#the southampton au

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

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Currently Active

☕️ Hot Chocolate

(Zelda Spellman x Larissa Weems)

Unbearable loneliness has been plaguing Larissa for years. One drunken night, she decides to put an end to it by contacting a local dominatrix.

E

73,040 words

👑 Camyla, the Petulant

(Rhaenys Targaryen x Reader)

All Camyla wants to do is run, all Rhaenys wants is for someone to stay.

When Corlys leaves Rhaenys on her own to grieve the loss of their children, an old friend of her husband requests her help dealing with his misbehaved daughter Camyla. Rhaenys agrees to take her under her wing, but the young woman is hell-bent on driving her mad.

E

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Finished/Upcoming

Adrienne Beaufort

🌅 Sun & Ocean Blue

(Adrienne x Reader)

When Adrienne comes to get Amy out of Greenhaven, she lays eyes on a troubled young woman in need of guidance. Perhaps Adrienne will take in another rescue kitten…

Essentially this is my The Bell Jar

E

105,448 words (completed)

Farah Dowling

Haunt me, then

Farah x Rosalind but as a character/relationship study

The story of how Rosalind was put into stasis.

M

801 words

👻 baby, you’re just harder to see than most

(ghost!Farah x Reader)

Farah’s partner can’t come to terms with her death, and so, every night, she dances with her ghost.

E

2,026 words

🌬️ Grow Wings

While Farah is away on a field trip, Aster hits rock bottom. But after what happened last time, she doesn’t want to tell Farah—even when she finally returns. Good luck tricking a mind fairy…

M

21,631 words (completed)

🩸 Black Dahlia

(adoptive mum!Farah & Reader)

Miss Dowling discovers Dahlia’s self harm.

M

18,510 words (completed)

🎀 Sugar & Sweetness

(upcoming sugarmommy!Farah x Reader)

E

🧁 Common Burn

(upcoming Farah x Reader cottagecore AU)

Rhaenys Targaryen

👑 Camyla, the Petulant

(brat-tamer!Rhaenys x Reader)

All Camyla wants to do is run, all Rhaenys wants is for someone to stay.

When Corlys leaves Rhaenys on her own for years, to grieve the loss of their children all by herself, an old friend of her husband requests her help dealing with his misbehaved daughter Camyla. Rhaenys agrees to take her under her wing, but the young woman is hell-bent on driving her mad.

E

🎭 Gentle into the Night

(Corlys x Rhaenys)

Rhaenys survives Rook's Rest, Meleys does not.

M

1,631 words

Morissa

🌂 This Is What Makes Us Girls (prequel)

(Morticia Addams x Larissa Weems)

It’s Larissa’s 18th birthday, but she doesn’t get what she wants.

M

15,256 words

❄️ Roommates

(Morticia Addams x Larissa Weems)

When the Addams Family attends Larissa Weems' funeral, Morticia is confronted with the truth about the relationship she used to have with the woman.

M

49,965 words (completed)

🥶 Barren Cold (sequel)

(upcoming)

💨 Invisible (on hold)

On the night of their graduation, Morticia is forced to see that she can't have it all - Or can she?

E

14,520 words

🏰 Gwyneth of Rivia

“My name is Gwyneth of Rivia.” She gestured towards the cadaver. “And this is the beast I’ve slaughtered for you.”

E

3,686 words

Madam Spellman

🚢 Ship of Dreams

(Titanic AU)

Every year for the past decades, Lady Morningstar and Lady Blackwood have been meeting aboard an Ocean Liner. This year, it is the RMS Titanic, travelling from Southampton to New York.

E

26,174 words (completed)

🌆 Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

(Las Vegas AU)

“There’s no use in talking to people who have a home. They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people. For home to be wherever you lie your head.”

M

14,420 words

(somewhat completed, but more could come)

🎤 It’s gonna take a Queen of Hell to sweep me off my feet

Lilith can't believe her eyes (and ears) when she returns to the Mortuary after a fight with Zelda.

T

1,096 words

💜 I plant violets every time someone leaves me

(Zelda x Reader)

Clara is about to end her life when Directrix Spellman steps in.

E

4,519 words

🔨 Kiss with a Shovel

One would assume that after all the times she’d killed and buried her sister, she’d have it down and she did, but the transportation aspect of it frequently proved to be rather arduous.

M

1,914 words

🎁 Pandora’s Box

Zelda Spellman has been begging Hecate to bring Sabrina back for months, but maybe she’s been praying to the wrong goddess all along?

E

50,042 words (completed)

🏷️ Whatever the Price

Sabrina has just come back from the dead, together with her boyfriend Nick, and now she wants to get married! But as it turns out, Aunt Zelda isn't the only one standing in the way...

E

91,097 words (completed)

😈 Cherubic Little Devil

About one year after the arrival of their grandson Magnus, Zelda and Lilith now have a child of their own on the way. A baby, created from a witch and a demon. Born to claim the throne of Hell as well as represent the Order of Hecate. What will their path look like?

M

30,211 words

🌙 Pavor Nocturnus

When Zelda and Lilith's daughter is 5 years old, something scary happens...

T

9,666 words

🥵 Heatwave

A heat wave has hit Greendale - but that is nothing against what's going on in the Spellman bedroom.

E

5,607 words

🐎 Calloused Heart

(upcoming Cowgirl AU)

Wolves, storms, and money turn into the least of Zelda Spellman's problems when her sister invites Mary Wardwell-Masters to stay at the family's ranch.

M

3,056 words

✨ Whispers at Witching Hour

Zelda and Mary met at the wrong time and apparently in the wrong lives. Still, they can't seem to keep apart and find themselves in the messiest relationship of all realms. Can they make it work despite their cosmic problems and personal issues?

-An attempt to make Madam Spellman canon from P1 to P4-

E

185,993 words

✨ Wishes at Witching Hour (sequel, on hold)

When Lilith came home one night, she hadn't expected her whole life to change. Now she's living in the constant ache of not knowing the answer to one question: What really happened that day?

E

45,204 words

Miranda Croft

🫒 Handcrofted

You’re Miranda’s former assassin-colleague and after five years, you’ve decided to pay her a visit on her olive farm.

E

6,625 words

[meanmisscharles]

No more Titanic AU with Ed and Stede both on the ocean liner.

Give me the Titanic AU where Ed is the captain of the tugboat that kept the Titanic from crashing into the liner New York as it left Southampton and Stede is a Titanic passenger that somehow gets himself and his secretary Lucius onto that tugboat and begs to stay on as a hand to avoid moving to New York to help run his family business's new offices.

That's the story I want.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

My Heart Will Go On 🤍 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine | Titanic AU

Set where Bradley falls in love with a first class passenger aboard Titanic

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: third class!Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x first class!female reader (romantic), Natasha Trace x Jake Seresin (romantic), Robert Floyd, Mickey Garcia, Reuben Fitch, Javy Machado, OCs for family members.

Content Warnings: fluff, major angst, profanity, classism and mentions of sexism & misogyny, historical event disaster, death, emotional, light smut-Minors DNI! | female!reader (she/her) wc: 18.3k (this is long be warned)

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: On Wednesday April 10th, 1912, RMS Titanic set sail from Southampton, England on her maiden voyage to America. She carried thousands of passengers from across the world, including 21-year-old American socialite Y/n L/n. No one could have predicted the outcome the ship they said was unsinkable would endeavor. And for Y/n, never did it come to her she’d be boarding a ship with a path of leading her to her soulmate.

Note: Y’all I literally was a MESS during the final few scenes I wrote—I literally had to stop because I was crying. It didn’t help I was playing the Hymn of the Sea and My Heart Will Go On and envisioning the scenes as I wrote them. It was too much really—and I always cry at the end of the movie so it felt the same. Please not this is NOT an exact retelling of the movie plot, i referenced a lot but also did research on the real story of titanic (for example how it was a moonless night so it was very dark). Anyway I’m sorry if this made you a mess like it did to me….we can cry together.

———————————-

1958

“Grandma, can you tell us the story about how you met Papa?”

Crickles rose next to her eyes when she softly smiled, bringing the bed sheet up to tuck in the children. Only the dim light from the candle lit the room. Down the hall, the faint sound of Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me To The Moon,” on the record player could be heard. She didn’t even hear her daughter, the children’s mother, come in.

“Honey, you both need to sleep,” the woman knew the subject was a sore one for her mother and father, despite being why they met. In her nearly forty years of life, she’d only heard the story first hand from them once. Any other information was the lectures in history class of the historical tragedy. “We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow so you need to be well rested,” her look was scolding, causing the children, ten and twelve, to pout.

“Pleaaase.”

“Amelia.”

“It’s only half past eight, mama.”

“Yeah, please just one story,” Rebecca pleaded with her sister, “You said they met on a boat like the one we went on last summer!”

Their mother hushed them, “No, I said they met on a ship—that’s very different from the little steamboat your uncle and aunt have.” Her voice goes lower, careful to not to disturb her father from down the hall, “and what did I tell you about asking such things?”

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” the older woman finally stepped in, casting a soft look to her daughter.

She didn’t look convinced, aware of the painful memories the story would bring up. Losing friends and family so suddenly on what was supposed to be the journey of a lifetime. “Mom…..”

“Trust me, Cynthia, it’s okay. You need not to worry about me,” she turns to her grandchildren who appear confused and a little ashamed for causing their mother to scold them. “I think it’s time these little ones get a little history lesson about your father and I. How the Bradshaws came to be.”

“Are you sure?” Cynthia stepped further into the room. She didn’t want to admit it, but she too wanted to hear the story again. The first time had been when she was eighteen, confronting her parents after she found newspaper clippings and the ticket for a first class passenger reading her mother’s name, Y/n L/n, stashed away in a box when they were moving. That’s when they sat her down at the table detailing everything from start to finish.

By the time her parents finished telling the story Cynthia was in a puddle of tears. She understood why her parents always had a haunted look in their eyes whenever April 14th rolled by. It never left them until the 16th, since the 15th was just as significant. Her older sister by eight years, Caroline, warned her to refrain from asking their parents about how they met and she soon realized why. After doing the math, her sister’s birthday was exactly nine months to the day, born on the 14th of January in 1913.

As she got older Cynthia met more children like her. Those whose parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts were among the nearly 2,300 passengers and crew aboard. Children whose family members survived had the same look when the anniversary passed. Just like Cynthia’s parents.

“Mom,” she took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room, “I don't want you to relive it if it’s too much.”

“I appreciate your concern, honey,” Y/n smiled at her, “but I’ve learned to cope and manage. Your father has too,” she watched Cynthia visibly relax. “In fact, he and I have talked about it a few times since you left home. And I promise to keep it short—and not go into detail about….you know,” she didn’t have to explain further for Cynthia already knew what she implied.

With a nod from her daughter, Y/n adjusts her position so she’s seated more comfortably, allowing the children and Cynthia to see her better. “To tell you the story of how Papa and I met,” she begins, the flicker of the candlelight reflecting against her. “We have to travel back forty-six years. To April tenth, nineteen-twelve…..”

“Hurry, Y/n, we’re gonna be late for check-in!” Her father shouted from in front of her, moving at a fast pace with her mother and younger brother. Clutching a bag in each hand, Y/n tried not to trip while apologizing left and right to people she bumped with. The dress she had on was tight, the skirt brushing against her ankles and Y/n wished she opted out of wearing the pillbox hat her mother insisted she wore.

“Sorry!” She said when she caused a man to drop his basket of apples. “I’m so sorry!” As much as she wanted to help she couldn’t, the whistle of the luxurious ship sounded off in the near distance, resulting in more stress to consume her. Her family was supposed to be dropped off right in front of the dockway, but due to a rough start in the morning they ended up getting caught in traffic just before the turn into the lot. Now they were running with little time until the ship would set off for Cherbourg, France, the first of two stops before sailing to New York.

It wasn’t a classy sight for such a wealthy family. Surely their fellow first class passengers were watching them with disapproval. But then again they always did.

The L/n’s were not your average high class family. While the majority of the first class aboard came from generations of money, Y/n’s father built his real estate business in New York from the ground up after being in the working class for thirty years. They were what you would call ‘new’ to the high class scene and still did things working class people did. She and her brother went to public schools instead of private institutions. They didn’t have an army of maids and butlers in their home, her mother preferring to do the housework herself. Y/n was in her last semester of NYU with passions of being a writer. And her father was very involved in his business despite making it big to the point he could just hire a bunch of people to run it for him.

To them, money was a privilege that could easily be taken away at any point. They were humble in their wealth, sharing it by putting resources into the low income neighborhoods they once lived in. Unlike their newfound peers who’d rather stockpile it away for safekeeping.

Yeah, even with money you hide away from judgment.

Out of breath already, Y/n finally reached the corner her parents had just turned to arrive at the docking platform. There was no stopping the awe-struck expression in face the second her eyes landed on the giant vessel. The smell of fresh paint struck her nose, gaze drifting to the large lettering that sent chills along her arm.

Titanic.

The rumors did no justice when describing the beauty of the ship. Titanic was magnificent. She wondered if her parents were as captivated as she was.

“Y/n! Come one!”

Scratch that thought. Maybe they weren’t.

Picking up the pace, Y/n hauled up onto the platform with her ticket in hand, amazed she didn’t drop it in the chaos.

“Ticket please,” the man dressed in a White Star Line uniform said with his hand out. Her parents and brother were standing off to the side, now taking in the beauty of the ship since they made it on time.

Handing over the paper, the man read over her information and stamped it, allowing her to pass where another man was waiting to escort them to their suite. Settling in Y/n unpacked her gowns and nightwear, hanging them up to prevent wrinkles. Makeup and what little jewelry she had filled the vanity, school books claiming the nightstand. When she finally finished her back hit the bed with an audible huff of relief, sinking into the mattress adorned with fine silk sheets.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” her father said when he found her just a short moment later. “Lunch will be served and my colleague wishes for us to join him and his son. He’d like for the two of you to meet.”

Instantly Y/n bolted up from the bed, suspicious in her eyes, “Why?” There was no denying the possible reason. At 21 years old, finding a suitor to settle down with was expected of her. Personally Y/n wanted to focus on her studies. Not finding a husband. Her parents never pressured her to find someone, but now it seems her father was suggesting such.

Her mother comes into the room, wearing the same expression as her. Her eyes go straight to Y/n’s father, “I told you, I don’t like that man—nor his son. He has no respect for you and you know that!”

“I know that, dear,” he sighs, exhausted in his tone. “Believe me I’m very aware. Look, I’m not trying to set her up on my own accord—in fact, I’ll be happy to decline a proposal if that is what he’s seeking. But he invited us to have lunch with them and I accepted because that’s how things are done. Honey,” he faces Y/n, giving her an assuring gaze, “I’m not pressuring you into anything. Okay? If I said no to this he’d likely pester the entire journey to America and I did not want that for us. So please, give me an hour of your time to get through this meal? Bore the man if you have to so he’s less interested.”

Y/n was eternally grateful she was blessed with a father who did not engage in the typical high class behaviors. Any other man would be presenting her hand in marriage like an auction. She’d seen it with the few friends she’d made. It always started with a ‘meeting’ arranged by the fathers of two people and before they knew it a rock was on the girl's finger.

Her father respected her. He warned her before she sat at the table and found out for herself. Even given his blessing to scare the man off or assuring he’d say no to a proposal. Not many fathers would do that.

“Thank you for telling me in advance, dad. I’m starving too so let’s get this over with,” she makes a face, knowing what he was going to ask of her next. “And I promise to watch my tongue.”

That didn’t last long. She knew the second she sat at the table it wouldn’t. Not only was her father’s colleague the most arrogant man on the planet with no respect for his peers, but his son was as equally the egotistical maniac as he was. Throughout the entire lunch, Y/n didn’t know who exactly was trying to win her affection. Both men seemed to be trying to one up the other. How odd of the father for doing such when it was thought he planned for his son to hopefully become her suitor.

Not the case really.

One comment from Richard to undermine her intelligence had Y/n bolt from the table with a sneaker remark, disregarding the looks of disdain from the two men and others. Her parents remained invested in their meal, shooting a smirk of approval to their daughter.

“You promised me this would be a mutual agreement!” The man shouted in frustration. Her father simply sipped his champagne.

“I promised no such thing, William. I said your son may meet my daughter, but I made no commitments for her to agree to anything more.”

The fresh air and sound of the sea hit Y/n as she stepped onto the deck, overlooking the rear of the ship where the second and third class decks were. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before slowly letting it exhale. Men like Willam and Richard were not the first she’d interacted with. Unfortunately most of the male population in high class shared personalities in similar nature.

Egotistical, arrogant, narcissistic. The list goes on. Very little respect for women or those of lesser wealth. Y/n prayed she’d never settle for someone like that. The marriage would be a disaster.

Opening her eyes, Y/n rubbed her hands along the smooth railing before slightly leaning over to get a better look. Murmurs filled her ears, children laughing from the lower decks, the band playing a light melody. It was a pretty scene with the sun high in the sky and seagulls flying overhead. They’d be docking in France soon before stopping in Ireland until finally crossing the Atlantic.

As her eyes drifted over the area, Y/n locked gazes with a man who made no attempt to hide he was staring at her. It caught her off guard, but the young woman couldn’t let but stare herself. He was the most handsome man she’d laid eyes on. Brown hair with almost a golden hue to it. Though it was hard to see the color of his eyes from the distance she assumed they were as beautiful as the rest of him. He was tall—even with the distance she saw in the way he towered over the railing he was beside.

And he was looking at her like she was the only girl in existence.

Blinking, her admiration was cut short by the sound of a cheerful voice shouting, “Y/n!” Spinning around, Y/n was met with the dazzling smile of her best friend, Natasha Trace. Surprise etches her expression.

“Natasha!” The two embrace in a hug. “What—you didn’t tell me you were returning to America. I thought your studies were to finish in London.” Natasha was the only genuine friend Yn had made since her father hit the money pot. Maybe it was because Nat’s family was of humble beginnings like the L/n’s.

“I discussed the potential of finishing the semester early,” Natasha explained, beaming and looking radiant with the way the sun was hitting her. “My father sent a ticket through the post once I told him the news.”

“When was this?” Y/n had recently visited the woman when her family were in London. Her father had a business convention and with the finishing of Titanic, he wanted them to be one of the ships first passengers. During her visit, Nat revealed no indication she’d be joining the maiden voyage to New York.

“Shortly after you departed for Southampton. I only had few exams remaining and my professors were very forthcoming with allowing me to do them early. Plus I missed home. My mother has been writing me daily it seems—waiting for me to come home. I think my father spent all his fortune to get the ticket to me in time.”

“I’m amazed he managed to get one,” Y/n commented, taking her arm in hers as they begin to walk away from the railing, but not before casting a second glance to the man on the lower deck. A swarm of butterflies filled her to see he was still looking at her, his friend having to wave a hand in front of his face as though to pull him from a trance. Another gentleman beside him appeared to be staring at Natasha. She must’ve noticed, a faint blush appeared on her cheeks as Y/n escorted her away. “I heard many had to trade services and goods to get one.”

“I can see why,” Natasha waved to the beautiful vessel surrounding them. “This place is magnificent. Almost as though it were a ship made of dreams.” They continued to walk along the deck, nodding to passengers and crew members who greeted them.

“What are your plans once we arrive home? Off to visit your family I presume?”

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, waving to a small child. “I’ll spend a few days with them—my sisters cannot wait to hear of my adventures in England.”

Y/n hums, turning her head slightly with a knowing gaze, “And what of Alan?” She watched a tired sigh leave Natasha, face becoming defeated.

“He expects an answer from me as soon as I return.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“Of course,” Natasha replies, stopping to face her. “I’ve weighed in the advantages marrying him would bring me and my family—my mother is sure to remind me in every letter she writes. He is kind, generous, not like the other men my father wished me to court.”

“But….” Y/n trails off, eyes sympathetic.

“But,” her friend sighs again, “I do not feel what a woman is supposed to feel for her potential fiance. I can’t bring myself to love him. I like him, Y/n, I truly do. But I’d only be hurting the both of us by accepting.”

“Then tell him the truth,” Y/n tells her, bringing a comforting hand to Natasha’s shoulder. “Alan is an understanding man—you’ve been a friend of his since grade school. I doubt he would fault you for not being able to return his affections. Why subject the both of you to pain and a miserable marriage? What happens if you marry him and then fall in love with another?”

Natasha didn’t answer, glancing to the floor with heat coating her cheeks. Y/n squeezed the shoulder she was touching, “Come, let us have a drink,” she began to lead Nat to one of the many lounges in first class, “Take your mind off things while I tell you all about the father and son I recently had lunch with.”

“That sounds interesting…and a little concerning.”

“Trust, dear friend, it was.”

Later on in the evening, Y/n was pulling Natasha to her room to hand over clothing for her to change into.

“This is a horrible idea, Y/n!” She spoke in a rush, untying her dress and moving to be hidden from view.

“Oh it’s not so bad,” Y/n laughed, tossing the clothing she wore on the bed before pulling on the slacks and shirt. “Have some fun. Were you not the one who wanted to explore the ship earlier?”

“Not by sneaking into the third-class compartments!” She waved a hand like it was obvious, “We’re not allowed down there. What if we get caught?”

“That’s why I told you to have your ticket with you,” Y/n reminded her, placing her own ticket into the pocket of her trousers. “And your identification card. If we get caught we show them and if they still do not believe us I will send for my father.”

“You’re awfully confident about this.”

“Natasha, who’s to say we’ll get the chance to travel this ship again once we dock in America? Let us make the most of it while we can.” Placing a scarf around her neck, Y/n nods for Natasha to follow. “Follow my lead.”

Getting caught by crew members when passing between the class decks was what Y/n was prepared for when she first made the impulse decision to explore the ship. Running into the man she had a staring contest with earlier in the day was not something she had planned for.

“Hello,” she breathed out, hands clutching his biceps when he caught her before she could hit the ground after running straight into him without paying attention. He was even more beautiful up close. Hazel eyes boring into her with a small smile painting his lips. He must’ve recognized her too.

“Hello.”

“I think we lost them,” Natasha caught up to her, equally out of breath before freezing at the sight of the group of six men staring at them like deer in headlights. “Oh…”

“Ladies,” the blonde haired man, who Y/n caught looking at Natasha that afternoon tipped his messenger boy hat at them.

“S-sorry,” Y/n stuttered, flickering between the men but always coming back to the one holding her arms. Finally she broke away, embarrassed to have been seen in such a state. “I should have been watching where I was going—.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, voice as soft as his eyes. “No trouble at all, ma’am. Are you both okay?”

“We’re—.”

“There you are!” A shout captured all’s attention, Natasha and Y/n groaning before shooting apologetic frowns to them. “Stop them!”

“We have to go!” Nat grips onto Y/n’s forearm, pushing her to move. “Y/n, I’d like to make it back home and not be forced off this ship in Ireland!” Frantic sounds of approaching footsteps could be made out by the two crew members pursuing the women.

“We know a way,” the man she had yet to learn the name of suddenly said, holding his hand out. “C’mon.”

Maybe it wasn’t wise for two ladies to be following a group of strangers. But considering they’d be facing the wrath of their parents if caught they impulsively agreed, Y/n’s hand taking his. The blonde offered his to Natasha, the woman looking hesitant before accepting and the two led them away from the deck and towards a corridor. With the remaining of their group following from behind, it made it easier for the crew members to lose sight of them.

