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glimmerofawesome · 8 months

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#jenni hermoso #mary earps #espwnt #engwnt #spain v england #august 20 2023 #wwc23 #wwc 2023 #69:00

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onabatlle-2 · 8 months

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ona consoling lucy, via femmesfootnews on twitter, 20/8/23

#ona batlle #lucy bronze #espwnt #woso #spain wnt #sefutbol fem #fifa wwc 2023 #spain v england #fcb femeni

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scandiwfc · 8 months

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russo won’t get her world cup final goal 😓

#spain v england

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chelscait · 11 months

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these under-17 girlies, so unlucky😩

#spain v england

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tobsspress · 2 years

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this match has my emotions like 📉📈📉📈📉

#spain v england

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becausewoso · 8 months

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Can we just keep that jacka$$ off the screen, please and thanks?

#wwc 2023 #espwnt #but ugh not that jacka$$#engwnt #england v spain #really it would make for a better viewing experience

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helianskies · 5 months

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Dialogue prompt 14 for romantic engspa please 👀 I’m intrigued to see what you do with this one ❤️

. . . so i went a bit crazy with this one. there's a snippet below, but the full fic is up on ao3 (for the best!) :3c

January 1488

Arthur had been summoned. It was the first time he had been summoned to this land, and no less by a rather mysterious and unexpected letter from someone he had not spoken to in… well, he could not quite remember.

We do not know each other too well, the writing had said, neat, slanted, carefully thought out, but I fear I am in need of services that only you can provide.

Little detail had been given in the letter about what such services would entail. However, Arthur had also been sent some coin to allow him to travel across the waters that isolated him from the rest of Christendom, so, in the end, it was not entirely a bad excuse to have a break away from home. With the War of the Roses recently ended, he…

They had met him at the port.

They had welcomed him as amicably as they were able to, told him little, and then ushered him to the carriage that had been provided. It was only to be a ride of about three hours, they told him—his host had not wanted him to have too arduous a journey on this side of the water. Upon arrival, there would be food, he would be provided somewhere to rest, and so on…

Really, it was only to be a short trip as a whole. Arthur was unsure whether that was meant to reassure him, them, or none of them at all.

Nevertheless, they were not mistaken with their timings. By around six o’clock in the evening, Arthur arrived at a house, stepped out of the carriage, and, at last—

“You got my letter.”

He stood at the main entrance, flanked by a few members of his staff, perhaps, and he graced Arthur with a courteous smile.

“I am glad you were able to come.”

Arthur (who found himself straightening himself up, feeling a bit out of his depth all of a sudden for reasons he could not discern) stepped towards the other personification. “Castile,” he greeted in return with a polite nod, “thank you for asking me here.”

“Come,” the other said, gesturing back towards the countryside house. “You are no doubt in need of some food and rest. Fortunately for you, dinner is almost ready.”

“How kind of you.”

“I believe they call it common courtesy.”

With that, the other patiently waited for Arthur to come along. The bag he had travelled with was to be taken to his room, and in the meantime, the two personifications could have a little talk before sitting down for refreshments.

If Arthur were being honest, this did all feel a bit cloak-and-dagger. A bit too quiet and unusual. But he had travelled all this way, and the other did not have any kind of malintent that Arthur could detect as of yet. Perhaps he was being paranoid. People did like to tell him as much—tell him things like, not everyone wants your head; it isn't yet worth the air they breathe. Yet…

The Castilian (or whatever it was these days he preferred to refer to himself as) guided Arthur through a series of short corridors and turns, until they arrived in a room warmed by reddish wood and dark fabric upholstery. Over a fireplace hung a mirror—Arthur caught his own gaze for a moment and saw his own tiredness—his journey—slowly sinking in—and the other told him to take a seat wherever he liked.

“I hope you have no complaints about wine,” he then said as he headed for a side table, the decanter, and some glasses. “I am afraid that is all I have to offer you, other than water.”

“I… suppose I should not turn the offer down,” Arthur mused, smiling somewhat wryly to himself. “If you have no objections.”

“Before we go too far, perhaps some formalities are wise.”

“Of course.”

“You are, naturally, the Kingdom of England. What is the human name you choose to go by these days?”

“Arthur,” the blond replied without qualm. “Still Arthur.”

“Mmh.” A smile crept onto the other’s face. “How nice to think that some of us will never change.”

It was not difficult to read beneath the words and glimpse an unease, a bitterness—aimed at only one person in that mirror. Arthur could only guess the implications. Though, even if they did not exist, he had been intrigued nonetheless about… whatever changes that the other had or had not gone through.

(The limited things that Arthur knew about the Peninsula were only thanks to his relationship with Portugal, the neighbour of all these other confusing kingdoms. When he came to mind, actually… Arthur could not help but reach for one of his fingers. He wore a reciprocated gift. Perhaps, while he was over here, he could… make a detour before going home. Portugal would no doubt appreciate it. Ah— But he was not home at the moment…)

“What about you, then?” Arthur asked his host, as the other found a seat of his own and got comfortable. “What names should I be using for you?”

“Not ‘Castile’, for one,” the other replied before indulging in a sip of wine—perhaps to help him loosen up. “It is complicated. But you can call me Antonio for now. I think that is for the best.”

And yet, Arthur was still intrigued. “You clearly have not changed that much,” he remarked. “‘Antonio’ is going back to your roots, do you not think?”

Antonio straightened his back and chewed on nothing. “That,” he said, “is for the best, too.”

The temptation to ask him why that was so, of course, was a temptation that Arthur had to resist. It did not feel like the right time, judging by the weight of the air around them. Maybe he would have the privilege of knowing for sure eventually. For now, however—

“Very well, Antonio,” the blond said, moving on. “Am I allowed to ask why I am here? Your letter was a little bit… vague on the matter.”

“Yet you still followed it here,” Antonio returned, his smile returning.

“And you were not surprised to see me,” Arthur concurred, albeit, not entirely happily.

“For a simple reason,” the other claimed.

“Oh?”

“I believed you would come. And so you have.”

[ find the full fic on ao3! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws england #hws spain #engspa #wfsn #so much for writing ficlets with these prompts huh #my fingers slipped. a lot. for two whole days :'v #it was a good excuse to put toni under a microscope i guess #a fair few historical references in this one most of which i dont go into but just as an fyi

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the-ball-is-round · 8 months

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MARY EARPS MY BELOVED THEY BEST BE SELLING YOUR JERSEY NOW