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The Evolution of Property Hunting
#best Estate Agents#best Letting agents UK#commercial agent#commercial agents Edinburgh#commercial estate agent#commercial estate agents Edinburgh#Commercial Property#commercial property agent#commercial property agent Edinburgh#Edinburgh Estate Agents#estate agency#estate agency Edinburgh#estate agency UK#Estate Agent Edinburgh#estate agents#letting Agents UK#top 10 property agents
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Hey uh, if ninth doctor wants to show up with the titanic, now would be a good time-
#coronation#uk politics#if you get this reference i...i wont give you anything but i'll be relieved someone got it lol#like where's christopher#is his pr agent holding him back#let him speak
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"Empire Chase is a trusted name in the property market in Harrow, offering expert services for renting and letting. With deep local knowledge and a personalised approach, their team provides tailored solutions to help tenants and landlords navigate Harrow's competitive property market. Trust Empire Chase for a smooth and successful rental experience."
#Real Estate Agent In Harrow#Letting Agents in Harrow#Real Estate Companies in London#Best Real Estate Companies in London#Property Market In London#Property Market In Harrow#Properties Sale In Harrow#Property to Buy In Harrow#Properties Sale In London#Estate Agents in Wembley#Estate Agents in Harrow#Estate Agents Harrow London#Harrow Estate Agents#Estate Agents In Bushey#Estate Agents Pinner#Harrow Letting Agents#Property Agents in Harrow#Property Agents in Wembley#Estate Agents in Watford#Estate Agents Stanmore#Houses for Sale in England#UK Property for Sale#House for Sale in UK#House for Sale in Edgware#central apartments wembley#Wembley central apartments#Central Apartments
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Why are lettings agents so shit. Fire alarm intermittent beeping all night. Ring the agent first thing, says ‘she’ll contact someone’. Spend all morning off work waiting for a trades person or building handyman, clean a little. Lunch time ring again and she tells me she e-mailed the landlord. Like girl do more than one email the f*cking alarm is going. She didn’t seem bothered, was the laziest s.o.b. Absolute state of the Uk rental sector rn
#lettings agents#renting uk#uk rental sector#renting in the uk#fuck this honestly#fire alarms and smoke alarms should have a button that turns them off this is stupid
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rapper!onyankopon.
just some head canons i have.
in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.
★ * ° 🛰 °. 🌓 • .°• 🚀
rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.
but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.
rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.
rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!
rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.
“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”
“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.
rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?
no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.
ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.
rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.
there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.
he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!
rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.
rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.
“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.
rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.
“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.
“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.
“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.
“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.
meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.
so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.
but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.
“ONY!!!”
#🌞🍃spliffymae#ony x black reader#ony x y/n#rapper!ony#music producer connie#au#anime x black!reader#aot x black reader#attack on titan#onyankopon#onyankopon x black!reader#aot
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I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???
Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:
NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):
Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:
Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":
And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:
So, like. Just some food for thought.
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The Grand Design.
Yan Arlecchino x F Reader.
Synopsis: Spring is soon to arrive in Fontaine, thawing out the waters and making the land greener. After weeks of being held within the walls of Hotel Bouffes d'ete, The Knave has promised you that you may go to the Florence Festival together as a reward for your good behavior. Though you are now here, you soon are reminded of how Arlecchino’s definition of a reward is quite different from yours. Still, it is best to remain on her good side. The man you two are following should have known that well too.
Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, spoilers for Arlecchino's story quest, and minor character death/violence.
Word Count: 4.1k.
*~*~*~*
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
Brutus (Instrumental) by The Buttress
I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin
Bernadette by IAMX
Who Is She ? by I Monster
Bang Bang Bang Bang - Remastered 2021 by Sohodolls
Deutschland by Rammstein
Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde
Beautiful Is Boring by BONES UK
Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer
Swimming Pool by Marie Madeleine
*~*~*~*
“Something wicked this way comes, and as I set to face it, I'm unsure, should I embrace it, should I run? What motivates me? Hatred? Is it love?” – The Buttress, Brutus
*~*~*~*
The room that The Knave put you in when you first arrived here never fails to seem smaller than it is. Your designated bed is placed in the middle of the wall farthest from the locked doors. There is a large window on each side made of up pink and white stained glass, but no matter how much you attempt to punch them, they never shatter. The floor has carpet on top of it, just soft enough for your bare feet to feel comfortable.
Arlecchino never lets you out of your room even for meals, and thus had a wooden table installed in front of the right window. There are two chairs too; one for you and one for whomever is put up to the task of watching you while you eat. Only to make sure you’re getting enough nutrients, she said after you gained enough courage to ask. I don’t want you to get ill. You had attempted to skip meals before, but as soon as the children who had cleaned up your plates and trash after every meal had found out, “Father” was soon notified. She was not completely furious, but she was most definitely not pleased. She scolded you for what felt like hours. All you are doing is lowering your strength… surely you’ll understand eventually.
You don’t throw away your food anymore, after she was the one that oversaw you eating every day for around three weeks, her eyes seemingly staring into your soul.
At first, you ate your food because you wanted the children in charge of watching you to not suffer punishments if they were not up to the task.
But after having enough conversations with Arlecchino, your motivations changed. Once an agent of the House of the Hearth used the vacant room beside your own to sneak out and run away. From the sounds you heard from the other side of the wall, it seems they were found out immediately. Arlecchino didn’t seem distraught when she visited you a few minutes later. Her appearance was not unusual, but from the crashing noises, you knew that the agent must have tried to fight The Knave herself.
They were not successful, that much was clear. Arlecchino hadn’t even broken a sweat, while they were fighting for their life.
There was a gift for you in one of her hands. A small black box with a red ribbon. You soon connected the dots. The escapee had the worst luck. Arlecchino was already on her way to your room, and just so happened to witness them opening the unlocked window. They didn’t scream though, despite all the other loud sounds of throwing vases and such, which also showed Arlecchino finished off her target quicker than they could beg for mercy or help.
Here at the House of the Hearth, everyone is responsible for their own actions. Loyalty shall not go unrewarded. Obedience shall not go unsupported. But… Foolishness shall not be without a hefty price to pay. Lies shall not be without precious items being taken as due compensation.
So, now your top priority is to be on your best behavior solely for yourself.
Every child here looks up to you. They have treated you as such ever since you woke up behind locked doors. But they also ensure that Arlecchino’s lessons are as drilled into your skull as her lessons are drilled into theirs. They ensure that you remain compliant.
All in all, they have taught you more about the House of the Hearth than “Father” ever could. The children scold you whenever you don’t follow the House’s long list of rules as if they are your caretakers. In a way perhaps they are, in Arlecchino’s point of view, but you would never admit to that. They reward you whenever you remember to water the few plants they had placed beside your bedroom window and cheer whenever you greet their savior with a bow and a good afternoon, Madam. They take away the few books Arlecchino has given you whenever you refuse to eat and yell at you whenever you refuse to even look at her.
Why are you so ungrateful?
We only want what’s best for you!
Do you wish to break Father’s heart?
So you don’t disobey them anymore. You had realized that they were not disciplining you to have The Knave not be mad at them. No. If only it were that simple. They discipline you because they want you to be a part of their family. That is why the younger ones slip drawings of you underneath your doors. That is why the older ones joke around with you during mealtimes.
You don’t throw out any drawings given to you.
You attempt to laugh at unfunny jokes. To get access to more freedoms, you must be on your best behavior.
You have to get the children’s blessings to even be considered good enough to step into the House’s flower garden.
It has a glass ceiling with all sorts of carved plant designs on top. Rainbow Roses. Romaritime Flowers. Lumidouce Bells. Lakelight Lilies. There is a path right down the middle to see each of them in all their glory. At the end of it, there is a small tree just big enough to shadow one or two sitting people. That place has become your sacred spot. You read and even take naps there, when your unbendable schedule allows it.
That place is also where Arlecchino first proposed an award for behaving well for the children.
Lyney tells me you are adjusting well. You noticed that her tone was the smallest bit higher, but you didn’t pay attention to the way the corners of her mouth pointed upwards just slightly.
You didn’t answer her, instead nodding your head.
I trust his judgment, and therefore you can choose a reward from the two I have selected for us.
As soon as she says the first option, your hearing gives out. Your mind is focused on it and it alone. The Florence Festival. An opportunity to finally sweep your hands on blades of grass and feel the wind flow into and out of your hair. It’s paradise, plain and simple.
*~*~*~*
The small circular table’s wood is light in color, and its iron framework leaves little to be desired. The chairs possess a similar appearance due to the use of the same materials, but the top rounded rail has a fake red rose attached. It was likely formed from melted ore that was poured into molds instead of being carved by hand, but you don’t dare ask about it to the one sitting across from you, sipping her hot beverage and looking at the flower fields in the distance.
You don’t want to see anyone get in trouble for your pickiness.
Right?
You observe in silence as a single petal drops from the vase of flowers between your two dishes, almost as if the universe is conspiring to vex Arlecchino much at the expense of the fates of those who cross her.
You are unsure as to whether or not you count.
The food on your side compared to the food on her side could not be more different; rainbow macarons and a latte and steak tartare and a cup of black tea. But they still have a common similarity despite their appearance and ingredients; they are outrageously overpriced.
The main dishes you can understand. After all, they are this cafe’s specialties along with the top two bestsellers. But the drinks are another matter entirely. You cannot possibly comprehend in what world would a cup of tea with no sugar or cream amount to ten thousand hundred Mora and that being a reasonable price. The same thing with your latte, but you figure that the added sugar and cream had understandably raised the price.
Though twenty thousand Mora for something that took less than ten minutes to prepare when you lived by yourself is evil. Some guilt stirs within you when you think about the total amount of Mora Arlecchino has spent on you thus far on this little outing. You two have not even made it to the Florence Festival’s famous entrance arch yet. In addition, surely there will be other things she will get you, either by your request or by hers.
The Knave raises her hand like a corpse arising from its slumber.
“From what my information sources have told me, this… ‘Florence Festival’ is about the arrival of spring. It sounds rather wholesome, in my opinion… and it sounds like something the children would like to partake in, next time.” She looks down at your still full plate. “Is the cuisine not up to your expectations? We can go somewhere else if you would like.”
You shake your head, and pick up the pink macaron in an attempt for Arlecchino to not call over a rather unfortunate waiter. “No, no… It’s fine. I promise… Peruere.”
You spoke her true name with a softness akin to a dove’s plucked feathers. She does not smile, but instead leans over and grabs the red macaron off your plate. You do not stop her. Her teeth sink into it right up to the center where the raspberry jam is. The filling leaks out onto her lips, but soon blends in as they share a similarly saccharine hue.
“It is unkind to lie to me.”
Between her fingers, the macaron is crushed to near dust within a single motion. Arlecchino does not scowl, but there is a small frown on her face. A tsk sound. Disappointment.
“They’re… rather stale, aren’t they [First]?”
“I shall call over the foolish owner of this establishment, and then we shall go see the rest of this festival.”
You pray not for the owner, but for you. Arlecchino's vigilant gaze is constantly fixed on you, making selfishness seem like a mere reflex.
*~*~*~*
“I must admit I have other plans relating to this festival.” Arlecchino sighs, slowly her walking speed until she comes to a stop.
You copy her movements like you are her reflection, but unlike what she sees in pools of blood, you don’t speak when she does.
She puts one of her clawed hands near her chin as she continues. “Consider it to be an immovable obstacle, if that is how you wish to see it. But I still need your help regardless.”
You suppress all feelings of wanting something else than taking orders day in and day out, not wanting your metaphorical leash to be pulled. Arlecchino looks to her right, past the stalls of event sellers, and to the back of a young man.
“If it also makes you feel better, you shall be rewarded for assisting me.” She offers. “After our task is done, I shall buy you anything and everything you want here. The cafe was just a little sample of all the wonders I can give you if you earn them.”
