#Speed Darlington

[roomselfcontain2]

A new 2 bedroom upstairs house with federal light 2 story building with modern interior design nice apartment located at Nta estate in port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria.

[viral9ja]

Speed Darlington ‘survives gunshot attack’ while leaving a club in Lagos this morning (video)

Controversial singer, Speed Darlington, has claimed he survived a gunsh0t attack after leaving a club in Victoria Island, Lagos state early this morning January 27. Speed Darlington posted a video of his damaged car. He said he and his driver heard gunshots and a check later showed that the shots were fired at his car, leaving dents on the body of the car. While speaking in the video, Speed…

[gurutrends]

Speed Darlington Lawyer Ready to Meet Bail Conditions Amid Unlawful Detention Claims

The legal team of Nigerian singer Darlington Achakpo, popularly known as Speed Darlington, has announced its readiness to fulfill the bail conditions set by the Federal High Court in Abuja. In a letter addressed to Deputy Inspector General of Police (DIG) Galadanchi of the Force Intelligence Bureau (FIB), the law firm of Deji Adeyanju and Partners confirmed they would be present on January 8,…

[jayessentialsblog]

Speed Darlington admits he doesn't need an 18-room mansion

Nigerian artist Speed Darlington has called off the construction of his eighteen-room mansion, citing competition and resentment towards his sister Chinasa as motivations.In an open statement, Speed Darlington said that he constructed a sizable mansion on his property in order to avoid any possible ownership conflicts since he thought his sister might take it.Speed Darlington, a performer, saw…

[sharppaddy]

London Jay - Olu (Work) (Ft. Speed Darlington)

New Post has been published on https://kng.ng/music/london-jay-olu-work-ft-speed-darlington/

London Jay - Olu (Work) (Ft. Speed Darlington)

London Jay, has come out with a new jam called “Olu (Work).”, Featuring Speed Darlington, This song’s vibe is perfect for any Music enthusiast. . Get London Jay Olu (Work): High-Quality MP3 Download Now The track offers a unique sound that’s captivating. Add this song to your collection and enjoy it on repeat. Listen and enjoy!

#Tumblr #Art #Photography #Inspiration #Aesthetic #Fashion #Music #Writing #Fandom #Quotes

[tracknews1]

Alleged defamation: Speed Darlington files N300 million suit against IGP over alleged unlawful detention

Nigerian rapper Darlington Okoye, better known as Speed Darlington, has filed a N300million fundamental rights enforcement suit against the Inspector-General of Police, Kayode Egbetokun, over his alleged unlawful detention. The Federal High Court in Abuja set January 13 for the hearing of Speed Darlington’s case, following a request from his lawyer, Abubakar Marshal, for an adjournment. According…

[roomselfcontain2]

This is 2 bedroom Duplex house design only 2 flats in the compound close to road Gated estate by ozuoba by Rumuoparali area of port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria.

[viral9ja]

JUST IN: Speed Darlington lawyer Stan Alike has announced that his firm is no longer representing Speed Darlington

JUST IN: Speed Darlington lawyer Stan Alike has announced that his firm is no longer representing Speed Darlington   Fans Reactions : Lol I guess it’s safe to say that even dude’s lawyers have realized how much of a liability he is.   Let’s see how the “everybody” wey “dey (your) side” online gets you out of the mess this time around that they’re pushing you right back into yet again.   “He…

[rheya28]

Darlington Castle [ Wedding Venue ] ♥ The Sims 4: Build // CC

Welcome to Darlington Castle, a beautiful wedding venue located on the Island of Windenburg. This one of a kind venue is known for not only its iconic architecture and stunning views but also for its timeless elegance and romantic atmosphere, making a popular destination to hold weddings and other occasions.  Whether you’re planning an intimate ceremony or a grand celebration, Darlington Castle is the perfect setting for your sims dream wedding.

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

Programming includes an indoor and outdoor ceremonial space, an indoor and outdoor reception hall, suites for both the bride's and the groom's bridal party. Additionally, this venue also include a kitchen and multiple private bedrooms for the newly weds and their wedding entourage.

NOTE: The exterior of this venue was based on Villa Erba

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽Lot Details

Lot Name: Darlington Castle Lot type: Wedding Venue Lot size: 64x64 Location: Windenburg Island

➽ MODS:

TOOL MOD by TwistedMexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make life a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama.

Joyceisfox: Simple Live (Bathroom, Blooming plant) S- Imagination: Rutland Kitchen Felixandre: Colonial (all), Chateau (all), Fayun, Berlin pt (1), Florence (all), Georgian, Gothic Revival, Grove (all), Kyoto pt (2), London exterior & interior, Paris (all), Jardane, Shop the look, SOHO, Tudor Sooky: Horizontal oil Painting (Landscape, Still life), Vertical oil paintings (landscape, still life, portrait) Awingedllama: Nostaligia Living Felixandre x Harrie: Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Orjanic (all) Bbygyal123: Minimal Prints Charlypancakes: Chalk, Lavish, Miscellanea, Smoll, Telly Harrie: Heritage, Brownstone Collection, Brutalist, Coastal (all), Shop the look 2, Spoons Madame Ria: Back to basic floor Myshunosun: Midsummer Eve Arsbotanica: Peonies bouquet Pierisim: Auntie Vera, Coldbrew (all), Domain du clos (all), MCM pt (2)(3), Oak house (all), Winter garden pt (1), Woodland ranch (all) Charlypancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises Simplistic: Magnolia Cottage Rugs, Rug Holland Sixam: Stylistwood Nursery Simten: Playable Harp (mod) thecluttercat: Sunnysundae pt (3), Dandy Diary Syboulette: Nothing to wear Taurus Design: Eliza walk in closet Other CC Cowbuild: Family Kitchen (sink flowers only), Blooming Garden cafe (Hanging wisteria only) [ I think these are locked behind paywall, but you dont really need to download as they are not too important.

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[wingedshadowfan]

the 'breaking expensive glassware' scene in ninth house is so important for darlington's character (it's essentially an extension of 'the moths' scene)

first of all. he's a man of knowledge and preparedness. he believes he knows all there is to know and that makes him prepared for it. alex easily challenges that belief, breaks his rules.

“It wasn’t the ritual.” “Was it the blood?” “No. One of them grabbed me. You didn’t say that was going to happen. I—” Darlington couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re saying one of them touched you?” “More than one. I—” “That isn’t possible. I mean …” He set down his wine, ran his hands through his hair. “Rarely. So rarely. Sometimes in the presence of blood or if the spirit is particularly moved. That’s why true hauntings are so rare.” Her voice was hard, distant. “It’s possible.” Maybe. Unless she was lying.

his very obvious disbelief and distrust toward her is understandable - not only is what she's saying so incredibly unlikely, but he's also read her file. he has some surface level knowledge of her life and the state she was in when sandow recruited her. she's an uneducated, untrained, unprepared, a juvenile, an addict with no prospects (he never stops to consider how she got to that point, deems it irrelevant) who somehow wound up the only survivor at a murder scene. what incentive does he have to trust her?

His Dante, the girl he would gift with the keys to a secret world, was a criminal, a drug user, a dropout who cared about none of the things he did.

she was fortunate enough to be born with what he considers a gift - the ability to see grays - something lethe took notice of and rewarded generously. that's the only reason she's here. she has no other redeeming qualities to him, unlike each of the thousands of lethe house candidates he was supposed to review and pick from, that opportunity, that honor ripped away from him. this would've never happened, if not for her.

