to see him as the most beautiful person in the world, like the brightest star in the sky; and yet, he would most likely spend the rest of his life refusing to acknowledge his beauty and wishing to become a star while carrying the burden of his permanent scars.

(Even if you never realise how beautiful you are, I’ll always stay by your side and watch over you.)

Liam: I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Liam: I don't know what will happen, but I think it’d be nice to have you with me…

Liam: I hope that you’ll have me in your eyes tomorrow too…

Kate: What are you talking about…? I’ll always be waiting for you to spend our tomorrows together, until you get sick of it.

Liam: Then… let’s be together until the very last second of our lives.

Liam: Ahh, I’m looking forward to tomorrow…

Enveloped by the light that resembled the stars in the sky, we waited for our tomorrow to come.

Our hearts beating together.

[pentecostwaite]

I bought this item from an antiques mall today.

It’s been there for some time. I’ve seen it in the same booth since the summer. It’s always been displayed like this, in an upright position, with a tag that said “wall box.”

I didn’t look at it for long before. There are many, many reproduction wooden “wall boxes” on the market and I didn’t know what to make of all the red “gunk” around the strange small opening in the box. Pass.

Today, I was at the antiques mall and the box was displayed on a table, like this:

There was writing on the bottom I had never noticed: “REPRESENTATIVES.”

All of a sudden, things started to make sense: the strange small opening in the front—or rather the top—of the box, the odd red stuff around the opening. This wasn’t a wall box. This was an early New England ballot box, used specifically to elect state representatives.

The handle was used to carry the box from voter to voter in the town meeting set aside to elect state representatives. Each voter placed their vote in the square opening, and when all votes were cast, the opening was covered with a piece of paper and sealed closed with the same sealing wax used for other important documents.

Bits of paper still cling to the wax. I can make out “For State” and “[dist]rict” and the name of a town ending in “TLE.” If it’s from a Maine town, a local possibility might be Newcastle.

I’m excited to own this piece of American voting history. These kinds of old New England ballot boxes are scarce.

And a word to my fellow antiquers and thrifters that I should have been following myself—always be sure to look at the underside of any piece you are interested in—you never know what you’ll find there that could shape your knowledge of the piece!

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Lisel & Po by Lauren Oliver

Liesl lives in a tiny attic bedroom, locked away by her cruel stepmother. Her only friends are the shadows and the mice,until one night a ghost appears from the darkness. It is Po, who comes from the Other Side. Both Liesl and Po are lonely, but together they are less alone.

That same night, an alchemist's apprentice, Will, bungles an important delivery. He accidentally switches a box containing the most powerful magic in the world with one containing something decidedly less remarkable.

Will's mistake has tremendous consequences for Liesl and Po, and it draws the three of them together on an extraordinary journey.

Red Planet by Robert A. Heinlein

Jim Marlow and his strange-looking Martian friend Willis were allowed to travel only so far. But one day Willis unwittingly tuned into a treacherous plot that threatened all the colonists on Mars, and it set Jim off on a terrfying adventure that could save--or destroy--them all!

The Secret Seven by Enid Blyton

It's their very first adventure and the Secret Seven super-sleuths are already on the trail of a mystery! The gang are dressed in disguise, following a lead to a spooky old house in the snow...

Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray

"A road's a kind of holy thing," said Roger the Minstrel to his son, Adam. "That's why it's a good work to keep a road in repair, like giving alms to the poor or tending the sick. It's open to the sun and wind and rain. It brings all kinds of people and all parts of England together. And it's home to a minstrel, even though he may happen to be sleeping in a castle."

And Adam, though only eleven, was to remember his father's words when his beloved dog, Nick, was stolen and Roger had disappeared and he found himself traveling alone along these same great roads, searching the fairs and market towns for his father and his dog.

The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris

Life for the young orphan Terence has been peaceful, living with Trevisant, the old Hermit in a quiet, isolated wood.

That is, until the day a strange green sprite leads him to Gawain, King Arthur's nephew, who is on his way to Camelot hoping to be knighted. Trevisant can see the future and knows that Terence must leave to serve as Gawain's squire. From that moment on, Terence's life is filled with heart-stopping adventure as he helps damsels-in-distress, fights battles with devious men, and protects King Arthur from his many enemies.