Your focus is not on her words but on the stalls. It is unintentional, she knows that. But she has never been one to tolerate disrespect from anyone, and so she snaps her fingers to bring your gaze back to her. You look up at her like you are one of her apostles. She has attained your attention, your fear, and your eyes once more, all without harming a single Crystalfly. Who knows how long this will last before you regress back to old habits? She hopes for your sake, that the day you divert from her love is the day this world falls down. Even then, she will catch up to you no matter how many people she has to bury, or even if she has to bury herself.
You two will never be apart, because she won’t let anyone do so, even if it was the Tsaritsa herself.
“Yes, Arlecchino?”
Your voice is not nearly as trembling as it used to be, but to her, that is a great thing. It means that you have the strength to carry yourself properly, but you still depend on following the rules to not be scolded. Newer children who did not ask to be in the Fatui have acted similarly once she has given them a stern talking to. Their heads are tilted upwards, and they have their one hand on their chests. The other is always behind their back with two of their fingers crossed. While you possess the former, you do not possess the latter anymore. Arlecchino is proud of you, for that. You must have learned plenty from the children. While she is not your father, she is still the head of the House of the Hearth, and all other body parts follow suit.
Like the spider she so loved growing up though, if the head is cut off in any way, the legs will still be able to flourish. She learned that from observing specifically jumping spiders. When a much larger spider came, it bit off her chosen jumping spider’s head and left the rest of the corpse. The legs scurried away.
The legs still lived their life even without the head in place. The children will follow suit eventually, once Arlecchino eventually perishes. Though you will follow her. She expects nothing less. Thus, she already has preparations for what is to come on that fateful day.
It will be painless though. She guarantees that.
“Follow him,” She orders. “Befriend him, if you would like. Just please don’t get too attached, now.”
*~*~*~*
When you’re off to do your task, Arlecchino reminisces of better times. She sighs, sits down on one of the nearby benches, crosses one leg over the other, and looks down at her black hands. The same ones that hold others that are brimming with purity. Though she has never touched your hands, she can tell they are warm and soft, and everything else hers are not, from how much hand lotion you use each week and how often you manicure your nails. She doesn’t want to ask you, but the reason for this is unknown to her. Is she afraid of rejection? No. That cannot be it.
You wouldn’t dare reject her, after all, that you learned never to do at Hotel Bouffes d'ete. Lyney and Lynette were your main teachers if she remembers properly. Though, now that she thinks about it, Foltz must have had some lessons for you as well. He is not a cruel boy to those who have earned Arlecchino’s trust, but at the same time, he has no mercy for those who break Father’s rules. Lynette must have stopped him on multiple counts every time you acted out of line.
Foltz is too impulsive, while Lynette is frankly too calculating.
That is why she chose Lyney to teach you most of the ropes she set out.
Lyney is good at that sort of thing.
He has the power to get everyone to listen to his beck and call with a simple smile and a few words. She also trusted he would help you feel more comfortable, as Lyney always gives gifts and speaks more gently to newcomers. With his help, Arlecchino knows very specific things about you, details that outsider Fatui spies would never be able to grasp. Whether or not you told him those things is insignificant. Lyney may not be as observant as Lynette, but he still has a knack for seeing finer habits and actions. Arlecchino also knows though that because of the twins’ bleeding hearts, they often bury anything Foltz will tell on before he sees them. After all, Foltz still has yet to grasp certain aspects of your body language and speech patterns because he doesn’t see you as often as he wants to, but Lyney and Lynette know much more because they spend the most time with you.
She doesn't mind it at all, because they treat you like family. That is all Arlecchino wants when it comes to you, to make you see their way and for everyone to get along.
…
If only the faces of the Hearth stayed the same, that they only grew and never lessened. It disappoints her, whenever she has to deal with people that are ordered to be erased.
But even after they are erased by her, sometimes the dead come back in surprising ways. Like the man you are following. It pains her, somewhere deep down. She knows that it is for the best of the House, but emotions cannot be suppressed forever.
She almost weeps when she thinks of a familiar face but closes her eyes before tears can fall.
“Pierre Snezhevich,” she says. “You had the chance to be reborn, took it… and now, for what? This time you are destined to die for good, I’m afraid.”
She takes the bundle of dried daffodils from her pocket and lays them beside her.
*~*~*~*
“I… daffodils are my favorite flower.”
The man takes but a few steps closer as he says those words, smiling. But the moment you attempt to bridge the gap yourself, he stops and looks around. His pointer finger adjusted his glasses as he looked more in peril than happy. The other hand drops the bundle of daffodils near his feet, and you see them both retreat into his leather jacket’s pockets.
You don’t move any closer, afraid that you may scare him off with any sort of movement. You don’t move any closer, afraid of scaring him away and invoking Arlecchino’s wrath. If you fail this mission, who knows how long it will take before you’re allowed to go outside again?
You simply wait in place with your hands in front of you, and attempt to give him the most comforting smile you can muster. But your acting skills are still subpar when compared to The Knave and her children. So because of that, the man doesn’t move from his position either, scowling.
“Need something?” He asks, making it glaringly obvious he doesn't trust you in the slightest. “If you have something to say… say it already. Please.”
��Uh… I just complimented the bouquet in your hand. I… don’t really have anything else to say in particular, I just wanted to strike up a conversation.”
The man looks past you, and you don’t hear a verbal response.
Instead what you hear is the clattering of high heels touching the path’s bricks.
“Ah, dearest, here you are.”
A familiar clawed hand rests just above your collarbone, the arm just above the opposing shoulder. You don’t speak and only watch as the man’s expression delves little by little into complete terror. His eyes widen and his knees crumble.
“Eric Draftler… What a surprise. We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
“You… two know each other? I was just asking about the daffodils,” You play into the lie, this little image Arlecchino told you to sketch with hardly any directions on whatever to do. The wind leads the daffodil petals on the ground into the air, and soon some of them are gone. Only the leaves remain. “This… is my fiancée. Arlecchino.”
“Didn’t I just tell you we know each other?”
“Yes but still,” You don’t look into her eyes, instead staring at Eric’s shadow from across the path. For you know what is lurking within their depths, somewhere deep down in there. Disappointment, and a scolding waiting to happen. You can practically hear it now, her voice edging on anger with no ounce of any other emotion in her tone. “I just wanted him to remember if he… forgot. That’s all.”
Gradually, as you both proceed, Eric begins to move further and further away from you, walking backward. Eventually, you manage to guide him to a less crowded section of the festival, almost as if you pushed him there.
“Tell me, why did you kill Ginelle?”
Arlecchino’s voice is no longer friendly, and her grasp on your neck area is tighter. But you still don’t dare to ask her to stop, because that will make your injuries far worse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fatui scum.” Eric hisses, his arms now covering his stomach as he turns paler. “I have never met you.”
Arlecchino lets go of you, crossing her arms as she gets closer. “Oh really?”
“Not in person at least!” Eric says, almost yelling. “You-”
As Arlecchino puts a finger to her lips though, Eric’s voice gets quieter.
The clattering of high heels also gets quieter as she gets the closest she can be to Eric without giving up the illusion of common courtesy. She shakes her head and looks down on him. Arlecchino never tolerates anything other than murmuring voices, gentle singing, or absolute silence.
It’s something you have come to know quite well. This rule has no exceptions.
“Now, now, Mister Draftler.” She leans just slightly. But her head is still held high. “I just wanted a conversation. I promise you that this conflict can result in no physical fighting if you just listen to what I have to say.”
Eric does not move back anymore. While his mind is most likely forwarding the flight response, his body is stuck at a standstill. It’s a stance you have grown to know well when Arlecchino approaches someone; them being an enemy, a friend, or otherwise is of no significance to her. All she wants is control, and to appear above everyone else.
Whether to guide, defend, or crush depends on your perspective more than hers. She has the power to make dreams come true but often chooses to conjure nightmares instead. They teach better lessons that way in her opinion, regardless of whether they are the last lesson they will ever learn or one of the first in a long line of those to come.
“You’re simply overreacting, I’m afraid.” A tsking sound emerges from her throat as she continues to look down into the eyes of her already-defeated foe. “I do not wish to detain you and bring you to Snezhnaya for further questioning. My dear [First] will be all alone with no one to care for her quite like I do if I have to go all the way to the Zapolyarny Palace to oversee your trial and due punishment. I am sure you don’t want that either, yes?”
Eric does not respond, putting his hands back in his pockets.
“You know your past life, don’t you?” Arlecchino asks, no, states. “You most likely don’t remember anything but key fragments, but that is more than enough to justify giving you the death sentence. When you attempted to sneak out via that room next to [First]’s, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. You repay me by killing your own sister?”
While Arlecchino does not tolerate loud noises from other people, she has nothing against raising her own voice. So, she does just that.
“How dare you.” She steps just a bit closer, having her arms crossed once again. “You were my child once, Pierre. But no longer.” Arlecchino puts a hand out towards Eric and squeezes. The man begins to choke, clawing at his throat.
You put your hands over your eyes, and wait until it is over.
…
You’re not sure how long it takes for Eric to die.
It couldn’t have been more than two minutes, you think. But time dragged on as you attempted to blur out the sounds of Eric’s gasps and scratching.
From the little bit you allowed yourself to see, you could have sworn Arlecchino was smiling.
“You didn’t do the best job, I’m afraid.” You hear The Knave say, and realize she is talking to you.
“I’m sorry.”
She sighs then, you think. The clattering of her high heels gets louder as she approaches you. Then a thump.
“It’s alright. You still managed to get the target distracted while I did the rest. In addition, this was not a terrible outcome for your first mission.” Arlecchino puts a hand on your head, and you uncover your eyes, looking up at her. “Be proud, [First].”
Her nails don’t poke into your scalp like you feared they would. You’re grateful for that.
“Well, a deal is a deal, yes? Let us enjoy this festival while it lasts.” She turns around to look at the body behind you two. “Oh, and don’t worry about that. It’ll stay here to teach a lesson to fools.”
You weren’t worried about that in the first place.
You’re worried about what will happen to you when your plans of escaping are executed.
“Is something the matter?”
You attempt to smile, but if anything you look exhausted. “No. I’m just… happy.”
“I’m glad.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#author aya#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#yandere arlecchino x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#i got mona instead of her so this is the next best thing i can have </3
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As the year comes to a close, I want to thank all the writers in this fandom one more time—not only for providing me with a welcome escape but also for inspiring me to try my own hand at writing. Wishing all of you a smooth transition into what will, hopefully, be a more gentle 2025.
🌨 Until by @allwaswell16 [E, 38k, farm]
Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.
🌨 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac [E, 23k, omegaverse]
A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.
🌨 the school of extraordinary lovers by @stylinsoncity [E, 191k, enemies to lovers]
harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.
🌨 Curves of your lips rewrite history by @lunarheslwt [E, 8k, royalty]
Everyone bows to Prince Harry, but in the privacy of his four walls, the one he is bowing and kneeling for is his knight, Sir Louis.
🌨 Streetlights in the dark blue by @itsmotivatingcara [E, 120k, murder mystery]
Louis Tomlinson is an investigative journalist.
He's spent the better part of his life researching the psyches of serial killers, and publishing articles to provide a deeper understanding into their methodologies. His pen-name, Orion, is well known around the globe. An alter-ego that keeps his pockets lined, and his identity private.
That is, until a letter arrives at his home address. A letter containing a symbol. One dubbed by a serial killer who'd vanished three years prior. The postage stamp? Bainbridge Island.
He'd spent so long peering into the darkness, it should be no surprise to discover that something had been looking back.
The island presents a host of mysteries. It also houses a nosy witch, determined to break down his walls.
And an FBI agent hellbent on shattering his carefully constructed world.
🌨 Wanksgiving 2024 @wanksgivingfest [fic fest, masturbation]
Why celebrate Thanksgiving when you could celebrate Wanksgiving? And what better way to do that than to write a fic about wanking?
A collection of masturbatory delights and the first fic fest I ever participated in.