Music filled their ears, as did the chatter of a crowd the closer they got to wherever they were taking them. Y/n and Natasha shared a look, equally confused, concerned, and intrigued. When they turned the corner into a spiral stairwell, it revealed the source of the noise. Third-class passengers had gathered what appeared to be a celebration. Children and adults were dancing, drinking beer which had to have been smuggled in. A group of men were playing instruments while couples standing in corners displayed affection to one another.

A smile formed on Y/n’s lips. The energy was contagious, making her want to join in on the festivities. She’d almost forgotten what brought her there in the first place.

“They won’t come down here,” his voice brings Y/n out her thoughts, the young woman remembering she was still holding his hand. It felt warm in her own, bringing a heat to her veins that carried to her face.

“Are you sure?”

“They would’ve been here by now if they were that desperate to catch you two.” Pulling her further in, he and his friend let go of the women. “Apologies for being so forward—didn’t think you two would mind seeing you were in such a hurry.” A couple of the friends they were with already went off to mingle, leaving the four off to the side.

“We should be thanking you really,” Y/n replied, hand moving to run her arm nervously. “You’ve saved us from a load of trouble.”

“Looked like it,” the blonde removed a cigarette from his tin, lighting it with match. Offering one to them only Nat accepted, which would’ve been seen as scandalous to their peers above. “So…what brings a couple of first-class gals below deck?”

The two are instantly flustered, “H-how did you—.”

“Well, for starters there’s the fact we saw you ladies this morning on the first-class deck,” Green eyes drift over to Nat, causing her to blush. “And though you dressed the part to pass as someone like us, anyone could tell from the way you carry yourselves that you belong above.”

They didn’t know whether they should be impressed or offended.

“We wanted to explore the ship,” Y/n admits, arms going behind her back like a child caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. The man she was interested in raised a brow, “By dressing up like third-class passengers?”

Natasha made a sound, muttering, “I warned you this was a bad idea.”

“I realize that now, Natasha.”

“What are we supposed to do?” She groaned, “Wait it out till the sun rises? Or when we dock in Ireland when they’re easily distracted?”

“Do you want me to answer that with a plan or were those rhetorical questions to further prove you were right?” Y/n glanced around the place, aware of her friends' annoyed gaze compared to the men who looked amused. Huffing, Y/n faces them, “It’s come to my attention we have yet to know the names of our saviors. Mind telling us, and anything you could offer to help our situation.” Instantly the two straighten.

“Jake Seresin,” said the blonde.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” his hand extends to formally introduce himself. Y/n shakes it, mirroring the smile he gives her. “And about your situation, I’m afraid you can either attempt to sneak past the guards during shift change or like your friend mentioned, wait till we dock in Ireland.”

“That’ll be just before noon,” Natasha sounded like she didn’t like that option. “Your parents would notice you’re not in your room when it comes time for breakfast. We must return as quickly as possible.”

Bradley tilted his head, “Well if that’s the case then you better off with your chances sneaking past the crew, Miss…..” The trail off in his words made her realize she hadn’t given her name. But then again he may have heard when Natasha said it moments prior.

“Y/n L/n,” his reaction to her name was visible. As was Jake’s when she added, “and this is my friend, Natasha Trace.”

Both men shared a look. “L/n, huh? Like the name of that big building on 21st street?”

“That’s the one,” her lips tightened, ready for the judgment and assumptions about to be thrown at her.

Nat felt the same when Jake added, “And your daddy is the one competing with Rockefeller for king of the oil business. I remember reading something about it in the Times.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to use the term ‘king,’” she crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with her walls already in place. “And I wouldn’t trust all you read in the papers. My father has high respect for John—he taught him everything he knows.”

Jake raised his hands in defense, “I mean no offense, ma’am. How about you tell me more over a drink?” The look of surprise had the man grinning, Y/n having to bite back a giggle to not embarrass her friend. She gave Natasha an encouraging nod that read, ‘he’s on the make with you!’

“While you two are chatting,” Bradley suddenly cut in, a determined look in his eyes as they set on Y/n. “Would you like to dance?”

“O-oh,” she began to stutter, now in Natasha’s shoes considering she had yet to accept Jake’s offer of a drink. They both were hesitant to agree to the offers. “Uh—shouldn’t we be looking to see when the night guards change shifts?”

“That’ll be towards dawn,” he assured, “plenty of time for you to return to your room before your parents wake.” At her still unsure gaze, Bradley’s voice turned softer, “just one dance. S’all I ask.”

Meeting Natasha’s eyes, who simply nodded in silent exchange, Y/n raised her hand and let it fall into Bradley’s grasp. “One dance, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Did you really only dance with him for one song, Grandma?” The twelve year old girl, Amelia, was flabbergasted when her grandmother ended the story with, “and we lived happily ever after.” She yearned to hear more.

“That was the plan,” Y/n booped her nose, “but your Papa was a charmer back in the day—still is I should say. One dance became two, and then three. Before we knew it the sun was rising, Natasha and I were in a hurry to return to the first-class deck. Thankfully we made it before anyone could spot us,” lips curl up, a fond memory surfacing in her head, “though to this day I believe my brother knew what we did.”

“How?” Rebecca asked, earning a look from her mother.

Y/n chuckled lightly before responding, “He had that look in his eye that he knew something I didn’t. I never got the chance to ask him if he did,” a sad sigh leaves her, but she quickly masks it to not concern the girls, “but my brother and I had an unspoken connection when we were growing up. Able to know what the other was thinking or trying to imply with little to no words at all.”

“What happened after?” Amelia sat up straight, eyes full of hope. A hopeless romantic, even at a young age, she loved hearing the tales of how people found love. Fairytales were her favorite, where the princess meets the handsome prince and they live happily ever after.

The clock was pushing 9:30, well past the time she and her sister were supposed to be asleep. Amelia believed her mother would’ve stepped in earlier to cut the story short.

And it looked like she was about to do it just then. Standing from the armchair, Cynthia stopped her mother before she could answer, knowing the story was about to take a different turn if it went any further. “I think that’s a story for another day,” her tone was apologetic, but Y/n’s gaze assured her she was right to interrupt. The story would end on a happy note for the girls.

“But—,”

“You mother is right, sweetheart,” Y/n lightly pushed against Amelia’s shoulders to get her to lay down, bringing the sheet back up. Disappointment filled her granddaughter’s expressions, Y/n offering a small smile, “One day, I will tell you both more of my time on Titanic—and how your Papa and I fell in love in those short days sailing the Atlantic. But for now,” she goes to press a kiss to their foreheads, “sleep. We will have breakfast in the morning—I’ll even make French toast for you two.”

Though the girls wanted to hear more, the exhaustion soon took over, both releasing a yawn. Amelia drifted off, picturing Titanic and all its beauty from how Y/n described it, making a mental note to ask to see a picture one day.

Cynthia kissed her daughters goodnight as Y/n blew out the candle, the two exiting the room with Cynthia closing it behind her, leaving it slightly ajar. Approaching the kitchen, Cynthia debated on asking the question on her mind, growing bigger with each second. Everett, her husband of 15 years, had already gone to bed in the guest room they’d been staying the past weekend, leaving her father as the only person other than them still awake.

Y/n was handed her nightly cup of tea from Bradley, the man leaning to kiss her cheek. Sipping the hot contents, she released a sound of content, his arm going around her while he sipped his own. Leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, Cynthia admires the scene in front of her. The look of love in her father’s eyes while he gazed down at Y/n, his own wrinkles adorning his face. Both grayed haired with skin beginning to frail as they approached their 70s.

Cynthia pictured them at 21. Young and carefree with dreams and aspirations. Her mother, a timeless beauty and her father, the handsome charmer. Boarding Titanic to return home after being gone so long, unaware they’d meet their soulmate and experience an event regarded as the deadliest peacetime disasters in history.

They were one of the lucky ones. Surviving when so many were lost, yet they had their fair share of perished loved ones. Cynthia saw it anytime Y/n mentioned her father and brother. Saw it when her father discussed the days he spent with his best friends.

“Little ones finally in bed?” Bradley’s voice removed her from her thoughts, Cynthia nodded when she realized he was asking her.

“Yeah,” she rubbed her arms, “they insisted on hearing a story from grandma.”

“Oh really?” he looked intrigued, peering down at his wife, “which one this time?”

Y/n tightened her mouth slightly, “About how we met.” Instantly his expression changed, but it wasn’t like in the early years where Bradley would shut down at the mere mention of Titanic. Instead a hint of a smile found his lips, knowing it was his granddaughter’s wanting to know how they fell in love.

“Oh,” he hums, shuffling his feet a bit and tightening the hold on Y/n. “What all did you tell them?”

“Up to the morning of the eleventh.” A laugh leaves him, making Cynthia mentally sigh in relief.

“What a night that was,” the memory of him and Jake ushering Y/n and Natasha through the secret pathways they’d found that led straight to first-class replayed in his mind. Peering behind the corridor at the night crew relieving themselves from post, giving only three minutes for the women to cross into the deck without notice. Bradley catching Y/n’s hand before she could leave, “May I see you again, Y/n? If not tonight but the next?” The eye contact between them was intense, desire and what could only be described as the beginning stages of love swarming.

Y/n promised to return, noticing Natasha was promising the same to Jake and handed Bradley the handkerchief she had on her. A kiss to her hand and Bradley watched her go, dragging Natasha away until they disappeared out of sight, leaving the men to avoid being seen as they headed back to the third-class compartments.

“One to remember,” Y/n echoes, leaning more into him. The image of her and Natasha giggling when they made it to her suite flashed in her mind. “I cannot believe that just happened! Oh, Natasha, do you feel what I am feeling? It’s like walking on a cloud!”

“Mom, dad?” Cynthia suddenly spoke, nervous she was about to make them upset by asking the jarring question nagging her brain. When their heads turned the words flew before she could stop them, “Could…could you tell me again about that night?”

Sunday April 14, 1912 started out like any other aboard Titanic. Y/n rose early to accompany her family at breakfast before meeting with Natasha for lunch. Throughout the day they’d reside close to the railing of the first-class deck to oversee the third-class one where Bradley and Jake would wait for them. Subtle looks and waves would be exchanged, the men subjected to howls and whistles from their friends.

In the days leading up she felt like she was living in one of her fairytale novels. The night of the 11th she and Natasha were formally introduced to Mickey, Reuben, Javy, and Bob when they snuck back during the shift change between day and night crew. Y/n enjoyed being with the group. They were funny and outgoing, very different from the men she was usually surrounded by.

Together they’d drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes, dance to the music passengers played and tell tales of their upbringing. Y/n learned Bradley and his friends were all aspiring aviators with backgrounds as mechanics and had grown up in the same neighborhood. He was originally from Virginia and lived in New Jersey with his Godfather after losing his parents to illness when he was sixteen and had no siblings.

Y/n told him about her family, explaining how they were once working class citizens until her father had a leading hand in constructing The National Association of Realtors. Bradley appeared impressed when she told him, finding admiration in those who worked hard for their wealth and not had handed to them on a silver platter. She explained her studies at NYU, dreams of being a writer—a novelist to be more specific, and hobbies of hers such as horseback riding, reading, and writing.

“What type of novels do you wish to write?” Bradley popped some chocolate into his mouth, offering a piece to her which she gladly accepted.

“Thrillers would be interesting to do,” she walked with him along the deck, the sound of the water hitting the ship loud against her ears. Jake had dragged Natasha off God knows where. The others were likely enjoying the company of their new Irish friends they made who boarded during the stop in Queenstown. “A good mystery could be fun. Also who does not like a happily ever after when it comes to love stories?”

“Think this journey may inspire one of the sort?” Bradley’s voice took a different turn, Y/n glancing to see he was already staring at her, a look she could only describe as adoration. It made heat rise in her, butterflies pooling that were threatening to burst from her stomach.

‘Is this what they mean when you’ve fallen in love at first sight?’

Feeling confident, returning the same gaze as Bradley, Y/n replies, “It is too early to say, but if what I feel happening is the same for you…. I find it very well could be.”

That night ended with their first kiss. Shared before the sun rose and Y/n made her leave to her room. Though she was scolded by her mother for missing breakfast due to sleeping in longer than she should have, Y/n didn’t care. The tingling sensation from where Bradley’s lips met hers remained all day, making the young woman yearn for more. A light feeling in her chest as though she was walking on a cloud. It grew stronger with each time she was with Bradley.

Hours were spent together once the night sky took over. Y/n departing for bed right after supper to get a few hours of sleep. When she awoke Natasha was knocking at her door and the two would sneak off—careful not to draw attention to themselves. The night of the 12th Bradley and Y/n crept into the area where the motor vehicles were stored. It was like a candy store for the man, who worked on cars for a living.

They’d play pretend with Bradley acting like Y/n’s driver. “My lady,” he’d say while helping her into the unlocked vehicle. “Why thank you,” her giggle made his heart skip, wishing to hear more of it. Y/n would lean over the seat between them while he leaned back, the two sharing kisses between laughs.

Two young adults living in their own little world. Slowly falling in love as the day turned into night. Each time Y/n left there would be a gaping hole in her heart. Drifting off to sleep with Bradley’s face as the last thing she saw. When the cycle continued on the 13th, all Y/n could think about was coming clean to her family. She could no longer deny there was love between her and Bradley. Despite only knowing each other for three days, Y/n saw his love for her each time they locked eyes. Every little touch had her wanting more. The words he spoke to her were like a poem, her hand itching to write them down so they stayed with her forever.

She wasn’t worried about them judging Bradley for his status. They were once in his position not even a decade ago. Discriminating him for being lower-class would make them hypocrites and just like their peers they criticize on the daily.

Y/n knew her parents wanted her to be happy. Regardless of who or where the person came from, as long as they loved and respected her then Y/n’s parents would accept them. Her happiness was their priority. It was why they constantly turned down marriage arrangements from her father’s colleagues. And when looking at all the qualities Y/n desired in a life-long partner, Bradley possessed all of them.

“Are you going to tell them?” Natasha raised her teacup to her lips, eyes unconscious flickering over the railing to find Jake. They were seated at a table, discussing the feelings rising between them and the men who’ve caught their eyes. Raising her own, Y/n followed her movements and saw Bradley kicking what appeared to be a ball with his friends and some children.

“I don’t know honestly,” she sighed, placing the teacup back on its saucer. Tiny sunglasses framed her face, protecting her eyes from the sun directly in front of her. “Do you plan on telling your family about Jake?” Now it was Natasha's turn to sigh.

“I guess I share the same fears as you. While I believe my father would approve of Jake, I’m scared he will worry too much about his public image. Of my parents, he’s the one with the most hopeful I say yes to Alan’s proposal.”

“Your mother doesn’t want you to marry Alan?”

“She doesn’t want for me to end up like her. Though she grew to love my father eventually, their marriage stemmed from their parents pressuring them,” Natasha’s gaze wandered back over to Jake. “It wasn’t until they had my siblings and I that she felt the love a wife is supposed to have from her husband—and that was because of us. Truth is, Y/n, I don’t think I see myself falling in love with Alan even if we have children.”

“Then be honest with yourself and your parents, Natasha,” Y/n finally said, declining when a server approached with more tea.

Her friend gives a look of challenge, “only if you do the same.”

“I will,” Y/n spoke confidently, before making a face of unease, adding, “when we arrive in New York.”

“And have you discussed this with him yet?” Natasha didn’t have to say Bradley’s name for her to know he was who she was referring to.

“No, but I will bring it up when I see him tonight. We’ve only a few more days till we’re stateside, that gives me time to prepare.”

Y/n was late to meet Bradley that evening due to Richard visiting her unannounced. “Apologies for the interruption this late, Y/n. But do you have a moment?” It took her by surprise, casting a worried glance to Natasha who mirrored it.

“Um, of course. Nat, I’m going to step out for a minute. I’ll be right by the door,” a nod from her friend and Y/n stepped into the corridor, closing the door so it was slightly ajar. “Yes, Richard?”

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior on Wednesday,” the words shocked her, Y/n visibly reacting to them as though she was in disbelief he was actually saying them. “I mean no offense to you and feel as though I was misunderstood in what I was trying to say.” It took every nerve of her to not roll her eyes. Of course he was trying to pass it off as her not understanding him. He was only a few words shy of calling her over dramatic. “If you allow me, I’d like for you to reconsider my proposal of courtship.”

Y/n stated the obvious, “You never offered a proposal, Richard. I took my departure before any proposal could be made.” Naturally he didn’t expect her to point out his flaw, thinking he could get away with gaslighting her into believing she rejected him when in fact there was no rejection at all.

Quickly Richard attempted to improvise, “Well, then allow me to make one now,” he removed his hat, placing it over his chest in a slight bow, “Would you do me the honor of courting you in hopes a beautiful, highly respected marriage may blossom out of?”

Now she was put on the spot, heart increasing well over the average beats per minute. No doubt Natasha was listening in, equally as anxious to hear what Y/n would say. Mentally cursing, Y/n fumbled over her words, “I-I…I must discuss this with my father in the morning. Surely you understand, Richard,” of course she wanted to say no, but without her father with her Y/n feared the outcome. Even with Natasha behind the door, there was no saying Richard could react negatively to rejection. “I cannot give you an answer just yet. B-but you shall have one by tomorrow evening.”

Though Richard obviously didn’t like her answer, he did a job of concealing it, “Of course. It was foolish of me to come so late in the evening—and to assume you’d agree without consultation. Please, take all the time and I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/n.” Once he was gone, Y/n leaned against her door and released a breath she had been holding, Natasha bolting from her chair with a, “What the hell was that?!”

After explaining in depth the details Natasha couldn’t hear and a much needed vent to cool off, the two finally made their way to the third-class deck just after midnight. They found Jake and Bradley in the meeting spot they’d established, sharing a cigar and asking what took them so long. The nervousness in Y/n’s demeanor worried Bradley, who gently pulled her away to give them privacy, “What’s wrong?” The one question had Y/n spilling everything off her chest. From Richard and his stupid proposal to her wanting Bradley to meet her parents.

“I’m very overwhelmed and don’t know what to do,” she cried, eyes lining with unshed tears threatening to spill. “The man is already acting as though I’ve said yes and there’s no way in hell I am going to end up in a loveless marriage for my entire life—not when you’ve taken claim to my heart, though it seems foolish to think you could fall in love with someone in just three days a-and I worry my family is going to say absurd things about your status when it shouldn’t define you because you, Bradley, are the most perfect man I’ve ever met and I love you—.” Her last words are cut off when Bradley’s lips meet her. Large hands cupping her cheeks, the scuff on his face burning her chin as the kiss turns more passionate. Y/n’s hands fly to his hair, soft curls against her fingertips and the woman letting out a light moan when Bradley slips his tongue into her mouth in what people would call French kissing.

Pressing her chest further into his, Y/n feels his arms fall to her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground all while continuing to keep his lips on hers. The wind brushes through her hair, cool air sending chills along her otherwise flaring skin.

“I love you,” he finally whispers against her lips, saying it once more before retraining them to hers. Nothing is said for the remainder of the night, the two finding claim to a storage room where they make love until dawn. The only sound exchanged are hot pants of breath and sighs, Y/n’s nails digging into Bradley’s back while his arms cradle her like she was made of glass. He brings her to a climax so many times she loses count. Moans grew louder to the point she feared someone would walk by and hear them. Bradley swallowed each with a kiss, holding her hand and becoming lost within her. If cloud nine was what she felt when with Bradley, then at that moment she was experiencing euphoria. Feeling the reminisce of him lingering inside her well after they were done.

Basking in the afterglow, Y/n laid her head on Bradley’s chest and felt his fingers trail along her back, making her release a sound of bliss, “Where are you going when we dock?”

It takes a second for him to answer, sleep threatening to consume the man, “Back to New Jersey with the guys—see my Godfather and probably go back to working in his shop. What about you?”

“My studies end in late May so I will return to school for the time being,” she replied, lifting her head slightly to see into his eyes. They were the same as hers. Content, blissed, overwhelmed with happiness. “After that….I do not know. My father I think wishes for me to assist him and my brother with the business. But I’d like to travel—see different places on my own.”

“You know,” Bradley hums, a smirk forming on his mouth, “New Jersey is only a short drive from New York—actually it’s across the harbor, the ferry will get you there quicker.” Y/n’s own lips curled up.

“Are you implying I come visit you in New Jersey, Mr. Bradshaw?”

“Only a mere suggestion Miss. L/n,” he defended, cheekiness in his tone. He then becomes serious, hand cupping the side of her face, “I don’t plan on letting you go after this. My heart won’t allow it. It won’t go on without you.”

It was probably the most romantic thing Y/n had ever heard. Better than any writing on paper and forever engraved into her mind. “I don’t think mine will either.”

All throughout the 14th, Y/n was in a constant inner battle with herself. Wondering how to approach the topic of Bradley to her parents and declining Richard’s proposal. Once they learn she’s no longer a maiden Y/n worried about what their reaction would be. If her father would make Bradley marry her right then and there—not that she would mind honestly but she didn’t know if Bradley wanted the same.

“What is wrong today, my dear,” Y/n flinched from the sudden intrusion. Coming up beside her was her father, placing a hand on the railing in her typical spot on the deck. Natasha had stepped away to find a powder room, leaving Y/n to herself until her father appeared. “You appear to be in distress. I find it difficult you can be in such a state when you’ve got a view like this,” he gestures with his hand to the scene in front of them. Nothing but the beautiful ocean and clear skies, the scene straight from a painting.

“I am only deep in my thoughts, father,” Y/n fidgeted with the material on her dress sleeves, looking away when she saw Bradley as the memory of that morning flashed in her mind. “Thinking about my studies and what to do after.” She heard her father make a ‘humph’ sound.

“Nothing to do with your little admirer then?”

Instantly her stomach fell, heat flaring within her, eyes wide like saucer. Snapping her head to her father, she found his gaze forward and when she followed it, Bradley stood in her vision. Dread consumed her, quickly trying to play it off, “I-I…I don’t know what you mean.” A chuckle fills her ears.

“Darling, I may be getting old but I still have eyes and ears,” a hand rests on her shoulder, pulling her closer. “Do you not think I’ve noticed a shift in you these last few days? Ever since Wednesday’s luncheon you’ve spent every moment of your time on the deck. The knowing glances between you and Natasha—how you two come to this spot every day and spend hours watching those fellas over there,” he lifts his finger to point in their general direction. Crinkles appear beside his eyes when his lips curl, “Not to mention I checked your room the other night to find it vacant. Then when I went to have my late night cigar, I saw you in the distance creeping out of the stairwell with Natasha—but you weren’t alone. Those fellas were with you..” his voice becomes softer while Y/n’s heart picks up pace. “And I know the face of someone smitten. And that one over there—,” he points directly at Bradley, who stood frozen when he looked up to find them staring at them. “He’s smitten with you, my dear girl. Trust me, I know, it’s how I look at your mother.”

While she felt a sudden rush of calmness from her father’s implied approval, the linger of worry still remained. “Are you upset with me, dad?”

“What for, Y/n?”

“Because…” She struggles to find the words and lets out a sound of frustration. “Ugh—I know you are not one to invest your time in gossip but I still cannot help but worry. About how people will view you and all the work you did to give us this life—with these high expectations of who I’ll marry and for me to—.”

He stops her before she could finish, “do you love him?” She’s taken aback by the question, stuttering at his bluntness.

“It—it’s only been four days—.”

“I knew I loved your mother within two,” he tells her, still smiling to help put her at ease. “But let’s not make it a competition. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you love him, Y/n.”