Along the way, Terence is amazed at his skills and new-found magical abilities. Were these a gift from his unknown parents? As Gawain continues his quest for knighthood, Terence searches for answers to the riddles in his own past.

The Seventh Tower by Garth Nix

Tal has lived his whole life in darkness. He has never left his home, a mysterious castle of seven towers. He does not see the threat that will tear apart his family and his world. But Tal cannot stay safe forever. When danger strikes, he must desperately climb the Red Tower to steal a Sunstone. He reaches the top... ...and then he falls into a strange and unknown world of warriors, ice ships, and hidden magic. There Tal makes an enemy who will save his life and holds the key to his future.

The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston

There are three children: Toby, who rides the majestic horse Feste; his mischievous little sister, Linnet; and their brother, Alexander, who plays the flute. The children warmly welcome Tolly to Green Knowe... even though they've been dead for centuries.

But that's how everything is at Green Knowe. The ancient manor hides as many stories as it does dusty old rooms.

And the master of the house is great-grandmother Oldknow, whose storytelling mixes present and past with the oldest magic in the world.

Sweet Valley High by Francine Pascal

Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield are identical twins at Sweet Valley High. They're both popular, smart, and gorgeous, but that's where the similarity ends. Elizabeth is friendly, outgoing, and sincere—nothing like her snobbish and conniving twin. Jessica gets what she wants—at school, with friends, and especially with boys.

This time, Jessica has set her sights on Todd Wilkins, the handsome star of the basketball team—the one boy that Elizabeth really likes. Elizabeth doesn't want to lose him, but what Jessica wants, Jessica usually gets ... even if it ends up hurting her sister.

City Spies by James Ponti

Sara Martinez is a hacker. She recently broke into the New York City foster care system to expose her foster parents as cheats and lawbreakers. However, instead of being hailed as a hero, Sara finds herself facing years in a juvenile detention facility and banned from using computers for the same stretch of time. Enter Mother, a British spy who not only gets Sara released from jail but also offers her a chance to make a home for herself within a secret MI6 agency.

Operating out of a base in Scotland, the City Spies are five kids from various parts of the world. When they’re not attending the local boarding school, they’re honing their unique skills, such as sleight of hand, breaking and entering, observation, and explosives. All of these allow them to go places in the world of espionage where adults can’t.

Before she knows what she’s doing, Sarah is heading to Paris for an international youth summit, hacking into a rival school’s computer to prevent them from winning a million euros, dangling thirty feet off the side of a building, and trying to stop a villain…all while navigating the complex dynamics of her new team.

No one said saving the world was easy…

Carrie's War by Nina Bawden

Albert, Carrie and young Nick are war-time evacuees whose lives get so tangled up with the people they've come to live among that the war and their real families seem to belong to another world. Carrie and Nick are billeted in Wales with old Mr Evans, who is so mean and cold, and his timid mouse of a sister, Lou, who suddenly starts having secrets.

Their friend Albert is luckier, living in Druid's Bottom with warm-hearted Hepzibah Green and the strange Mister Johnny, who can talk to animals but not to human beings. Carrie and Nick visit him there whenever they can for Hepzibah makes life exciting and enticing with her stories and delicious cooking. Gradually they begin to feel more at ease in their war-time home, but then, in trying to heal the rift between Mr Evans and his estranged sister, and save Druid's Bottom, Carrie does a terrible thing which is to haunt her for years to come.

[marislittlethings]

fics i've bookmarked this week

The statistical probability of love at first sight

Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

In which Anthony is feeling jaded and fed up with the marriage market when he stumbles across an interesting new acquaintance. Fluff with a fluffy ending.

notes: this was so sweet and beautiful <3

Two for the Price of One

Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Colin gets used to having Pen to himself while she and Eloise are not on speaking terms - then Penelope and Eloise restore their friendship.