🌨 Too Hard to Describe by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 1.5k, threesome]
Harry's agreed to let someone else fuck Louis. As long as Louis describes it all to him as it's happening.
🌨 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [E, 17k, girl direction]
Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.
🌨 To Fall For The Bumblebee by @jaywriteshome [T, 64k, fake relationship]
Their relationship may be fake, but their feelings are real.
After lying to his mom about having a boyfriend, Louis needs to find a fake one stat, so he has someone to bring to his family's annual Christmas party. But as he begins his search, things take a turn, and he attracts the attention of not one man but four.
🌨 Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples [E, 226k, enemies to lovers]
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
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A Shot Of You
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female!reader
Summary: Your new work uniform attracts unwanted attention from a stranger...
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , explicit sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , sex in an alley , some language , a little violence (not towards the reader)
A/N 1 - This is one of two submissions for @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest. Thank you for doing this challenge, it's been fun playing around with the prompts.
A/N 2 - Prompts - Asked a friend to pick up to five prompts for me... of course I was given five so two stories it is 🙈 11) quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials 15) jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar 19) getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit
A/N 3 - the “Angel Shot” is a reference to a scheme in the UK known as Ask For Angela. Please check it out and remember to be safe out there lovelies!
A/N 4 - This is my first post on Tumblr. Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️
“Hey, what’s taking so long?”
You smothered a laugh at your boyfriend’s petulant whine. “Be patient, Lloyd!” When he grumbled you couldn’t help giggling. Patience was not a word to describe Lloyd Hansen… except when it came to you. Hired by the CIA as an independent agent, Lloyd was previously a loose cannon with physical tendencies and a short temper. His former handler had once said they preferred him effective instead of stable… which spoke volumes considering they knew how effective he could be. Since becoming involved with you, he had become less impulsive and aggressive. But something that never changed was the fact that Lloyd was fiercely protective… and very egotistical.
Shaking your head, you checked your appearance one last time before leaving the bathroom leaning on the doorframe of your adjoining bedroom to see Lloyd flopped on the bed. He was wearing a black shirt with white pants. His boots rested on the bedsheets, a habit of his that annoyed you. Clearing your throat, you stepped further into the room.
Lloyd heaved a great sigh before starting to sit up. “Seriously, I don’t get what’s so special about - “ his jaw dropped, blue eyes raking hungrily over the new work uniform you were required to wear. The black bodice pushed your breasts a little bit higher than normal, and the short skirt rode half way up your thighs so Lloyd knew you’d be flashing more than a smile if you bent too far forward. He wasn’t thrilled about the modifications to your uniform knowing others would be able to look at you. But the bar you worked at had regular patrons who knew to behave under promise of being barred. Plus the men on security were effective at stopping any unwanted advances. Not as effective as he was though…
Lloyd was so deep in his musings that he didn’t see you tilt your head, puzzled at the lack of reaction. “Lloyd?” When he focused on you again, you smiled shyly. “What do you think?”
Lazily, Lloyd slowly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He carelessly twirled his finger and you span carefully in an effort not to trip. “Well barkeep, what do you got for a man to quench his thirst around here?”
“What are you in the mood for?” You batted back coyly.
A smirk graced his lips, eyes twinkling in mischief. You moved forward between his legs and he caught you by the hips. “Hmm… You look fucking delicious… maybe a shot of you?”
You watched wide eyed as his hands ghosted under your skirt, one holding the material up and the other moving close to your clothed centre. “And how do you want that?” Gasping, you gripped his forearms for balance.
“Straight up”. Licking his lips, Lloyd slipped off the edge of the bed and onto his knees.
Groaning, your hands fisted in his dark hair and tugged gently. “Lloyd… you can’t… I gotta get to work”. Your own words sounded empty to you, you loved the feeling of his mouth on you.
Wet heat suddenly washed over the thin lace of your underwear. Lloyd hummed in approval at your taste, the feeling causing you to grind against his mouth. His hands dragged the scrap of material down enough so he could easily access your core. Teasing, he blew gently and licked through your wet folds. A loud moan escaped your mouth at the feel of his moustache brushing over your clit. “Just a little taste, my sweet Moonshine”. Hearing your nickname you melted in his touch and surrendered yourself to the pleasure.
A few hours later and you were almost done with your shift. Though part of your brain was focused on making drinks, the majority was focused on what awaited you at home. Lloyd tried to convince you with two orgasms using his mouth and tongue to stay home with him so he could enjoy your new uniform in private. Honestly you’d had to bite your lip when he pouted. Lloyd could be stubborn and childish, and very used to getting his way. Instead, you’d offered to change into your ‘fuck-me’ heels once home and let them work their magic. Though he still grumped, he surrendered on the condition he’d drive you to work and pick you up.
You noticed a few regulars remained, nursing their drinks and talking quietly. They were on their best behaviour with you after having been taught a lesson by Lloyd. Most of your regulars had either seen his possessiveness firsthand while an unfortunate few experienced it firsthand. When an unfamiliar customer sat in front of you at the bar, you smiled in greeting and placed a napkin on the counter. “Evening, what’ll it be?”
“A Bud, a shot of you and your phone number”. The man grinned smugly, obviously pleased with himself and his delivery. It took all of your restraint to not roll your eyes, you just grabbed a bottle and placed it on the bar before requesting payment. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lloyd enter the bar. He winked at you and a big smile lit up your face, dimming slightly at a scoff from the new customer. He preened when your gaze returned to him. “Think you dropped something there gorgeous”. Glancing around in confusion, you cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your standards. Why don’t cha bend over and show me how low they go?”
God, did these lines actually work? Shaking your head, you signalled to another bartender that you were stepping away. You slipped out from behind the bar, only to find your personal space incredibly crowded by an entirely unwelcome presence.
“If you want the best fuck of your life, come with me…” His dark gaze raked over your body, leaving your skin crawling.
“I already have plans for that”. Darting around him, you moved towards the staff room next to the rear exit and took a few moments to gather your thoughts. You didn’t have long left to work, but you’d definitely mention the pesky patron to security before leaving. As you inhaled to calm your racing heart, you failed to notice a set of footsteps that seemed to linger outside, followed by another set. Exhaling sharply, you stepped outside the staff room. Over the soft chatter of the patrons and the music from the overhead system, you could hear something else. You moved closer to the rear exit, ears straining. Cries of pain? Maybe another animal got caught in the vermin traps dotted around the property.
You opened the door to the alley behind the bar and froze at the sight before you. Lloyd was standing with his back to you, the creepy customer pinned to the wall of the next building with one hand. Lloyd’s free hand held something silver. “Boring” Lloyd sighed, sounding almost disappointed. He slowly pressed the silver object into the man’s shoulder who cried out in pain. “One last time, Pumpkin. What were you doing near the staff room?” You gulped softly. Lloyd only use ‘cutesy’ nicknames on those that annoyed him.
“Argh… looking f-for the…. Bathroom!” The last word was nearly squeaked in pain.
“Tsk. Even a blind man could see the neon sign for the can… which is near the entrance. That shit ain’t gonna fly”. Lloyd shook his head. “You were trying to score with the bartender”.
“That little slut inside? She was begging for it!” His words were cut off by his shout of pain. Silently, Lloyd pocketed his knife and now held the man’s family jewels in a vice grip. The menace made a noise that almost sounded like a high pitched squeak. Lloyd cocked his head before twisting his wrist. Cries of pain echoed in the night air, making your heart clench. Carefully you moved so you’d approach Lloyds side rather than his back. You were within an arms length and started to reach for his shoulder when a punishing grip caught your wrist.
You looked up and Lloyds furious gaze captivated you, his blue eyes dark and burning with anger. A touch of apprehension sparked within you. The man before you with this look was not your crass and childish lover, this was the psychopathic weapon of destruction. You thought of Lloyds temper, having seen a few instances where he had lashed out at men who thought it ok to be bolder in their flirting or try to grab you as you served them. Lloyds self control then evaporated before an angry haze would envelope him, but he had never hurt you.
“Lloyd? It’s me. Please look at me Lloyd”. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes, so deep in the depths of his haze he didn’t know who you were. Your mind raced, thinking of Lloyd’s reactions after dealing with other unwanted advances. “Hey… Hot Lips”. His brow furrowed slightly, just enough to indicate he heard you. “Come back to me. I need your kisses Hot Lips”. Any embarrassment you may have felt over your words vanished when his blue eyes began to soften, glacier becoming ocean. Whining, the goon slumped to the floor when released but you and Lloyd never stopped watching each other and still he held your wrist.
“What’s goin’ on out here?” Behind you came the voice of Tommy, head of security for the bar. There was a pause before footsteps slowly walked forward. “You ok sweet cheeks? Hansen oughta give the rest of us a chance to be the knights for a change, maybe get a kiss from a pretty gal”. Tommy was a shameless flirt with good intentions, only ever using his lines to make women laugh or feel good about themselves. He was also aware of the unwanted advances you’d received and Lloyd’s subsequent antics.
Swallowing, you stood still and kept your eyes on Lloyd. “Lloyd was just giving a lesson about understanding what the word ‘no’ means”.
“Seems the lesson sunk in. I’m sure I can give him a recap”. You felt Tommy stop a few feet away. “Maybe I can get you an Angel shot when you’re finished with your shift, sweet cheeks? I know I missed the chance before”.
You knew Tommy was really asking if everything was under control with Lloyd by asking about the Angel shot while apologising that he had not been around the last time something had happened with another patron. Though you were more than grateful for Tommys offered assistance, Lloyd was no threat to you and him being arrested certainly wasn’t in your plans. “Not this time Tommy, I’m not in the mood tonight”.
“I appreciate your offer to help, Tommy”. Lloyds drawl had you sighing in relief. “But I’d never hurt my Moonshine. So why don’t you give Sunshine here the short version of what I said while we have a talk?” Lloyd’s grip never wavered as Tommy pulled the guy off the ground and led him away.
“Why’d you stop me? He had it coming” Lloyd pouted.
“He wasn’t worth it - you getting in trouble or beating him to a pulp”.
“He was hassling you, Moonshine. And you’re worth any trouble”. Lloyd tugged on your wrist to bring you against him, the hand holding your wrist moving to your back while the other moved to brush your cheek. “I heard him say that shit about bending you over… and about giving you the best fuck of your life”. Lloyds drawl had changed to a quiet rasp… the same rasp he used when he wanted to fuck you senseless, show his possessive side. You knew that the violence displayed tonight was nothing compared to Lloyd’s prior tactics used during his CIA days but the severity had caught you off guard. But what surprised you more was the fact you were turned on. A part of you loved him coming to your defence, something chivalrous yet primal about it made you melt. Seeing his eyes burn with jealousy, hearing his commanding rasp… you were caught up in his haze.
His hand slid down your back over the curve of your butt and squeezed. You gasped in surprise. “When he first said it, I wasn’t gonna let him see. I could’ve shot his dick off for saying that to you. But when I had him by the balls…” Lloyd chuckled darkly. “I wanted to show him who the best fuck of your life is. That nobody can do what I do”. Suddenly you found yourself pinned to the wall of the bar by six feet of pure male. “Lemme hear you say it”.
“You’re the best fuck of my life, Lloyd. Nobody can do what you can”. The brick was rough against your back but you ignored the feeling when consumed by Lloyd’s lips. You could taste the sweet candies he loved. It contrasted to the violence fuelling him. As he nipped at your neck, your hands reached into his hair and steered him back to your lips. He groaned and you sucked his tongue fiercely before biting his lip.
Cursing, Lloyd pulled away and spun you to face the wall. “Put your hands on the wall and push away”. As you moved, you could hear the sound of his zipper opening and a sound of material moving before his body caged yours. One hand moved the soaked crotch of your underwear aside as the other guided his leaking tip to your entrance. With one swift thrust he filled you. His hand covered your mouth before you could cry out. “Much as I’d love to prove a point to that asshole, I don’t wanna have to teach a lesson to Tommy or any others tonight. Keep quiet for me now and you’ll be screaming later on”. He began to move at a rapid pace. From the feel of his pants against your ass, he’d only pushed them down far enough to free his cock. His impatience thrilled you, spurred you to meet his thrusts. He shifted his position slightly, his thick hard cock rubbing at that sweet spot deep inside you. “So hot and wet… nobody can fuck you like I can. Nobody knows you like me… and nobody ever will”. The snarl became a whimper as you clenched hard around him.