“You need to be ready next time. You weren’t prepared—” “And whose fault is that?” Darlington sat up straighter. “I beg your pardon? I gave you two weeks to get up to speed. I sent you specific passages to read to keep it manageable.”

she doesn't mean him in particular, but he predictably misunderstands (and i'll explain why). he's confident he did the right thing, that he did enough. he readily gave her what was most dear to him in a silver platter - his knowledge, the key to this world of mystery. partially he did it for lethe, partially he did it because he felt for her (referencing he moth scene here). he doesn't take lightly to being accused of being wrong, of having done the wrong thing. especially by a seemingly ungrateful newcomer throwing a temper tantrum after fucking up and possibly even lying about why.

“And what about all of the years before that?” Alex stood and shoved her chair back. She paced into the breakfast room, her black hair reflecting the lamplight, energy sparking off her. The house gave a warning groan. She wasn’t sad or ashamed or worried. She was mad. “Where were you?” she demanded. “All you wise men of Lethe with your spells and your chalk and your books? Where were you when the dead were following me home? When they were barging into my classrooms? My bedroom? My damn bathtub? Sandow said you had been tracking me for years, since I was a kid. One of you couldn’t have told me how to get rid of them? That all it would take was a few magic words to send them away?”

“They’re harmless. It’s only the rituals that—”

Alex grabbed Darlington’s glass and threw it hard against the wall, sending glass and red wine flying. “They are not harmless. You talk as if you know, like you’re some kind of expert.” She struck her hands against the table, leaning toward him. “You have no idea what they can do.”

“Are you done or would you like another glass to break?”

his distrust also very reasonably drives her mad. she's sick of not being believed, not being trusted her whole life - even here at lethe, where magic is a widely accepted fact, people like him, who've never had to live a day in her life, with her ability, still think they know better. she's supposed to be safe, understood, helped here. she isn't. she's only being used for lethe's agenda. and darlington? he perpetuates that fact. he's her mentor, for fuck's sake. she'd barely began to trust him when he showed her magic, when he taught her to protect herself. she must've misjudged him. he did all that for lethe, not for her, just like how he covered up the almost butchered ritual from scroll and key.

“Why didn’t you help me?” said Alex, her voice nearly a growl.

“I did. You were about to be buried under a sea of Grays, if you recall.”

“Not you.” Alex waved her arm, indicating the house. “Sandow. Lethe. Someone.” She covered her face with her hands. “Take courage. No one is immortal. Do you know what it would have meant to me to know those words when I was a kid? It would have taken so little to change everything. But no one bothered. Not until I could be useful to you.”

this is why he misunderstands. she doesn't challenge him directly, she attacks lethe, but he's taken it upon himself to assert lethe's authority, to protect its credibility and integrity from such accusations. he's embodied lethe. it's a part of who he is now. he considers himself an extension of it, its golden boy, its gentleman. so this criticism, he takes personally. but it's not about him.

Darlington did not like to think he had behaved badly. He did not like to think that Lethe had behaved badly. We are the shepherds. And yet they’d left Alex to face the wolves. She was right. They hadn’t cared. She’d been someone for Lethe to study and observe from afar.

He’d told himself he was giving her a chance, being fair to this girl who had washed up on his shore. But he’d let himself think of her as someone who had made all of the wrong choices and stumbled down the wrong path. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was being chased.

he's not a fool. he pieces it all together. he realizes she's right, she isn't lying. his blind trust in lethe prevented him from seeing it all before. her records start making sense. her anger now and her fear earlier start making sense. but that doesn't mean he's equipped to help her, to comfort her, to deal with the weight of what it all means. i imagine her sudden depth and pain must've scared him. he was raised by his grandpa who thought the solution to everything was alcohol, ice and manners. only thing darlington seems to have added to that list is breaking things. and alex seems to already be well versed in that.

After a long moment, he said, “Would it help to break something else?” She was breathing hard. “Maybe.” Darlington rose and opened a cupboard, then another, and another, revealing shelf after shelf of Lenox, Waterford, Limoges—glassware, plates, pitchers, platters, butter dishes, gravy boats, thousands of dollars’ worth of crystal and china. He took down a glass, filled it with wine, and handed it to Alex. “Where would you like to start?”

[widefuturesss]

Burna boy rlly said he isn’t FELA, and that he would rather kill u than die for u… this same man has Speed Darlington currently in prison for ‘defamation of character’ , and even with an official court ordered bail that has been granted he still can’t get out!! Why? because small burna boy got big money and can buy out Justice… as they always do, prison in Nigeria is for those that cannot afford to be free. We saw what went down with Bobriskyy. Watch out for how the African Giant will soon fall like Goliath… Everyday for the thief, one day for the owner!!!!! Afrobeats what have u turned to? These men r out here bragging and arguing over wealth & extravagance, Nigeria jaga jaga fr

[weirdowithaquill]

What is the 'Engine Rulebook' and where did it come from?:

So, this really early era of railways was a bit insane, and I am not quite well-versed enough to make a case-study out of everything - but like with my Big 4 scrap post, this is more about trends than singular examples - though some do appear.

The 'Engine Rulebook' is basically the set of rules that every engine ever is taught when built. It's a series of important rules, customs and doctrine used by managers to keep engines in line. Yes, I will use a little business-management theory in here, because early management styles have a major effect. And every railway has its own rulebook that may have differences. But there are a few key things in the 'Engine Rulebook' that I see being universal:

1: The company comes first. This is basically the company ensuring loyalty by indoctrinating the engine to see its railway company as the most important aspect of their life. In the Railway Series, Donald and Douglas have very strong ties back to Scotland and the Caledonian railway - which is why they enjoy blue so much. It's the Caledonian Railway colour! And then there's Duck - who literally continues to wear his GWR colours even after joining the NWR. He's deeply connected to the GWR because of this loyalty taught to him.

2: Railway rules. This includes signalling, signage, speed limits, whistles and their uses, headcodes, flags and every other piece of railway rules. They are read the rulebook, and learn everything in it. It's vital! Percy is an industrial engine who is never taught this rulebook - because industries don't have many engines and often pilfer bits from a bigger company's - and thus Percy doesn't know much about the rules of being on a railway when he arrives on Sodor.

3: Etiquette (based on duty). Now, I don't mean bowing or curtseying or the proper fork for fish - I mean the ins and outs of the duty the engine will be expected to complete. Passenger engines learn how to handle coaches and speak politely to passengers, freight engines learn how to handle trucks and look after different cargos, shunting engines learn a new set of rules for the yards - this sort of thing. Gordon struggles with trucks because he was never taught how to handle them.

4: The managers are always right. Touched on this in a reblog of this @mean-scarlet-deceiver ramble, but its basically that the engines are taught that their managers are right in all contexts (unless breaking one of the above rules) and need to be respected and have all directions followed. The manager says to shunt - you go and shunt. They say to go get scrapped - and a good engine listens without hesitation. Doesn't work out in real life all the time - see Oliver, or the Big Engines' strike - but it definitely keeps most engines in line.

So we have these four core rules - but where did they come from? Well...