“I do,” she falls to a whisper, finally answering when she locks eyes with Bradley. She could tell he was worried for her, slight strain in his face as though he was trying to decipher what the two were discussing. Offering a small smile in hopes to show it was all okay, Y/n says, “I think I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him he’d be someone important to me. But then talking to him every night since we departed England has only confirmed what I already know. My heart belongs to him.”

With the seal of approval from her father, Y/n spent the rest of the day avoiding Richard—even hiding when she caught him and his father walking the deck in a hurry, as though they were searching for something. More like someone.

She and Natasha had supper in Natasha’s suite, gushing over their newfound happiness with their lovers. Y/n wrote in her diary every single detail so as to not forget it when she got older, capturing the memories in writing. While braiding Natasha’s hair the two discussed the brunette's plans for when they docked. “I’m going to come clean to my parents,” Natasha declared, trying not to move while Y/n finished with the first of two braids. “Tell Alan I cannot marry him and let him know I’m spoken for. He’ll understand…I hope. And for my father he will learn to accept it if he has any objections.”

“I’m happy for you, Nat,” Y/n smiled at her through the mirror. “Truly I am. You deserve to be happy—and Jake is smitten with you.”

“As is Bradley with you,” Natasha smirked, causing her friend to look away shyly. “Oh don’t be shy about it now! I know what took place this morning.” At Y/n’s horrified expression, Natasha laughed, “You were way more tired than usual when we returned to our room. And I couldn’t help but notice a slight struggle when you walked.”

“Good heavens, Natasha!” Y/n let go of the hair to cover her face with her hands, cheeks hot from embarrassment.

“Was it nice?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” eyebrows wiggled at her, Natasha giggling as Y/n playfully tagged at the braid before moving to the next one. Moving on from the subject the two finished getting ready until it was the typical time for them to leave, silently thanking whoever above that Richard did not find her. She’d have to confront him eventually. It was that or pray she could avoid him the remainder of the journey—which was only a couple more days.

Bradley lifted her in the arm when she met him, capturing her lips in a kiss before placing tiny ones over her face. It made her giggle, his scruff tickling with each kiss. “Everything okay today?” was the first thing he asked, “I saw you and who I assume to be your father this afternoon. Looked to be a serious conversation.”

“He’s aware of our endeavors,” she spoke truthfully, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the inevitable. At his anxious eyes she was quick to explain, “He knows I’ve been sneaking at night to see you—he caught me returning to my room. He doesn’t know about this morning….” She watched him bite back a smile, her own forming as the memory resurfaced. “But from our conversation, my father has no objections about us. He wishes to meet you once we dock.”

“He does?” His tone was surprised, Y/n nodding to show she was serious.

“Yes. I told him about your work and he was impressed. Is….is that okay with you?” Her voice goes low, fearful of his answer. A hand cupped her face, holding her gaze to his and Y/n felt her heart nearly stop at the love in his eyes.

“I would be honored to meet your father, Y/n. It disappoints me we have to wait, but I would wait longer if it means I get to receive his blessing.” Before she could say anything else he kissed her, thumb brushing over her cheek making Y/n sigh with bliss. There was no way she could let go of Bradley after they arrived in America. Even if her father had disapproved of them she’d find a way to see him.

Chills run along her body causing Y/n to shudder, the air suddenly dropping in temperature. The reaction has Bradley pull away, “Are you getting cold?”

“A little,” she mentally cursed herself for deciding on a dress instead of trousers and a coat. It was one of her old ones from when she was fifteen. It was ivory colored and a little worn out from wearing it so often as it had been Y/n’s favorite until she got the privilege of purchasing high quality clothing. Though a little tight on her figure it still fit rather good on her.

Removing his jacket, Bradley pulled it around her shoulders before fixing her hair and ignored her protests. It was freezing outside, their breath visible. Surely Bradley would freeze to death as his long shirt would do nothing to combat the cold.

“There you go, doll.” Her reaction to the nickname had him grin, “That should warm you up. Though I could think of another—.”

“Shall I remind you, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re in the presence of a lady and you should refrain from insinuating such scandalous remarks.” Biting his lip, Bradley leans down to hoarsely whisper, grinning at the gasp she releases when she feels his breath hit her ear.

“I don’t recall you reminding me this morning…”

The heat Y/n felt rivaled a fire in a chimney. Consuming her with every inch of her being, she could do nothing but grin while Bradley hid his face in her neck, peppering kisses throughout.

For the next hour they laid on one of the benches, talking of what their lives would be together as the stars danced above them. Y/n pointing out constellations from time to time, making a point to identify Sirius, the brightest star of all. They laughed. They kissed. They dreamed of the future. What their house would look like, “At least two stories. With a big backyard and a dining table to fit ten people.” How many kids they’d have, “Two would be nice, but I wouldn’t mind three. A little mini you and me running around.” If they’ll have animals, “a dog of course. Ooh—a chicken to have fresh eggs for breakfast and possibly a couple of goats.”

It was perfect. Complete and utter bliss.

But that disappeared in the blink of an eye. Right as the clock struck 11:40 pm.

“What’s happening?” Y/n lifted off of Bradley’s chest, sitting up straight by the sound of people shouting on the decks above. Following her suit, Bradley made a motion to stand when he caught sight of Jake and Natasha running toward them.

“What is it?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Jake was out of breath, face red with worry. “But I think I heard someone yell about an iceberg—.” An ugly sound rocketed before Jake could finish his sentence. Jolting movement on the ship deck had them all stumble, Y/n clutching onto Bradley’s side as his arm met her waist. Moments later an intimidatingly large iceberg appeared in their view. Slowly moving as the ship literally whined with effort to avoid collision. But it was to no avail as more striking sounds of ice hitting metal echoed in the night. Pieces fell onto the deck, the four moving slightly aback.

Moments later the ship's engines stopped. Dazed and confused by what they witnessed. Titanic had hit an iceberg. A large one at that. The sound alone was an indicator of how bad the collision was. Stressed shouts of crew members only further confirmed it.

They were left to wonder what would happen next. Were they waiting for the crew to assess the damage before restarting the engines? Would they even be able to? Were they already sending signals to other ships about their collision?

Leaning over the railing, Y/n found the reflection of Titanic’s lights staring back at her. The water was eerily calm, no doubt below freezing. Several other icebergs could be made out in the distance surrounding the ship if she squinted her eyes. With no moon in the sky it made it difficult to see.

Y/n anxiety increased when the thought crossed her mind, ‘Are we going to sink?’ She removed the thought as it appeared. No. There’s no way the Titanic would sink. She was deemed unsinkable by everyone involved in the making of her. She was designed to remain afloat even if four water compartments were flooded.

‘It’ll be alright,’ Y/n thought silently, trying to convince herself more than anything.

But that didn’t last long when Bradley and Jake’s friends rushed over not even twenty minutes later, their nightwear drenched in water and fear coating their eyes. “It’s flooding down there,” Mickey huffed, “all over the floors.” Passengers filled the deck, families huddled together as they awaited information. Mickey’s news sent dread to the young women. Flooding was never a good sign.

Something in Y/n’s gut was telling her to find her family. “I-I need to go,” she glanced at Natasha first and then Bradley, “I should find my father. T-they may know more on the upper deck a-and are not telling us how serious it is down here.” Bradley looked hesitant to let her go, Y/n’s voice turning softer, “I’ll come back. I promise I will—a-and I’ll find out what’s happening.”

“I’ll go with you,” Nat removed herself from Jake, the man wearing the same face as Bradley. “We should go now while the crew are distracted.” Without consulting further, Y/n picked up the skirt of her dress and hurried away with Natasha trailing behind. They made it past each deck, racing up the grand staircase to the level Y/n’s parents were to find them in evident distress. Several other members of their circle were also there.

One look at her father and Y/n’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Dad…” it took everything to remain calm, realizing her hands started to shake when he took them in hers. “What’s happening?” He didn’t want to admit the truth she already knew, but as she squeezed his hands the words left him, confirming the worst.

“Titanic’s taking on water,” the choked gasp was audible no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Her father squeezed her hand, “They’re preparing the lifeboats—you two should go gather some belongings to take with you.” At the mention of lifeboats Y/n mentally thought back to the ones she’d seen lining the ship deck. Counting, her heart further shrieked at the number she summed.

“There's only twenty,” she whispered, horror on her face. “T-there’s got to be three thousand people on this ship. Wha-what—how are they going to save everyone?!” Her voice grew louder with each word. Suddenly she went quiet, the realization hitting her. Behind her Natasha gasped, also realizing the obvious.

All the lifeboats were on the boat deck. Right above the first-class one.

“O-oh my God. They’re not going to be able to save everyone.”

“Y/n—,” her hands slipped from his grasp, “Y/n!!” She was running, skirts dragging along her ankles as she hurried down the path she’d just come from. Urgent footsteps behind her signaled Natasha following, the two women bumping into people without apologizing. Tears lined her eyes the entire way, wishing it was all a horrible nightmare she was going to awake from at any moment.

When she finally found Bradley she collided with him, oblivious to the fact his trousers were soaked in water. Too frantic she made no mind to ask where it came from. “We’re sinking,” she cried against his chest. Even in his arms it did nothing to ease her fear. “The ship’s sinking.”

“Wh-at? No, that’s not possible.”

“She’s unsinkable!”

“It must be a mistake—I’m sure they are working it out as we speak.”

It was utter chaos from then on out. Minutes passed where slowly the passengers would realize the extent of the situation. Cries of children and babies were heard, their parents attempting to calm them despite their own emotions surfacing. Y/n rushed to her suite with Bradley, the man unable to contain his awe at how luxurious the first-class compartments were. He stood like a fish out of water as she flung open her small makeup bag to place her diary, ticket, the few photos she had, and whatever small compatible items Y/n thought were valuable. Clothing and anything else could be replaced.

The door flying open caused her to shriek, Bradley stepping back when Y/n’s father appeared in the doorway. He let out an audible sigh of relief when his eyes landed on her, “Where have you been?” He stepped further into the room, Y/n’s mother and brother trailing behind. All froze at the sight of Bradley standing with her, her father being the only one to recognize him.

“Who’s this?” Said her mother, not shying from looking Bradley up and down. It made him blush, glancing at Y/n for help. But she was also at a loss for words.

“This is the boy I was telling you about. Now as much as I wish we were meeting in any other circumstance,” her father strolled up, closing the bag for Y/n and pulling into his hands while using his free hand to gently push her toward the door, “We need to get to the boat deck this instant.” As they were coming out they met Natasha and Jake, Bradley asking his friend where the others were.

“I don’t know,” Jake stressfully removed his messenger boy hat to run a hand through his hair, “Mickey went to find that girl he’d been shacking up with and Javy I-I thought was behind me.” Bradley gulps, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“We’ll find them,” he firmly states. “We’ll find them all.”

When they reached the boat deck they were faced with the grim reality. Less than two dozen lifeboats would not be enough to get Titanic’s 2,500 passengers to safety. She was going to take many down with her. Time was their emissary. Slowly ticking away by the second.

Coming to the end of the first hour since impact, Bradley brings Y/n’s attention to him when he sees they were only allowing women and children into the boats. Crew members were telling passengers it was only minor damage and they were only putting them in the boats for precaution. Sparks from flares shot into the sky, with hope neighboring ships would notice.

Bradley stared deeply into the eyes he loved, “Marry me.” The question stops the world around them, Y/n’s eyes becoming wide as saucers.

“W-what?”

“Marry me, Y/n,” his tone is serious. “Right now on this ship. Under the stars you love while in front of your family and our friends—i-if tonight…” he trails off, voice becoming shaky. It brings tears to Y/n’s eyes at what he was trying to say. “If tonight is my last night I don’t want to waste another second.” The reason he said ‘my’ instead of ‘our’ last night was knowing deep in his heart Y/n would likely survive instead of him. She would get on a boat and hopefully be rescued.

“Yes,” she whispered, no sign of hesitation in the answer. All the love she felt emitting with one word.

And so the unthinkable happened not a mere ten minutes later. Y/n standing in front of Bradley, hands entwined as the ship’s Chaplin read off vows they repeated. Y/n’s family had tears in their eyes, as did Natasha, Jake, and their friends—who managed to find them at the right moment. Other passengers stopped and stared, some looking on with unreadable expressions, mostly women who found the sight bittersweet. It was almost fitting considering Y/n was wearing a near-white dress.

When asked about exchanging rings Y/n went to say, “no rings,” but Bradley stopped her.

“I have this actually,” his hand goes to his trouser pocket, “It’s not a ring but I think it’ll do.” Removing what could only be described as the most beautiful necklace Y/n had laid eyes on, her mouth parted in disbelief. Diamonds lined the chain, coming down to surround a large blue heart-shaped gem. “It’s a diamond,” Bradley said softly, making Y/n’s eyes widen even more. Wondering how he acquired such a magnificent piece of jewelry that looked like it was worth more than anything she owned.

He must’ve read her mind because Bradley was quick to explain, “My father gave this to my mother when he proposed to her. He got it from his mother, who received it from his father on their wedding day. He never told me how our family came into possession of it, but I once heard him refer to it as the ‘Heart of the Ocean’.” How fitting when they were in the middle of the ocean, and Y/n had become the owner of his heart. “It’s been passed down from Bradshaw to Bradshaw as a gift from a husband to wife. My mother made sure to give it to me before she died,” bringing the necklace around her neck while still facing her, Bradley secured it into place, adjusting it so the heart laid on her chest. Above her own beating heart. “And now it’s yours.”

Hand coming up to her chest, Y/n felt the smooth cut edges of the diamond, tears falling from her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she croaked, sniffing from the overwhelming emotion. “Thank you. I’ll protect it with my life. H-how did you—.”

“Before you came back to find me I made sure to grab it from my room.” So that’s why his pants were soaked. He went to get the necklace before the compartment flooded.

“I-I,” she stuttered, glancing behind to peer at her father. “I don’t have anything—.”

“Worry not, my dear girl,” the watch he always wore unclipped from his wrist. It was his favorite one, the only item he splurged on before they became wealthy. And now he was given it to Y/n’s husband.

“I can’t take this,” Bradley goes to object, but her father silences him. Y/n kisses the older man’s cheek, whispering “thank you,” as she takes the watch before placing it onto Bradley’s wrist.

“By the power invested in me,” the two hold hands once more, letting the tears fall freely. “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Chaplin turns to Bradley, “You may kiss your bride.”

Warm hands cup Y/n’s cheek, lips meeting in the middle to seal the act. No longer was she kissing the handsome stranger who caught her eye aboard the ship of dreams. She was kissing her husband. The man she was to grow old with. To explore the world. Raise children together.

Their fairytale was only beginning. But tragedy was on the horizon. Ending the journey before it could start.

Their friends clapped and cheered, her mother cried. Passengers and crew members witnessing offered nods of congratulations. Before long the happy moment was gone and replaced with the dread once more at the reality facing them. At first Y/n thought Jake and Natasha would marry next, spotting a ring on her friend’s left hand.

“It’s his class ring,” Natasha softly said, admiring the jewelry with glistening eyes. “I told him I’ll marry him once we reach land.” Taking her hand, Y/n squeezes and offers a small, encouraging smile, “We’ll make it the wedding of your dreams.”

The hour reached a half after one, almost two whole since the iceberg struck Titanic. They all gathered to the edge of the boat deck, Y/n’s father ordering her, her mother, and Natasha to put one on. As they did they could hear the crew member shout the same thing he’d been shouting the last hour and half. “Women and children! I need women and children!”

It was then Y/n realized why her father and Bradley were slowly moving them closer. “No,” she whispered, turning fully around. Over Bradleys shoulder she spotted her father speaking to her mother. Behind her children were crying out for their daddies. “I’m not going without you.” His hands met her shoulders. “Don’t ask me to get in that boat, Bradley.”

“You have to.”

“No.”

He squeezed her jacket clad shoulders, “Y/n, please do this for me. Get in the boat with your mother and Natasha. You guys will be safer there.”

“And leave you here!” She shouted, not caring who heard. Here was her newly wedded husband saying goodbye. “You married me not even ten minutes ago—a-and you’re already telling me to leave!?”

“As your husband I’m ensuring you make it off this ship safely! That is my priority—that you’re safe!” His own voice raises, hand going to Y/n’s jaw to force her to look at him when she fights his hold. Bradley was doing his best to keep calm for her sake, not wanting her last image of him to be where he’s scared out of his mind. Though the crew made efforts to conceal the truth, Bradley wasn’t blind. The water was rising closer to the deck, submerging the lower floors past the point of fixing.

Titanic was sinking.

“Don’t ask me to leave you,” Y/n closed her eyes, lip trembling to hold back the sob threatening to escape. “My heart won’t go on without you, Bradley.” It wouldn’t allow her to. Bradley was the keeper of her entire soul. Losing him would destroy her.

“Look at me,” his thumb caressed her cheek, running over her bottom lip to wipe the stray tear. When her eyes opened, Bradley brought her into a kiss. “I’ll find you,” he said pulling away, “Get it in that boat and I promise I will find you when this is all over. I won’t stop till I do.”

“N-no—.”

“I promise you, baby,” he says again, tightening the hold on her. “I will see you again.”

A choked sob left Y/n, pressing her lips to his desperately, the taste of salt hitting her tongue from the tears mixing in. “O-okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, offering a watery smile. “Hey, I’m the luckiest bastard in the world. You’ve made me so.” They kiss once more, Y/n being passed to her father. She leaps into his arms, shaking against him when he tells her he’ll always love her and to take care of her mother.

“Thank you, daddy,” she cries, nuzzling her face into his chest and not wanting to let go. She didn’t have to explain because he already knew the meaning behind her words. ‘Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for always believing in me. Thank you for letting me open my heart to him and giving your blessing. Thank you for loving me.’

“I love you, my dear girl,” his lips meet the crown of her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

After hugging goodbye to her brother, who was refused by crew to board with them since he was seventeen and viewed as a young man rather than a child, Y/n followed behind Natasha and her mother onto the lifeboat. A crew member assisted, taking her hand, “watch your step, madam,” Y/n’s heart raced with each step, falling to the seat on the edge of the aisle, closest to where Bradley stood.

“I love you!” He shouted to her, going as far to lean over the railing of the ship, Y/n rising enough from her seat to offer one last kiss. It was brief, but she poured all her emotion behind it. A shout from the man in charge of the lifeboat yelled for her to sit and Y/n unwillingly listened. All the way down Y/n kept her eyes on Bradley, briefly meeting those of her father and brother. Jake was next to her husband, no doubt watching Natasha seated next to her.

Even when they landed on the water Y/n could not relax. As the crewmen paddled them away, the sight of Titanic was more frightening than she imagined. Growing worse by the minute. The dark blue section of Titanic lower levels were nearly submerged leaving only the decks above the surface.

“I thought it was unsinkable,” a lady gasped, making murmurs of worry echo among the passengers. Y/n shared a look with Natasha, finding the same emotion etched in the other's eyes. It increased when an unpleasant noise filled their ears, snapping their heads to see the rear of Titanic rising in the air, the front completely foregone in the sea. Without realizing it Y/n had stood from her seat, face wretched with horror.

“Oh my God.”

Hands flew to her mouth, gasps radiating behind at the sight of Titanic going dark. Barely could Y/n make out the vessel due to little light without the moon. It made Y/n strain her eyes, desperate to see what was happening. Praying to whoever above Bradley and her family aboard was on the side of the ship still afloat. Y/n’s breathing increased, feeling Natasha stand beside her.

Everything happened so fast after that. What sounded like gunshots rang out mixed with the screams of those still aboard fighting to make it in time to the rear of the ship. Metal and wood crunching caused bile to fill in her mouth, feeling nauseated by the overwhelming panic.

Whimpers escaped Y/n, becoming full force sobs when a horrible *crack* echoed in the night. Titanic had been split in half. And though hard to see in the dark, the sound alone of the moaning ship sent her into despair. Within minutes the rear half of Titanic lifted once more, fully disappearing out of view forever, leaving the cries of her passengers stranded in the 26 degree water desperately fighting to stay alive.

Y/n dropped to her knees, cries mixing with everyone else. The scene was too much to handle. Screams echoing in the darkness, utter misery to show the terror. She didn’t want to imagine how many people were trapped when the ship sank. All she pictured was Bradley’s face. His smile when the lifeboat descended. That one last look of love.

Then Y/n thought of her father and brother. Were they already at the bottom of the ocean? Or were they part of the hundreds screaming in the distance? The sound that was slowly becoming lower signaling their battle was with cold water was ending. Whatever the case Y/n didn’t want to picture their dead bodies—the thought only made her more devastated.

She cried for her mother. She cried for Natasha—who was in the same state as her. She cried for those on the lifeboat. But mostly Y/n cried for herself. For what could have been

For what should have been.

The screams soon drowned out. Leaving a ghostly silence as Y/n’s sobs returned to whimpers. Soon the exhaustion took over and she fell asleep against her mother’s chest. The cold air was a painful reminder of what had taken place. When Y/n awoke it was to the sounds of engines and for a moment she thought it had all been a nightmare. She’d find herself in bed with the sun peering in from the window. Hearing the footsteps of passengers leaving their suits to attend breakfast. And she’d go about her day the same way until it came time to see Bradley.

But it wasn’t a dream. Confirmed when her eyes opened to the dark skies turning an array of colors from the sun rising in the east. First she felt panic, then came the anguish and soon she was silently crying as her heart broke in two, hand coming to hold the diamond on her chest.

RMS Carpathia was their saving Grace. Y/n was pretty much a walking shell of a woman, reluctantly allowing the crew to help her onto the ship. A blanket was placed around her shoulders, a hot tea in her hand, the saucer shaking from her slight tremor. Guiding her mother and Natasha to a spot away from others, Y/n made no effort to drink the tea. She had no energy even though it would warm her up.

A piece of her was missing—forever lost in the ocean.

People stood at the entryway of where passengers were coming in. Hoping to find their loved ones among the survivors. Seeing Natasha peek around to get a better look, Y/n plainly said, “What are you doing?” Her tone was void of emotion, depicting her mental state.

“I heard someone say one of the lifeboats went back—they were searching for survivors in the water.” Instantly a wave of hope rose within her though Y/n was careful to not let it grow. Scared it’d only be met with heartbreak.

But then sandy hair caught her vision causing the teacup to fall from her hand, contents splashing onto the deck. “Y/n?” She ignored her mother, moving to stand on top of the bench a few feet away to overlook the crowd. Heart racing, she desperately searched for the owner of the sandy hair. She didn’t have to search too long.

“BRADLEY!!” The strangled cry escaped her, the man that stood roughly thirty feet away spinning around in a flash he nearly broke his neck. Y/n could see a girl resembling her beside him, Bradley possibly thinking it’d been her and was disappointed to find it wasn’t. Their eyes met, a mix of astonishment and relief, but most of all pure love pouring into their expression.

“Bradley!” Y/n yelled again, dropping from the bench just as he started to run in her direction. It was like slow motion. Y/n pushing through the crowd, frantically keeping her eyes on him to not lose sight.

“Y/n!” She heard him yell. The crowd between them separated and not a moment later Y/n was leaping into his arms, a sound mixed between a cry and laugh falling from her mouth.

“Oh God,” it was really him. He smelled of sea salt and shook like a leaf, but it was him, Y/n pulling away from the embrace just to make sure. “It’s really you.” His hands cupped her cheek, the feeling all too familiar.

“It’s me.”

“Y-you….I thought you were dead!” A tear trailed her cheek, his thumb moving to wipe it. “I saw the ship sink—and I could not see where you’d gone. How—?”