“Fuck! Not gonna last much longer if you squeeze me like that, you’re gonna make me cum”.
“Please Lloyd. Fuck me. Cum for me” you begged, voice muffled by his hand.
Lloyds thrusts quickened as he brought you back against him, your head against his shoulder. The band in your belly tightened, tingles beginning to race through your body. You whimpered as you felt his cock jerk, filling you with his hot seed. Lloyd bit your neck to quiet his own release. The last bite of pain triggered your orgasm. Your legs wobbled as the pleasure crashed over you but Lloyd held you tight, groaning as your core trembled around him. He moved his hand from your mouth to your chin and turned your face before kissing you and carefully pulling out.
Panting, you watched as he tucked himself back into his pants looking far too pleased with himself. Cocky little shit. You shook your head in bemusement. “Guess I didn’t need my fuck-me heels after all” you teased.
“You never need those fuck-me heels” he smirked. “But I’d like you to wear them as I give you the fuck of your life. All night. Every night”. He steps close to you, eyes soft with love. “For the rest of your life”.
#smutty september fest 2024#indulge with chuckles#lloyd hansen x female reader#lloyd hansen smut#lloyd hansen fanfiction#chris evans characters
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went truly unhinged and wrote an entire fic summary of mafia!carcar @__@ special thanks to the good ppl over at the carcar discord <3
as usual I worked google's p*ssy tired to put together the details so pls ignore/handwave anything erroneous
Okay, so for regional specifications let’s say that Carlos has worked for years to be vouched for in the mafia. He’s actually a spy and in an extremely dangerous position - he was plucked from law school in Spain to be trained up in the intelligence agency and was assigned to Sicily due to his fluency in Italian. So even though he’s only 26, he’s already highly skilled and has been living and working full-time as a secret agent and translator - as well as liaison for the mafia - in Sicily for years already.
Oscar is fresh off his A-levels and touring Italy with lofty dreams of becoming a race engineer for Ferrari but assuming he’ll end up back in the UK in some bland office where he’ll hope to make enough money to go to F1 races - and maybe one day take his rightful place on that pit wall.
Palermo is at the very end of his trip before he flies back to London and he books a tour of the Norman Palace. He’s enjoying the fusion of cultures in the art and architecture, totally unaware that his name had been noticed by one of the palace’s administration when he’d bought the ticket a week before. An untraceable number of emails and messages had brought his existence to the attention of mafiosi who had until that moment assumed that particular royal line had died out.
They immediately scour what little exists of Oscar in the public domain and the even less available through government authorities (the boy is barely out of childhood and has done nothing of note except leaving his homeland to attend school in the UK and hasn’t even gotten so much as a speeding ticket). His social media however reveals a hunch that young Oscar is not unaffected by handsome men, possibly with a penchant for Spanish men in particular, and that he is an ardent Ferrari fanboy. A hastily put-together plot to snare the boy into the mafia by establishing him in his rightful royal position has all the promise of strengthening the mafia control of the region.
Meanwhile, many consiglieri have long been suspicious of Carlos and see this as an opportunity for him to commit his oath for good - or to see him and the Oscar boy easily disposed of if the Spaniard was discovered to be a rat. They will install Carlos as a translator for Ferrari and he will then claim that he is also on holiday in Palermo when he “bumps into” Oscar at the palace. As they are marveling at the Palatine Chapel’s interior and Carlos is using Ferrari and himself to work every charm at his disposal, a royal scholar with ties to the mafia will approach and inform them of his suspicion that Oscar is of royal descent. He will then ask them back to the University of Palermo to confirm his suspicions (which had of course already been confirmed). By that point, Oscar will have been successfully wooed by both Carlos and the promise of taking his rightful place as a prince, so that the mafia can insinuate themselves into his life and eventually his reign.
Only Carlos’ training can prevent his dismay from being revealed to his bosses as the plan is described to him, but he’s horrified at dragging some poor, unwitting kid into all the danger and ruthlessness of organized crime. He decides to defy his bosses back at the intelligence agency and play the long game of making Oscar his husband and strategizing at every turn to keep the boy alive and hopefully at some point extricate him back to his normal life - or at least into a witness protection program. Anything else would certainly risk Oscar’s life and even if Carlos hadn’t become fond of the kid from a distance, he still wouldn’t sacrifice him for a shorter route to cutting off an entire arm of organized crime.
The plan proceeds as expected, with Oscar dazzled and blushing over Carlos’ attentions and the royal scholar having approached them. It all suddenly goes awry when an overzealous nephew of a mafiosi - fresh off a 12-hour drug bender - infiltrates operations, taking Oscar hostage in the chapel and insisting that the government immediately recognize Oscar as royalty and that the church marry them there in the chapel. He then turns the gun to dispatch an unarmed Carlos, only to be knocked unconscious by Oscar wielding an antique censer.
The royal scholar - Andrea Stella - is a good man who now speaks urgently to Carlos in a peculiar coded language (they both have on wires) informing him that he knows of the mafia’s plans and that he too wants to see Oscar kept safe. Oscar surprises them by not only understanding the code but speaking it back - albeit brokenly - to them. The code is known only within the Ferrari elite and sounds identical to everyday Italian but with a sequenced pattern that carries a second meaning to every other word, something that amateur cryptography genius Oscar picks up on remarkably quickly.
Which is how Oscar learns that his claim to royal status is fully valid, his entanglement with the mafia is very real, but worst of all is that Carlos’ romantic interest in him was all a lie (or so he assumes).
The police and media attention that the hostage situation attracts results in the mafia’s plans proceeding as expected, except for all three men pivotal to their machinations being in cahoots to foil them. Oscar is granted status as a prince but without anointing or coronation by the church due to him taking Carlos for a husband. They are installed in a part of the palace now closed off to the public and begin their work ingratiating Oscar with said public and even winning them over to the idea of him being married to another man (Carlos not being Italian ends up being the biggest hurdle for them to get over). Oscar’s youth, beauty, shyness and sweet giggle work unexpected wonders, as does the promise of a return to all the regal romance of a pre-unified Italy while not actually returning to those times politically.
Carlos and Oscar have a tense private relationship because Oscar is nursing a wounded heart as well as a stubborn attraction and love for Carlos - while Carlos feels ashamed of having tried to seduce Oscar for duplicitous purposes and is also struggling with an intense attraction and growing affection for him. Andrea is the architect of their whole counter-strategy and is both the heart and the brains: the brains because he has lain in wait for decades for the right opportunity to destroy the mafia’s power, but also the heart because he sees Oscar as a son and can also see the misunderstandings going on between Oscar and Carlos.
Oscar is a complete surprise package in having an iron-clad poker face and an uncanny ability to remain calm even as his life is turned upside down that rivals seasoned operatives. He even manages to dupe his own family when they visit for the wedding. When Carlos asks how he can so easily lie to them about it all, Oscar levels him with “I could do anything just to keep them safe.” To which Carlos replies that he knows what Oscar means and raises Oscar’s hand to kiss over the ring he now wears as prince. Then he kisses Oscar at one of the highest points of the palace with Mount Etna visible in the distance.
They begin an all-consuming sexual affair that they both privately claim is beneficial to confirming their relationship to the mafia while conveniently remaining in denial of their real feelings. Carlos pours all of his into kissing every inch of Oscar’s pale skin until he’s pink all over, and Oscar puts all his aching heart into taking Carlos down his throat just out of view of the public or forcing Carlos to handle meetings while Oscar is crouched between his ankles. A few lowly messengers of the mafiosi bring back stories of hearing the prince’s cries punctuated with the banging of furniture against palace walls. Carlos can’t keep his hands off his pretty husband either in public or private conclave with “officials” who are really mafiosi under different titles.
Meanwhile, Oscar is still presumed by the mafia to be none the wiser about the criminal element of his reign and does such sleek work with his angelic face and adorably unassuming attitude that any lingering discussion of dispatching him is immediately shut down.
Which makes it all the more shocking four years later when a sudden mass assassination frames half the criminal element for the death of the other half and throws the whole of the syndicate in chaos that dissolves their control entirely. The ensuing months see Oscar, Carlos and Andrea sequestered - along with their court - inside the palace which is shut to the public amid fears of another hostage situation, while arrests and investigations take place.
Tensions across the city are high in the wake of the ensuing widely publicized trials and Oscar insists that a public appearance from him outside the palace would reassure and distract the public - and that it would solidify his position as more than seemingly ceremonial. The palace officials agree to the plan but as they are deciding on the security detail, Carlos realizes his presence alongside Oscar has not been mentioned.
Later that night in their bedchamber, Carlos raises his concern and states that he will be accompanying his husband during his appearance. Oscar attempts to shut him down by stating that Carlos would only represent a greater threat by seeming to taunt the mafia and encourage retribution.
They argue until Oscar calmly pulls rank, to which Carlos responds by kissing him fiercely and forcing him onto the bed. They desperately make love and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning, Carlos awakens in their room alone and with the sun at a suspicious slant through the windows. He realizes Oscar has stolen Carlos’ phone from its usual place by the bed to ensure that he slept in - clearly hoping Carlos would sleep through Oscar’s public appearance entirely. He realizes the little beast had baited him into fucking him so thoroughly that Carlos was exhausted and woke late.
He pulls on clothes and tears down the stairs to the courtyard with just enough time to compose himself and stand beside one of the guards. Oscar is stood out in front with the selected media in a semi-circle and an enormous crowd at barriers set further out, many of whom were calling out affection and support for their prince. He does not see that Carlos has joined them and proceeds with his speech.
Carlos spots the gun at the same time as the guard next to him, but it is aimed at Oscar and not himself.
As Etna smokes and rumbles in what will be called a mild yet deadly eruption in the distance, two shots are fired after Carlos and the guard wrap their bodies around Oscar and force him to safety. The remaining guards - and a few members of the public - detain the gunman (none too gently) and Carlos and Oscar are bundled back to their rooms and the guards take up position outside.
Inside their bedchamber, Oscar frantically paws at Carlos, wildly suspecting that he’s been shot and doesn’t realize it. He tugs Carlos’ jacket and shirt off and gives a heartbreaking cry of relief when he doesn’t see a single mark on his husband’s body.
Oscar breaks down at last, releasing four years of stress and anxiety in a gust of tears and collapsing in Carlos’ arms. He pours out how he had contrived the mass assassination plan mere months after his life was altered forever in the Palatine Chapel - how he brought Andrea into it to help him with things like the details and movements of mafia members, members who would be willing to work against the family and the risk to innocents, even down to developing a seemingly arbitrary fascination with volcanology so that he could be made aware of Etna’s activity far enough in advance to take the admittedly wild final gambit of disposing the remaining members by having them conveniently perish in Etna’s next eruption. He realized that while conspiring half the local mafia against the larger organization would result in a certain amount of mutually assured destruction, as well as concealing forever Oscar’s role in it, he would have some stragglers to deal with who could regroup in retribution. A suggestion was therefore sent down via Oscar’s court officials to the police loyal to the palace, and then to remaining criminals-at-large (also those with the bloodiest histories in the mafia) of escaping arrest by scaling the crater during a period of high activity and therefore remaining undetected by officials, guides and the public. Their treacherous expedition was promised to take them to the other side of the volcano and then to the coast where boats and new identities would take them from their troubles.
Oscar had reasoned that if Etna hadn’t taken them then their desire for escaping arrest would scatter them and effectively extinguish their power hopefully forever. Andrea had marveled at Oscar’s command over strategizing the whole plan mostly by himself and said that Ferrari would mourn missing out on hiring him if they knew what he was capable of.