Regency Era Railways:

Straight off the bat - this is the era where every railway is figuring itself out. The L&MR was where everything was forged in fire - before it, the only railways that existed were isolated plateways in mines and the Stockton & Darlington Railway. None of these were anywhere near as complex as the L&MR, which is really the first railway 'system' in the way we might understand today. It's also where the first sentient engines begin to make a proper appearance and have an effect on people. Before, they were hidden in mines, if they existed at all - but now the public can see them!

Like, imagine this rocks up to collect you in an era when the most advanced method of transport is literally a horse. And it has a face. Remember, in this period people though that if they went over a certain speed or through a tunnel they would explode - so now the thing that might just kill them has a face?!

Managers would very quickly begin implementing ways to soothe their passengers. One way of doing that would be to dehumanise the engines - I can see many early engines being given basically no education because they are both seen as being 'working class' and because they are machines. When Rocket first ran, there were no public schools.

In this era, engines didn't know much, and they were isolated on their little systems. Yard managers are one of the few people with authority that these engines meet on a regular basis, and they use this to their advantage and cultivate this idea that the engines are entirely subservient to them. This is where that manager loyalty begins to become apparent - just not quite in its modern form.

The only education an engine would get is how to be loyal. Why should they learn signals, or passenger etiquette, or how to read? That is a driver or a guard's job. And so this really early era is characterised by dehumanisation and a lot of public-relations officers doing their best to downgrade the sentience of the engines. It's a lot of "yes they have a face, no they don't have intelligence, don't worry". This does extend into the Victorian era, as seen in Very Old Engines, as Skarloey arrives on Sodor with some principles taught at the workshop, only to be met with "you don't have rights, do your job." Which he naturally rebels at and then gets covered in a tarp for his troubles.

Of course, the Regency Era ends very soon into railway history, and just in time for a major game-changer.

The Victorian Era:

1838 is the year the first GWR train runs, and this railway in the South-west of England will have a huge impact on all railways that come after. First, the entire board of directors are very elitist and influential in parliament. This is a railway that needs to live up to its owners.

It is the GWR, not the L&MR, that writes the first book on engine learning. It's also the GWR, and not any other railway in the UK, that first develops a proper corporate culture for its engines that they actually like. The GWR does this by actually treating the engines like they have sentience.

Engines like Iron Duke are introduced to the 'Great Western Way' - this being the rulebook that Brunel and Gooch develop to best serve their wealthy owners. These engines are taught to read, understand the rules of the railway, passenger etiquette - which by now can be taught because there's less fumbling around blindly - and perhaps most importantly: they are taught a very proud mindset. The railway is the most important aspect of their lives, and they are to serve it to the best of their ability. All four of the rules appear in their first form here, except that the etiquette is not entirely based on duty, and instead all engines are taught all jobs - which horrified much of the rest of the railway companies.

But while this is going on on the GWR, the rest of the country's railways were trying to survive a crisis. Railway Mania swept Britain, and hundreds of engines and built (and destroyed) by the week. One thousand bills for new railways were submitted to parliament during this period, and while not all were built - it certainly had an impact. The LNWR was formed during this period, chunks of the Midland Railway, NER, GNR, GCR, Caledonian and basically every other major railway were all constructed in this time frame - but that didn't mean a drastic improvement in how the engines were treated in this area. Many North-western railways were influenced by the thinking from the L&MR, leading to entire fleets of early engines having zero clue how to act or even speak in some cases. When the bubble collapsed, many engines were scrapped - and this is where the other extremely important pillar stone of railway doctrine was introduced: engines are expendable, and should not want to hinder a company. The fourth rule is set into stone here, and goes unchanged and practically unchallenged all the way into the modern era.

This here, the end of steam in Britain, is able to happen because of principles introduced during Railway Mania. British Railways uses this rulebook and the laws that most likely surround it by this point to justify their actions, and also because thanks to this rulebook very few engines have the vague notion or idea to protest. Why would they, it goes against the rules!

The eradication of steam is almost directly caused by the era of Railway Mania and the principles managers introduced in the era to protect their profit margins. Without that doctrine, engines would have had a lot more rights and a lot more ability to protest being scrapped.

In other words, the 1840's was when scrapping began to appear properly, as well as the explosions, derailments and every other crash from the previous generation. Engines became unfeeling in this era - in the north at least. The GWR escaped this by being... well, not an economic bubble.

However, as the British Isles emerges from Railway Mania, two very strong railways vie for influence: the LNWR and the GWR. The LNWR has that traditional L&MR mindset - and it leads to a huge problem. The engines begin to learn how to speak from their crews, and moreover they question why their GWR counterparts are treated so much better. The LNWR also suffers from a number of easily preventable accidents caused by the engine having zero clue what to do.

Some railways land between the two, and it was the GNR that ended up formulating the four rules in their next evolution: engines were only taught their jobs. This was the GNR compromise with their board members. The board wanted a GWR approach, however the actual managers on the ground rebelled, worrying this would lead to the engines working together to demand fairer treatment. The Communist Manifesto was in major circulation at the time, and none of these companies wanted their engines getting any ideas. Instead, they implemented something of a class system, with express engines at the top and shunters at the bottom.

In the TVS, Emily is extremely abrasive towards Thomas (Seasons 8-12), and it may just have to do with the way she was raised, seeing shunters as the lowest form of engine. Gordon certainly did!

These three very distinct practices all melded and fused together on the Midland Railway - which of course ran right in between them all. The Midland Railway wrote the third proper rulebook in 1859, roughly twenty years after the GWR wrote its.

The Midland Railway's rulebook took the LNWR idea that engines needed to be taught to accept death, the GNR idea of a class system and the GWR importance of company loyalty and railway-rule-knowledge and fused them together, being able to create the rulebook that most British railways would use by 1890. The major exception to this was of course the Great Western, which slowly evolved its rulebook to use the LNWR ideas of engines being subservient to their managers while retaining the classless form of etiquette the engines were taught. The GNR would also hold out on some ideas from the GWR until it was amalgamated into the LNER, due to rising fears of Communism by the board.

Many smaller railways, such as the Furness Railway or the Highland Railway in Scotland, would use the GWR style, due to the smaller size of the workforce, and thus the potential necessity for engines to complete duties they were trained for.

Duck fits into his role at Tidmouth with such ease because he knows the theory behind every express train, every freight train, every style of shunting and branchline service. He doesn't need them, but the GWR engines were taught this just in case. Duck is excellent at his job, but he won't take any flak from the other engines because his GWR ideology makes him see them all as equal. This is of course part of the Great Western Way as explained in this post.

In direct contrast, Gordon has zero clue how to pull a freight train, and stalls on the hill because he physically doesn't know what to do.

And this brings me quite neatly to Sir Topham Hatt I. See, this is a GWR man who runs a railway that is very heavily influenced by the Midland Railway rulebook ideology. Edward knows how to do multiple tasks because the Furness Railway used GWR practice (maybe that's why he likes Edward?) while none of the other engines do. Sir Topham Hatt's management style using GWR practice is so confusing to them. Why is James - who is mixed-traffic at best - pulling the express? Why is Gordon pulling freight? Why are the big engines shunting?!