“The boat that came back,” he started to explain, voice shaking from the cold making Y/n stop a man with teacups, handing one to her husband. “I-I was on a piece of driftwood. It kept me from being…being in the water—.” He gulped, flinching as his eyes watered before closing them. Like he was trying to avoid the painful memory.

Now it was Y/n’s turn to hold his face, offering comfort in the best way she could.

“I-I tried get-getting them on but it was too small for a-all of us. Y-your….” He didn’t want to meet her eyes, shame and guilt visible in his face. “Your father wouldn’t get on—no matter h-how much I told him to. Your brother…” he trailed off, tears spilling from his eyes and Y/n brushed them away while fighting her own. Understanding what Bradley was trying to tell her. “And the others…..wh-what they held onto wasn’t enough to keep them out. I-I thought they’d be okay—I kept calling to them when I saw the boat—b-but they wouldn’t—they wouldn’t answer.” The last word ended with a sob, Bradley’s head dropping down onto Y/n’s shoulders as she held him.

They cried together, Y/n cradling the back of his neck with a hand and feeling the rock of his shoulders against her. Mourning the loss of their friends and family. Y/n grieving the death of her father and brother. When her mother and Natasha arrived, both with hopeful eyes turning into despair in seconds. Seeing Bradley in her arms knowing he was on the boat with the other survivors pulled from the water. Neither Jake nor Y/n’s father and brother with him.

Y/n felt Bradley remove himself from her hold. He looked broken, a shell of a man. Placing a hand in his pocket, they watched him take out an item they couldn’t make out. Only when he unfolded it did they realize what it was.

Jake’s hat.

Natasha let out a gut wrenching weep, covering her face with the hat when Bradley handed it to her before falling to her knees. “I’m so sorry,” a fresh wave of tears threatened to escape, Bradley unable to look at her without feeling the guilt for not saving the man she loved. Y/n moved to hold her friend, Natasha clutching onto her forearm while her mother silently grieved beside them.

All around them was a similar scene. Haunting and dreary. Completely different from the joyous celebration not even a week prior when Titanic sailed off on her maiden voyage. Carrying close to 2,300 people across the Atlantic. Some traveling to America for the first time or were on their way home. Now at least 700 of those passengers were on the Carpathia while the other 1,400 belonged to the sea.

The ship’s crew went around to collect names. Recording them to make it easier when going through the logs when they docked to account for all who survived and persisted. Y/n nearly forgot what name she was supposed to give. Boarding Titanic as a L/n but leaving as a Bradshaw. At the crew man’s confused eyes by the hyphenated name she gave Y/n simply stated, “We married as she sank, but the records will show Y/n L/n.”

Three days. It took three days for Carpathia to arrive in New York. The Statue of Liberty greeted her like an old friend, the people she carried unable to enjoy the scenery they’d been anticipating for so long. The sky rained as though it were crying in mourning. Grieving the lost souls instead of welcoming them.

When the ship docked, Y/n held onto her bag in one hand and Bradley’s arm on the other. Her mother and Natasha followed behind, displaying their grief in every movement. Stepping foot onto the pavement, Y/n let out a breath she’d been holding, feeling only a glimmer of relief at the fact they were home. “What now?” Bradley squeezed her hand, conveying everything in the simple gesture.

“We go on,” he admires the skyline briefly, settling his eyes on hers. “As best as we can we go on. We go on for them.”

“My mother was never the same after that night,” the cracking of wood in the fireplace echoed behind Y/n’s words while she sat on the couch beside Bradley in their sunken living room. Cynthia was across from them, wiping at her puffy face from time to time. Unable to control her emotions.

Y/n’s left middle finger unconsciously traced over the jewelry on her right hand. Her mother’s wedding rings. And nestled beneath her blouse was the necklace worth more than what remained of her family’s fortune.

“She nearly sent herself into an early grave trying to stabilize the business my father built from the ground up. Difficult to do back then when men wouldn’t respect a woman's authority,” Y/n smiles fondly at the memory of her mothers strong willed temperament. “My mother was an intelligent woman. She always prepared for the worst at times. And when deciding what to do about the company, she wanted to make sure our family would be okay if disaster were to strike again. It was like she predicted the fall of the stock market—-preventing us from being affected by selling our shares and interests years before the crash even happened.”

Cynthia thought of her grandmother. How hard it must’ve been to lose her husband and son so suddenly then having to become the face of the family. Her daughter discovering she hadn’t bleed since the week prior to boarding Titanic, the family doctor confirming the pregnancy not a day later. Never remarrying despite the many suitors itching to get a hand on the L/n fortune. Cynthia thought of how her grandmother would wake up bright and early every morning to watch the sunrise. Remembering the smell of her perfume and taking Cynthia and her sister to her favorite bistro for afternoon tea. Teaching them how to be independent women. Even on her deathbed as the illness consumed her right as America joined the Second World War, Y/n’s mother never lost her strength. Thinking of the memories had Cynthia missing her.

“And what about Natasha?” In all the years she’d been alive, Cynthia only heard her parents mention Natasha a handful of times. Each one was met with a distant look in her mother’s eyes, followed by grief until she thought of a happy memory associated with her, causing a small smile to form on her Y/n’s lips.

“She was never the same either,” the answer came with a sad exhale. “After reuniting with her family, Natasha spent several weeks at their family home. I visited her often while I finished my studies and did my best to comfort her in any way she needed. She ended up accepting Alan’s marriage proposal, but on the condition that they travel across America first before being wed. The journey would last several months, but in the end they wedded in Manhattan in the winter of 1913 and welcomed a son and daughter soon after,” the memory of Y/n holding Natasha’s son in the hospital flashed in her mind. “They were happy. As happy as they could be. But Alan, the amazing man he was, knew he couldn’t live up to what Jake was to her. The impact he made on Natasha’s heart. Yes, she grew to love Alan eventually—the birth of their children being the main reason she did—but he was not her true love. And he accepted that,” Y/n felt the lump form in her throat. As it always did when she thought about what came next for her friend.

Bradley’s hand rested on her knee, offering consultation knowing it was hard for her to think about Natasha. Her fingers interlaced with his, swallowing back the lump.

“After the end of the War—the first one—Natasha was traveling with her children home from a weekend visiting her parents. It was late and raining, difficult to see….a vehicle ran the sign and plowed straight into them.” Cynthia didn’t hear the soft gasp leave her mouth, her mother’s own tightening to prevent her lip from quivering. “She was gone instantly. Her children too. Alan was a mess as you can imagine—drowning himself in alcohol daily until I stepped in….”

“Wake up, Alan!” Y/n’s palm met his cheek after knocking the bottle from his hand. “What is the matter with you? Is this how you want to die?” She gripped the labels of his stained dress shirt to make him look at her, voice rising with each word. “By wasting away like some goddamn bum when you could be living for them. By continuing on instead of disgracing yourself or their memory. Natasha could have done what you’re doing when Jake died. And she watched him go down, unable to do anything and hear his screams go quiet as he lost his battle with survival. How do you think she dealt with that? She had every reason to not go on. Let the grief consume her and become the shallow of the person you’re on your way toward. But she didn’t!” Y/n let her emotion release. “She went on—she lived for him! And built a life with you—and you may not believe it but Natasha did love you, Alan. Maybe not the way you wished, but she loved you and you are disgracing it by doing this to yourself! Honor her and your children by finding the strength to live for them. Because so help me God, Alan, I will not watch you waste whatever is left of your life like this. You will die alone with no one to show up when it comes time to be there. The choice is yours.”

“Did he?” Cynthia couldn’t help but ask, “Did he eventually learn to cope?”

“He did,” Y/n smiled. It was a genuine one to show she was happy her friend made it through his hard times. “Alan moved to London about a month after that visit. He wrote to us often, telling about his adventures in England and even traveling across the channel to France where he continued exploring Europe. In 1921 he met a nice woman and married. They had a son and permanently resided in London,” Y/n’s tone went lower, the smile slightly falling. “The letters stopped coming in 1943–during the Second War. I do not know to this day what happened to him. If the bombings claimed them or if he died of disease,” she sadly shrugs, “I only hope he was happy with his life. That despite losing Natasha and their kids he was able to find peace.”

“I’m sure he did,” Bradley finally enters the conversation, having been quiet for most of the time and only adding input during the moments Y/n wasn’t there for. Keeping his experience in the water after Titanic sunk short and limited. While he learned to accept what happened and cope with the grief of watching his friends die in front of him, Bradley still felt the open wound in his heart. “You stepping in is what saved him. Had you not said what you did that day, I confidently believe Alan wouldn’t have made it to the next year. Going to London saved him. All he needed was a strong push.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Cynthia broke it. “Do you think they’ll one day find her?” At the confused looks she received her voice went softer, “Titanic. Do you think she’ll ever be located?” She watched her parents take a sharp breath, like they had never thought of the idea.

“Well…” Y/n brought a hand to rub her shoulder, unconsciously moving it to touch her necklace. “I predict she’d be in the place where she sank, at the bottom of the Atlantic. Either in two pieces,” she winced, “or held together by whatever was able to withstand the pressure.”

“I’m sure if the government or whoever is that interested would be able to locate her,” Bradley comments, rubbing Y/n’s knuckles with his thumb. “But I don’t know if we’ll ever see it happen.”

The rest of the evening was filled with Cynthia hearing stories of her parents' lives before Titanic. Laughter fell between them as Bradley relayed the times he and his friends had gotten into trouble on occasion. Y/n talked about her adventures with Natasha while in college and how her father went from a working class man to one made of riches. How her brother was a mischievous child, playing pranks on the higher-class members who would say mean things about their family. Bradley spoke of Pete, his Godfather, and of his parents who were the reason he went to England in the first place in 1912 to fulfill a dream they once wished of.

When it came time to call it a night, Cynthia kissed her parents on the cheek and departed to her room, thanking them for everything and being open with her. Once in their room Y/n removed her necklace, admiring it like she always did before bed and placed it on its holding, letting her thumb run over the smooth surface. On his side Bradley unfastened his watch, placing it next to the framed sepia photo of Y/n from their official wedding day that took place in May of 1912. Next to it were other photos, some black and white, of them over the years after Titanic. Y/n in her graduation gown. Their daughters as children and teenagers, on their wedding days and the birth of their grandchildren.

Tucked into the covers, Y/n smiled at the feeling of Bradley placing a kiss on her forehead. “You okay, doll?”

“I’m good,” she answered, leaning up to press her lips to his jaw. “Are you?”

“I am. More than what I thought I’d be. But you know,” his hand goes to take hers. “Having been so many years and with you by my side every day since, It’s made it easier. When I think about that night I still feel some guilt, but I don’t let it control me. Now when I have so much to live for. You, our daughters and grandchildren. Them.” He didn’t have to say their names for her to know who he was referring to.

Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bob, Jake, Natasha, her father, her brother.

They didn’t get to experience the lives they should’ve had. So in their place, Y/n and Bradley live everyday like it’s their last. Making it count so when they reunite with them they’ll have plenty of stories to share.

“Me too,” she whispers, curling into him so her head rested on his chest. The gentle beat of his heart filled her ears, bringing ease to the old woman as she drifted off to sleep. Echoing the words Bradley spoke to her the night they docked in New York.

“We go on. We go on for them.”

54 years later. April 2012.

Amelia stared at the pictures lining the wall, under the giant lettering that read First-Class. Hazel eyes drifting over each, reading the words inscribed on the plaques before moving to the next. When she landed on the one she searched for, her gaze turned soft. The black and white picture depicted the woman at a young age, the most eye-catching detail being the heart-shaped diamond around her neck. A moment later Amelia felt movement on either side of her.

“Is that her, Nana?” Her granddaughter, Melody, asked from her right. On her left was Melody’s mother, Amelia’s daughter, Y/n. Named after the woman on the plaque in front of them.

“It is, darling.” Together they read the writing detailing her grandmother’s fate following April 15th, 1912.

Y/n L/n: February 14, 1890 — December 1, 1985

Daughter of New York real estate developer, Y/f/n L/n and his wife Y/m/n L/n. Set sail from Southampton with her parents and younger brother.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 95.

Married third-class passenger Bradley Bradshaw aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Graduated NYU May 1912. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Published romantic thrillers and a best-selling autobiography. Returned to Titanic wreckage site at age 95 in October 1985. Died from heart failure two months later.

“Wow,” Melody breathed, letting her eyes admire the beautiful woman in the photograph. Her great-great grandmother. When the idea of going to the Titanic museum on the 100th anniversary of the wreck came to her for her school project, Melody had no idea of her linkage to the disaster until the night before when her grandma Amelia said she had a confession to tell her. The whole night was spent sitting in their hotel room with Amelia relaying the story her grandmother Y/n told her when she was 12 before revealing the events of April 15th when she was 18.

Amelia’s own daughter, named after the woman who made a lasting impact on her life, hadn’t heard the tale either. She was just as shocked as Melody to learn her great-grandparents were on Titanic when she sank.

Originally Melody’s idea for her project was to discuss the impact on society the disaster made. But after hearing the story of how her great-great grandparents fell in love aboard the ship, married while it sank, and reunited on Carpathia and lived their lives in memory of the ones they lost, Melody shifted her idea, Focusing on how even when all hope seems to be lost, love finds a way to break through.

“She was beautiful.”

“She was. My grandpa said she was the most beautiful person aboard,” Amelia chuckled. “Though I think his best friend Jake would say otherwise.” Natasha, her grandmother's best friend, came to mind. Amelia takes a moment to point out Natasha’s plaque where they read her unfortunate fate. “It was love at first sight—as cliché as it sounds, but it’s the truth. Four days was all it took for my grandparents to fall in love. Waiting every detail in her diary. Marrying during the moment everyone was in a panic.” Together the three women stepped over to the opposite side of the wall where the third-class survivor plaques were. There Amelia found her grandfather’s handsome face near the top.

Bradley Bradshaw: June 10th, 1889 — September 5th, 1985

Traveled to New York from Southampton with his friends from childhood. Only one to survive after being pulled from the water having climbed onto driftwood after Titanic fully submerged.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 96.

Married first-class passenger Y/n L/n aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Became a fighter pilot for US Navy 1914. Drafted into First World War 1915. Died in his sleep four days after the wreckage of Titanic was discovered 1985.

Amelia’s smile was bittersweet, “My mother told me shortly after I learned the full story that she discovered their secret when she found her mother’s ticket tucked away in a box of newspaper clippings about the wreck. NOt too long later my grandmother shared with her the diary detailing her first-hand experiences on Titanic. The night they told her was the first time they had told the story from start to finish—telling it once again the night my grandmother shared with my sister and I how they met. Only she left out the details of that night for the sake we were too young to understand,” Amelia paused, her gaze still on her grandfather’s image. “They told us the rest when I was eighteen. After that, I don’t think I ever heard them mention Titanic until the news broke out that the shipwreck had been discovered. Four days later, my grandfather died in his sleep. His heart just stopped,” Amelia went quiet after adding. “It was like he was waiting.”

Though quiet the entire time, Amerlia’s daughter Y/n was deep in thought. Thinking back to her childhood and the short ten years she got to spend with her great-grandparents. Having been named after Y/n, they two shared a connection and even got the chance to wear the beautiful diamond necklace she always had around her neck. Little Y/n had been shielded from the media attention the family was receiving in the months after Titanic’s discovery. First the death of Bradley, then the elderly Y/n went on a secret trip she had no idea was about. Ending the year by attending her funeral that winter.

Knowing what she did now, Y/n understood why her family reacted a certain way whenever the famous ship was ever mentioned in conversation.

Melody read over the information, frowning slightly. “Do you think she died of a broken heart? Your grandma?”

“Oh I’m certain,” Amelia traveled back a few paces to see Y/n’s plaque. Careful to not bump into other guests in the exhibit. The significance of the day brought many visitors to the museum.

“Being with someone for seventy-four years..how could she go on? My mother feared the journey to the wreck site would kill her, but my grandmother was adamant she’d go. She and my grandfather never believed they’d be alive to witness the ship be located. With his death four days after, my grandmother fulfilled an unspoken promise between them. So she went with my mother and aunt—ninety five years old remember, and saw the waters one last time. One thing you should know is my grandmother never crossed the Atlantic again after 1912. My grandfather did, because of the war, but I think Y/n was waiting until Titanic was located to travel the sea again. A part of her soul was left behind that night—losing the father she adored and her brother. Then you had my grandfather’s best friends.” She took another pause, hands moving to her pockets where she felt the leather bound diary.

Y/n’s diary.

The one she wrote in her will that was to be donated to the Titanic museum on April 15, 2012. Exactly 100 years to the day that the ship of dreams became one with the sea.

“Going to the site filled that final gaping hole in her. But the loss of her true love was too much for my grandmother. And so she passed in her sleep exactly three months to the day after Titanic was found.” Amelia removed the book from her pocket, hand softly touching the rough and dated surface of the leather. “Leaving me with this to fulfill some of her last wishes.”

“Is that…..” Melody leaned closer, her mother doing the same. Both were staring at the book with wonder and awe.

“Her diary,” the older woman confirmed their suspicions. “She wished for it to be donated here on the centennial anniversary,” Amelia gave her granddaughter a look, “I didn’t plan for you wanting to come here when I made sure to fulfill the promise. Having you two here is a bonus—especially now that you know everything.” Amelia could see in their eyes they were practically itching to open the book, wanting to see the contents that laid within.

Moving to a bench in the corner away from prying eyes, Amelia motioned for them to sit on either side of her. “The museum director is expecting me once we finish here so I must be careful with this. For preservation reasons, I’ll be the one to hold and turn the pages, but I’d love to share with you her words. And I know she would want the same,” glancing at the women, she received eager nods. “Alrighty then.”

Opening the cover, their eyes met the cursive writing that belonged to Amelia’s grandmother, her name in bold cursive, Y/n L/n. Amelia gently turned to the first page, dated one month before Titanic sailed on her maiden voyage.

“Monday, March 10, 1912. Father has come home with the news of his invitation to a conference in London next month. Not only has he informed my mother and I of his wishes for us to join him, but also he has purchased tickets for the White Star Line’s new vessel expected to set sail one month from today. They are calling her, Titanic…”

As Amerlia read off the words of her grandmother one last time, she wondered if her grandparents were back on the ship of dreams with their friends and family. Crossing the Atlantic in a place where time and space ceased to exist. Only the open ocean and the beautiful skies. Where Bradley was chasing a giggling Y/n down the corridors. Where Natasha got to live the life she dreamed with Jake. Their friends with them and Y/n’s family together at last.

It was a long wait full of patience. One seventy-four years in the making.

But as Y/n took her last breath on the night of December 1st, 1985, she was young and full of life, wearing the Heart of the Ocean as she ran to board the ship about to sail for a journey that would never end. Coming to the platform where a young Bradley stood, a spitting image of what he looked like the first time she laid eyes on him, his hand out for her to take. Behind him were the smiling faces of her family and friends—some of whom she hadn’t seen in seventy years, with the passengers of Titanic on the decks above. A beaming Natasha holding Jake’s hand, waving to Y/n as her children peeked from behind her legs.

Y/n locked eyes on her husband. The soulmate she had been without for three months. No words were spoken. Conversing everything they wanted to say in just the one look.

‘We’ve been waiting for ya, doll.’

‘I had to do something first.’

‘We know,’ a silent nod passes. ‘We were there with you.’ Gesturing his head to the ship as if to say, ‘You ready?’ Bradley stepped forward, hand still out for Y/n to take. Not even hesitating, Y/n grasped his warm palm in his, the feeling all too familiar as a spark of life shot through her chest.

Boarding Titanic together for the first and final time.

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa

[sunfyresrider]

Titanic AU

Synopsis: The year is 1912 and the Titanic is setting sail on its maiden voyage. You were too incredibly broke to buy a ticket but luckily won yourself a ticket in a poker match. Aegon has unluckily lost his trust fund and is being forced to marry a wealthy girl and move to America. Both of you got on the ship for different reasons, both of you came from vastly different backgrounds, neither of you planned on finding love but fate had something else instore for you both.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Reader Warnings: It's literally a Titanic au sooo fluff, smut, sinking ship, love affair (cheating), rich v poor and a whole lotta falling in love. Word Count: 12k Note: HI BABY THIS IS FOR YOU @daddyissuesinwesteros this is my twist on your cruise ship request, I really hope you like it<33 Since i deleted my acc and have to restart I'm going to use a bunch of tags I'm srry. Tags: @its-actually-minicika @aemondwrites @annikin-im-panicin @princesssszzzz @ohitsthemaster

The year was 1912 and a newly finished ship was set to sail from Southampton, England to New York City, United States. RMS Titanic was the largest ship at the time and was considered to be unsinkable. People from all over the world rushed to get a ticket for the maiden voyage. The boat carried some of the wealthiest people in the world, as well as hundreds of emigrants from Ireland, Scandinavia, and elsewhere throughout Europe, who were seeking a new life in the United States.

The first-class accommodation was designed to be the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, with a gymnasium, swimming pool, libraries, high-class restaurants, and opulent cabins. The lower-class accommodations were nowhere near the same, however, were far better than the majority of ships. They were spacious and had several large public rooms and elevators for passengers to enjoy. 

It was by all means the most important and eagerly awaited voyage for many years, but nothing is ever as good as it seems. 

-

You had heard of the Titanic sailing to America just last week. It was completely out of your budget as a nurse in training and there was little to no hope you could board. Except, you weren’t ever planning on getting on the ship by paying. You dressed as a newspaper boy and headed down to the tavern outside the shipyard. 

One talent that always kept you fed was your ability at gambling and right now they were playing poker for tickets. It was four people in total playing the silly little game that would change your life in ways unknown to you. Two gentlemen spoke nearly no English and your closet companion had been nervously shifting the entire game. “You bet everything you have?” He whispered nervously as he eyed his own cards. You leaned over, “when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.” 

Unlike the fellows around the table, you didn’t mind playing dirty. They had no clue what they had gotten themselves into. You switched around some of your cards while they weren’t looking. “Moment of truth… someone’s life is about to change.” One by one everyone sat down with their cards. Olaf had by far the worst pullout of them all. You turned to your friend, “I’m sorry you’re not gonna see your mother for a very long time.” He stood up and began cursing your ear off, “because we’re gonna go to America! Full house boys!” 

Your friend stood up and started screaming his head off. Olaf the Russian bastard yanked you by the collar and eyed you up and down, “woman?” The realization sent fear down your spine, you winked and dipped out of his grasp. 

“The Titanic leaves in five minutes, boys.” The bartender shouted over at you. “Oh shit!” You grabbed your friend by the collar and went sprinting in the direction of the ship. You shoved your way through the crowds, through the entrance, through the lower deck, and finally to the top of the ship. There were hundreds of people screaming goodbyes at you and you couldn’t help but wave back… even if you were excited to go home.  

-

The crowd to get inside the ship was suffocating by all means. Luckily Aegon’s mother had forced them to all leave extra early. The ship was meant to travel the entire to America and many were beside themselves in excitement. He didn’t care much for the ship or the trip, there were other things on his mind.

Since his father’s company had become so successful his family was able to sit on the upper deck in their own personal rooms. Though his own mother had to pay for his ticket… Aegon wouldn’t think about that situation right now. 

His tuxedo was suffocating him, and it was becoming clear his fiancée was exasperated. Of course, who wouldn’t be angry at an arranged marriage where love isn’t involved? The marriage aside, they were being forced into this ship in close quarters assuming they would “bond”. It was about to be an all-around miserable affair for everyone involved.