Carlos cradles Oscar on the carpet, kissing his sweat-cold brow and begging to know why Oscar didn’t include Carlos in the plan? Does he still not trust him after all this time? Because if so then he wishes the bullet had found him and put an end to playing husband to the man he loves but who will never love him in return.
Oscar looks up into his eyes with a face full of wonder and brings a hand up to lovingly stroke Carlos’ cheek. Because he kept Carlos out of it precisely so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid like sacrifice himself and ruin Oscar’s hopes that when his plan was finished, perhaps they could start over and he could make Carlos love him the way he loves Carlos.
For the first time, they kiss knowing their love is mutual. And while they realize their positions will always involve some element of danger and their lives will never be “normal”, they admit that they’d never choose any other life if it meant not being together.
ENDITO!
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Today all you have to do to secure a home in a place, say like Edinburgh is to simply connect with the best estate agents in Edinburgh and everything else from there is smooth sailing.
#best Estate Agents#best Letting agents UK#commercial agent#commercial agents Edinburgh#commercial estate agent#commercial estate agents Edinburgh#Commercial Property#commercial property agent#commercial property agent Edinburgh#Edinburgh Estate Agents#estate agency#estate agency Edinburgh#estate agency UK#Estate Agent Edinburgh#estate agents#letting Agents UK#top 10 property agents
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Long Post... But Very Important 👇
HISTORY OF THE US NESARA LAW:
· NESARA was signed into law by President William Jefferson Clinton in 2000, at gunpoint because the Military forced him to sign it. He wasn't going to, and was to be announced by Alan Greenspan on Sept. 11, 2001, at 10:00am.
· This was prevented by the destruction of the World Trade Center by then President George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and others involved with this great deception. They murdered 7,000 innocent Americans that day and stole billions in Gold and Silver from Building 7.
· In early 1993, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on charges by the Farmer's Union that banks in the U.S. were fraudulently foreclosing on farm mortgages and that the U.S. Government was in collusion with these banks. The testimony and proof brought into court by a retired CIA Agent let to further evidence and proof that Farmer's Union claims were legitimate. It also led to evidence that the 16th Amendment, the Income Tax Amendment, was never properly ratified by the required number of states and therefore, declared that income taxes were unlawful.
· Almost unanimously the U.S. Supreme Court Justices ruled in favor of Farmer's Union. The Justices recognized that overwhelming evidence proved the U.S. Government and the Federal Reserve Banking System were perpetrating FRAUD in many ways upon Americans. The Justices recognized that to remedy this situation, massive reformations would be required. When rulings were made by the U.S. Supreme Court, one or more of the justices are assigned to monitor the process by which rulings are carried out.
· In this case, five of the Justices were assigned to a committee to develop steps to implement the required governmental and banking reformations. As the Justices went about developing the changes, they enlisted the help of experts in Economics, Monetary Systems, Banking, Constitutional Law and other areas. They built coalitions of support and assistance with thousands of people worldwide, working with us to bring NESARA and GESARA to fruition. These people were called the "White Knights". The term "White Knights" was borrowed from the world of big business when a vulnerable company is "rescued" from a hostile takeover.
· Because of the enormously sweeping changes the rulings by the U.S. Supreme Court required, an EXTREMELY STRICT gag order was put in place on everyone involved. The Justices also sealed all records on the case until after the reformations are all accomplished.
· To maintain secrecy, the case details for the docket number assigned to the Farmer's Union case were changed. So, doing a search for this case will fail to reflect the correct information until after the reformations are made public. At every step of the process, anyone directly involved has been required to sign an NDA to keep the process of implementing the required reformations "Secret" or face charges of Treason which are punishable by death.
· To implement the reformations, the five justices spent years negotiating how the reformations would occur in agreements called "accords" with the U.S. Government, with Federal Reserve Bank owners, the IMF, World Bank, and numerous countries including the UK and the EU.
· The reformations required the Federal Reserve Bank system to be absorbed by the U.S. Treasury and all fraudulent banking activities to be stopped, as well as remedies to Americans for past harm due to FRAUD.
· The U.S. Banking reformations will impact the entire world and therefore the IMF, World Bank and other countries involved including the UK and the Vatican City.
· Members of Congress were ordered by U.S. Supreme Court to "DENY" the existence of NESARA / GESARA or face charges of TREASON, punishable by DEATH. Some members of Congress were charged with "Obstruction" and threatened with charges of TREASON. Therefore, all members of U.S. Congress have had to pretend that NESARA has not been passed in order to comply with the Justice's GAG ORDER.
O. SAT. 3 AUGUST 2024 NESARA GESARA REFORMATIONS:
· NESARA / GESARA is the most groundbreaking reformations to sweep the world in the entire history of the world.
· All foreigners will be required to return home in order for them to receive their GESARA Payments.
NESARA DOES THE FOLLOWING: 👇
a. Zero's out all Credit Card, Mortgage and other bank and loan transaction debts.
b. Abolishes the Internal Revenue Service and the Income Tax.
c. IRS employees will be transferred to the US Treasury National Sales Tax area.
d. The Federal Reserve will be absorbed into the US Treasury.
e. Creates a 14% - 17% National Sales Tax, applied to NEW ITEMS only for government revenue. Some of it goes to states, rest to new national government.
f. Used items sold will not be taxed. Food & Medicines will not be taxed.
g. Sets up Restitution Payments for those victimized by Chattel Property Bonds. Those Aged 61 and over will receive a lump sum payment. Those Aged 41 to 60 will receive scheduled payments set time and sign work contract. Those Aged 29-40 will have to sign a Work Contract to receive their funds. Initiates a Universal Basic Income or UBI for those 16-29 years old.
h. An increase for retired Senior Citizens up to 3x current SSN amount up to $5,000.00
i. Dissolves US Inc. and returns the country to 1791 Constitution and Common Law.
J. Admiralty-Equity & Civil Laws are dissolved. Judges & Lawyers will be retrained in Constitutional Law.
k. Restores the Original 13th Amendment known as the Titles of Nobility Amendment.
l. Requires that New Presidential and Congressional Elections occur within 120 days.
m. Monitors Elections and prevents illegal election activities of everyone.
n. Creates a new US Treasury Rainbow Currency that is Asset Backed.
o. Forbids the sale of American Birth Certificates as chattel property bonds.
p. Initiates a new US Treasury Banking System in alignment with Constitutional Law.
q. Restores Personal Financial Privacy.
r. Ceases All Military Activities Worldwide.
s. Establishes World Peace.
t. Releases enormous sums of money to be used for Humanitarian Purposes.
u. Enables the release of over 6,000 patents of suppressed technologies including free energy devices, anti-gravity and medical bed technologies.
THE RODRIGUEZ TRUST REDEMPTION AND EXCHANGE FUNDING PROGRAM: 👇
· The Rodriguez Trust, based in the Philippines, is reportedly over 100 years old. It is claimed to be the single largest source of funds in the world.
· Dr. Alan Cohler is said to be the asset manager of the trust. The trust is backed by gold, some of which is said to come from King Solomon’s Temple.
· However, these claims are often associated with spiritual and metaphysical beliefs, and their validity is not universally accepted. For definitive information, legal consultation is recommended.
· The value of both the St. Germain and Rodriguez Trusts have 3083 zeros behind them.
The "New Earth" is near 🤔
#pay attention#educate yourselves#educate yourself#knowledge is power#reeducate yourself#reeducate yourselves#think about it#think for yourselves#think for yourself#do your homework#do your own research#do some research#do your research#ask yourself questions#question everything#nesara#new earth#new life#coming soon
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Estate Agents in Stanmore: Expert Property Services with Empire Chase
Introduction
Stanmore, a picturesque suburban area located in the London Borough of Harrow, offers an attractive blend of leafy green spaces, excellent schools, and fantastic transport links to Central London. Whether you're looking for a family home, an investment property, or a rental, the Stanmore property market has something to offer. As trusted estate agents in Stanmore, Empire Chase is here to provide the expert guidance you need to make the right decisions.
Why Choose Empire Chase as Your Estate Agent in Stanmore?
Empire Chase has earned its reputation as one of the leading estate agents Stanmore. Our dedicated team of professionals is well-versed in the local property market and committed to offering exceptional service to our clients. Here’s why we should be your first choice when it comes to buying, selling, or renting property in Stanmore:
Extensive Local Knowledge
Our team has in-depth knowledge of the Stanmore area, from its diverse housing market to the best schools and amenities. Whether you're looking to buy a home close to transport links or want a peaceful residential area, we can help you find the perfect location in Stanmore.
Tailored Approach to Meet Your Needs
At Empire Chase, we understand that no two clients are the same. That’s why we offer a tailored approach to meet your unique needs and preferences. Whether you’re a first-time buyer, a seasoned investor, or a tenant searching for a new place to live, we’ll work with you every step of the way to achieve your property goals.
Strong Negotiation Skills
Our team of estate agents is skilled in negotiating the best possible deals for our clients. Whether you’re buying, selling, or renting, our strong negotiation skills ensure you get the most value from your transaction. We understand market conditions and use this knowledge to secure favourable terms.
Key Benefits of Working with Empire Chase
Local Expertise: Deep understanding of Stanmore’s property market, with access to the best properties available.
Personalised Services: Tailored solutions to match your specific needs, ensuring a seamless property journey.
Experienced Negotiators: Skilled negotiators who work hard to get you the best price, whether you're buying or selling.
Full Support: From start to finish, our team offers full support through every step of your property journey.
Conclusion
Empire Chase is your trusted partner in the Stanmore property market. Whether you're looking to buy, sell, or rent, our team offers expert advice, personalised services, and strong negotiation skills to help you achieve your property goals. With our deep local knowledge and commitment to customer satisfaction, we ensure a smooth and successful transaction every time. Contact Empire Chase today to begin your property journey in Stanmore!
#Estate Agents Stanmore#empirechase#Houses for Sale in England#UK Property for Sale#Letting Agents in Harrow#Real Estate Companies in London
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- YOU’RE MINE -
Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)
INDEX
Chapter 19 - ‘You’re Mine’
You were not as hopeless as your inner dialogue made you sound. You missed Trent so much your little heart hurt but you could live. You were busy with an array of things, you had gotten really active in local charities in Liverpool and initiatives especially Trent’s latest project launch. You had a degree from university that you didn’t really share with a lot of people around you but Trent obviously knew about it so your skill set came in handy. With the spare time you had you reached out to some contacts from your previous jobs you had put on hold back in New York. At the time you met Trent you were taking a little hiatus to just decompress. You were privileged enough to do that and well aware that is not something everyone could have the luxury of doing so once you got settled in England you started to connect with brands you worked with in the US that had UK offices. You got back into work freelance writing and styling. Your career before was in Fashion Editorial so it was an easy transition to get back into the swing of things. It made you feel better you were able to have a life outside of being Trent’s number one fan, even though that often was your favorite thing to be occupied with. Thankfully the two, Trent and work, were kept separated for the moment.
Before the tournament actually began you found that the little T- Bear Trent left for you just seemed to be with you 24/7. Tucked in bed with you every night, snuggled up on the couch watching television and as wonderful as that was, there was a certain part that this ‘T’ wasn’t able to… how do you put this… fulfill.
You were just about to whine down from the day but your hair and makeup were still done so you decided to take a few cheeky photos. A client, Agent Provocateur, a brand you adored, from an editorial piece you had worked on recently with them had gifted you some pieces of gorgeous lingerie. So you put on a little pink satin trimmed lace bra with a matching thong. The goal was to entice Trent obviously, but aside from that this set was making you feel confident which you seemed to be struggling with lately. You took some photos with the whole set on, some taking it off, some with it barely serving any purpose all while holding your new little bear. It was an incredibly sweet concept but far from innocent. You picked your favorites, ones you knew showed off things he’d enjoy so you sent them in a text unsolicited and unprovoked as you tucked into bed for the night. The little ‘delivered’ popped up under the sent photos and it quickly turned to ‘read.’ You knew he’d be excited to see them but there was always a little part of you that worried about how you actually looked in them, if he’d like them, and then of course about the potential consequences of sending such explicit photos when he’s at ‘work’ so you held your breath. He started to type and the three dots in the bubble appeared but stopped, started again only to disappear once again. The brief moment of confidence you had built started to waver. While you laid in your bed, a little disheartened, you put your phone far away from you to try to forget the situation until you heard the familiar ring of an incoming FaceTime.