And then we have Henry. Sir Topham and Henry have such a rocky relationship, and it in many ways comes from the fact that Henry had none of the formal education that I just discussed. He's a privately-built engine from stolen plans sold cheap. He doesn't actually know the etiquette of a passenger train - no wonder he stops when he doesn't like the weather! He doesn't physically know better, and so he's acting on his first instincts. This clashes so badly with the GWR style which places etiquette almost above everything else. Hatt reacts so badly and outright insanely to this because to him, Henry is actively and deliberately breaking every rule in the book because of his paint? And Henry doesn't have a clue. Look at how horrified he is!

And don't get me wrong, this is extremely unethical and very stupid, but it has a precedence in miscommunication, differing ideologies and Henry's foolishness.

This was another massive ramble with a lot of insanity, but I do enjoy writing these. Helps organise my mind! As usual, none of the above pictures belong to me, and feel free to chuck in a comment with your opinion!

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 12. Giver Of Gifts [D2]

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Countryside resort near Darlington

Continuation of: RICKMAS2022 prompts 14. Icy roads & 15. Frosty Glass and RICKMAS2023 Prompt 11. Imperfect Holiday

A/N: Hi darlings! I know I’m a day late, well, like 11 hours late, but my daughter needed me a little extra yesterday (nothing bad, she was just very cuddly and wanting to be literally on me) so when I got har to sleep I was so exhausted I couldn’t finish the fic. It’s a long one 😂 But here it is! And I’ll get today’s fic up later as well, don’t worry! I feel super creative and rested today so I’m going at full speed! 😍👏 But, this is the last fic of Hans and Anna-Louise. It’s been one of the hardest serial fics I’ve ever written, it takes so much with the language use and all that but I have had such a good time writing for these two! I really hope you’ll enjoy this one and how it all turns out in the end 🥰❤

Tags/TW’s: Light One Bed Trope, Kissing, Cudlding, Hugging, Being Left Behind, Secret Identity, Secrets, Self-Doubt, Finding One's Own Value, Gift Giving, Being Spoiled/Cared For, Criminality, Unlawful Actions, Falling In Love, Confessions Of Feelings, Indicates Hazardous Situations, Second Hand Revealing Of Secrets, Worrying, Charity, Fluff, Angst, H/C, Reassurance

Word Count: 6.7k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Our lips parted, my first ever good kiss. Fabulous, wonderful, perfect kiss. And it was with him, the man who not only saved my life and held impromptu therapy sessions over muffins but who also saw me and heard me — a man who I deeply felt cared for me, truly. To kiss him was… a trip. A real trip of every sensation my body was able to feel and no sooner had it ended than I wished to do it again.

“Schnuki, don’t doubt my want of you, or how special I think you are,” he whispered, it came out thick and heavy in his dark rumble of a voice. “I will spoil you in any and all ways I see fit, understand me?” he continued. “I— You are something else, Hans…” He chuckled at that and kissed my forehead in that gentle manner of his tightly groomed beard gentle but firm against my skin. That kiss only felt even sweeter now that I knew how urgently and intensely he could kiss my lips.

“Tell me you understand,” he urged. “I-, I think I understand. It’s difficult for me, I can’t really understand why me, and how it became me, but I’m bloody happy about it either way, is that alright?” I asked, my cheeks burning once more, perhaps I’ll evolve second-degree burns with this amount of blushing? Or I’ll need to chug water, all this warmth will leave me dehydrated. “That’s alright, I’ll make you understand in due time.”

There was a knock at the door and Hans slid out of my grasp. “Go put those on,” he said, pointing to the pyjama set of silk still on the bed. I nodded and grabbed them, heading to the bathroom just as he opened the door and I heard the bell boy announce that he was room service.

When I came back, dressed in the fabulous silk that made me feel wrapped in a cloud, Hans sat on the bed with a tray atop the covers with two covered plates, two glasses of orange juice, and a plump-looking blueberry muffin. “Is that for me?” I asked, pointing to the treat. “Yes, thought you could see if this fancy place compares to that little café.” I smiled at him and he patted the bed beside him, I carefully sat down cross-legged and he lifted off the silvery coverings that kept the food warm.

The smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes wafted up my nose — my stomach promptly growled with desperation to have the goodies. “S-sorry…” “My sweet treat, never apologise for any bodily functions with me. If you’re hungry, I’ll give you food. If you’re cold, I’ll offer my coat. If you need a shower, I’ll rent an entire house for one if needed.” I gaped at him while he smiled cheekily at me, it was nearly a smirk yet not quite. “Ooo-kay,” I said, prolonging the word far more than necessary, but what was I to say to that?

Hans pushed a fork toward me. “Eat, then we sleep.” I didn’t hesitate. Is tarted in on the bacon and eggs, cutting the long pieces of meat and mixing it with the eggs before topping it with a healthy dose of salt and shoving it into my mouth. The flavour burst atop my tongue and I groaned in appreciation. “Best, eggs and bacon, ever, had,” I mumbled as I chewed. “So good.” “Glad to hear it,” he said and started in on his pancakes, his knife and fork moving with steady precision while mine flew in an uncoordinated manner all over the plate.

When the plates were cleared I chugged the juice. I was full, but that muffin looked bloody tempting and I didn’t want to be ungrateful so I grabbed it and took a huge bite out of it. It was good, not as good as the ones at home but moist and flavourful. “Good?” Hans asked and I nodded. “Really good.” I took another bite while Hans cleared away the tray from the bed. “But not quite as good?” How did he know? I never even really ate the muffin last time, did I? No, no I don’t think I did. I was too wrapped up in him and how he held my hand and talked about how I was being treated, I mean, it’s not Ferdinand’s fault, but I think he was madder at Dad and Sis, then again I could be wrong. I’m often wrong, I guess, I never thought Mum would leave, or that Martha would become a dear friend, least of all I’d skip town with a rich German—

“Schnuki?” “Huh? Hmm? Yeah?” Hans smiled gently at me, stroking back a strand of hair by my cheek and hooking it behind my ear. “Lost in thought?” he asked. “Oh, umh, suppose so,” I said. “How did you know about the muffin?” “That it’s not as good?” I nodded. “It’s all over your face, little treat.” “What?” “You talk quite a bit, and you think even more I believe, but your face says everything one needs really. Just have to look,” he said and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Sorry…” I mumbled, looking down at my half-finished muffin while fiddling with the striped paper around it. “Don’t be, I quite like how open you are, and willing to share. Not a common thing these days, you know. You’re a rarity.” I scoffed. “That’s for sure. Imagine if everyone blabbers like me? Gosh, blimey, the world would be a headache-inducing verbal madhouse,” I chuckled, yet it made me sad, to be honest. “I’m not talking of others, just you,” Hans said and leaned over to kiss my temple. “Now, time to sleep.”

He went around the room, turning off lights and making sure all doors were locked before he pulled all the curtains while I got comfy in the giant bed — honestly, it was the softest and most comfortable bed I’d ever laid in. Then I bolted upright as the last light went out. There’s only one, just one, he’ll sleep next to me, oh gosh, he’s going to be next to me!

The bed dipped and Hans indeed slipped in under the cover - the single cover that was made for two people. “Schnuki? Aren’t you lying down?” “Oh, umh, yeah, yeah sure am,” I stuttered out and slowly sank down. “I won’t bite,” he whispered right beside me. “Come here.” He pulled me in, his arms securely wrapped around me while my heart galloped in my chest. I’d never shared a bed with anyone, and sharing a bed with Hans was an experience that had me tingly all over.