(Colin Bridgerton vs the power of female friendship)

notes: eloise is the funniest person to ever live

A Red Thread of Convenience

Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

At the age of eighteen Kate Sharma, after sending a desperate letter to her father's homeland, receives aid in the form of a letter from Lady Danbury who has arranged a match for the young woman. With only a letter, a promise and hope, Kate takes her mother and sister and sails to England where she is to marry Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

notes: this one is an instant favorite

🩵 We Never Lived Here

Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

And for the first time since he started his Italy holiday, Anthony stops questioning his behaviour and just lets himself be. He follows Kate into the kitchen, where she hands him a glass of water and stays standing next to him, follows her to her room where she opens the door and beckons him inside with a look. When he cups her face in his hands and she nods and he leans in to kiss her, life finally makes sense again. This he knows how to do. This he can understand.

notes: this one made me cry :) also !!!! this is my favorite portrayal of the sibling dynamics & of Anthony in general, of how Kate changes his perspective on life and on himself, of the way he worships the ground she walks on

operation: barista (snitches get stitches)

Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

All of the many combinations of the Bridgerton group chats, as they're all back together in their home town for a week and (attempt to) stir up a plot to get Anthony and the barista together.

notes: fun!

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Sharing A Bed (Jamie Tartt x Reader)

  I arrive home from work expecting to curl up into bed and read a new adult romance book when I feel an unexpected chill in the apartment. Oh no. It’s winter. This shouldn’t be happening. Is there a power outage? I flicker the lights on and off. They still work. Fuck. Is this like, a building-wide thing? There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to ask my closest neighbor. Ughhhh, fuck. There goes my relaxing night.

         When Jamie answers the door, he’s wearing a comfortable gray sweatshirt and doesn’t look at all distressed. “What? You didn’t have enough to yell at me about today?”

         “My heater isn’t working…and I’m guessing yours is fine.”

         “Yeah, mine works.” He looks at me smugly. “Do you want to hang out at my place until they come to repair yours?”

         I think it over. I could easily stay at a hotel, but my stuff is right next door, and I’m too lazy to pack.

         “Unless, of course, you’re scared to hang out with me.” His brow raises challengingly.

         I roll my eyes. “Seriously? Why would I be scared of you? You’re just annoying and a raging dickhead.”

         “Takes one to know one. Look, I’ll keep my door open. Just get what you need and spend the night here until your place gets fixed.”

         Why is he doing this? What is his angle? My laziness and curiosity win out. I let out a sigh. “You’re lucky my son has a sleepover tonight.”

         “Great, now so will you,” he says fake cheerfully. “This is probably the highlight of your social life here.”

         He’s such a dick. “I’m getting my stuff,” I say. Fuck you, I say internally a million times.

                                                        ~

         Nobody can fix my apartment until tomorrow morning. Guess I really am spending the night at the enemy’s flat. Maybe I should look into getting a hotel. Especially since Jamie shows no indication of leaving me alone. “I used to talk to a lingerie model and she left a couple sets here. If you put one on, I wouldn’t complain.”

         It’s just like him to objectify me like that. “I bet you wouldn’t,” I say. Though there’s a very, very small part of me that wonders if he’s not joking. If he thinks I could actually pull those off. And of course he’s been with lingerie models.  “I’m going to bed, because I’m sick of talking to you. Hope you don’t mind.”

         “Yeah, about that. There’s only one bed in this flat and it’s mine,” he smiles innocently.

         Fuck. My. Life.

                                                        ~

         “So why’d you come here?” He asks as we’re on opposite sides of his gargantuan bed.  I’m determined to stay as far away from him as possible. “To England?”

         “Why do you want to know?” I ask. “Do you actually care about getting to know me?”

         “You didn’t know anything about the team or about me,” he says.

         “Yeah, and God forbid someone not know about you,” I say. “Working in luxury fashion marketing is my dream, okay? It’s not some joke the way you seem to think it is.”

         “I never said it was.” He studies his fingertips.

         “You didn’t have to. You never take anything seriously and you’re always trying to undermine my authority or laugh at me. You’re a real fucking jerk.”

         “If it makes you feel better I always feel like crap afterwards,” he confesses.

         Well, that was a plot twist. I wasn’t expecting him to be that real with me. “Well then why do you do it?” I ask.