“You’re such a tease, baby.” Trent rolled his perfect plump lips into a pout shaking his head but couldn’t really hold back the lustful grin he was really expressing. “I have training early tomorrow and you got me so fucking hard I can’t possibly get to sleep now.” He groaned. You sighed in relief that he did in fact really like your pictures.
“I’m sorry, T. I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just trying some things on and I thought you’d want to see. I didn’t mean to disrupt your night.” You feigned an apology playing coy.
“Nah, nah, nah you got me all worked up, miles away, sending me something I can’t have right now. You’re staying on the phone right now, helping me with this.” He sounded so commanding and it turned you on instantly.
“What can I help with, baby? To help, do you need me to keep this on or take it off?” You pulled the bra strap off your body to let it snap back against your skin.
“I wanna see more of you, beautiful. Take that off…Save that for when I can rip it off you myself and put your phone somewhere. I need to see all of you.” He instructed you so you leaned back against your headboard in front of your now propped up phone.
“This okay?” You asked craving his approval.
“Yeah, baby, just like that. You wanna spread your legs for me? Show me how wet you are.” He confirmed that was what he wanted to see. He began to stroke his cock from the tip to the base. His command had you stifling a moan.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. I miss you so much, T” you whimpered waiting for instructions till he asked for you to touch your clit, and then slowly slide your fingers into yourself. Just watching his cock get harder, hearing him pant on the other side of your phone had you inching closer to your release.
“Keep fucking that pussy,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that, little faster, baby. Use your other hand and rub that clit again. Tell me how much you miss my cock.” His words had you crumbling. It was a cross between complete desperation, lust, and absence.
“I mi-miss it. I want your cock to fuck me, please. Ple..please I need your cock, T.” You whined. The tension and pressure released all at once causing you to whimper louder as waves of pleasure rippled through you. Your fingers coated in your slick. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, Trent repeatedly moaning your name as ropes of his cum spurted from his cock covering his abs. When you both came to, you smiled and wiggled in your bed giggling with him happy to feel the release but also to have achieved making him feel good from miles away.
“Fuck, that was so hot, you’re so beautiful, baby.” Trent said, laughing a little more while he cleaned himself up.
“I love you. Miss having you here with me so much.” You pouted. “Going to be able to sleep now?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be okay now, thank you.” He chuckled. “I’ll be saving those pictures though, I might need them till I get you back.”
“Yeah, yeah but I think a call may be a little more mutually beneficial.” You giggled. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Love you, pretty girl. Miss you so much. Night.” Pushing his lips out for a virtual kiss before he hung up the phone.
A week later and many similar FaceTimes, you and Dianne were going to the Euro’s. You were traveling for the first match of the tournament. You and Dianne had a great relationship. You had essentially become like a daughter. She spoiled you, she always defended you against the boys teasing, you spent a lot of time shopping together or sitting pitch side. You appreciated her so much for all she did for you since you arrived in Liverpool and loved the idea of a little trip together. You checked into a lovely hotel and settled into your separate rooms but planned to meet up for a breakfast in the morning before you headed off for the stadium tomorrow.
It was the opening match of the group stage and the place was buzzing. You hadn’t seen England play in a big tournament like this yet as Trent’s girlfriend so you didn’t really know what to expect. You hoped you had adapted to life as a ‘wag’ at Liverpool but this was a whole new lot. You had made friends with a few girls you’d met at international friendly matches, the boys you knew on the team, and were excited to be able to see some girls from Liverpool whose partners were playing for other countries. That said as much as you had watched the Euros countless times before, to be there felt so strange. Thank god Dianne was with you. You both had opted to match in Alexander-Arnold white England kit shirts. You kept your outfit pretty casual not wanting to draw too much attention given the mayhem that seemed to be ensuing lately with your every move relatively near a football pitch. ‘Casual’ is all relative though when you are a little bit of a fashion girly so; you paired T’s jersey with R13 Crossover denim shorts, white and gray Prada ‘Downtown’ sneakers, a Mui Mui gray fleece hoodie in case you got cold, your new, very sweetly gifted, navy Dior saddle bag and what felt like just about every piece of gold jewelry you owned; you’d be remiss to not be wearing your prized possession; the white gold diamond Van Clef necklace Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. That was always going to be on and the myriad of other little bits and bobs of jewelry he'd given you over time. You liked the look, it felt authentically you: low key but if you looked close enough the finer details told another story and you liked that.
You promised Dianne you’d help up her ‘MaG’ match day fits. You two had started an inside joke considering you were Mum and Girlfriend for Trent in the stands. It was cute and you were elated to help. Outside the stadium, you stopped a girl around your age to take a photo for you with Dianne to keep for a memory and you got that special photo but it also transgressed into plenty of questions because the girl was a fan which was sweet but in turn the exchange was shared to your least favorite part of the internet lately… social football gossip pages.
‘Okay, ICL, Trent Alexander-Arnold’s mum and his presumed girlfriend holding hands walking into the stadium was precious. The mystery girl is definitely no mystery to the fam’
The girl who kindly took a photo for you outside the stadium had also shared with a fan page another photo she had taken unsolicited as you walked away with Dianne.
Dianne held onto your hand still as you walked through the corridors of the stadium while masses of people swirled around you. It was insane. Complete chaos. A familiar chaos, but chaos nonetheless. England had a strong team this year and people were excited to say the least. You made it to your seats and your heart filled with relief seeing the tan skinned pretty pretty boy, smiling beaming, warming up ahead of the match. You leaned onto Diane’s shoulder in repose.
“It’s the best feeling in the world seeing him happy doing what he loves.” Leaning her head on top of yours.
“I know, I feel lucky I get to witness it. Even just to be a small part of the whole experience.”
“Hun, you’re a big part. Things changed when you came to England for him. He’s emotionally never been in a better place.” She cooed.
“I hope so, I just want to be there for him as much as I can. I try not to let my emotions ever sway his, like when I miss him. I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long.” You joked a little because you referring to ‘so long’ was really in reference to from birth to this very moment and having to share her son globally.
“One thing I always know, he does miss us when he’s away. He doesn’t need to tell us but you know he will always, even as focused as he is for work. More specifically, he misses you sweetheart…so much.” She placed a kiss on head. “You make that boy's life outside of all this so much better for him. Easier, happier, calmer, healthier, I could go on… so thank you hun.” Her words had your heart bursting. You always had an open relationship but to get such a verbal confirmation felt really nice.
When a Trent fan account finally published the photo of you and Dianne walking into the stadium together the response was different to the usual wrath of hate you’d receive from the public on the likes of gossip news sites. Instead these fans were enthused by the sighting. Commenting…
‘I feel like she’s probably super sweet if she’s that close with his mum’
‘Seeing her with his family makes me feel like she’s actually a serious girlfriend’
‘Okay, ngl, she actually looks too cool for him lol’
‘Matching with his mum is so precious’
‘Imagine Trent being your boyfriend 😭’
‘She’s with his mum 🥺’
You couldn’t have asked for a better opening match. England dominated and Trent got a decent amount of minutes and during his time on the pitch he managed to assist Bukaya for an unbelievable goal. It was just icing on the cake to see him after a couple weeks, have the result go their way, and to have him play well. When the final whistle blew it was such a special feeling being surrounded by people who all felt just the same as you. It was a big family just supporting boys that had worked so tirelessly to get here, to represent their country. When the team had wrapped up some post match duties they were able to come over to the stands to meet up with their families after the stadium had cleared out. Trent walked over with a smile that made your heart melt. You leaned over the railing to give him the biggest kiss. His arms reached up to grab your face, yours falling around his neck. You both hummed at the satisfaction of being back together. The kiss felt like fireworks for you, your whole body ignited feeling his lips on yours. Trent’s body on the other hand fell into complete comfort and relaxation soothed by your touch.
“Missed you so much, baby.” He whispered his lips ghosting over yours.
“My T” you giggled, pressing one more peck before pulling apart.
“Lemme climb on up, pretty girl.” He needed to get off the pitch over into the stands so he did haphazardly because his body was exhausted.
“You were amazing, sweetie. So proud of you Trenty.” Dianne cooed, giving him a big tight hug. Diane stayed standing but Trent collapsed onto a seat in the stands burnt out.
“T, honestly so good. You were incredible.” Leaning over to give him another kiss. You sat next to him and he wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his head onto your shoulder. He pressed light kisses to it and you did the same to his temple. Dianne stood there talking to you both about the match before going over to talk to Jude Bellingham’s mum, Denise, after spotting her now the match had finished. With the idea of being alone with you, despite being surrounded by friends, family and teammates, Trent sprawled out across a row of seats and laid his head in your lap. You caressed his face and played with his hair while you two gushed about how much you missed each other. He was practically stuck to you. He couldn’t pull his hands or lips off your skin if he tried. Kissing your wrists as they moved over his face, pulling your face down for proper kisses every once in a while, purring as your nails scratched his scalp.
“Trent, come here quick.” Dianne yelled for him evoking a disgruntled face on the boy who had gotten quite comfortable back under your touch. So he stood up and made his way over to talk to the two mums. Despite telling him you’d stay put, he dragged you with him, pushing you in front of him while his hands wrapped around your waist. He kept his chin on your shoulder listening to his mum while his idle fingers played with the belt loops of your shorts. You introduced yourself to Denise who was as kind as her sons were. You’d met and spent a lot of time with both her boys since you moved to England, knowing how polite they were, it made sense she’d be that way as well.
“Going to do a lunch after the group stage with them, five of us, yeah?” Dianne was informing you and Trent about a plan she and Denise had made to go out before the England Team were hosting a little party for all the families.
“That sounds lovely!” You cheerfully smiled liking the idea of getting time together away from other than just seeing the boys from a distance on the pitch. Trent didn’t say anything, he just smiled seeing you smile. He missed the way your cheeks warmed when you did. Jude waddled his way up the stairs of the seats sore from the game coming up to you all, first giving a hug and kiss to his mum, then to Diane and then looked at you, smiled, and then rolled his eyes at Trent who was lost still gazing at you.
“Gonna let go for a minute so we can all say hello?” Jude joked removing Trent’s hands stuck to your body.
“Hi Judey” you giggled giving him a big hug. Lately he and Trent were together most of the time when league play was suspended for breaks and he found himself back in England so you had gotten close. He was coming on your holiday after the tournament. The holiday had funnily become a little bit of a boys trip that included you and your best friend, but moreover Trent obviously, Marcel was coming, Jude, and Jobe, his brother, had decided to tag along, and then a few other boys. You didn’t mind but it was a little comical now. Jude could sense the humor in it and knew your relationship well enough that you just were dying to be laying on the beach with Trent, alone, unbothered, but that more than likely wouldn’t be the case now.
“All good? Ready for this to be over?” You pulled out of his hug rolling your eyes at his comment as he sat down in front of you leaning on the back of a seat a row below you.
“What do you mean! Very excited to be here for the next two weeks” you beamed sarcastically.
“It worries me how good you are at lying. It’s unsettling for my brother” he shoved at your shoulder while glancing at Trent.
“No, seriously! I am actually really excited. This is amazing though. You played so well, lucky to be supporting England.” You clarified.
“Yeah, just don’t open your mouth too much and you might pass as one of us.” Jude teased about your accent but was quickly reprimanded by Denise. She scolded Jude telling him to be nicer and you just smiled relishing in the mum's protection over you.
The boys had to go back to the dressing room after getting to say hello which was bittersweet and came all too quickly. Luckily in a few days time they’d be out of the group stages and would have a few days off so you could see Trent then but right now you had to say bye.