“My sweet treat,” he hummed and tugged me flush against his front, spooning me. “H-Hans,” I whispered and he hummed a sound of contentment. “I’ve never… Never shared a bed without any bloke,” I continued and he squeezed me even tighter. “What a lucky bloke I am then.” I don’t know, I think maybe I’m the lucky one. Feels like it, feels like I’m getting some Christmas miracle. A man being a miracle, bloody hell that’s a thing I never thought I’d think.

***

I’d fallen asleep way too fast in his arms. I slept all through the night and when morning came I woke up alone. The bed and room were empty. I did what any sane person would, I buried my smiling face in the pillow and kicked my legs under the cover with a giggle erupting from me. Hans, sweet Hans, and he’s with me! Me! Me? Like, what? I swear if I wake up in some snow mound after having slipped and hit my head or whatever nonsense I’ll go straight to whoever runs this show and strangle them.

The door opened, and faint footsteps echoed through the room. Hans probably thought I was asleep still. “Hans?” I asked, peeking out from under the cover, turning my head to not be buried in the pillow. “Scnuki, you’re awake, good,” he said and a second later the curtains were drawn away from the window and balcony door. “Breakfast will be here any minute.” “We really having it out there? It looks bloody cold,” I said while half sitting up. “You’ll be warm with blankets, and I ordered extra coffee. Black.” “Coffee, god, yes please,” I moaned and dragged myself out of bed to go freshen up in the bathroom.

I rummaged around my bag first though, looking for some fresh clothes to wear. “On the chair,” Hans said while pulling away the rest of the curtains while I looked over my shoulder. There were several bags on the chair, so I scurried over only to freeze as I looked into them. Clothes, shoes, gloves, a purse, and all gorgeous and expensive looking if my eyes served me right.

I grabbed a thick white jumper, knitted with little pearls added in a snowfall pattern from the shoulders and over the chest. “Hans-, Hans this is too much, way too much, and expensive. Are you completely bonkers? Gone mad with a Christmas flu or something?” He only chuckled and walked up to me. “You deserve pretty things, nice clothes, warm clothes,” he said and gave my shoulders a squeeze while I looked at the jumper in my hands. It was way, way, way too much.

“Now, get dressed, and we’ll have breakfast.” “But I can’t wear—” “Schnuki, accept my gifts for you.” I looked up at him, his eyes earnest and his features soft as he asked me to simply allow him to spoil me. I’d never been spoiled, or taken cared of, or even cared for . “In silks…” I muttered, remembering his words from yesterday about wanting to come home to me dressed in silk and finery.

I did as he asked, taking the jumper, some really pretty white jeans with a matching belt of cream and gold before nabbing some new underwear and socks as well. I stopped in the bathroom, before closing the door. “How do you know my sizes?” I asked, turning to look at the cheekily smirking man. “I just looked at you,” he said. “You are very easy to look at, my little treat.” I must have blushed scarlet, my skin was on fire once more and a knock at the door saved me from making a fool out of myself.

I felt like a tenner in my new clothes, the full-length mirror in the bathroom gave me the full view and everything fit perfectly, hugging my somewhat straight shape and perfectly complimenting my skin and hair. I’d done it in a side braid to keep it away and not hide the sparkling pearls at the top of the jumper. I didn’t have any make-up, but I never used much more than some powder and mascara anyway.

Hans had set up our breakfast on the balcony when I left the bathroom. He was on the phone again, this time speaking in German and I couldn’t understand a word of it. His voice was perfection in German though, the harsh language only complimenting his deep voice further. Perhaps I should learn German too? Would be neat, not that I need more languages to talk in but it’s nifty to know more than one language.

I sat down on one of the chairs covered in a thick fur and dragged two of the blankets over my legs. “Coat,” Hans said as I was getting comfortable and I looked up. He was indeed looking at me and then nodded toward the room. I grumbled a bit but got up to fetch my jacket, it wouldn’t make much of a difference but it was cold outside.

I stood stock still in the middle of the room. By the door, where his coat had hung before, was a beautiful winter coat. It was wine red with black fur along all hems and a black belt with a golden buckle around the middle. It looked as expensive as his and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how he’d managed to get me so many things in a mere few hours — and we had both been asleep. The amount of money he’d spent had my stomach twisting, but it wasn’t all bad. There was a warmth and joy there too, that I was worth something to him meant the world to me. Even if he showed his care in monetary ways far from my own reality I wasn’t going to just dismiss his chosen way of showing he cared.

I grabbed the coat and put it on while walking back to the balcony. It, too, fit perfectly of course and the lining on the inside was silky smooth and I felt toasty in it — and pretty too. Hans was still on his call but he spun his finger around, asking me to twirl and with another blush across my cheeks I did as he asked. It was really the least I could do. His smile made me smile even wider while I mouthed “thank you”. He nodded and said something harshly in German into the phone while I got back to my chair.

“Take care of it, we have four minutes, that’s it,” he finished in English and snapped the phone shut. “I like when you talk in German,” I blurted out while reaching for my coffee cup. “Is that so?” I nodded. “How come?” he continued. “Sounds very brazen and, I dunno, large? Like, the words sound large, and it suits your voice. Your voice is really good, you know. I like it a lot, I mean, it’s not a common voice, but it’s perfect for you, and I like it,” I blabbered while fidgeting with the blanket with my free hand. “I’m glad to hear it.” “But, what do you have four minutes to do? I heard you say that yesterday too,” I continued without a break and the look on Hans' face stopped my flow of words.

He sat down, adjusting his coat and grabbing his coffee. “How much did you hear yesterday?” he asked, almost too calmly. “Oh, not much, sorry, was it banking stuff I shouldn’t know about? Like about the stock market and stuff? I heard you mention stocks and time stuff, and you look like a banker so I just assumed,” I said, worry blooming in my gut I had done something he would be upset with me over. But he smiled at me, instantly taking away the worry. “It’s alright. Don’t fret,” he said and sipped his coffee. “I’ll tell you in due time, not now though. Now, it’s time to get some food in you.” And feed me he did. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, little cucumber sandwiches, and different cheeses on lightly toasted bread along with some fruits and juice. I ended up absolutely stuffed.

***

I turned off the shower, after having walked about the grounds most of the day I’d felt a need to clean up when we returned to the room after a lovely dinner down at the main restaurant of the country resort. It had been a really wonderful day and Hans hadn’t asked me to shut up once, he actually seemed to enjoy my blabbering. But I didn’t blabber as much with him, there was no need as he listened when I chatted. The man had patience, I’d give him that.

He was on his phone again, but lying on the bed this time while talking in German. He sounded very precise, as if he were giving instructions or something when I came out dressed in my silky pyjama set. He looked at me with a sweet smile before lifting the cover so I could have it over my legs as I sat cross-legged beside him. His hand landed atop my thigh, his finger stroking circles on the inside of it and I felt as if I would go mad with having his hand there.

He barked something into the phone before slamming it shut, tossing it to the foot of the bed. “Idiots,” he muttered before falling back on the pillow. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” he kept going. “Hey, I know I’m not the brightest star in the sky but that’s a bit mean,” I said, a chuckle to my voice. “Not you, schnuki. Never you,” he murmured without looking at me, keeping his eyes closed while he let out a deep sigh.