         He’s silent for a long while, and judging by his face, he’s actually taking my question seriously. “You know how I’m the best player on this team?” ….Or maybe I was wrong.

         “Why did I actually think I was getting a serious answer out of you?” I shake my head.

         “No, just shut up and let me finish,” he says. He’s all kinds of rude, but something inside me also wants to hear him out. “I wasn’t even allowed to play back in Manchester. They benched me. The only time I got to play there was as a substitute. That’s why they loaned me out. That’s how much they didn’t want me.”

         I wonder what that version of Jamie was like- the one that didn’t get attention or glory.  Was he humbler? More tolerable to be around? Because what would he be basing his ego on?

I have to stop myself from saying “I’m sorry.” This was Jamie we were talking about. He could stand to be humbled. Maybe it was good that he knew that there were others that were better than him.

         “And then I got loaned out here, and I was the best player by far, and I liked it. I liked that people got to see what I can do. What I worked so hard to get to do. I guess I let it get to me. The fame, the….everyone thinking what I wanted them to. That I was a star.” His head shifts to look at me. 

         “Yeah, I get that,” I say. “You shouldn’t be rude to other people though. Do you even have any real friends?”

         “No,” he says simply. “I guess not.”

         “What about relationships? Anything long term?” I ask.

         “Not really. My longest was six months. Why the sudden interest in my dating life?”

         I duck his gaze. “Just trying to figure out why you’re a dick to everyone around you.”

         “I’m great with women,” he counters. “Especially in bed.”

         I can’t help but smile at that. There’s something about him that’s almost charming. “I’d disagree with you but I don’t have proof.”

         He smirks. “You want some?”

         He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it. “So this is why you invited me over? To seduce me?”

         “Depends. Did it work?” he asks softly.

         There’s nothing I want more in this moment than to fuck him. I feel hot and I’m aware of every feeling in my body. But wait!!! I’m supposed to hate him!! Why is this happening? I’ve found him attractive ever since seeing him in that ad on the plane. But he can’t know that. I can’t have sex with him. He’s a dick to everyone and all he’s done since I’ve gotten here is try to make my life miserable. I wanted a meaningless hookup for the holiday season, and I feel like anything I do with Jamie will be anything but meaningless. It will be fueled with hatred, and passion, and I already know it will be so addicting that I won’t want to go back to the US. Where my life is. Where my son’s life is.

         I could hate fuck the shit out of Jamie. I know I could, and I know I’d have the best time doing it. But it’s better to not experience something great. That way it’s better to leave it…right?

         “Nope,” I say, moving away from him, trying my best to keep my voice even. “Nothing you do will make me not hate you.”

         He rolls his eyes. “Bullshit. You were into that.”

         “I know that you think that every woman you come across wants you-“

         “Yeah, I do, cause it’s true. And you’re one of them,” he says cockily.

         “Maybe you’re the one that’s into me,” I counter. “You’re the one who made up a stupid lie to get me to sleep next to you. And it’s so obvious too. You’re so juvenile and immature. How can you possibly think I’d like you?”

         “I see the way you look at me.” He doesn’t say anything for a long time, so I assume he finally went to sleep. So when he says, “I’ll get you to admit it,” I’m a little shocked.

         “What makes you think you will?” I ask, too taken aback to pretend too be asleep myself.

         “I don’t give up. So…have fun with that. Cause I will.”

[girlactionfigure]

"Ask me about Lidice."

That phrase is a promise I made after researching the events I'm about to tell you, to keep the name of Lidice alive and meaningful.

Here is the story.

In the summer and fall of 1942, a strange phenomenon began springing up in distant corners of the world, in which streets, towns, even children, were being given the same name.

It all began with the killing of a monster.

At the end of December in 1941, two Czech soldiers living in exile in England parachuted back into Czechoslovakia on a mission to assassinate the ruthless and brutal German SS officer Reinhard Heydrich, who was then working as the Reich-Protector over much of that occupied country.

During his reign of terror, Heydrich - one of the main architects of the Final Solution, and nicknamed "The Butcher of Prague" - kept the "peace" through racial suppression, forced labor, executions, and sending "undesirables" off to death camps.