“Call me tonight?” You cooed, draping your arms around Trent’s neck, his arms coming to drop low on your waist pulling his jersey you had on up to caress your skin, dipping his hands into your shorts slyly.
“Course, baby. I’m just so glad you’re here.” He whispered, pulling your body a little closer to his pushing his hips into you.
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, T.” You quietly said back pressing your nose against his.
“Love you, beautiful” he said with a little peck to your lips.
“I love you.” You sealed with another kiss. Your focus only on each other.
“Honestly, enough. I’m going without you.” Jude dramatically but in, hitting Trent’s arm before proceeding to stand up. Trent said goodbye to the mums, and you again with another swift but sweet kiss and a sneaky squeeze to your ass cheek before hurrying after Jude. He turned and winked at you before disappearing down the tunnel.
Later that evening, the England Instagram account posted a carousel of families reuniting after the first win of the tournament. None directly featured you, Diane or Trent but behind a photo posted of the Bellingham family were you and Trent having a cuddle while sharing a sweet kiss. There definitely was a fair share of comments who caught the affectionate interaction. In turn, cropped images of the photo, zooming in on you two, blew up all over socials again,
‘They’re not even trying anymore lol’
‘I’m happy for them 🥹’
‘Trent, I don’t need to see you cheating on me like this’
‘To kiss that sweaty man, I’d die’
‘Still just avoiding cameras, like fam, we know your together lol’
You and Diane continued going to the remaining group stage matches with England performing well. Trent even bagging a goal so the brief moments seeing him after the games were just so special. Being so close but unable to properly be alone and cuddle or kiss was slightly driving you both insane. So you spent the nights apart FaceTiming only mere hotels, short distances apart. Trent would vent about the games and you listened intently trying your best to not add unnecessary additions to the already noisy commentary he was surrounded by, you’d joke around, if there wasn’t a game directly the following day, things would get a little steamier on the call but overall you just repeated how much you missed being back at home together. More often than not you two just stayed on the phone till you both fell asleep making one of you wake up hours later and having to end the call that had been ongoing for hours of just your sleeping faces lit by phone screens.
As expected the England team finished top of their group so they were to have a few days off before the knockout stage began which meant you got to spend some time with your T. He did have to go to a short morning training session after last night's game but he was coming to meet you and his mum at your hotel to see you both after. You always grappled with sharing Trent but his mom was an exception, she deserved all his time and attention so you were hoping for a little sliver. He met you later in the day after the training session in a tea room of the hotel you and Dianne were staying at and joined you for brunch. Somehow if it was even possible, Trent walked in and looked even more beautiful than he ever did. He seemed to have that effect on you. It didn’t matter if it had been 5 minutes when he’d walk to the kitchen and back or days since you last saw him but when he’d return he somehow looked even more handsome than before. His mum stayed seated and she gave him a little side hug. You opted to stand up to give him a tight hug, you missed his warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and his familiar amber smell engulfed you. You could’ve stayed there forever. You kissed his neck gently, subtly, and quietly to keep it hidden from his mum but Trent wasn’t having that.
“Erm…I’d like a proper kiss, beautiful.” He beamed with a big smile, his lips pushing out waiting for you. His hands slid up from around your waist to hold both your cheeks. He placed a heart stopping kiss on your lips and you felt your legs almost give out. He was like a dream all the time. You finally sat and had a nice little meal filled with conversation more so about what was happening back at home than football, he wanted the break from the intensity. When Dianne excused herself to run to the restroom, Trent pulled your chair a little closer to his. He placed another kiss on your cheek.
“What’d you doing, pretty boy?” You cooed, unable to hide the smile he was pulling from you and the flush rising in your cheeks smitten by his flirty move.
“Wanna be closer to my girl” his hand came and wrapped around the back of your neck stroking his thumb over your exposed skin. In your Trents true fashion he had shown up with a little gift for you. “Got you a little something, baby.”
“T!! You don’t always have to do this!” You quipped in feigned annoyance. You gestured to the Dior Saddle bag you were using today again but it still always was a little exciting “I don’t need anything. I just need this.” You said, moving your hand over his resting on his leg, playing with each of his fingers slowly. It was true, just being close to him was enough for you but nevertheless he pulled out a little box.
“Just so you don’t forget where you’re loyaly lies on match days, yeah?” You opened the little jewelry box that had a Monica Rich Kosann locket that opened with two little pictures; one of you and T hugging in the tunnel at Anfield in his Liverpool kit, the other of you and him sharing a cute kiss in his England uniform. It just made you melt. He was so thoughtful and cute. “I know you're technically only half American but don’t you forget whose you are, beautiful. You’re all mine.”
“I’m pretty sure I know who I’ll be rooting for always. Always yours.” You said giggling, “but thank you, baby. I love it and I love you” leaning your head on his shoulder nuzzling into that familiar smell as his arm wrapped around you. He pressed light kisses on your head while you whispered little mushy things back and forth. When Dianne returned she smiled entering the main room seeing that her departure caused your chairs to move inexplicably closer. She liked to see that her very reserved boy found someone to be so comfortable, protective, confident and unequivocally in love with. She sat back down but it wasn’t long until she excused herself again.
“I need a little rest, a shower, and some time to get ready for tonight to keep up my ‘MaG’ looks so I’m going to head up.” She stood up from the table, placing her napkin down, pushing her chair in and placing her hand gently on yours briefly.
“MaG?” Trent questioned, looking between you and his mum for some context on the inside joke he was clearly left out of.
“Don’t worry about it” you laughed in Dianne’s direction telling her if she needed you to text you but she just wanted to let you and Trent to spend some time alone together.
“Thank you hun!” She kissed Trent’s head and squeezed your arm. “I’ll see you both a little later on before we meet with Denise and her boys.” You said your goodbyes but you stayed a little longer cuddled up as close as you can be in a restaurant setting picking at little sandwiches and sweets. Eventually, Trent and you finally left and went up to your room where he dramatically crashed on the bed, rushing to get under the covers like a little boy because he was ‘so tired.’
“T! T! Shoes! Gross!” You squealed, pulling at his arms to get him out and off your freshly cleaned hotel bedding.
“Wowwwww already asking me to take my clothes off. Eager much, baby?” He teased starting to get out of the bed begrudgingly.
“No…no, well” you blushed at his words. “I wouldn’t complain but I just meant if you could not get my bed all dirty I would appreciate it” you gave a genuine smile and a sweet giggle that made his heart falter.
“So you don’t want to be dirty in bed?” he sat up on the bed with a cheeky and devious smile, his legs hung off the side and he held his arms out for you. You moved over and stood between his legs, his hands caressed up your back pulling your shirt up with them, “With me? Not even me baby?” He gave you a look that made you cave immediately. You let him pull your shirt off over your head and after he did your hands reached out to pull his off.
“I missed this body. You’re so fucking beautiful. Been dreaming of this.” He said, dragging the strap of your bra down off your shoulder.
“Dreaming of what, T? What do you need?” You cooed with a sly smirk as your hands played with the waistband of the skirt you still had on.
“I need all of this…” sliding the mini skirt down your legs. “off right now.” He said gently, his words dripping like honey, his hands moving in slow motion. Making your skin burn.
You were standing in front of him completely naked now. He sat back resting on his arms behind him on the bed. The hotel room light cast over you illuminating the dips of your collarbones, highlighting the rise of your tits, the smoothness of your skin. Trent stared in awe just about drooling over his girl.
“Baby, I’m gonna need you here right now.” He said pulling your waist towards him. You sat with your legs on both sides of his and straddled him, feeling his prominent bulge growing harder and harder beneath your wet core.
“And I’m going to need these off, T.” You said pulling off his trousers. In quick motions all clothing was removed, Trent had flipped you over to be on top of you making out passionately, whispers and gasps of ‘I love you’ and ‘missed this so much’ muddled in between messy, sloppy, yearning kisses. You spit a little on your hand and gently gilded it up and down the length of his cock. His fingers slid between your folds gathering your wetness to play with your clit while he dipped two in to help stretch you out.
“Shit, that feels so good, sh-shit, I’m not gonna last very long, it's been a while without you. You’re so fucking tight” Trent was panting, losing focus at just the feeling of you.
“Baby, I need you so bad, can we just ju-just. Please I miss you so much T.” You were moaning as his languid fingers circled your clit begging for him to fuck you. His mouth nipped down your neck before his tongue circled and licked around your hard nipples eliciting a whimper of pleasure from you.
“Yeah, yeah, sweet girl. I’m gonna give you whatever you need.” He groaned. In swift motions he slowly aligned his cock with your core and slid into you. You both gasped at the contact. He moved slowly inch by inch but he just wanted to get as deep as possible. He missed this feeling like nothing else. His thick cock hit your g spot almost immediately once he was in. He felt so deep and the stretch of him being back inside you had your mind turn to complete mush. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans. “You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said hearing the sounds of your slick as he dragged his cock slowly out of you and watched himself push all the way back thrusting harder. Your legs wrapped around him. You were whining in pleasure. Your lips parted gasping at the sensation of him. You both were moaning inexplicable phrases of praise, love, and adoration. You were completely obsessed with each other and how good the sex was only amplified it.
“Oh my fu-fucking god, T, you feel so good.” You felt tears fill your lash line. His cock rammed deep inside you again and again, hitting a spot only he knew, while his finger pressed rough circles around your clit. He dipped his head a little and played with your nipples more, pulling at them and biting. You could barely handle the sensory overload so you bit harshly onto his shoulder to try to quiet your moans.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so perfect for me. Taking me so well.” He growled moving to nibble at your ear, his hot breath on your skin had your orgasm approaching faster and faster. He pulled back nearly all the way out and hammered back in. Tears started to roll down your cheek. Your arms wrapped around his body so tight your nails were digging into his skin leaving deep crescent marks while Trent continued to fuck you at an inhuman pace.
“I missed you, I missed this. You feel so fucking good. I want this forever.” You babled as your legs started to tremble. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him moan your name again, again, and again.
You were getting lost in the pleasure that your T was giving to you while he was just as infatuated by your body and the sounds you were making had him fighting to not cum without you getting to orgasm first.
“You have me forever.” He whispered barely getting the words out softly in your ear. In a split second you felt your pussy spasm at the tenderness of his words and his rough strokes. You soaked his cock completely when you felt his release fill you up so much, it began to seep out while he was still inside. He laid on top of you for a while before he spoke again.
“I’m so addicted to you, beautiful. Can’t be away from you like this.” He murmured laying on your chest completely exhausted
“I guess we’re both addicts then” you giggled tracing your fingers up his spine. He continued laying there just holding you. You kissed him slowly. You were both so tired in the hotel room. “My sleepy, sleepy, needy boy.” You cooed, pressing your lips on his warm skin. You were so authentic with each other. Being back together felt like a saccharine summertime daydream. Feeling your New York daydream turned into your reality. Your love was undiluted, nothing felt better than being physically connected like this .
“We have to go soon, baby.” Trent finally picked his head up to nuzzle into your neck placing kisses all over your skin. If you could bottle this feeling forever you would, it was worth more than its weight in gold.
“I just want another cuddle, pleaseee” you whined childishly and in turned caused Trent to just let all his body weigh on top of you and wrap his arms so tight around you thought you couldn't breathe but the sound of his joyful laugh had you able to completely disregard the bone crushing pressure and just relish in the moment. You wanted to hear him happy, you wanted to see that beautiful smile pull across his face, the smile lines wrinkle, his little dimples appear so you let it ensue. Eventually you both got up and started to get dressed to meet with the Bellinghams; Denise, Jude, and Jobe at the restaurant and to meet Dianne downstairs at the hotel.
Trent needed to shower but you opted not to because your hair would take too long to do if you did which disappointed Trent because he claimed he needed your ‘help’ but in reality he just wanted another round of messing about to his disappointment you held your ground. Instead you began your skincare and makeup at the vanity in the hotel bathroom before moving back to the bedroom and sitting with a pout looking at your suitcase confused.