I scooted down, laying on my side to watch his beautiful profile. Without thinking I reached up and began stroking the tips of my fingers through his lush beard. He hummed and seemed to relax. But that only lasted a few seconds. “I have to leave,” he said. “Leave?” I asked, alarms blaring in my head like bloody hounds after a fox. “For a few days, I would ask you to come with but the situation requires my undivided attention and you steal it most of the time,” he chuckled, as if he’d made some smart remark. “What do you want me to do?” I asked, fearing and wanting the answer. “Stay here, enjoy every luxury, and wait for me.” “In silk?” I teased and he finally looked up at me, a cheeky smile across his thin lips framed by that gorgeous beard I’d a second ago been touching.

He had me on my back a second later, twisting us so he lay between my legs with the cover between our bodies while he kissed me most deeply. Blimey, he really was a fantastic kisser, and every inch of me felt all tingly. I was turning into the giddy schoolgirl stereotype with him, and it felt good to be able to just relax and be.

“Will you wait for me?” he asked against my lips, only half breaking the kiss. “I’ll always wait for you. I don’t think I’m completely daft by thinking there’s something very special between us?” “My sweet treat,” he whispered, pecking my lips once. “You have no idea how special you are to me. One day, perhaps you’ll see, but until then I’ll do everything in my power to show you.” “Bloody hell,” I murmured. “You’re making it impossible not to fall for you, Hans.” “Good,” he said with a smile. “So you’ll wait here for me?” “Yeah, sure, I’ll wait right here, lavishing in silks and eating the best bacon and eggs.” He laughed at that, a deep and throaty sound I couldn’t ever get enough of. To think, all this became possible ‘cus some bloke knocked me over on the sidewalk, it really is quite the hallmark movie setup. Being the main character for once isn’t so bad.

Hans cuddled me for another hour while he asked how I used to celebrate Christmas, but that conversation took a nose-dive and he ended up pissed at how my family had treated me, so, we switched to talking about our favourite things instead. It was too easy talking with him, just being with him, and I didn’t have to wonder if I’d have to repeat myself, he always listened and remembered.

When he was dressing to leave I felt a knot grow in my stomach. There was still so much I didn’t know about him, where he was going and what he was doing were two of those things. But I didn’t ask, it felt like he didn’t want to share that with me yet. And, if he was a banker, perhaps there were some confidentiality issues with him sharing that stuff with me.

“You’ll be back, right?” “I’ll always come back for you, schnuki.” He kissed my forehead after that, stroked my cheek, and left while I remained staring at the door for a long moment. It felt so empty with him gone but he’d left me a little gift on the bedside table he’d instructed me to open once he’d left.

So, once I got out of my daze, I bolted over and grabbed it. I was as curious as a cat and ripped open the envelope only to find a little note and a wad of cash. Like, a whole wad of it. “Spend it all before I return, I dare you, my sweat treat. Oh, Hans, you’re too bloody much!” I laughed while checking just how much I was supposed to spend, I damn near keeled over at the full two grand he’d left behind. How am I supposed to spend two grand in just a couple of days? Can I give it away as tips? I mean, surely servants don’t earn that much and it’s Christmas time too. Would that count as spending it though?

I went to bed wondering where he was going, and what to do with the money he’d left for me, and how rich the man I was falling in love with really was. Thinking of all the gifts, where he had us staying, and now the cash he’d left behind, golly, it nearly made me uncomfortable to think of. I was a nobody, from a nowhere town, with a less-than-desirable place in life. How was I supposed to be in his life, and be what he wanted and needed? Was I enough for him at the end of it all? I still wasn’t quite sure why he liked me so much, then again, I knew very little of him too yet I was sure he was the one for me — so, was it really so silly to think he felt the same?

***

I’d given half of the money away. I just couldn’t spend it on myself. The concierge had been super helpful in ordering a silly-expensive coat for Hans that I used 800 of the 2,000 on and then I’d used about 200 buying some extra room service, and then some 1,000 as tips for the workers and a Secret Santa fund for the children at the Darlington Hospital which the resort had a little tin for with an information pamphlet about it all.

I also ended up buying a Christmas card from the reception that I sent off to Martha, letting her know I’d left and was doing well with the German gentleman she liked so much. I had reminded her to put her teeth in while eating and not give the fat little dog she loved so much too many treats and then ended it all with well-wishes and a Happy Christmas wish too.

I was lounging in bed two days after Hans had left, flicking through the channels on the TV while sipping some hot cocoa. I watched a commercial for dog's teeth and a treat that supposedly helped keep them clean and then the news came on as I sat myself up, cross-legged with my hands wrapped around the mug tightly.

“Tonight, the unfolding of events at a large Newcastle bank left many shocked. Just an hour ago, four men entered while wearing rifles, and in what must be a record-breaking unfolding of events, in a mere three minutes and fifty-six seconds, the vault had been cracked, emptied, and the men had fled the scene. No civilians were harmed, and no shots were fired. The police were at the scene less than a minute after the alarm was pulled, which was not until after the events had passed.” Gosh, it’s Christmas time, who’d rob people around Christmas? I wondered while sipping my coco, watching the screen. “As the police investigate, we have video footage of the men in question. Four white men, neither of their faces being captured on any of the cameras in the bank, but this is what they look like in the available footage.”

There was hot cocoa all over the bed, it had spurted out of my mouth as a silhouette I’d have known anywhere filled the screen along with three others. “FOUR MINUTES!” I shrieked while looking at the blurry image of Hans’ back, his perfect hair and straight shoulder dressed in that beautiful coat of his seemed to damn near burn my eyes. “The police say these men are extremely dangerous, with witnesses claiming three of the men spoke in German we implore all civilians to be wary and if you should see the men in question do not approach. Call the police straight off,” the news lady said further but I could barely hear it.

My mind ran rampant, spinning with all thoughts possible while the news turned to the next event of the evening. My hands cramped around the mug and I couldn’t stop my bloody lip from trembling or my stomach from filling with the sensation of dread. I’d been a daft muppet. A stupid, blabbering, silly-nilly living in a delulu world where rich German men who cared and listened were honest bankers and no danger to the world at all. Bloody hell! I’m in love with a criminal! I stuttered out a breath, one of my hands covering my mouth. “I’m in love… with a bank robber,” I whispered while I cried silent tears of hurt and worry.

I paced the length of the room for several minutes while trying to shut my mind up. The thoughts were an endless barrage of anxiously hurt and worried words I couldn’t stop. I tried in every manner possible to figure out what the bloody hell to do, how it all had gone to pot, how I wasn’t running toward a better life with an honest man who spoils and pampers me — no, no I was running away from an honest life to be with a bloody bank robber who I knew absolutely nothing about! “God, I’m so fucking stupid!”

The clock struck midnight, and still I paced. Back and forth, back and forth. My mind was in shambles but worse than that, my heart hurt and all my feelings were screwing themselves over to be at the center of attention. Why do I just want to crawl up in his arm, talk it alllll out and have him make it sound sane? Have I lost my marbles? Gone mad? Why am I not legging it right out of here?!