His mother, Alicent, quickly shuffled them into their surprisingly posh rooms… perhaps it would not be so miserable. As Aegon was unpacking his bags he pulled out a few paintings he had picked up during his time alive. His fiancée peaked over his shoulder and scoffed, “are those by… something Picasso?” She paused for a moment, “you shouldn’t waste your time with them, he’ll amount to nothing.” Aegon was reminded that this journey was about to be absolutely dreadful.

-

You and your friend finished tossing your things in the below-deck rooms meant for the poor. Two large bunk beds took up most of the space and you learned rather fast you would be sharing with some mildly unsavory characters. No matter, you planned to spend the majority of your time running around the massive ship anyway. 

The front of the ship was massive and was built at an angle. You ran around basking in your luck at being able to steal- you mean win tickets. Your feet carried you to the front of the pointed ship and you climbed up the rails, “I’m the king of the world!” You shouted in a gleeful voice. Your friend ran up behind you, “you’re a woman, idiot!” You paused for a moment… “I’m the queen of the world!” 

-

Aegon took his few moments to explore the ship. He wandered around aimlessly observing the people and the view of the sea. It was a rather dull view, nothing but open water for miles on end. At this time his head was also swirling with thoughts that drained his energy. 

He was being forced into an unwanted marriage, his father had removed him from the trust fund, he was being sent to America to work and his family all hated him in one way or another. The biggest disappointment in the Targaryen lineage thus far.

 In the giant crowds on the deck, he felt completely alone. Everyone around him seemed happy, they filled his ears with laughter and cheers and yet Aegon felt nothing of the sort. This ship was leading him to an unknown future laced with more sorrow. Does he even have reason to live now? 

You were sitting on a bench doodling on your sketch pad when you first saw him. He had beautiful blonde hair and a chiseled jawline, he looked to be one of the posh people on board. However, his big blue eyes were laced with only sorrow. He did not smile nor join in the happiness around him. It gave you an idea for a new painting, a lonely soul amid a crowd. 

“Don’t even think about it, he’s out of your league.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, “I wasn’t thinkin’ bout nothing.” Your friend took a seat next to you and pursed his lips. “Mhm, that's why you're already trying to draw him?” The audacity of some people, you thought. You slammed your sketchbook closed and sat up. “Ain’t your business!” 

You turned your head to get one last glimpse, but he was gone as quickly as he appeared. A little knot formed in your stomach thinking about how he was out of your league. Most rich people are cunts anyway it shouldn’t matter to you… Maybe, you would just admire him from afar. 

-

At dinner, Aegon’s feelings didn’t get any better. As he sat with his mother and fiancée all he could think about was how pointless his life truly was. A few offhand remarks by the women didn't ease his depression either. Why did he always ruin everything he touched? Why couldn’t he ever be enough? Why was he forced to live such a meaningless life?

“Aegon,” his mother called out to him as he stared lifelessly into his soup. “You’re embarrassing me in front of everyone… no wonder your father disowned you.” His fiancée whispered in his ear. He had more than enough encouragement to rid this world of himself and this was the final push.

Aegon excused himself from the table and stormed out of the dining area. His destination was the ship deck so he could throw himself off. Hopefully, he would freeze to death, or a shark would eat him before anyone could rescue him. Tears slowly dripped down his face as he walked outside. The wind cooled his tears enough they burned his skin.

You were out there trying to paint the sky when he returned. Though, he was a complete mess this time around. You watched him climb up the railing and over the other side. The crazy bastard is trying to jump! As a nurse in training, it was your job to act first.

“I wouldn’t jump if I were you, mister!” A gentle voice caught Aegon’s attention from behind. He furrowed his brows and whipped his head around at the sound of his voice. “Stay back! Don't come any closer!” The tear tracks on his cheeks were gleaming in the faint glow from the stern running lights. 

“Take my hand. I'll pull you back in.” He immediately snapped back, “No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go.” you rolled your eyes, “No you won't.” He loosens his grip on the railing, “Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me.” 

“You would have done it already. Now come on, take my hand.” Aegon is confused now, he couldn’t see her very well through the tears, so he wiped them with one hand, almost losing his balance. “You're distracting me. Go away.” You approach the railing slowly, “I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you.” Aegon turned around to finally get a glance at you. He was shocked to see how beautiful you were, the moon outlined your silhouette like a guardian Angel. “D-Don't be absurd. You'll be killed.”

You took off your jacket, “I'm a good swimmer.” You move to unlace your shoe and he speaks up, “the fall alone would kill you.” You glanced down, “It would hurt. but to be honest mister I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.” Aegon looked down. The reality of what he was doing started sinking in. “How cold?” You start taking off your shoe, “it’s the Atlantic so a little above freezing.” You take off your other shoe, “Ever been to Maine?” Aegon was completely perplexed, “No.”

“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Wells. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-skating out on Lake Wissota... ice-skating where you get on frozen ice–“ He scoffed, “I know what ice skating is!” You raise your hands in defeat, “Sorry. You just... you look kind of like an indoor guy. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold... like that right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think... at least not about anything but the pain.” You slowly take another step forward, “Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But as I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”

“You’re crazy.” He was completely distracted by you, and Aegon forgot about what he originally intended to do. “That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship.”

You slid one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse. “Come on. A pretty boy like you shouldn’t die like this.” Aegon stared at this madwoman for a long time. He looked at your eyes and they somehow suddenly seemed to fill his universe, “Alright.” He unfastened one hand from the rail and reached it around toward you. You reached out to take it, firmly. “I'm Y/N.” Aegon smiled, 

“Pleased to meet you, Miss. Y/N.” All seemed well until his foot slipped on the water that was coating the edge. He let out a less-than-manly scream as he almost dragged you over with him. Your grip tightened and you bit your lip while trying to pull him over. Damn, he was fucking heavy.  

He kicked his feet against the edge hard enough you could pull him up over the railing once more. The force was a bit much as he landed on top of you. There was a brief moment of silence where you stared up at him. This was a pathetic lunatic for sure but a very beautiful one. 

A group of crewmen disrupts your moment of admiration by dragging him off of you and pulling you to your feet. They began yelling at each other as one struggled to pull handcuffs out of his pocket. You tried to explain but they weren’t listening to your pleas. Two women came barreling out onto the deck screeching about what had happened. “Let go of my son, son,” his apparent mother shouted. “What has my fiancé done?” 

Ah, it was too good to be true after all. He had a beautiful posh fiancée waiting for him. “We saw him assaulting this woman!” One of the men shouted and Aegon immediately denied it. The woman’s eyes were a mix of confusion and subtle rage. “It was a misunderstanding! I came up here to admire the view and nearly fell to my death before he saved me!” You weren’t exactly sure why you were lying to a stranger, but something told you they didn’t need to know the truth. “It’s true! I was out here for a smoke when I saw her.” 

“You heard the girl! My son is no rapist.” The men glanced at you asking for confirmation, and you nodded your head in response. One of them let out a sigh as they uncuffed him. Aegon mouthed a thank you as the crew walked off. “Thank you for defending my fiancée,” she smiled at you. “Of course, Miss.” Aegon seemed to roll his eyes at her own voice. 

“Would you like to join us for dinner, dear? As a token of our appreciation?” His mother said in a way that sounded more like a demand than a request. You wouldn’t deny an all-paid-for fancy mean though. “If it would be alright.” Aegon smiled to himself as they bid you goodnight. Your luck seemed to be far from running out.

-

Aegon woke up early the next day; he prepared his clothes the night before and was sure to wear his best casual attire. He was more than excited to spend time with you before the eminent dinner with his family. That part didn’t excite him, his family was hard to deal with as you will soon find out. Plus, his fiancé would ruin any chance he had with you. 

It was wrong of him to think about cheating on her but once again it was a forced arrangement. Perhaps you could be his way out of it or maybe a way to distract him. At this time, you were playing a dull game with your two bunk bates. You kept thinking about him, his pretty face, and his madness all throughout that day… too bad he was to be married.

“Hello Y/N.” Your two friends are absolutely floored by his arrival. It's like Cinderella's slipper fitting Cinderella. “Hello again.” Aegon glanced around, “Could I speak to you in private?” You stood up nervously, “Uh, yes. Of course. After you.” He motioned you ahead. Asgon glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walked out with you leaving a stunned silence. 

You both walked side by side onto the deck. You passed people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. You felt completely out of place in your rough clothes. You were both awkward, for different reasons.  “So, you got a name by the way?”

He shuffled next to you, “Aegon. Aegon Targaryen.” You snickered, “That's quite a moniker. I may hafta get you to write that down.” There was an awkward pause and you felt like throwing yourself off the ship now. 

“Miss. Y/N, I-” you cut him off, “Y/N.” He took a breath, “Y/N... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.” You smiled, “Well, here you are.”

Aegon began playing with the rings on his fingers, “I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your discretion.” You patted his shoulder, “No problem at all.” 

He turned to you. “Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?” Aegon was beyond embarrassed he made such a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. Normally, he would be more nonchalant, but you had done something to him. “That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this man so much he thought he had no way out.” 

He let out a sigh of relief, “I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. And I was trapped in it, like a dragon in ice.” He started speaking too fast to fully make out, “I just had to get away... and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them!”

“Uh-huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead.” He lowered his head, “Oh Gods, I am such an utter fool.” You raised a brow, “That chicken last night, is she one of them?” The penguin was his fiancé who was dressed in red feathers. “Chicken? Oh, Y/N/N! She is them.” You cocked your head over to look at him, “So you feel like you're stuck 'cause you're marrying' this chicken.” Aegon finally smiled brightly, “Exactly!” You thought to yourself, there was a pretty obvious solution. “So don't marry him.” He scoffed, “If only it were that simple.”

You hummed, “It is that simple.” He furrowed his brow, “don't judge me until you've seen my world.” You smirked, “Well, I guess I will tonight.” Aegon got mildly flustered once again for reasons unknown. He started looking for another topic, any other topic, and he indicated your sketchbook. “This? It’s just some sketches.” He reached his hand out, “May I?”

The question is rhetorical because he had already grabbed the book. He sat on a deck chair and opened the sketchbook. He noticed each one was a random picture of different people. An old woman’s hands, a parent and their child sleeping on a bench, a couple dancing in the street… It was like the condition of humanity. “These are quite good.” 

You smiled, “I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway.” You picked up two loose pages and tossed them. He laughed, “You're deranged!” No

He turned a page and well… He had come upon a series of nudes. He blushed, Aegon was completely transfixed, they felt... almost uncomfortably intimate. It wasn’t like he was one to shy away from the human form just didn’t expect it from… A woman. “Where were these drawn from?” Your smile grew wide, “Paris! Lots of people are willing to take off their clothes to be a part of art.” 

His eyes narrowed towards one, “You liked this man. You used him several times.” You giggled, “Nah, he had beautiful hands.” Aegon raised a brow, “I think you had a love affair with him…” You shoved his shoulder, “No, never! Just with his hands.” Aegon looked up from the drawing and into your eyes. They were laced with sincerity and something else… God, he was too handsome to be wasting time with the likes of you. “You have a gift, Y/N. You see people.” You were talented, kind, and beautiful… How did he stumble upon someone like you? “I see you.” There it was your piercing gaze that went right through his universe. “And...?” You smiled, “You wouldn't jump.”

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist... living in a garret, poor but free!” You laughed at him, “You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any fancy food.” He faked an angry face, “Listen, missy... I hate fancy food! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams” You patted his head. “I'm sorry.”

“I just hate all of these duties that I have. I feel this way. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or I don't know... a dancer… a nude model… or a moving picture actor!” Aegon grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you along the deck toward-- He pulled you into the midst of filming and began pretending to be a part of it. 

-

You had spent the entire day with him accidentally. Maybe you told him a little too much about yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter. He enjoyed listening to your stories about your travels and your failure in nursing school. Aegon was the opposite of what you imagined a rich person to be. “So, then what, Miss. Adventurer?”

“Well, when housing cost too much, I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. I sketched portraits there for ten cents apiece.” His mouth gaped sarcastically,

“A whole ten cents?!” The sarcasm went right over your head, “it was great money... I could make a dollar a day. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris after a while and see what the real artists were doing.”

Aegon seemed to get lost in his head staring off into the distance. “I wish I could be like you… free from everything.” You turned to him, “We could go there, sometime... to that pier.” He grinned, “we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on rollercoasters until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the surf.” You laughed, “A woman riding a horse? Do you mean one leg on each side? Scandalous!” He turned to you and the sunset perfectly framed his face. His eyes brightened, “if you’d like.” You grinned, “I think I would.” 

-

A woman by the name of Molly came to your rescue. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate Aegon’s family very much and gladly gave you all the things you needed to show off. Molly lent you a very posh dress for the dinner and taught you a few especially important manners. You didn’t quite remember them all but that would be okay��� you think. 

You stood awkwardly on the staircase looking for the family you were meant to dine with. A few men approached you and so you decided to practice your manners with them… They snickered under their breath at your daftness. Before you could open your mouth to snap back, Aegon finally arrived at your side. “Miss, y/n.” He picked up your hand and placed a firm kiss on it. 

You couldn’t help it; you were sure your face turned ten shades of red. He stuck out his arm urging you to take it… the manners of the rich confused you. “You look very posh.” Aegon leaned into your ear. You forced a smile as you approached his family. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“Mother, y/n/n, I’m sure you remember miss y/n.” They turned with shocked expressions, and his fiancé smiled brightly, “y/n- you could almost pass for a lady.” You nodded at her, “almost.” You wanted to slap that grin off her face as soon as possible. 

They strode off into the crowd of people and Aegon pulled you along with them. He tried to list off the names of everyone attending but you couldn’t remember. He even tried to introduce you to someone, but he was obviously suspicious of you. You were nervous but you never faltered. No way would you let these rich folks make a fool of you. 

Alicent was the first to speak to you at the dinner table, “What is it like in steerage, I hear they're quite good on this ship.” It was an insult disguised as a question. You smiled politely, “Fantastic ma'am. Hardly any rats.” Aegon motioned for you to take the napkin off your plate. What was with all of these rules? 

His fiancé spoke up, Miss. Y/N is joining us from the third class. She was of assistance to my fiancé last night.” She turned to you and spoke as if she was talking to a child. “This is foie gras. It's goose liver.” You dug your nails into your thighs and tried to hide your obvious anger. A soft hand brushed against yours catching your attention away from the sudden whispers about you.  Aegon regretted bringing you here already. “How do you take your caviar, Miss?”  

His fiancé answered for you, the cunt. “Just a soupcon of lemon… it improves the flavor with champagne.” You nodded, “No caviar for me, thanks… I never did like it much.” You looked at Aegon, proudly, and he smiled back. “And where exactly do you live, Miss. Y/N?” Alicent asked. “Well, right now the Titanic. After that, I’d like to travel to America.” 

Salad is served, you reached for the fish fork. Aegon gave you a look and picked up the salad fork, prompting you with his eyes. Damn, why the need for different forks? Alicent spoke again, “You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?” You ignored her tone and decided to answer honestly. 

“My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in and never did see it. See, my folks died in a fire when I was in nursing school, and I've been on the road since. Something like that teaches you to make each day count.” Aegon smiled, “Well said, Y/N.” Alicent, annoyed that you had scored a point against her, pressed further. “How is it you have the means to travel?” You smiled, “I work my way from place to place. I do nursing jobs on the side… actually I won my ticket to get on here.” 

Aegon smiled to himself, a very lucky win indeed. The rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly. You kept quiet most of the time trying to not barf at the taste of the food. When dessert was finally over Aegon spoke to you directly for the first time that night. 

“Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room.” He whispered slowly, “Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.”  You nearly laughed but were interrupted by his fiancé. “Joining us, Y/N? You don't want to stay out here with the men, do you?”

Actually, you do, but... “No thanks. I'm heading back.” Alicent stood up. “Probably best. It'll be all business and gossip; it won't interest you. Good of you to come.” The women took their leave, and you stood up to go as well. “Must you go so early?” You winked at Aegon, “Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin.” 

He leant over to take your hand. Aegon noticed the piece of paper in it and you nod at him to take it. You say a quick goodbye before you scurry off to your usual quarters. Aegon opens the note below the table. "Meet me at the clock". 

He smirked to himself then got up to politely excuse himself. You were the complete opposite of any of the women he was forced to be around, and he found himself fancying you more than he should. Aegon should thank his father for disowning him and getting rid of his trust fund because that’s exactly why he was able to meet you. 

You were staring at the giant clock in the middle of the staircase. You looked beautiful even from behind. You turned and caught him staring, “Want to go to a real party?”

-

The below-deck crowd was led and alive with music, laughter, and raucous carrying on. An unknown band was gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion, and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, and even brawling. Aegon was completely amazed by the scene; he could get used to it. 

Your friend handed Aegon a pint of stout and she chugs it. You patiently waited for him to finish his newfound alcoholism and dance with you. When you get impatient you grab him by the collar and drag him into the middle of the floor. “I don’t know the steps!” You giggled, “just follow me!” The music started and you were off. He was a little awkward at first, but eventually, he’s the one leading you. 

Aegon has the brightest smile plastered across his face as he spins you around the crowd. He stares at you with flushed cheeks, and your sweat glistens perfectly on your skin. You truly were an angel sent for him and only him. 

-

“Come to Josephine in my flying machine. And it's up she goes! Up she goes! In the air, she goes. Where? There she goes!” You both drunkenly stumble over the words and break down laughing. You’ve walked Aegon all the way back to first-class before anyone can notice his absence. Though he doesn’t leave right away and instead leans onto the rail. 

“They're such meaningless people... my crowd. They think they're gods on earth, but they're not even dust in the universe’s gaze. They live inside this little, tiny glass bubble... and someday the bubble's going to burst.” You leaned on the rail next to him, your hands barely touched his, but it was enough to fluster you both. It is the slightest contact imaginable, and yet it’s the only thing either of you could feel. 

“You're not one of them. There's been a mistake.” Aegon looked at you confused, “A mistake?” You smiled, “Uh huh. You got switched at birth or something.” Aegon laughed at you, “I did huh?” You stood there in silence until you spotted a long streak of light in the sky, “Look! A shooting star.” He smiled, “Aren't we supposed to wish on it?”

Aegon glanced at you and realized that you were suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss you. Your eyes told him he could if only he took one more step. "What would you wish for?” You stepped back and forced a smile, “Something I can't have. Goodnight, Aegon. And thank you.” You took off in a hurry, any more time spent in the same vicinity as him would mean you making a grave mistake. No falling for an engaged man, no falling for someone in a different class than you. 

“Y/N,” Aegon moves to follow you, but his attention is caught by people piling out of the first-class entrance. What did he do wrong? 

-

His mother had berated him the entire night for what he had done. He was caught dancing with you and for some reason, that was the end of the world for her. Aegon was tired of constantly being forced to do his parents' bidding. The only reason he was engaged to this girl was that she had money and he didn’t. Once Alicent was finished scolding him he took off towards the deck. 

The ring

The damned ring he was going to give her with the blue diamond in the middle. He could chuck it into the ocean right now and not care anymore. That wouldn’t do, it was too expensive for such a faith. So, he locked it in a safe and decided to forget about it completely. He was done being a pawn for those around him. 

Aegon couldn’t handle rejection, nor could he handle being away from you for this long. He had no idea what had gone wrong, but he was desperate to fix it. He snuck below deck the next day where you were playing a game of poker with your friends. 

The sound of a knock on the door caught the group's attention. Who the hell knocks down here? You opened the door and your mouth gaped. “Can I talk to you...,” he peered over your shoulders, “…alone.” You turned to your group of friends, and they looked just as shocked as you. “Prince Charming came back,” Tommy snickered. “Go on, Cinderella,” Bjorn yelled at you.

You let out a sigh, “fine.” Aegon smiled and you walked into the hallway with him. Before you could get a word out, he grabbed you by the shoulders. “You're no picnic… you know that? You’re a broke, low-class girl with no manners but under that, you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known and–“ You were completely caught off guard, “Aeg- I-”

He cut you off, “No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing... and I know I don’t have much to offer you anymore. I know that, but I'm involved now. I jump, you jump, remember?” You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. Aegon was always so open even though you barely knew each other... not like anyone you had ever known but he was also a rich boy with a fiancé, it wasn’t possible to be with him. “You're making this very hard.” 

“They have me in a glass jar like some butterfly, and I’m going to die if I don't break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause I’m spiteful. But sooner or later the fire is going to go out and… and I need you with me.” Your lip pouted, “only you can save yourself. I’m just me.” He smiled, “You're wrong. You are everything to me. Just please think about it, Y/N.” 

He pulled you forward and placed a quick kiss on your forehead before taking off. You were left completely dumbfounded and your thoughts swirling around your brain. 

-

Aegon was standing at the place where you first met. He was letting the wind hit his face and calm his mind while he impatiently waited for you to come to him or forgive him or anything really. He was getting exceedingly desperate for anything from you. 

“Hey, Egg,” He whipped his head around and a big smile blessed his face. “I changed my mind.” Aegon smiled at you, his eyes drinking you in entirely. Your cheeks were flushed by the cold wind, and your eyes sparkled more than the sapphire. “I asked around and they said you might be up–” He grabbed your hand before you could finish speaking. “Shh. Come here.” Aegon wrapped his hands around your waist. It looked as if he was going to kiss you. 

“Close your eyes.” You were too flustered at first by the sudden contact but after a deep breath, you willingly shut your eyes. Aegon moved your hips, so you were facing forward, and he pressed you gently to the rail. It was getting too intimate, and you could feel your skin turning several shades of red. 

Aegon took your arms and raised them until you were standing with your arms outstretched. When he lowered his hands, your arms stayed up... like wings. “Okay. Open them.” You let out a small gasp. There was nothing in your field of vision but open water. It's like there is no ship under you both at all, just the two of them flying. You could only hear the wind and the hiss of the water 50 feet below. 

You giggled, “I'm flying!” You leaned forward, arching your back. Aegon put his hands on your waist to steady you. He started singing the tune from the other night softly, “come Josephine in my flying machine…” You smiled dreamily, then leaned back, gently pressing your back against his chest. Slowly he raised his hands, and they met yours... fingertips gently touching. Then he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Aegon leaned his head forward into your hair, letting the scent of you wash over him until his cheek was against your ear. 

You turned your head and noticed his lips are near yours. You lowered your arms and your eyes fluttered shut until his lips met yours. As Aegon wrapped his arms around your hips you completely surrendered to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. You kiss slowly and nervously, and then with passion. 

-

Aegon snuck you into his room which was filled with beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery. You say your sketchbook and drawing materials are on the marble table. It was far too fancy for you; you couldn’t help but feel out of place here. “Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?” You faked a French accent, “ Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'horrible conditions,'' you turned and saw his collection of paintings, “Hey... Monet!”

Aegon smiled, “Isn't he great... the use of color? I saw him once... through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny.” You watched him fiddle with a lock on a box, CLUNK! He unlocked the safe. He glanced up and smiled at you and tossed you a ring, “What is it? A sapphire?” He shook his head, “A diamond. A very rare diamond called the Heart of the Ocean.” You gazed at the wealth beyond your comprehension. “Why- why are you giving this to me?” 

“Draw me like one of your French boys and it’s all yours.” Your mouth visibly dropped at the realization. Of course, you would happily oblige. 

-

You carefully laid out your pencils like surgical tools. “The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want.” Aegon took off his robe revealing himself and you assumed you looked completely shocked.