In May of 1942, a team led by the two parachutists, named Jan Kubiš and Jozef Gabčík, planned and carried out an ambush against Heydrich as he drove in his open-topped car through Prague.

Wounded by an explosive hurled at the car, Heydrich died a week later.

In the aftermath of the attack, Kubiš and Gabčík, along with most of their co-conspirators, were killed.

When he learned of Heydrich's death, Adolf Hitler flew into a rage and ordered massive reprisals against the Czech people.

Because of spurious intelligence reports, the full force of Hitler's anger fell chiefly upon two small villages: Lidice (pronounced "Li-dí-tsay") and Ležáky (pronounced "Le-zyah-ke").

Two days after Heydrich's funeral, German SS and SD troops descended upon the two towns.

In Ležáky, no adult was left alive, the children were seized, and the houses and buildings were burned to the ground.

In Lidice, the population was dragged from their homes, and every male over the age of fourteen was shot and killed - at first five at a time, but when this was found to be taking too long, they killed them in groups of ten.

The women were deported to concentration camps for forced labor or extermination.

Those few children who met specified "racial purity" criteria were sent to Germany for indoctrination and adoption by the families of members of the SS.

Most of the rest of the children were killed in the backs of special enclosed trucks by carbon monoxide, the precursors to the gas chambers later installed at places such as Auschwitz-Birkenau.

Then Lidice suffered an additional horror. Believed (erroneously) to be the town where some of the conspirators had been hiding before the assassination, the town was burned, and stone structures were dynamited.

Slave labor was brought in to dismantle the ruins brick by brick and haul everything away, so that, as Hitler ordered, every trace of the town was wiped from the face of the earth so that the memory of Lidice would die.

But it didn't.

The Nazis allowed reports of the massacre to be released as a warning to other occupied countries, but as the news began spreading around the world, it had quite the opposite effect....

In Mexico, the village of San Jerónimo Aculo changed its name to San Jerónimo Lídice....

In Coventry, England, a shopping market was renamed Lidice Place....

In the American state of Illinois, a new town being laid out was named Lidice....

Also in Illinois, the American lawyer and politician Wendell Wilkie eulogized the destruction of the town to a silent, stunned audience, using the news reports from the Nazis themselves to condemn their barbarity....

In the United Kingdom, the Lidice Shall Live! drive - run mostly by British miners - raised money to help rebuild the town following the war....

In places all over the free world the name Lidice began appearing, and hundreds of children born that year were named Lidice by their parents, and the name continues to be given even to this day.

What the Nazis hoped would be a warning to their enemies turned into a rallying cry, and helped show a world still mostly ignorant of Nazi brutality why the fight against the Third Reich was so necessary.

When the war ended, a handful of women and children who survived the concentration camps returned to the site where Lidice had been, and, with international help, began rebuilding the town on a site nearby.

Today there is a memorial near the town dedicated to the children who suffered and were lost during the Nazi occupation. There also is a larger memorial to the annihilation of the town and the murder of its people. And there's even another memorial placed in gratitude to the British miners who helped the town rebuild.

In 1942, with so many major events grabbing headlines, that the world took notice of the destruction of one tiny town that nobody had ever heard of was a miracle. Yet after the war, what happened in Lidice largely dissolved from the world's memory as Czechoslovakia fell behind the Iron Curtain.

But now that's changing.

As part of the Unearthed Project, people all over the world are being asked to spread the memory of what happened to Lidice in 1942, and of the kindness and generosity through which the town was rebuilt, by promising to tell at least two people the story....

When I first heard about this project and what they were asking, I knew I could do better than just telling two people - this page reaches around 7 million people each month, so by writing this post I am fulfilling my promise to share, and then some. It's my honor to be able to do so.

Now I'm asking you to make and fulfill that same promise, as well, to tell at least two people this story, so we can honor the memory of the victims of Lidice and Ležáky: the men and teens who were shot, the children who were gassed, the women who perished in death camps, and the caring hearts of all those around the world who vowed never to let them be forgotten.

~*~

All told, around 1,300 people were killed by the Nazis in retaliation for the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich.

His grave in Berlin has been unmarked since the Soviet occupation.

Historia Obscurum