I fell asleep while tossing and turning, trying to make sense of my thoughts, arguing against myself — I mean, I hadn’t exactly seen his face or anything, but I knew it was Hans on that news channel. I knew it. Yet I fell asleep with the final thought of wanting him to hold me and make it all make sense.

***

I was a wreck. Everything was topsy-turvy. I had my bag packed but never left. I’d almost called a cab, yet I never did. I swore myself blue over having spent the money he had left — money I could have used to leave, hide, run away, and never speak a word of any of it ever again. Ha! Sure, as if I could ever keep my mouth shut.

I glared at the fire in the hearth of the room, I wasn’t unfamiliar with keeping a fire going to stay warm so stoking it and lighting it had been no issue. The warmth, that was another thing altogether. I felt cold to my bones, even if I was tingly warm on the outside. My nose was even slightly dusted with sweat from sitting so close to the roaring fire beyond the glass doors. The room was sweltering, the air a bit bad given how much oxygen the fire consumed, and I felt a bit dizzy, to be honest, but I couldn’t make myself move.

It had been three days since I saw the news. I’d gone over every bloody detail of everything since I met Hans several times. Especially the phone calls he’d been on. I could no longer go to delulu land and pretend it wasn’t him, I knew it was, there was no other explanation. How bloody perfect this is. The bank robber and the blabbering missy who can’t keep her mouth shut. He won’t come back to me, will he? How could he ever trust my blabbering mouth? We don’t even know each other! But that thought didn’t sit right with me.

After everything that had happened, I was wholly in love with the annoyingly handsome bloke with his charming smiles and cheeky smirks. No matter how silly that was, how stupid it made me, I couldn’t make myself leave when there was even a small chance he’d return for me. And what then? Hmm? Pretend you don’t know? Keep quiet about his secret so he won’t think you’ll blabber? Come on, Lulu… And why am I calling myself that god-awful name?!

“What the— Schnuki!” Hans' hands were on me the next second, I hadn’t even had time to turn my head when his voice filled the room. “Hans?” I asked, feeling disoriented and half-asleep. “What are you doing?!” His hands left me and he ran through the room in a blur of a grey coat. He threw the balcony doors open wide. Cold, crisp air flooded the room and I blinked rapidly.

He was on me the next second. “Up, up,” he said but then grabbed me and hoisted me up bridal style before carrying me out on the balcony. I inhaled with a gasp, feeling all the drowsiness disappear and my vision cleared while a string of curses (it sounded like) left Hans’ mouth, spoken in German before he sat me down on my feet.

His hands grabbed my warm face, the sweat now chilled by the December air. “Are you insane?” he asked in a rush while his eyes searched mine. “I was cold,” I managed to push out while my head ran away with me — all my thoughts coming back with a rush. “You could have died,” he snarled before tugging me close and wrapping me in his arms. Blimey, he smelled so good. Felt so infuriatingly good to be close to. “So could you,” I whispered. “What?” “Mr Bank Robber,” I only said, feeling too tired to deal with any of it now that he was finally back with me.

He stiffened all around me. “You know,” he hummed darkly, his voice far harsher than ever before. “Hard to miss when you were on the news.” “You recognised me from that ?” he asked, leaning back to look at me with widened eyes. “Pffth, I’d know you anywhere.” “Should I be worried or flattered?” “I don’t know, are you leaving me behind ‘cus I talk too much and you feel like you can’t trust me after everything I’ve trusted you with? Including leaving everything behind after meeting you only twice and knowing absolute piss about you?” My words turned angry, fearful really. “Schnuki, calm down for me,” Hans hushed gently, his features softening once more while he looked down at me as I shook in his arms.

He kissed my forehead. “You shouldn’t tell a woman to calm down, has the opposite bloody effect, ya’ know…” He chuckled at that. “I only said so because you feel very anxious, feel free to go off on me anytime you like, little treat. I don’t mind it.” “Sure, bet you're used to having people screaming at you and around you and blurting out nonsense in the heat of the moment.” “You never speak nonsense, don’t say such a thing,” he admonished. “But I do need to know if my secret is safe with you?” “Pffth, as if I could ever say anything to anyone that wouldn’t be good for the man I... You’re a foul git sometimes, you know that?” “Hmm? How so?” “Leaving me here while going out to rob—” “Inside,” Hans said, interrupting me. Course, right, inside, talking about bank robbing on the balcony where anyone can hear is stupid and dangerous, wow, gosh, I’m fucking this right up from the first minute. Stellar job, Lulu. Stellar job…

Hans closed the door behind us and swiftly grabbed my hand to lead me to the bed. He sat me down before closing the vent to the fire, smothering the flames to near embers, and then sat next to me while taking my hand in his once more. I stared at him, and he looked at me.

After a minute of silence, my tears began to flow. “You’re leaving me behind, aren’t you?” “Tell me why I’m a foul git sometimes,” he countered while squeezing my hand. I snivelled and took a deeper breath. “You just left me here, while going off to rob a giant national bank without a word about it. What if you’d been killed? Or captured? Or just hurt, or whatever? I would have just been bloody sitting her until they would have kicked me out for lack of reservation and money. You just left me behind without a bloody word!”

Hans looked at me, a baffled expression taking over his handsome face. “That’s what I’m a foul git for?” “No. You’re a foul git sometimes ‘cus you don’t talk to me. I talk to you all the time, about everything that pops into my head almost.” I glared at him, but it was hard with the tears and snivelling. “But I know nothing of you, like, not a bloody thing. Are you even German?” I asked, daring him to lie to me with my eyes but he just chuckled. “Schnuki, my sweet treat, my little bean spiller,” he said while tugging me closer. “I’m very much German. And you’re a delightful surprise, know that?” I scrunched up my face, swiping at my cheeks. “What?” “I was going to tell you, in due time. I mean, can’t really continue hoaxing you. You’d want to know about the money, my trips, my never staying in one place for long, and such things, no?” I nodded. “Yet here you are, a snivelling mess bawling about me not telling you from the very first moment I’m an international criminal, a successful one mind you,” he said with cheek to his voice and a smirk I couldn’t help but chuckle at.

Hans turned slightly, making us nearly come face to face on the bed. “I knew you were special the moment I met you. Just something about you,” he said and my shoulders softened at the sweet words. “Didn’t think you’d be quite this sweet and understanding, but I’m glad to have been wrong for once.” “You’re not getting out of this by sweet-talking me, spill the tea. All of it. If I’m going to follow an international criminal all over the bloody globe I’ll be damned if I don’t know everything, ‘kay?” I said, feeling as if the world had turned upside down. “I won’t let you leave me behind like everyone else. You’ve ruined any chance of that with everything you’ve done and said so far, I don’t want to be the abandoned puppy anymore.”

Hans kissed my knuckles, letting his lips stroke over them a bit before he lowered our hands again. It sent a shiver down my spine and I really had gone completely bonkers because of him. Not any worse a life than what I had, better even perhaps. Always wanted to see the world, maybe I’ll get to do just that now, even if it is with a criminal, I’ll be safe. I know it. “A dime for your thoughts?” I smiled at the wrongful expression. “Just thinking about seeing the world and being safe, I think I’ll be more safe with you than anyone else.” “An international criminal?” “Well, yeah, sure, but you’re not just any criminal, are you? I mean, obviously it’ll be harrowing and less than fun at times, I’m sure you’re not always staying in posh settings like these,” I said, waving my hand about the room while Hans nodded reluctantly.