“Tell me when it looks right to you.” He pulled a blanket over his… parts. Aegon tried to mimic the guy from your drawing as best he could. “Uh... just bend your left leg a little and... and lower your head. Eyes to me…. Uh yeah.” 

His abs were perfectly defined, and his skin was a gorgeous milky white. He looked like one of those famous Greek statues in a museum. You started to sketch but your nervous hands made you drop the pencil. He stifled a laugh, “I believe you are blushing, Ms. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monet blushing.” You were obviously sweating, “He does landscapes.”

Despite your nervousness, you drew with sure strokes, and what emerged is the best thing you had ever done. His pose is languid, his hands beautiful, and his eyes radiate energy. It helped that Aegon was the perfect customer, he barely moved an inch and kept his eyes on you the whole time. 

-

“Date it, Y/N. I want to always remember this night.” He leaned over your shoulder in his robe and peered at the drawing. Once again, you do everything he says because you are too flustered to do otherwise. He meanwhile scribbled a note on a piece of the Titanic stationary. He gladly accepted the drawing from you and shoved it in the safe in the wardrobe. 

Once he got fully dressed you felt like you could breathe again. There was a noise, almost like a key being placed in a lock. Aegon grabbed your hand and ripped you up and yanked you through the bedroom. 

He led you quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. You were halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opened in the corridor and his mother came out. The valet sees you and runs after you. 

“Come on,” Aegon shouted in a whisper. You break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Aegon led you past the stairs to the bank of elevators. You run into one, shocking the hell out of the people inside. 

“Take us down. Quickly, quickly!” Aegon motions to the operator. He even helped him close the steel gate. The valet ran up as the lift started to descend. He slammed one hand on the bars of the gate. Aegon flipped him off with a large grin causing the operator to gasp. 

They escape to the boiler room filled with fans. You both leaned against a wall and began laughing. “Pretty tough for a valet, this fella,” you grinned. “He's an ex-Pinkerton. Y/N/N’s father hired him to keep her out of trouble... to make sure she always got back to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after crawling through the less reputable parts of town.” Aegon smiled. “Kinda like we're doin' right now-- uh oh!” 

The valet popped up out of nowhere and charged toward you. Aegon took your hand once more and dashed into a blind alley. There was only one door, marked CREW ONLY, and Aegon flung it open. You entered a roaring fan room, with no way out but a ladder going down. Aegon latched the deadbolt on the door, and the valet slammed against it a moment later. Aegon grinned at you, pointing to the ladder. “After you, m'lady.” 

-

You came down the ladder and realized this place looked like hell itself, shadowy figures moving in the smoky glow. You ran the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal. Aegon shouted over the noise, “Carry on! Don't mind us!”

You rush through the open door into BOILER ROOM SIX. Aegon pulled you through the hot alley between two boilers and you wound up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. 

Aegon stops you and kisses your face, tasting the sweat trickling down from your forehead. You raised your chin up to him and pressed your lips roughly against his; you kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness. 

-

After you both gained some self-control, you ran into a new storage room. This time you stumble upon a brand-new touring car.  You climbed into the upholstered back seat, acting very royal. Aegon jumped into the driver's seat, “Where to, Miss?” you grinned, “To the stars.”

You climbed into the back seat and reached your hands out to pull him over the seat into the back. He landed next to you, and his breath seemed loud in the quiet darkness. Aegon gazed at you and saw you smiling… It was the moment of truth. “Are you nervous?” You nervously smiled, “Au contraire, mon cher.”

Aegon gently stroked your face, cherishing every feature. “Touch me,” you whispered. He slid himself on top of you and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. 

Your heart raced as he kissed down your neck. You moaned softly, feeling the heady rush of excitement fill your body with desire. The lustful longing for this man consumed you, there was no turning back now. As his lips neared your breast, you pulled him closer and felt his soft hands caress your skin.

His mouth engulfed one nipple and began to suck it. Your moans were muffled by his hot breath and tender kisses. His hands groped your hips and tugged them up so that he could take your other breast between his teeth. His fingers curled around the hem of your gown and slowly rolled it up above your waist.

You gasped when his hand cupped your cunt through the thin fabric of your undergarments. He moved quickly to free you from them. Aegon slid his hand down to swirl around your throbbing clit. You let out small whimpers as he moved his fingers, 

Aegon moved his lips back up to yours as his fingers dipped lower, so they rubbed outside your entrance. You arched your body towards him and sank your nails into his back. A low moan escaped his throat as he pushed two fingers inside you. You bucked your hips into his touch and closed your eyes. Aegon's fingers moved faster and slipped deeper inside you. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it rhythmically.

He suddenly stopped moving and leaned in close to whisper, "I love you." You trembled at his words. They made the fire within you burn brighter than before. You looked up at him and nodded, " I love you too."

His fingers began to move again, swirling and teasing. You cried out in pleasure as he plunged his fingers deep inside of you. Aegon's lips returned to yours as he kissed you passionately. His fingers thrust inside of you harder and faster until you came undone. Your legs quivered and shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

You kept your lips connected to his as you moved your hands to undo his belt. “Are you sure,” he whispered into your mouth. You nodded furiously causing him to smile. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off his hips. 

Aegon lifted your ass up and placed your thighs on either side of his waist. He ran his cock along your soaking cunt, preparing to slide inside. The tip of his manhood nudged against your slick opening. You took a deep breath as you waited for him to push forward. When he finally slid inside you, you let out a sharp cry.

You felt the heat of his thick cock spread inside of you. His length stretches you tightly and fills you completely. He lowered his head onto your shoulder, so your cheeks were touching. As he thrust in and out of you, he placed gentle kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Aegon," you whimpered. The sound of your voice drove him wild. He pumped his hips faster while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Gods, you were so beautiful underneath him. He loved the way you shuddered and shook because of him. 

The car was filled with the sounds of your breathing and their skin slapping together. You raised a hand and hit the glass window leaving a mark on the condensation. You moved your hips with him, grinding yourself against him.

You moaned loudly as he bit down on your shoulder. He held your hips up with one hand while the other was squeezing your tits and doing circles around your nipple. Your cunt clenched around his shaft and squeezed each time he moved.

Aegon started to softly moan as he thrust inside you. They sounded absolutely heavenly in your ears; better than any orchestra you’ve heard. "I'm going to cum," he whimpered. You tightened your grip around his neck and pulled him down into another searing kiss. You tilted your pelvis up to meet his thrusts.

"Cum inside me," you begged. He slammed his hips against your thighs, and his cock exploded inside of you. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as he lost control. When he stopped pumping his seed into you, a warmth flowed throughout your entire body.

Aegon covered you both with his overcoat. You’re both huddled under it, intertwined, still mostly clothed. Your faces were flushed, and you looked at each other wonderingly. You rested a hand on his face as if making sure he was real, “You're trembling.” Aegon smiled.

“It's okay. I'm alright.” He moved to lay his cheek against your chest, “I can feel your heart beating.” You held his head to your chest and just held on for dear life. 

-

After you cleaned up, both of you headed up to the ship deck. The entire time his eyes barely left you. “When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you.” You laughed, “This is crazy.” He nodded, “I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it.” He pulled you back to him and kissed you fiercely. 

The boat suddenly hit an iceberg causing it to bounce backward. Both of you slid back and into the nearby wall. You gave each other a worried glance and took off toward the front. You both leaned over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship. Behind you, a couple of steerage guys were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing. “Looks okay. I don't see anything.” He furrowed his brows, “Could it have damaged the ship?” You were practically pushing yourself in fear right now. “It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay.”

-

You were so tragically wrong; you both took off in opposite directions to go warn your own friends and family. That’s when the chaos erupted, and the alarms began to blare. Aegon had to drag his mother and fiancé out of their rooms in mere pajamas all the way to the deck. It became painstakingly obvious there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone and oh… upper-class women go first and you… you wouldn’t even make it onto a life raft! 

“Goodbye mother,” he yelled as he took off towards the lower deck. His fiancé grabbed him from behind, “Where are you going? To give up your life? For her? Is that it? For your whore? For that gutter rat?” Aegon ripped his arm out of her grasp, “I'd rather be her whore than your husband.” 

The lifeboats began to lower, and, in the distance, he could hear his mother and ex-fiancé screaming hysterically. The boat began to sway, and he struggled to keep his balance and was rushing to go find you. 

-

Meanwhile, you had just been handcuffed to a goddamn pipe. There was something about you stealing a coat that wasn’t exactly wrong but why now of all god-forsaken times. The valet apparently snitched to his mother who then snitched to the captain who then sent a policeman after you. This was before they knew of the dire situation, of course, now you were all but forgotten in the chaos. 

 The pipe wouldn’t budge, and you could hear gurgling sounds of water starting to flow. You pulled harder and began to cry out, “Help!! Somebody!! Can anybody hear me?!” The water poured under the door and rapidly spread throughout the room. You worked against the cuffs until your skin was raw, this was no good. “Y/N? Y/NNNNNN??” 

You were hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until you turned red. You collapsed back on the bench. realizing you’re screwed. Then you heard him through the door. 

Aegon was running aimlessly through the lower deck until he ran into your frantic friend, Tommy. Thank God Tommy cared the least bit to tell him that you had been fucking arrested. He rushed to the master at the arms room which held you captive. Aegon desperately called out your name as he tracked through the water. “AEGON!! In here!” 

He spun on his heels and ran back, locating the right door, then pushed it open, creating a small wave. He splashed over you and put his arms around you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” You both were so happy to see each other it was embarrassing. “Don’t worry about it now! See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little brass one.“ He kissed your face and hugged you again, then started to go through the desk. 

“So… you don’t care I got arrested?” He turned to look at you, “don’t worry about it now!” He mocked your words from earlier. 

You force a smile then he went back to ransacking the room, searching drawers and cupboards. You saw movement out the porthole and looked out. Another lifeboat has just landed in the water… too few lifeboats.

“There's no key in here.” You look around at the water, now almost two feet deep. You have pulled your feet up onto the bench. “You have to go for help.” Aegon nodded, “I'll be right back.”

You watched him splash through the water and started to realize this might be the last time you see him. This might be the last time you breathe air. Oh fuck, you have the worst luck in the world. 

-

Aegon splashed down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. He climbed the stairs and moved his way through the empty corridors. “Hello? Somebody?!” He turned a corner and ran along another corridor in a daze. The hall sloped down into water which shimmered, reflecting the light. The margin of the water creeps toward him. A young man appeared, running through the water, sending up geysers of spray. “Help me! We need help!” He doesn't look back; it was like a bad dream. The lights flickered and went out, leaving utter darkness. A beat. Then they come back on. He finds herself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of his life. 

He turned around and saw a glass case with a fire-axe in it. He breaks the glass with a battered suitcase which was lying discarded nearby, and seized the axe, running back the way he came. 

-

When he reached the stairwell, he looked down and gasped. The water had flooded the bottom five steps. He went down and had to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where you were trapped. Aegon plunged into the water, which was up to his waist... and powered forward, holding the axe above his head in two hands.  You have climbed up on the bench, and we’re hugging the waterpipe. The water was beyond fucking freezing, and you lost hope anyone was coming… Until Aeg waded in, holding the axe above his head. “Will this work?”

“Fuck yes!” You were both terrified but were trying to keep panic at bay. You pulled your hands back, so the short chain was exposed… No time for any practice swings. You winced, bracing yourself as he raised the axe. “You can do it, baby. Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you.” Your voice cracked and you closed your eyes tightly. The axe came down, K-WHANG! When Aegon opened his eyes, he saw you grinning with two separate cuffs. 

“Nice work, there, Paul Bunyan.” You hopped off the bench and swam towards him. The water taking all the air out of your lungs, “Shit! Excuse my French. Ow ow ow, that is cold! Come on, let's go.”

-

“Fabrizio! Tommy!” Your friends turned to see you two approaching and ran to embrace you, “The boats are all going.” You glanced around, “We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling saltwater.” Tommy had his hands on the bars of the steel gate which blocked the head of the stairwell. The crew opened the gate a foot or so and a few women are squeezing through. “Women only. No men. No men!!”

But some terrified men, not understanding English, tried to rush through the gap, forcing the gate open. The crewmen and stewards pushed them back, shoving and punching them. “Get back! Get back you lot!” They struggled to get the gate closed again, while Steward #2 brandished a small revolver, another held a fire axe. They locked the gate, and a cry went up among the crowd, who surged forward, pounding against the steel and shouting in several languages. 

“For the love of God, man, there are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!” But the crewmen were scared now. They let the situation get out of hand, and now they have a mob. Tommy gave up and pushed his way back through the crowd, going down the stairs. “It's hopeless that way.”

You squeezed Aegon’s hand for comfort, “Well, whatever we're goin' to do, we better do it fast.” You decided to start sprinting in the other direction. 

-

You, Aegon, Fabrizio and Tommy were lost, searching for a way out. You all came upon a narrow stairwell and went to go up two decks before you were stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared steward. “Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted out there.”

Aegon took one look at this scene and finally just lost it. “God damn it to Hell son of a bitch!!” He grabbed one end of a bench that was bolted to the floor on the landing. He started pulling on it, and Tommy and Fabrizio pitched in until the bolts sheared, and it broke free. You figured out what they were doing and cleared a path up the stairs between the waiting people. 

“Move aside! Quickly, move aside!” Aegon and Tommy ran up the steps with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all their strength. It ripped loose from its track and fell outward, narrowly missing the steward. The crowd surged through. 

-

You all bursted out onto the boat deck from the crew stairs just aft of the third funnel. “The boats are gone!” Aegon noticed Colonel Gracie chugging forward along the deck, escorting two first class ladies. “Colonel! Are there any boats left?”

“Yes, sir... there are still a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I'll lead you!” Aegon grabbed your hand, and they sprinted past him, with Tommy and Fabrizio close behind. The band from the other night was still playing music accepting their own demise. “Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in First Class.”

-

You quickly took notice of only women boarding. You looked back at your two friends, “You better check out the other side.” They ran and took off to the other side. “I'm not going without you.” Aegon pushed you forward, “Get in the boat, Y/N.” One of the crewmen began yelling, “Quickly, ladies. Step into the boat. Hurry, please!” He patted your head, “Go on. I'll get the next one.” You cried out, “No. Not without you!” Aegon smiled reassuringly, “I'll be alright. Hurry up so I can get going... I have my own boat to catch.”

The crewman grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the boat. You reached out for Aegon and your fingers brushed for a moment. Then you found yourself stepping down into the boat. Aegon knew he was screwed. He looked down at you, not wanting to waste a second of his last view of you. 

All you could hear was the blood pounding in your ear. All you could feel was the tears rushing down your face. Damn it all to hell. 

You lunged across the woman next to you. You grabbed the gunwale and began climbing it... You successfully hurl yourself out of the boat and onto the rail of the deck. “No Y/N! NOOOO!!” Aegon spun from the rail, running for the nearest way down to A-Deck. 

You met at the bottom of the stairs and collided in an embrace. “Y/N, Y/N, you're so stupid, you're such an idiot–” He spoke as he kissed you repeatedly. “You jump, I jump, right?” He grinned sadly, “Right.”

-

You sprinted your way through the boat once more trying to reach the top deck. The corridor is awash, about a foot deep. A torrent of water came pouring down the stairs like rapids. It was far too powerful for you to go against. “Come on!”  As you approached the giant double doors at the other end of the hall you saw water spraying through the gap between the doors right up to the ceiling. “Back! Go back!!”

Aegon turned and ran back the way you came, taking a turn into a cross-corridor. The double doors break open sounding a thunderous explosion of water. You tried to run as a wave blasted around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling. 

You barely made it to the large staircase leading up. The lights short out and the landing is plunged into darkness. It is by the grace of God that the gate that blocked your path gave and swung open. You were pushed through by the force of the water. 

-

The room was empty except for Andrews, the captain. Behind him you and Aegon rushed into the room, out of breath and soaked. You ran through, toward the aft revolving door... then Aegon recognized him. He noticed that his lifebelt was off, lying on a table. 

“Won't you even make a try for it, Mr. Andrews?” A single tear ran down his cheek, “I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Aegon.”

You leaned over and whispered, “It's going fast... we've got to keep moving.” Andrews picked up his lifebelt and handed it to him. “Good luck to you, Aegon.” He smiled, “And to you, Mr. Andrews.” You forcefully pulled him away and through the revolving door. 

-

You ran out of the palm court into a dense crowd. Aegon pushed his way to the rail and looked at the state of the ship. The bridge is under water and there is chaos on deck. Aegon helped you put your lifebelt on. “Okay... we keep moving aft. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible.”

Aegon and you clambered over the A-Deck aft rail. Then, using all his strength, he lowered you toward the deck below, holding on with one hand. You dangled, then fell. Aegon jumped down behind you. You joined a crowd of people literally clawing and scrambling over each other to get down the narrow stairs to the well deck... the only way aft. 

Realizing it’s pointless you both do the same move once more. Lowering each other to the deck below. A zombified man spoke, “Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death–“ Aegon growled, “You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?”

Aegon and you struggled aft as the angle increased. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on deck, huddled on their knees around a priest who had his voice raised in prayer. They were praying, sobbing, or just staring at nothing, their minds blank with dread.  “Come on, you. We can't expect God to do all the work for us.”

You struggled on, shoving through the praying masses. Aegon and you made it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. You both gripped the rail, jammed in between other people. It is the spot where you pulled him back onto the ship, just two nights... and a century... ago.  “...and I saw new heavens and a new earth. The former heavens and the former earth had passed away and the sea was no longer.”

The lights flickered, threatening to go out. You gripped Aegon as the stern raised into a night sky ablaze with stars. “I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them, and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them.”

You stared at the faces of the doomed. “He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away.”

The stern of the ship fell back toward the water. On the deck everyone screamed as they felt themselves plummeting. Aegon and you struggled to hold onto the stern rail. Aegon looked at you and shook his head, grimly. 

The stern went up and up, past 45 degrees, then past sixty.  People started to fall, sliding and tumbling. They skidded down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something. 

“We have to move!” Aegon climbed over the stern rail and reached back for you. “Come on! I've got you!” Aegon pulled you over the rail. It is the same place you pulled him over the rail two nights earlier, going the other direction. The stern was now straight up in the air... a rumbling black monolith standing against the stars. It hangs there like that for a long grace note, its buoyancy stable. 

Aegon and you laid side by side on what was the vertical face of the hull, gripping the railing, which is now horizontal. The final relentless plunge began as the stern section flooded. Looking down a hundred feet to the water, you dropped like an elevator. Aegon began talking fast, “Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don't let go of my hand. We're gonna make it. Trust me.” You stared at the water coming up at you and gripped his hand harder. “I trust you.

-

Chaos exploded in the water of screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people were now floating where the ship went down. Some were stunned, gasping for breath. Others are crying, praying, moaning, shouting... screaming. 

Aegon and you surfaced among them. “Swim, you! SWIM!” You tried to swim as fast as you could until you broke out of the crowd of people. He had to find some kind of flotation, anything to get you out of the freezing water. “Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come one, you can do it.” All around you there is a tremendous wailing, screaming and moaning... a chorus of tormented souls. And beyond that... nothing but black water stretching to the horizon. The sense of isolation and hopelessness is overwhelming. 

Aegon stroked rhythmically, the effort keeping him from freezing. “Look for something floating. Some debris... wood... anything.” You mumbled, “It's so cold.” He frantically looked around, “I know. I know. Help me, here. Look around.” 

You scanned the water, panting, barely able to draw a breath. You turned and... A devil is right in front of you face. It is the black French bulldog, swimming right at her like a sea monster, its coal eyes bugging. It moves past her, like it is headed for Newfoundland.  Beyond it you saw something in the water. “What's that?”

Aegon saw what you were pointing to, and you made for it together. It was a piece of wooden debris, intricately carved. He pushed you up first then he slithered onto it belly down. Your breaths filled your ears as you glanced around at the scene around you. Both of you had to stay perfectly still or else the thing would plunge into the water. 

-

You both float amid a chorus of damned. Aegon noticed the ship's officer nearby, He was blowing his whistle furiously, knowing the sound would carry over the water for miles. “The boats will come back for us, you. Hold on just a little longer. They had to row away for the suction and now they'll be coming back.” You nodded, his words helping you. You were shivering uncontrollably and had turned a shade of blue. “Thank God for you, Aegon.”

“It's getting quiet.” Aegon weakly raises his head, “Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get the boats organized…” You didn’t believe him, half of the people around you were already dead. “I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this.”

He laughed weakly, but it sounded like a gasp of fear. “I love you, Aegon.” He took your hand. “No... don't say your good-byes, you. Don't you give up. Don't do it.” You felt your eyes beginning to close, “I'm so cold.”

“You're going to get out of this... you're going to go on and you're going to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?” You found the slightest bit of energy, “Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me.” You sniffle, “It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Aegon. I'm thankful.”

His voice trembled, “Do you still have that damned ring?” You hadn’t taken it out of your pocket, but you doubted it was still there. You slowly moved your head to the side and patted your ass. The fancy piece of shit was still with you. “I do.” He forced a smile, “You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... so that when we get out of here… you’ll let me marry you with that ring.” Your eyes clouded with tears, “I promise.”

“Never let go.” He gripped your hand and you laid with your heads together. “I promise. I will never let go, Aegon. I'll never let go.”

-

"Come Josephine in my flying machine..." You touched his shoulder with your free hand. He doesn't respond. you gently turned his face toward her. His breath was causing the air to run white… He wasn’t dead yet. 

Your eyes slowly began to close again… but then you heard the sound of a whistle. You raised your head suddenly, cracking the ice as you ripped her hair off the wood. You tried to call out, but your voice is so weak they don't hear you. The boat is invisible now, the torch light impossibly far away. “I won’t let go. I promise.” You kiss his face which was still not completely frozen. 

you rolled off the floating staircase and plunged into the icy water. You swam to Chief Officer Wilde's body and grabbed his whistle. You started to blow the whistle with all your might. 

You were still blowing when a man took it from your mouth as they hauled you into the boat. “Over there. Aegon Targ- Targaryen.” You purposely used his last name hoping they would recognize him. With your last bit of strength, you pointed at your little raft and slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Jaehaera was shocked when she got a call requesting her parents to come and “confirm” the belongings they found on the wrecked ship. It had been so many years… She couldn’t believe they were even able to discover it at all. 

She would have invited you and her father but you both passed recently, at the ripe age of 83. Aegon swore up and down he would never let go and he kept that promise, literally. He literally died in the same hospital bed as you, leaving Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, and Maelor on their own. You both were selfish assholes, but she couldn’t help but accept the invite. 

The three were absolutely fucking shocked to find a nude painting of their father along with some old notes. “Darling now you can keep us both locked in your safe -- Aegon.” None of them understood what that meant but decided to not question it. Jaehaera nervously played with the diamond engagement ring you had gifted her before you died. God, it probably cost a million dollars and you so easily gave it to her. 

She had to sit down and try to calm herself. You both were successful in your own right; you led adventurous lives and forced the three children to travel with you once they were born. You introduced them to so many different arts, music, and cultures. You were good parents… too good to be gone. She began crying into her hands as she searched through the belongings… 

Jaehaerys sat down next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. “Who would have guessed our parents had a love affair like the movies.” 

[orchideous-nox]

Rosekiller Pirate AU - Teaser

Chapter 3 should be coming later tonight, working on editing currently but here is a little teaser of what is to come!

“Apologies for my tardiness, sir. My colleague here came ahead, I was running late I’m afraid but we’re both here now.” Barty explained, slapping a hand playfully between Evan's shoulder blades. He hardly recognised him. It was like a different man spoke, one riddled with charisma and charm. “I suppose you should come in.” The man stepped out of the way to allow Barty and Evan inside, doing a double take as the former passed him. “Say, have we met before?” “I have not been to Portsmouth since I was a small boy so it is very unlikely you would recognise me; I mostly grew up in Southampton but did spend some time here as a youth.” Barty grinned, but it was all in his mouth, eyes dull and lifeless. It was as if the real smiles were reserved for when it was just the two of them. Part of Evan felt a thrill at that thought. Barty was capable of being nice, of being proper and well-mannered, but chose not to be on The Kraken’s Mercy, only when it was just the two of them did Barty show any kind of softness. “Southampton, you say. I hear HMS Racehorse just docked there.” Evan could see the way Barty paused for just a fraction of a second, smile faltering before he continued. “You don’t say, how marvellous.” Clearing his throat, Barty leaned forward on the desk and began talking as if he had rehearsed it, barely letting Evan get a word in edgeways.

I'm so excited for this chapter, I really love how it had turned out so far so hopefully you guys love it too!

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hii do you have any fics where kurt has to fight for / woo blaine after a fight/breakup/conflict ?

HI - we have so many great reconciliation or reunion fics that have been written. I can't always remember which are Kurt trying to woo back Blaine, but here are some examples which I hope are what you are looking for. ~Jen

Passed down like folk songs by dizzywhizz

A story of Kurt growing up, meeting his best friend and losing him and finding him again, discovering himself in the process.

~~~~~

A Song For Cordelia by MelissaMotown   [PDF]  [EPUB]

Kurt never called Blaine after the break up, despite Isabelle’s advice. It was not out of spite, or because he didn’t believe she was right, but because his heart didn’t know how to forgive. Five years later, when their paths cross once more, Kurt and Blaine decides to be friends again - just friends. But where the heart goes, the man follows…

Part Two: One of the Good Guys  [PDF]  [EPUB]

Part Three: Carry Me Home (never completed) [PDF]  [EPUB]

~~~~~

A Week in the Hamptons by Afvampd Read at:  [PDF]  [EPUB]

Faced with a “live or die” situation in his career, Kurt Hummel, a small fashion designer in New York City, decides to take a breather and escape the city for a week in a retreat organized by his best friend. Thinking he has left his nightmare behind, he heads to Southampton, but what awaits him there is a far bigger nightmare; the love of his life who broke his heart 6 years ago. One week stuck in the same house, will Kurt regret having left the city, or is this nightmare really a blessing in disguise?

~~~~~

The Luckiest by wordplay  

Blaine broke Kurt’s heart 3 months before high school graduation. Now, four years later, their group of friends reunites at a lake house to marry off two of their own. With luck, Kurt and Blaine will also be able to finally mend something that’s stayed broken for far too long.

~~~~~

Someone Like You by @iconicklaine

Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of “When Harry Met Sally” for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is… they’re both in committed relationships.

~~~~~

It’s A Wonderful Life by  DireDyre

Kurt never forgave Blaine for cheating, they never got back together, they moved on, married other people, started other families but ten-years-later when Rachel invites them to a party they realize they never moved on at all.

~~~~~

Since Sense Sensory by @gleefulpoppet

One rainy night, nestled at a patio table of a small café, Kurt broke off his engagement with Blaine in a moment of heated frustration that had been building for weeks. That was 12 years ago, and they haven’t seen each other since. Suddenly, they may find themselves reunited in a place they never expected. If you had a second chance with your first love, would you take it?

~~~~~

Stick Season by BlurglesmurfKlaine @jinglejavey

After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.

A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe. Based on the Stick Season album by Noah Kahan

~~~~~

With Every Broken Bone by @spaceorphan18

After finding that living together is proving to be too difficult, Kurt Hummel breaks off his engagement, and finds himself alone in the city that summer. As his life heads in a new direction, Kurt's forced to look back at the past, and re-examine his future, where he learns a little about himself, a lot about love, and that second chances are always a possibility.

Set at the end of season 5, a canon-compliant story that examines the question -- What was Kurt's journey between season 5 and season 6?

~~~~~

Hush, Hush The world is Quiet by starsandcologne

AU Prompt: “Have you noticed how exhausting it’s been ever since you moved back in?” Blaine’s ears rang. But instead of reacting in anger that night he just quietly apologies to Kurt ending the argument. After that Blaine becomes a virtual ghost in their apartment. Its not that hard considering he’s had plenty of practice growing up. It just hurts that his Dad was right all along about him being a nuisance. Luckily he knows how to fix it. Live by the motto “Don’t be seen, don’t be heard.”

~~~~~

Reprise by  Calliope_Melpomene  Read at:  [PDF]

  During Kurt’s senior year at NYADA, a life-changing event causes him to take a leave of absence and what was supposed to be a short stay turns into years. His life certainly isn’t what he expected, but he’s not exactly unhappy. His name is not lit up in lights on Broadway, but he’s involved in community theater and LGBTQ groups in Columbus and has friends who love him and casual lovers. But turning 35 has made him restless and he’s longing for the life he had before. Burt talks him into taking some classes at Ohio State University to finish his degree and start focusing on himself again. What Kurt finds on the OSU campus is much more than he bargained for.

[aisakalegacy]

Hiver 1921, Hylewood, Canada (6/15)

Après cette longue marche, je suis arrivé sur la côte de la Mer Rouge, au sud du port de Bérénice Troglodytique. Rif m’a quitté dès que nous avons aperçu la mer. Voyant un bateau soudanais qui venait du nord et espérant qu’il pourrait me ramener dans un port britannique, je me suis jeté à la mer et j’ai nagé dans sa direction, jusqu’à être repêché. Cinq jours plus tard, j’étais déposé à Aden à la pointe hadramoutienne du Yémen, duquel je gagnai Bombay en bateau avant de prendre un paquebot pour Southampton en contournant l’Afrique. Quatre semaines et trois jours plus tard, j’étais enfin de retour au Canada.

[logi1974]

Südengland / Cornwall 2024 - Tag 9

Ladies and Gentlemen!

Nur 15 Fahrminuten von unserer Unterkunft entfernt liegt das Adgestone Vineyard.

Ein 10 Hektar großes, sanft nach Süden abfallendes Weingut, dessen Hänge ursprünglich schon vor rund 2000 Jahren von den Römern mit Reben bepflanzt wurden. Derzeit sind neun Hektar mit Trauben bepflanzt und ein Hektar ungenutzt.

Es handelt sich tatsächlich um das älteste kontinuierlich betriebene Weingut in Großbritannien, gegründet 1968. Produziert werden bis zu 30.000 Flaschen englischer und Country-Weine pro Jahr.

Neben einer guten Auswahl an konventionelleren Weinen wird in Adgestone ein blauer Schaumwein aus Trauben hergestellt, die tatsächlich auch vor Ort angebaut werden.

Something Blue ist eine leicht sprudelnde Cuvée, die nach der Methode Traditionelle hergestellt wird. Es ist der einzige blaue Sparkling Wine, der in Großbritannien hergestellt wird.

Er wird nach der traditionellen Champagnermethode hergestellt und ruht vor der Freigabe zwei Jahre auf der Hefe, um seine Geschmackskomplexität zu steigern. Die natürliche blau-türkisfarbene Farbe des Cuvee ist besonders beliebt bei Hochzeiten, daher auch der Name. In vielerlei Hinsicht ist er wie traditionellere Schaumweine … nur eben in Blau.

Blauer Wein wird im Allgemeinen aus einer Mischung roter und weißer Trauben hergestellt, denen Anthocyane – ein Pigment aus roten Traubenschalen – zusammen mit dem organischen, pflanzlichen Lebensmittelfarbstoff Indigotime zugesetzt werden. Die genaue Methode ist ein streng gehütetes Geheimnis.

Der Schöpfer, der ehemalige Ingenieur Russ Broughton, arbeitete ursprünglich in der Robotik bei Ford, bevor er in die Containerhafenindustrie in Southampton und London Gateway wechselte. Zusammen mit der Unternehmensanwältin Philippa Jane kaufte er Adgestone Vineyard.

Weder Broughton noch Jane hatten zuvor Erfahrung in der Weinindustrie. Während eines Urlaubs entdeckte er eine Anzeige in der Lokalzeitung: “Vineyard For Sale”.

Adgestone Winery war einst ein prestigeträchtiges Weingut und gewann 1970 die Gore Brown Trophy für englischen Wein. 

Die ursprünglichen Seyval Blanc Reben aus dem Jahr 1968 sind bis heute erhalten – sie werden liebevoll als „Old Ladies“ bezeichnet und sie sind die ältesten kommerziellen Reben im Vereinigten Königreich.

Seit dem Kauf des Unternehmens im Jahr 2013 hat Broughton über 6.000 Reben gepflanzt, davon 3.000 im ersten Jahr, zusammen mit 600 Pfählen und 20 km Spalier. 

Er hat die Produktion von 3.000 Flaschen auf über 25.000 erhöht. Daneben wurde das Geschäft auf die Landwein- und Likörproduktion ausgeweitet.

Für 12 £ gibt es einen Audioguide, der die Besucher durch die Weinberge führt. Für 15 £ lässt sich auch ein 30-minütiger animierter und informativer Wein-Chat (inklusive Verkostung) buchen, der die Entwicklung der englischen Weinindustrie von den Römern bis heute, die verschiedenen angebauten Sorten und auch detailliertes Weinbauwissen, behandelt. Beides im Paket kostet 22 £.

Die Tische waren nur mäßig voll. Zugegebenermaßen kamen wir erst nach dem Mittagsansturm um 14:30 Uhr an. Die Tiere des Hauses (verschiedene exotische Hühnerrassen & Hunde) wuselten zwischen den Tischen herum und hofften darauf, dass zufällig etwas herunter fällt. 

Die Hühner waren ausgesprochen zahm und ließen sich streicheln. Sehr amüsierten wir uns darüber, als sie sich über die Wasserschalen der Hunde hermachten. 

Als ob sie kein Wasser oben in ihrem Gehege hätten - aber woanders schmeckt es eben immer viel besser. Das war bei uns, als wir Kinder waren, auch nicht anders.

Der Service war zügig. Überaus flott wurde unsere große, gemischte kalte Platte, natürlich begleitet von einem Glas “Something Blue”, serviert.

Ganz günstig ist dieser Spaß natürlich nicht. 27 £ für die kalte Platte für zwei Personen und ein Glas “Something Blue” kostet schlappe 9,50 £ - für die ganze Flasche werden respektable 46 £ (im Shop 41,95 £) aufgerufen. 

Adgestones charakteristische Geschmacksnote, der die Essensplatten begleitet, ist das auf Chili basierende „Arson Fire“, und der Nameszug erscheint auch auf der Rückseite der T-Shirts des Personals: mit Flammen, die aus ihrem Hintern aufsteigen. Englischer Humor eben!

Die Audiotour, das Gartenlokal und mit dem angenehme Sitzbereich im Freien machen das Adgestone zu einem interessanten und angenehmen Weingut.

Natürlich nehmen wir hier auch dieses Mal eine Kiste des Verkaufsschlagers “Something Blue” aus dem Shop mit.

Wer hat schon englischen Schaumwein zu Hause - und noch dazu blauen Schaumwein? Ich kenne Keinen!

Good Night

Angie, Micha und Mister Bunnybear (Hasenbär)

[corner-stories]

transatlanticism

Pieck Finger. Porco Galliard. Ocean Air. Language Barriers. Sharing Coats. Steamship AU. 1932 words. (ao3.) || part 2.

She’s seen him in steerage before. It’s impossible not to. That particular portion of the ship is exceedingly cramped, as passengers have a tendency to be packed and prodded like cattle. 

She knows him to associate with the other engineers, boilermakers, and stokers, the men who spend all their time making the ship move. She guesses that there aren’t any other places on the vessel where they are welcome, making steerage the only change of scenery they might get from the constant fires below, even if just for a meal. She’s not entirely sure what his exact role is, but the way he always stretches out his right shoulder makes her guess that he’s a stoker. He looks to be the youngest, practically a child sitting amongst men, and one can only imagine the circumstances that could cause someone so youthful to do such dangerous, thankless work. 

She herself sticks with the other passengers, though it’s not entirely through her own choice. It’s hard not to, considering how little space there is to move in steerage. She tends to rub elbows with strangers more often than she would like. As a result she tries to stick close to her Papa, even if all he ever does is rest on the communal bunks. In his condition and age, it’s all he ever has energy for.

There are not many things to do as the Sina moves forward. Staring at the ocean through the porthole loses its appeal after long enough, it does little alleviate the sense of restlessness that the iron walls bestow. The only indication of the passage of time are the three meals served every day, a courtesy provided by the vessel, and each one of them consists of weak tea, watery porridge, and bread so dense that it’s nearly impossible to chew. 

There’s a stench that permeates the space, a byproduct of too many people being gathered in too little a space. The lack of fresh air makes her worry for her Papa’s health, but even when she prods him in the bunk he insists that he can survive until they arrive.

She’s fortunate to share a language with some of the passengers, as her and her Papa aren’t the only migrants hailing from Germany. However, her attempts at English leave much to be desired. It makes her wonder if she will be woefully unprepared once the ship docks in New York, but by the second day en route she knows that there’s no turning back. 

Not that there’s much for them to consider turning back for…

It’s on the third night of the journey that she decides to escape the confines of steerage, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the lack of fresh air or the claustrophobic feelings she cannot shake off. After dinner her Papa falls asleep, so she leaves him be and begins exploring the ship. 

She leaves steerage through a narrow hallway, expecting to find the doors that were bolted shut once the Sina left Southampton. She is pleasantly surprised to see no such thing. She doesn’t go far until she finds a staircase and with her short legs she ascends. The sound of the sea gets louder with each step. 

She expected more of a battle to get outside, as the first night on the ship a boy from steerage explored the hallways with the kind of doe-eyed curiosity that only children can hold. His journey only lasted for so long though, as he was promptly brought back to the depths by an angry crew member. Because god forbid those in second and first-class lay eyes on something as unsightly as a poor child.

As she goes higher and higher she anticipates another locked door, as things are beginning to feel too good to be true.

But to her own shock, Pieck arrives at the top of the staircase to find an open concertina gate.

A sigh of relief leaves her the second she breathes in the salty sea air. She is now at one of the upper decks, though she’s not sure which one. The place that is practically pristine compared to the confines below. She’s already imagining how she’ll encourage her Papa to come with her tomorrow night, and how she will bring him here to get a relief from the atmosphere of steerage. 

Underneath a moonless sky Pieck steps across the promenade. The night blows a rush of cold air in her direction, making the ends of her hair, coat, and dress flutter in the wind. She puts a hand on her hat as she looks around, the lights of the vessel’s exterior are only illuminating the deck. The glow barely reaches the sea, making it seem that the Sina is truly surrounded by darkness.

Upon looking up she sees the crow’s nest and ship’s four smoking funnels, then guesses that she’s near the bow. And it’s only when she approaches the front of the ship that she truly sees him. 

The young man from steerage, the one close to her age and constantly covered in soot, is sitting on a bench. He doesn’t look like he belongs there, whether it’s because of the sweat clinging to his skin or the fact that one doesn’t expect to see a crew member at this part of the ship. 

As Pieck moves forward she begins noticing other things about the Stoker, like how his hair is dirty blond or how he’s eating a piece of bread too soft to have been served in steerage. Perhaps he had snagged something from one of the nicer dining rooms. When he’s not eating he’s looking at the dark expanse that surrounds the Sina, staring off like he’s only focused on the atmosphere and not one thing in particular.

It only takes a few more steps for the Stoker to notice her, and when he does his eyes widen in surprise. 

He stands up and Pieck is startled. She stops walking and wonders if she caught him off guard.

“Good evening,” she greets in her native tongue. She puts on a friendly smile, as she has no reason not to. “You… you don’t mind some company, do you?”

The Stoker looks shocked to see her, he’s staring at her like she’s something he would have never come across before. It makes her feel unnerved in a way she doesn’t truly understand.

For a moment Pieck thinks back to the few times she had seen him in the lower decks. She can’t recall him ever looking back when he catches her eye, and even then the place is shrouded in shadows and she’s so small in comparison to their cruel world — it’s silly to think that she could ever stand out to him. 

The Stoker continues to look at her, but nods his head. It’s only now when Pieck notices that his hair is slicked back and his eyes are hazel, practically shimmering in the light of the promenade.

After a beat he opens his mouth and speaks to her, but it’s in a language that she doesn’t understand. She furrows her brow and tries to recognize what it is. Her best guess is French or maybe Italian, but her knowledge of both is extremely limited. She speaks as much German as most girls from Hamburg would, but that and her imperfect English might not be enough to help her now. 

He continues talking and the way he holds himself is very casual, so he can’t possibly be saying anything bad. But alas, it’s not enough to help her comprehend a single thing.

“Forgive me, but I don’t know what you’re saying,” she tells him before fearing that her words must sound like utter nonsense. 

A twinge of embarrassment tenses at Pieck’s stomach. She tightens her coat both to stave off the chill and keep her hands busy. Her attempt at getting fresh air is beginning to feel more mortifying by the second and she’s not entirely sure why. She blows on her fingers, which are feeling more and more numb as the moments go on. 

“Is… are you cold?” the Stoker soon asks, speaking in a way that implies it took a while for him to think of the correct way to say it. His gaze softens as it settles onto her. 

Pieck looks up and meets his eyes. His English might be as good as hers, which on one hand isn’t much of an achievement, but on the other means that they have something in common.

She nods her head. “Yes.”

The Stoker doesn’t hesitate. He puts down his bread roll before reaching for his own jacket, he slips it off and hands it over to her. Like hers it’s threadbare and woven, as if it had seen years of tarnish and use, but unlike hers it looks just a little bit thicker, a little more rugged, like it was meant to withstand the throes of life. 

“Here,” the Stoker offers. He takes a slight step forward to encourage her. “It is dirty… but warm.” 

Pieck shakes her head. “I can’t.” She immediately feels horrible and wishes her late mother’s coat wouldn’t make her shiver so much.

There is a beat while both of them don’t move, the only sounds being that of the ocean, but soon the Stoker takes another step forward. Pieck remains still as he drapes his jacket over her slender shoulders, letting it hang off her like a cloak. 

Pieck immediately avoids his gaze, even when parts of her are no longer as frigid as they once were. “You didn’t need to,” she tells him, though she can’t hide the smile on her face. She’s not sure what she had done to earn this level of kindness from him, especially since they’ve only just met, but she finds no reason to complain. 

The Stoker manages a grin as well. Underneath his coat he is as muscled as expected, a testament to his status as a laborer. His shirt and suspenders are covered in soot, just like the rest of him.

Soon he reaches his hand up and plants it on his chest, where he taps the spot above his heart once. 

“Porco.”

Pieck tilts her head to the side, partially aware of what he’s saying but unsure why he’s saying it. 

The Stoker is undeterred and touches his chest again, slower this time. 

“Porco,” he repeats, each tap emphasizing each syllable.

It doesn’t take her long to understand. It’s a simple introduction, one undeterred by whatever barriers their native tongues are placing between them. 

So Pieck mirrors his movement, bringing her own hand up to her heart and touching herself there. 

“Pieck,” she says in a similar tone. “I am Pieck.” 

“Pieck…” Porco repeats, trying out her name. 

She can’t help but giggle at this, finding amusement in the way he reacts to her. She wonders if her name sounds foreign to him, as she’s not sure how many people named ‘Pieck’ live on his side of the world. And afterall this is definitely the first time she has met someone named Porco. 

“That’s me,” she assures him, though a teasing quality enters her voice. “But tell me, is Porco really your name?”

Porco tilts his head to the side. “Hmmm?”

Pieck hums before blowing some air out of her nose, which enters the atmosphere in a small cloud. Perhaps she had spoken a little too fast for his understanding.

“Nevermind,” she says instead, the warmth of her coat and his now practically enveloping her. “It’s nice to meet you… Porco.”

[oochilka]

Southampton and Walsingham 60s spies au!

[noxsoulmate]

WIP Wednesday

Hey, my friends, guess who's back 😊 first of all, I would love to thank all of you who kept tagging me even though I was absent, especially @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, and @bonheur-cafe - it means the world to me 😘

As you can see, I'm finally back to working on my Tarlos Titanic AU 🥰 and to start us off, I decided to show you their first meeting (kinda... it's not the whole scene...)

Since I'm still struggling with my decision on tenses I'm handing you this scene in both versions. Below the cut, you'll find the same scene in past tense and also a little poll. It would mean a lot to me if you could please take the time to see which version you prefer and let me know 💖

But now, without further ado, let's dive back into 1912 and a little pub in the shadier parts of Southampton...

Version 1: Present Tense

TK wants to stay in this place forever because it gives him a sort of calm, a sense of freedom that he has rarely felt in his life. 

And there’s also Carlos Reyes.

Seeing the man walk in their direction, it’s as if a Greek god himself stepped out of an old painting, and TK hasn’t been able to truly breathe. Hearing his voice for the first time sends shivers down his spine and only twenty-seven years of strict etiquette lessons are to thank for not embarrassing himself at that moment.

When their gazes meet, TK’s sure that time stands still for just a little while and he only hopes he isn’t imagining the man’s gaze lingering on him for a little longer.

He’s hardly able to follow the brief exchange between Carlos and Judd, but he is jolted back to life when they shake hands. Carlos’ hand is warm and while it is certainly roughened from whatever work he does, it still feels soft in its own way. 

And maybe TK is imagining that hand on his body while he’s caught in brown eyes and a beautiful smile.

When they settle down, TK feels Carlos’ shoulder press against his side, heavily aware of every movement the man makes. It has the little hairs on his arm stand up, and he’s just barely able to suppress shivering in pleasure at the warmth radiating through his body.

He truly tries to concentrate on the conversation around the table, but… well, there is a very distracting presence right next to him. The reason, basically, why they snuck out and came here. And now it’s sitting right next to TK, so who can blame him when Grace, Judd, Wyatt, when the music and the chatter all around them soon become background noise. His mind focuses on the way Carlos is basically attached to him, their sides pressed against each other, from their legs right up to their arms.

When he moves his head, he sees the man’s profile, sees the way those warm eyes rest on their group – but a moment later, they are on him, and his breath catches in his throat. Still, he manages a smile that he hopes looks less nervous than he is and far more flirty. Carlos’ brown eyes are captivating, and damn, TK has to turn away again, or else he might do something rather stupid.

Trying hard to concentrate back on Grace and Judd – who are currently laughing about something that TK completely missed – he isn’t prepared for the feeling when Carlos’ body moves, leaning closer into him.

”Would you care to dance?” 

The question is whispered into his ear, Carlos’ lips even closer than he anticipated, and this time, he is unable to stop the pleasant shiver it sends down his spine. He turns just enough to catch his gaze again and if Carlos hadn’t moved, TK knows their lips might have very well touched. 

“I would love to,” he tells him truthfully. 

Version 2: Past Tense

TK wanted to stay in this place forever because it gave him a sort of calm, a sense of freedom that he had rarely felt in his life. 

And there was also Carlos Reyes.

Seeing the man walk in their direction, it was as if a Greek god himself had stepped out of an old painting, and TK hadn’t been able to truly breathe. Hearing his voice for the first time sent shivers down his spine and only twenty-seven years of strict etiquette lessons were to thank for not embarrassing himself at that moment.