“But still, I think you’ll keep me safe, won’t you?” “Always, my sweet treat.” “And, I haven’t recalled a single lie you’ve told, that I know of at least.” “Never lied to you.” “Yeah, I know, and that makes me feel better about this whole thing. I mean, not your fault I didn’t press on the whole bank man thing, right? And besides, you treat me like… like I mean the world to you and you’re always listening, and talking to me like you’ve really heard what I said and you’re very caring, and sweet, and just, yeah, good, you know? It’s not like—” Hans kissed me at that, interrupting my blabbering that had turned faster with each word as my anxiety and need to explain myself as fully as possible shot through the roof.

He stopped my scrambling thoughts and kissed me until I was relaxed once more. “Didn’t mean to stop you from talking, you’re free to talk as much as you need, but you were getting too anxious, schnuki.” “T-Thank you,” I exhaled. “You’re right, I just… Just need to explain myself. I always feel a need to explain myself.” “I understand.” “Yeah, no, sure, I know you do, I’m just sorry I can’t stop myself, I know you understand, and you don’t mind, and all that, and I’m really grateful for— Oh, right, you know, sorry…” Hans chuckled at my embarrassed smile and stroked my cheek once more with his warm hand.

“Do you want to join me, then?” he asked, no pressure to it, just genuine wondering. “If you don’t mind.” “I want nothing else than have you with me at all times possible.” “Then yes, yes, please. I want to be with you, Hans.” “And I with you, but we’ll have to work on that anxiety of yours. Sometimes you’ll have to be on your own, but I will always come back for you.” “Promise?” “I promise.”

He held me tight, kissing the top of my head while I drew a deep sigh of relief, feeling like an overfilled kettle boiling too wildly, all my emotions spilling over. “You gotta cool it with the whole giver of gifts thing though… I couldn’t spend the money you left behind, I gave half of it away…” “I knew you would… You’re goodness and sweetness, all wrapped up like a delicious treat and that wrapping will be of the finest kind imaginable. I’ll make sure of it.” “Hans!” I scolded with a laugh. “I will always spoil you, schnuki. You deserve nothing less than the best of everything, always.” Then I hope you’ll enjoy the coat I got for you… A gift from you to me, became a gift from me to you, don’t really know how valid that is but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Now, my little treat,” Hans said after a moment, “how would you feel about spending Christmas in Alaska?” “Alaska?!” My eyes were wide with something I could only think to look like unbridled joy. “It’s perfect for the winter holiday, no?” “I’d love to,” I confessed. “Thought you would,” he said with one of those charming smiles and a twinkle in his clear eyes.

Blimey, I was going to Alaska with an international Criminal. What a way to spend my first Christmas away from home. Bloody hell I wanna call Dad and tell him to fucking shove his mints up his arse, I was going to see the whole damn world with the man of my dreams. “I think I made it,” I mumbled into Hans' chest. “Whatever you thought before those words, I agree, sweetie. I feel the same way,” Hans whispered before holding me even tighter while I inhaled the wonderful scent of him.

“I… Hans, I love you…” “Schnuki, my sweet treat, my Christmas miracle,” Hans said in such a deep tone it was difficult to hear him clearly. “I love you too, since the moment you smiled at me for the first time.” I shivered at the sweet words and buried my face in his neck. Life was so perfectly imperfect I couldn’t keep the laughs and tears from spilling over. I was where I was supposed to be, where life would take us I couldn’t even begin to think about but I knew, no matter what, Hans would always come back for me and I would always be his. My gentleman criminal.

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: I just love this serial fic so much, gosh, feels so good they sorted it out and have mutually agreed they re to stay together and just-, travel the world and care for each other and just-, waaaaaaah! 😍👏 I know I was a day late with this one, I'm really sorry but I hope you feel these nearly 7k makes up for it - and you'll still get today's fic later today as well! I'm gonna write at record speed today - have to, my entire weekend is full of Christmas celebrating (I'll squeeze in some writing as often as possible so you'll get fics daily though).

Gosh, feels a bit sad to say bye-bye to these two, maybe I'll revisit them at some point in the future but I can't make any promises. It's really difficult to write this one for me (the literal language use I mean) so we'll see. I kinda like leaving them here too - it's a sweet ending that's closed but also open 🥰

Q: What's something you really enjoyed/liked/feel good about that happened or you did during 2023? A: for me, it's a few things but publishing my OW writing is probably the biggest thing really 🥰👏

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[Dec:2023]

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Small house ideas and setup for rent beautiful Selfcontain apartment available now with a good road network and light located at adageorge by chinda in port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria

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Speed Darlington regains his freedom

  Speed Darlington regains his freedom His lawyer, Stan Alieke, who announced this on social media this evening, wrote “Delighted to announce that our client, Mr Darlington Achakpo Aka Speed Darlington (Akpi) has regained his freedom after two months of illegal incarceration. For the record, as his team of lawyers, we will be exploring every angle of the law to ensure that he gets justice for his…

[lnwrcauli]

Ms. Raven the Eccentric Engine [NWR AU]

History

Ms. Raven (or Vanessa to give this eccentric engine her proper name) was built in 1910 by the Darlington Works for the North Eastern Railway. She worked out of Gateshead for a spell before being loaned out to the North Western Railway in 1922 to cover for Edith being out of action. As traffic demands ramped up in the mid twenties, it was decided to extend her loan. She managed the Wild Nor' Wester when Gordon was ill, as well as fast passenger services and mail trains. Some say that all the constant high speeds got to her smokebox, as the others found her quite an odd engine indeed. She would ramble endlessly about conspiracies, French spies and shadow governments. The other engines quickly learned to tune her out, however.

During the Second World War, Ms. Raven was recalled to Gateshead to help with the war effort. Very little from her war service is documented and she refuses to speak of it. She was returned to Sodor in 1945 and bounced between engine sheds until 1949 when she was stabled full-time at Tidmouth. She continued with her pre-war duties until 1958, when British Railways recalled her to Darlington for scrap. Not one to let one of his most faithful engines meet the torch, he purchased her and had her sent to Crovan's Gate Works, where she was outshopped in NWR Lined Black and given the number 20.

From 1960, her workload on the express began to slowly decrease until 1980 when she was replaced entirely. Feeling hurt and betrayed by the loss of her favourite job, Ms. Raven started to act out. She'd get rough with wagons, be sluggish to respond to her driver's controls and occasionally outright refuse to steam. This all came to a head in 1981 when she purposely derailed outside of Tidmouth Yard, fouling the points to the shed. Sir Topham Hatt I came up to her and told her in no uncertain words that she had to get her act together or she'd be sold to a museum. Swiftly pulling herself together, Ms. Raven accepted her new life hauling fast passenger and goods trains, though she secretly envies Pip and Emma.

Personality

Ms. Raven is a very eccentric individual indeed, she'll talk your head, smokebox or grille off about whatever conspiracy theory her driver found her recently. Despite being a steam locomotive, she technically has an online presence through her driver, who documents her ramblings on a blog website. She's usually quite reclusive, but seems to have taken a large liking to Alderney. She's usually quite wary of newcomers, often citing one of her numerous conspiracies. All in all, Ms. Raven may be eccentric and odd, but can have her nice moments too.