When their gazes met, TK was sure that time stood still for just a little while and he only hoped he wasn’t imagining the man’s gaze lingering on him for a little longer.

He was hardly able to follow the brief exchange between Carlos and Judd, but he was jolted back to life when they shook hands. Carlos’ hand was warm and while it was certainly roughened from whatever work he did, it still felt soft in its own way. 

And maybe TK was imagining that hand on his body while he was caught in brown eyes and a beautiful smile.

When they settled down, TK felt Carlos’ shoulder press against his side, heavily aware of every movement the man made. It had the little hairs on his arm stand up, and he was just barely able to suppress shivering in pleasure at the warmth radiating through his body.

He truly tried to concentrate on the conversation around the table, but… well, there was a very distracting presence right next to him. The reason, basically, why they’d snuck out and come here. And now it was sitting right next to TK, so who could blame him when Grace, Judd, Wyatt, when the music and the chatter all around them soon became background noise. His mind focused on the way Carlos was basically attached to him, their sides pressed against each other, from their legs right up to their arms.

When he moved his head, he saw the man’s profile, saw the way those warm eyes rested on their group – but a moment later, they were on him, and his breath caught in his throat. Still, he managed a smile that he hoped looked less nervous than he was and far more flirty. Carlos’ brown eyes were captivating, and damn, TK had to turn away again, or else he might do something rather stupid.

Trying hard to concentrate back on Grace and Judd – who were currently laughing about something that TK had completely missed – he wasn’t prepared for the feeling when Carlos’ body moved, leaning closer into him.

”Would you care to dance?” 

The question was whispered into his ear, Carlos’ lips even closer than he had anticipated, and this time, he was unable to stop the pleasant shiver it sent down his spine. He turned just enough to catch his gaze again and if Carlos hadn’t moved, TK knew their lips might have very well touched. 

“I would love to,” he told him truthfully. 

Noxy’s Tagging List:

@detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @actuallysara, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @wtfuckevenknows, @paperstorm, @lightningboltreader, @meditating-honey-badger, @just-inside-her, @alidravana, @morganaspendragonss, @bonheur-cafe, @heartstringsduet, @ravens-words, @lire-casander, @otter-love-asl, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @buckybarnesalways, @mangacat201, @catanisspicy, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @a-kinkajou, @juuls, @paxdracona

[timeguardians]

Who all did you give Titanic verses to and what do they look like?

Gabby Dawson:

She is likely third class, traveling to New York from Southampton with Antonio and his family. The trip was likely to visit Laura's family for a big event. From New York, they were to make their way back home to Chicago.

_____________________________________________________________

Belle (Beauty and the Beast) Lamoreaux

She is traveling third class with her father. They did not initially get tickets for the Titanic, but because of the coal strike, they got bumped from their original ship.

They board the Titanic at Cherbourg, France. Maurice likely scraped and scrounged to purchase boarding passes by selling his lastest inventions. He always dreamed of starting a NEW and happier life with Belle. One, he thought they could discover in America.

______________________________________________________

Missy Cooper:

She is traveling with the entire Cooper family in second class. Her family does NOT have the means to afford their accommodations. The University of Heidelberg, where Sheldon is set to study, provided the passage to and from as an effort to entice Sheldon to attend. They also gifted the Coopers a tour of Germany and France. Like Belle and Maurice, they likely board in Cherbourg, France.

_____________________________________

Elizabeth Swann

As the Governor's daughter, has the privilege of sailing first class. Their suite is likely on B deck. They likely travel with a good bit of luggage and help. That may include William Turner, for extra spicey drama. Elizabeth is OBSESSED with the ocean and is content to sit on the upper decks in her heavy coat, so that she can watch the horizon.

_________________________________________________________

Susan Pevensie (okay but fudging the timelines a little bit given her father fought in WWII and her mother was a War Correspondent.) Her mother, growing more listless with amplifying air assaults, decides it is time to send the children to SAFER territory. Petitioning the professor, she secures Second Class tickets for Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. Having been booked for another ship, they too find themselves booked upon the Titanic in one cabin, midship on F deck. They end up boarding in Southampton, England.

(In the ugliest of ugly AUS-- they are trapped below deck as the ship begins to sink. Susan is the only one pulled from the water. Instead of having the train wreck at the end of the Last Battle. Susan ends up living out the rest of her days with survivors' guilt.)

__________________________________________

Brianna Wayne:

Is sailing back to America with Alfred after a European tour in a first class series of suites with their own parlor. This is in celebration of her graduation from Princeton University.

[emsuemsu]

@hprecfest day 27: muggle au

Muggle au’s are the bane of my existence. I have such a deep love-hate relationship to them and I don't even know why. Every time I say I don't fuck with muggle au's I go and read like five of them back to back. I am Icarus and muggle au's are my sun 🥹

these violent delights (have violent ends) by @imdamagecontrol 🩵 95,138 words, regulus/james, sirius/remus

The RMS Titanic is the Ship of Dreams—considered unsinkable and insurmountable in her luxury, she is the largest ocean liner in the world. Her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York begins 10 April 1912 with more than 2,000 souls on board. Regulus and Sirius Black are English-French royalty and First Class passengers. It's a luxury most can only dream of. But for both brothers, the Titanic is a nightmare bringing them closer to futures they do not want. James Potter and Remus Lupin aren't supposed to be on the Titanic. They get lucky winning Third Class tickets in a poker game just moments before she sets sail. For them it's a fresh start, a sure shot to new lives and freedom across the sea. It's purely by accident that their paths cross; First and Third Class passengers don't often end up in the same spaces. Yet this time they do, and what begins is a tumultuous and harrowing love story marked by a tragedy none of them will ever forget.

Ma’am 😀 sir 😀 your honor 😀 I'm devastated. In the best way possible, again. It's everything you can assume from a Titanic AU. Pain and heartbreak, but delivered in such a beautiful, poetic at times way. In love with this one, I re-read it before writing this and it hit even more the second time reading it. I don't think I've yet read a happy jegulus fic, I am convinced there is no such thing as happiness with these two at this point in my life.

to be where I'm going (in the sunshine of your love) by theweightofmywords 🩵 19,080 words, draco/harry

"He imagined Draco’s smile, all gums and slightly crooked teeth, his hair slicked back with Pacific water, and he knew: He’d travel as long as he’d need to if it meant he’d see that face. If it meant that Draco would hear the message he’d been carrying for so long. Maybe he didn’t have to travel the road alone anymore." Draco and Harry go on a road trip together. It's about the journey, not the destination.

There's something about american road trips that make me WEAK. I dream of going back to visit the places I didn't have the chance to visit while I lived there, but I'm so scared they'd yeet my ass back to Europe at the border because of my unpaid taxes. Idk how the american government works, do they keep records of that kind of stuff?? Whatever. This fic is a vibe with all capitals. So sweet, so soft, so angsty, a perfect mix of everything I need in life. There's the euphoric getting together while on the road part, there's the unavoidable coming back to home-crash (speaking from experience, that shit hurts) and there's the happy ending these stupid boys deserve, every goddamn time, in every universe, muggle or magic. Lovely.

[mykingdomforasong]

Ooh, how about Historical + Huddling for Warmth with DinLuke for the mashup?

((I have a wip where Din is basically Shakespeare and Luke is his patron (Earl of Southampton), so I've set it in that universe -- England circa 1593 (the plague summer). This is a very self-indulgent AU. This doesn't fit the prompt that well, but it's the historical period I know the most about.))

Rating - M (could maybe be T)

~

Din sat at Luke's writing desk, his fingers of his left hand scratching at the fine, polished wood, as his right hand clutched a quill that scratched away at the parchment. Candles and moonlight lit the room. A rare breeze blew through the room, cooling the hot summer air with all the force of a child blowing the steam off a hot stew.

The right word was evading him. He'd tried half a dozen or so, but none of them fit the meter or set up the right rhyme. His foul paper was covered in more scratched out words than final ones. He felt guilty for abusing his master's fine paper in such a manner, but there was no other way.

He stopped scratching, and instead turned into tapping.

Impediments, he wrote. tap TAP tap TAP. Yes, that would do.

"Master poet," Luke called to him from his spot on the bed. In his usual fashion, he hadn't dressed after making love, choosing to just wrap himself up in his sheets and drift to sleep. He pushed himself up now, the candle light dancing off the blonde hairs of his chest. "As your patron, I must insist you stop writing and return to bed."

Din had left him in a flurry of sheet and pillows when he felt the muse call to him. His coy mistress had abandoned him though by the time he reached ink and paper. With his newly discovered word impediments he'd managed to squeak out a single line.

"I felt inspired, my lord," Din told him.

"You can be inspired over here," Luke said. He reached out his left hand, trying to pull Din back in his direction as if through the air. "It's such a cold night. I'd appreciate some words to warm my bed."

Din laughed. He'd pulled on a linen undershirt when he'd gotten out of bed and nothing else. Even that was already sticking to his chest with sweat. The August heat and the light of the candles kept the room hellish, and their nightly activities only made it worse.

"I think I should keep my distance if you feel chilled in this weather," Din said, but he dared not speak any more in jest for fear of welcoming Death into the home.

Luke flopped back onto the mattress with a dramatic flare to rival Din's own fellow players.

"I'm not chilly," he admitted to his lie, "just burdened with desire."

"Then you should feel hot," Din corrected. "I don't know that I would help alleviate that feeling."

"You, master poet, are the only one who can," Luke said, propping himself up just a little to see if Din would move towards him.

Din abandoned his sonnet, stood up from the desk, and stripped off his linens.

Luke's bed was feather-stuffed, and his bedding was cotton and silk. The air around him seemed always so impossibly perfumed; all luxuries Din imagined belonging to Cleopatra and Helen of Troy. And yet, here they were now, under his knees.

"You, my lord, are a lusty devil," Din said, retaking his position over his patron. Luke's sweet mouth met his. Din felt his hand in his hair, and the stump of his right wrist where Luke had lost his hand trace down his side.

"And thou, master poet, are incredibly tedious." Luke's hand was between them now, moving in lawless ways.

"I'll write you a sonnet in so high a style, Luke, that no man living shall come over it, for in most beautiful truth you deserve it," Din promised. Luke always flushed with passion when Din used his Christian name.

"Any words that might keep you from me tonight are foul," Luke insisted.

"No," Din protested, kissing his cheek, then neck, then chest. "Fair, only fair words."

"Fair is foul," Luke said. Din couldn't quite make sense of that one.

"Then stop my mouth," Din said.

Luke did as he was bid, and captured his mouth again. Luke wrapped his legs around Din, pressing Din even closer as if he wanted every inch of Din to be flush against him. Din always managed to forget just how strong Luke's legs had become from a lifetime of riding. He found himself utterly at the mercy of his patron.

[aristocratic-otter]

Apologies, friends! I got overwhelmed this week and ended up falling far behind. I promise I'll get to every one of your posts!

In the meantime, thank you to @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, @j-nipper-95, @urban-sith, @palimpsessed, @hushed-chorus, @alleycat0306, @whogaveyoupermission, @sosoapi, @larkral, @theearlgreymage for the tags over the last week.

Tagging (for Wednesday, obvs) and blowing kisses to everyone above, and @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @excalisbury, @erzbethluna, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ileadacharmedlife, @ic3-que3n, @johnwgrey, @jbrrring, @krisrix, @letraspal, @messofthejess, @moodandmist, @nausikaaa, @nightimedreamersghost, @otherworldsivelivedin, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @upuntil6am, @whatevertheweather, @yellobb-old

Snippets under the cut

From: To Heal a Broken Mind:

 I just hold him, stroking his hair, as he slowly comes back to himself. 

Finally, his eyes open. “Wha’ happened?” he slurs. 

“A seizure,” I say shortly. 

“Why ‘m I on the ground?” 

I don’t want to distress him right now, so I simply say, “it was worse than usual.”

From: Westward Son:

I’m a damned coward. I watched my friends and family arrive and make camp from the dense branches of a weeping willow. I watched them go through their evening routine and, one by one, settle in for the night. And then I stood vigil for the rest of the night. 

I waited until Baz was out of sight this morning before I returned to the wagon train. I couldn’t face both of their reactions at once.

From: Raising Dragons:

Baz is exhausted. He had his exams this last week, and tonight is the first time he’s been able to sleep in our bed in a week, after nodding off over his notes every other day. I’m not even back to work yet. I don’t go back for months, so it is most definitely my turn to take the nighttime wake ups. 

I’ve got to step up. Be a dad. But I don’t know how.

From: Saving Simon Snow (New chapter tonight!):

“Y–you…you want to…do that? With me?” Merlin, I’ve thrown Baz so off his game that he’s actually stuttering. 

“I…” I pause, wondering what the right thing to say here is. I think we probably should have sex, yes, because I don’t trust Baz’s family or any of the other old families not to come up with a way to legally annul this marriage. It’s definitely occurred to me that they could decide to throw me back in prison now, and Baz would survive it just fine, since the conditions of his vow were met when his father had me released the first time.

From: my COBB (it has a name, but the name is a spoiler!):

I’m back at the front gates, and beginning to draw a crowd. 

Some of the newcomers are clearly guards or something, because they’re wearing the same strangely mediaeval looking uniform as the angry guy. But a lot of them are kids. Some as young as ten or eleven, I think. 

Is this a school? Or an orphanage? 

And I got inspired by a convo on the COTTA discord, so here's the bare beginnings of an Age of Sail AU (yes, a fucking seventh WIP) (Soon to be 8 unless I finish one of the nearly done ones first):

He’s standing across from me, frowning fiercely as I take my time thinking through the order he’s just given me. 

“Show me the cargo hold, cabin boy!”

The command, uttered in the perfectly posh and self-assured accent of the SS Watford’s most obnoxious passenger, caught me by surprise. Tyrannus Basilton, or Baz, as I’ve heard his mother calling him, has ignored me for the most part, since we set sail from the port of Southampton. When he’s come across me in his explorations of the ship, he doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me like I’m something particularly foul that he’s just stepped in. 

I hate him. 

From my other mystery project, which I've decided to share the name of today (I don't think it's too spoilery), The Naked Next:

“Well, everything looks right as rain, here,” I say, smiling at her coolly. “In fact, if you were any more perfect, you’d be in biology textbooks.”

“I am in biology textbooks,” she says flatly. “My physiology is unique, after all.” I stare at her, wondering if she’s kidding. Her lips remain a flat line and her eyes are flinty. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. 

[farnwedel]

Samantha Young

King’s Way – Verlockende Berührung

Zum Abschluss dieses Adventskranzes tatsächlich ein...kann ich "Standalone" sagen oder fangen die Hauptfiguren dann an, infantil zu kichern? Jedenfalls hat das hier sowas wie einen Plot.

Kapitel 1 – Craig

Wer? Salisbury Craig?

Ah, nee. Der Typ, dem Braden mal eine reingehauen…egal. Craig ist ein Aufreißer, der ein Problem hat, dass seine Mutter sich mit 55 zum Onlinedating angemeldet hat. Abends im Club 39 (er ist Joss‘ Kollege) sieht er eine atemberaubende Frau, die gekleidet ist wie ein Pin-up-Girl aus den 40ern.

Kapitel 2 – Rain

Ja, davon gibt’s in Edinburgh genug.

Rain also kommt in den Club 39 auf der Suche nach dem Ex ihrer Schwester Darcy, einem Typen namens Angus York (ayyy. Cousin von Herbert Liverpool, George Southampton und Albert Norwich, nehme ich an), dem sie das Leben zur Hölle machen will. Craig flirtet mit ihr. Sie sagt, dass er sich das sparen kann, weil sie keine ONS mitmacht. Schreckt ihn natürlich nicht ab und weil er 25, damit ein Jahr älter als sie und unglaublich sexy ist (KINDER. KINDER SEID IHR), wird sie natürlich feucht. Allerdings geht sie nachts um drei alleine nach Hause.

Kapitel 3 – Craig

Craig geht sehr erwachsen damit um, dass seine Mutter ein Date im Speziellen und sexuelle Bedürfnisse im Allgemeinen hat. Nicht. Außerdem geht Rain ihm nicht mehr aus dem Kopf. Die heute Abend wieder in der Bar ist. Joss meint zu Craig, wenn sie ein Mann wäre, würde sie es auch mit Rain machen (Bisexualität existiert hier nicht!). Rain trinkt etwas zu viel, Craig bringt sie in ein Hinterzimmer und bietet ihr Wasser an. Dort erzählt sie ihm, dass Angus von Darcy und sich ein Sexvideo gemacht und das auf einer Party allen gezeigt hatte (ah. Er ist außerdem verwandt mit Hardin Scott). Darcy ist daraufhin nach Australien geflohen. Jetzt will Rain etwas über Angus herausfinden, um sein Leben ebenso zu zerstören. Craig beschließt für sich, sie davon ab- und gleichzeitig zu sich selbst hinzubringen. Dummerweise bleibt sie nicht bis Ende der Schicht in der Bar.

Kapitel 4 – Rain

Sie geht wieder in die Bar. Diesmal ist Angus tatsächlich da. Rain flirtet mit ihm, spürt dabei aber die ganze Zeit Craigs Blick im Rücken. Als sie auf Toilette geht, um Angus für ein paar Minuten zu entkommen, zieht Craig sie auf die barrierefreie Toilette, fragt sie, was zum Teufel sie da mache, und küsst sie, obwohl sie mehrfach sagt, er soll sie los- und rauslassen. Aber sie findet’s geil, also ist das schon okay. Hinterher flieht sie direkt aus der Bar.

Kapitel 5 – Rain

Oh. Ohhh! Sie treffen sich im Black Medicine Café. Das kenn ich! Gibt dort sehr guten Kaffee. Ist allerdings nicht barrierefrei.

Also, Rain sucht Angus dort auf, aber der taucht nicht auf, dafür aber Craig. Er warnt sie vor Angus. Sie erzählt ihm von dem Trauma, mit Darcy bei ihrer alkoholkranken Tante aufzuwachsen und dass sie sich schuldig fühlt, weil sie Darcy zwei Jahre lang mit ihrer Tante alleine gelassen hatte, als sie 18 war. Deswegen hat sie hohe emotionale Ansprüche an eine Beziehung und bisher konnte kein Mann diese erfüllen. Komischerweise schreckt das Craig nicht ab.

Kapitel 6 – Craig

„[Es gefällt mir, w]enn du mich Schätzchen nennst.“ Ihr Blick war voller Argwohn. „Ich dachte, wir wollten bloß Freunde sein?“ „Freunde flirten miteinander.“ Er tat es mit einem Schulterzucken ab. „Nur die Art Freunde, die vögeln.“ Lust flammte in ihm auf und schoss schnurstracks in seinen Schwanz. Er rutschte unbehaglich auf seinem Stuhl hin und her und musste einmal tief durchatmen. Rain, die das Glühen in seinen Augen bemerkt hatte, lehnte sich auf ihrem Stuhl zurück, als wollte sie zu ihm auf Abstand gehen. „Ernsthaft? Ich kann nicht mal das Wort >vögeln< sagen, ohne dass du durchdrehst?“ „Wenn du so ein Wort in den Mund nimmst, muss ich automatisch daran denken, wie du was ganz anderes in den Mund nimmst…“

JUNGE.

Ich bin zu ace für den Scheiß.

Sie beschließen, „befreundet“ zu sein und gehen spazieren. Auf der Royal Mile. Rain in High-Heels. Viel Spaß.

Auf den Meadows klären sie, dass sie beide später mal Kinder wollen. Dann bietet er an, sie nach Hause zu bringen, wo sie schon in Morningside wohnt. Auf dem Weg dorthin kauft er ihr in ihrer Lieblingsbäckerei ihre Lieblingscupcakes und geht dann sogar mit ihr in die Bücherei, weil das für sie ein Lieblingsort ist.

Kapitel 7 – Rain

Natürlich knutschen sie in den hinteren Regalreihen der Bibliothek. Dann bringt er sie erst nach und dann zu Hause. Dreimal. Es ist der beste Sex, den sie beide je hatten. Wie schön.

Kapitel 8 - Craig

Sie gehen edel essen. Paar Tage später kommt er nach der Arbeit bei ihr vorbei.

Sie trug ein dunkelblaues Nachthemd […], bei dessen Anblick […] sein Schwanz sich zusammenzog.

Ähm. Klingt kontraproduktiv?

Sie vögeln trotzdem im Flur. Am nächsten Morgen telefoniert Craig mit seiner Mutter und erzählt ihr, er habe „die Eine“ gefunden.

Kapitel 9 – Rain

Sie glaubt noch immer nicht, dass das mit Craig und ihr auf Dauer gutgeht. Craigs Schwester Maggie kommt zu Besuch und traumatisiert ein kleines Kind mit Gruselgeschichten vom Monster unterm Bett. Rain telefoniert mit Darcy und will ihren Racheplan wieder aufwärmen.

Kapitel 10 – Rain

Sie geht in die Bar. Obwohl er weiß, dass sie da ist, flirtet Craig mit anderen Frauen, was sie verletzt. Angus taucht auf und lässt nach wenigen Sätzen durchblicken, dass er sie durchschaut hat. Craig rettet Rain und haut Angus eine rain rein. Rain ist ihm böse und verlässt die Bar.

Kapitel 11 – Craig

Er rennt ihr nach, fährt mit ihr nach Hause, sie streiten in ihrer Wohnung über Vertrauen und vollkommene Hingabe und Trauma und Übergriffigkeit und Projektion und alle anderen Dinge, über die ich jetzt viel sagen könnte, aber meine Kapazitäten dafür sind grade etwas erschöpft. Dann macht sie Schluss und wirft ihn aus der Wohnung.

Kapitel 12 – Craig

Seine Mutter wäscht ihm den Kopf. Recht hat sie.

Kapitel 13 – Rain

Craig kommt vorbei, drängt sich in ihre Wohnung, entschuldigt sich und sie gestehen einander ihre ewige Liebe.

Kapitel 14 – Rain

Darcy ruft an. Sie habe in Australien wen kennengelernt und werde dort bleiben. Rain solle doch zu ihr ziehen. Rain kommt nicht einmal dazu, ihr von Craig zu erzählen, und sagt natürlich ja, weil sie ihre kleine Schwester nicht im Stich lassen will. Diesmal werden Craig und sie sich also einvernehmlich trennen – denn er will bei seiner Familie in Edinburgh bleiben.

Kapitel 15 – Rain

Rain fühlt sich in Sydney wohl, aber sie vermisst Craig. Darcy geht es gut. Darcy geht es sogar so gut, dass sie auf Rains iPad herumschnüffelt und Fotos von ihr und Craig findet, sodass Rain ihr gestehen muss, dass sie für Darcy ihren Freund verlassen hat. Darcy macht ihr klar, dass sie ohne Rain zurechtkommt bzw. die Distanz eines 24h-Fluges sie nicht auf ewig voneinander trennen wird.

Kapitel 16 – Craig

Seine Mutter und seine Schwestern organisieren eine Intervention und sagen, er soll gefälligst nach Australien ziehen und mit Rain glücklich werden. Sie würden ohne ihn zurechtkommen, egal, was er seinem Vater damals™ versprochen hat.

Kapitel 17 – Rain

Darcy schickt Rain zu einem „Geschäftstreffen“ mit einem „Modeeinkäufer eines Online-Kaufhauses“.

Es ist Craig. Awww.

Kapitel 18 – Craig

Romantisches Aufwachen zu zweit.

Frohes Fest. :D