“What do you think I should wear? I don’t know Denise that well and I don’t know what people have said about me so I don’t want to like… I don’t know, mess up.” You nervously babbled rummaging through your suitcase on the floor.
“You look beautiful in anything.” Trent picked you up off the ground to give you a hug still wet from his shower.
“That’s incredibly unhelpful, T, seriously.” He placed a kiss on your forehead to try to calm your nerves. “Erm… I’m wearing this,” said showing you the outfit he had layed out of the bed. “If that helps at all.”
“Baby… I picked that out though” so you both started laughing.
Because you were going to the England team’s event after you wanted to be a little ‘on theme’ but not exactly sporting Saint George’s cross. You picked a pair of white linen trousers from Cult Gaia, a navy and white striped knit tank from Kule, paired with a Bottega Veneta mini sunrise bag in red, you also opted to bring a Jacquemus denim jacket in case you got cold. Oh! And of course shoes so red Manolo Blahniks were the choice. Your boobs were on display a little bit from not wearing a bra with the top but having a jacket would be a good cover. The pants fit your waist perfectly and when standing showed off your incredible figure. You wanted to be casual so your shoe choice was flats. Once you were dressed you walked over to help fix the collar of Trent’s shirt. He wore tailored khaki cargo style pants, a white t-shirt, a Rhude button up open overtop and a pair of Louis Vuitton trainer sneakers.
“You’re so so so handsome. It’s a little unfair.” You said as he stood in front of a full length mirror inspecting his outfit and you went and wrapped your hands around his biceps and leaned your head on his shoulder.
“I have to keep up with you don’t I?” He cheekily said, squeezing his hands around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss.
You went to the lobby and Dianne asked if you wanted a photo, well she wanted one of you two, you obliged not particularly upset about capturing memories. Trent and you took a few and Dianne gushed over how beautiful she thought you both were. You had Dianne send them to you and Trent but neither of you posted the photo. Your camera rolls were filled with photos like this that never saw the light of day only when they were printed and hung in the house or a rare occasion where you’d post a more subtle pic of you holding hands walking down the street in your fits like you did tonight.
You held hands as you walked down cobble streets till you saw the Brummie Bellingham family waiting outside the restaurant for dinner. The group of the three boys, two mums, and yourself filed into the restaurant and per usual heads began to turn. Trent was one thing but Jude out in public was another animal… the two of them together; Pandora’s box. You sat at a table nestled in the back of a nice restaurant, you were relieved your outfit of choice was appropriate. To no one’s surprise, you sat close to Trent. One part of the table had a booth for seating and you took his lead so Trent helped you slid in before he followed. Your thighs were touching immediately, one hand wrapped around your waist low with his thumb in between the fabric of your trousers and your skin. The other gripped high on your leg till he needed to use it to look at a menu. Trent, Jude, Jobe honed in on some conversation regarding a referee error that happened in another countries group match. You nodded your head following along, you had seen the story, and Trent had explained it at length. Trent pulled on your waist to get you to be a little closer to him so you gave into his wishes and placed your head on his shoulder. He placed a kiss onto your hair in between sentences. Dianne and Denise were talking about something you couldn’t really hear but they were engrossed in their own back and forth until Dianne tapped at your hand that was resting on the table top.
“Hmm?” You picked up your head with a smile turning towards her. Trent unphased with his hand still gripping you tight.
“Come talk with us sweetheart.” She cooed, gesturing her head towards the other side of the table. You didn’t need his permission but you looked at Trent peeling his fingers off your waist to slide over to talk to the mums before whispering in his ear.
“Okay?” You asked with no real expectation for an answer you just wanted to note what you were doing.
“You can only listen to so much hun.” Denise spoke with a smile you hadn’t really seen her crack yet. Another mum of only boys made you nervous.
“It’s fine, I think when I hit the 15th time discussing the same call, I start to check out a little.” You giggled picking up a glass of wine, bringing it slowly to your lips holding it there a little longer after your sip.
“I understand that, imagine over 20 years of football chaos all day every day. It’ll never end.” Dianne and Denise laughed reminiscing about going from grassroots teams to the biggest stadiums in the world with their little boys.
“I don’t mind. I do actually love football…” you paused and giggled a little before your gaze drifted away from them to Trent. “Maybe not to the same extent of course but it’s nice when people are passionate about something, really love, devote, and care about it.” Your eyes fell back towards them but more so to the table where you played with the rings on your fingers. Trent felt your gaze but missed the connection so he reached over a little and linked his pinky with your hand that was on the seat of the booth before giving you a soft smile. Denise and Dianne watched the exchange and the way your words softened talking about being passionate and what it meant to really love something catching that it wasn’t maybe only about football but about someone sitting at the table who was playing football.
“I heard you followed football before you moved here, is that right?” Denise asked, giving you a sweet smile.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s always been something my dad and I bonded over, had a connection with, I actually played till I was around 16 or so but didn’t really want to play at university so it faded out but when I got older following a team with my dad really kept us close and that’s important to me. We’ve created some of the best memories together at matches.” You rambled a bit, maybe it was the wine, or just panic trying to speak to Denise but you felt a little on edge.
“You did not play footie! That’s bullshit.” Jude’s head turned towards you.
“Jude…” Denise gave a stare that if it was directed at you, you’d probably cry but he just shrugged.
“Sentiment still stands, I don’t believe that.” Jude scoffed.
“Nah, she did! Kept the little secret in her back pocket for a while.” Trent confirmed it was in fact true with a little chuckle.
“Okay, well I wasn’t going to walk up to you people who do it professionally and be like ‘oh I played too!’ That’s embarrassing.” You sarcastically swayed your head back and forth making fun of how ridiculous it would’ve been.
“It still would’ve been interesting to know.” Jobe piped up and it made you smile. You just wanted to pinch his cheeks but he was older than that, definitely not as naive as he played but truly was adorable.
“Thanks, Jobe” you gave him a heartfelt smile. “Jude, you just listening in on our conversation?” You teased picking up your fork and pointing it at him.
“Nah, nah, you’re not all that interesting.” Jude pointed his fork at you emphasizing ‘you’ while he rolled his eyes.
“I’d say otherwise but each their own.” You imitated the same shrug he did earlier.
“You’ve had quite a whirlwind couple of years though sweetheart, at least from what I’ve heard. What did you do before you moved to the UK?” Denise, now interested in how you ended up at this dinner table and that there were things her boys were even still learning about.
“Oh, um, I went to university for a degree and then worked in fashion for a little and in what felt like a blink of an eye I ended up here.” You smiled, oversimplifying your backstory.
“Wow, Hun! Pretty, smart, funny, pushes back against my Jude. Trenty, you’ve got a good one.” Denise cooed looking at Trent whose eyes were still fixed on you from when you were speaking.
“Yeah, absolutely perfect. Worth getting her to move countries innit” Trent gushed eyes still stuck on you before sliding your body back over to him to wrap his arms around your frame placing a little peck on your neck.
“Done well” Dianne cooed, smiling at Trent’s clear obsession while taking a sip from her glass.
“Well then you’ve suddenly become my default to keep all the boys in line on this Greece holiday.” Denise joked a little but it was laced with a bit of seriousness.
“I always do, she’s been looking after mine for a bit now.” Dianne creased, the two mums were having a laugh themselves so you let it play out. The bulk of dinner wrapped up and Denise and Dianne decided they’d let the four of you get up to some nonsense without them so they said their goodbyes, hugs and kisses, and started to walk away from the table.
“Di, he is in love with that girl.” Denise quietly spoke to Dianne as they walked.
“Oh, I’m aware. It’s mutual too, think she’s more shy about the affection because he’s in his element or spaces he’s already familiar with but it’s totally infatuation all the time”
“Think they want to get married?” Denise asked the blatant question.
“I know Trent would, he’s slyly mentioned looking at rings but I keep my mouth shut.” Diane smiled just keeping her eyes forward as Denise glanced back at the table.
“It’s the only way we get any information now, just being quiet I swear” Denise laughed at the reality of their situations.
“She’s so good for him and he’s good to her. They make each other so happy, their house is gorgeous and so warm. It makes my heart full that they built this all from some whirlwind interaction.” She paused having a think. “Oh, god, you know what, yeah I’d really want that for them. Whole family loves that girl to bits.” Dianne babbled getting caught in the idea of what the future had in store for you and Trent.
You and the three boys decided to grab the check but go to the bar, you didn’t really need to sneak Jobe in with you like you normally would with a younger boy just being with Jude and Trent was like going anywhere with a free pass so it was no problem.
On cue, a few girls approached asking for photos with the boys so you happily helped take some for them. They wanted individual photos with Jude and then Trent. When one girl was posing for her photo with Trent she was a little bit more handsy than you cared for but it was only a photo so you bit your tongue. She wrapped her arm around his waist and placed her palm over his chest like a couple may pose. Jobe gripped your shoulder with his hand sensing the tension as you tapped away taking the photos on her phone. Even he knew it was probably a step too far on the girls' part. The other girl waiting for her turn for photos with Jude and Trent squealed a little.
“Literally you look like a couple! You’d be so cute together.” The fan said with a cheeky wink to her friend. Jude was quick to cut the encounter, none of you wanted to make a big deal but it still didn’t make you feel great.
“Alright darling, you want your picture with me too or just Trentski, C’mere” Jude cooed with false flirtation. The girl detached and Jobe said he’d take the remaining photos. You were polite and smiled to the girls and let them know if they needed you to take more you would but Trent walked up to you and draped his arms over your shoulder, his hands caressing the back of your head before you could really do anything else.
“Getting jealous, pretty girl?” Pressing his nose against yours. “Hmm, baby?” His lips pulled into a sly smile. You leaned in and rested your head on his chest before you started pressing light kisses over his shirt up to his collarbone and then his neck, all the way to his ear.
“Don’t like seeing you with someone else,” you quietly admitted. “You’re mine, baby.” You pouted your lips, he couldn’t see but could probably feel them roll against his skin. He grabbed both your cheeks and held your face out in front of his. You innocently looked up at him through your lashes. He teased you a little bit pressing small kisses to your neck now the same way you did to him but his were heavy with a more sensual motive. He heard you purr a little at the sensation so he took it a step further and began whispering against your sensitive skin about what he was going to do to you back in your hotel room; his words interspersed by kisses. You tried to hold back a moan before pulling him in for a proper kiss needing one to hold you over knowing you were in for a long night of cheeky hand placements and sultry kisses until you made it back to the promised land i.e your hotel room.
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Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍
Next Part - Chapter 20 xx
#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold imagines#you’re mine fic#taa x reader
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You just gotta laugh
... when Maximum Wobbler Bullshit strikes again:
FFS, woman: you have been repeatedly proven tragically wrong, cut the crap and take a hike. This time, it was not even me, it was Marple (what were the odds?) to call you out, and I have to say she was absolutely right. Fair's fair. What she wrote is correct: even if the company you work for is registered in the US, you can still 'work' on its behalf in the UK. Either as an independent agent (consultant, in this case), which is something Marple did not take into account, but I do (as no contract is visible, all could anyone do is speculate), or as an employee with the right visa (I would be more reserved about it, as her presence in the UK can still be considered episodic at best and usually continuity is one of the criteria being used, exactly as for overseas revenues in taxation). Anyways, in my book, consulting would be the usual way to provide the kind of services Ashley does on behalf of SS, considering we are talking about spirits business, and this is how I have always analyzed things. Let's think for example about the kind of contract between SS and the Scottish master blender who helped elaborate the whisky's profile: he is a consultant, not an employee.
This is, by the way, not limited to spirits business and sky is the limit as far as contracts go. My own mother, as a General Sales Agent on behalf of a foreign airline, acted as a business managing representative of that company in my country/region for years, while not being its employee for one single day. She was still regularly reporting to headquarters and still regularly attending business meetings in that foreign capital, but she was obviously not paying taxes in that country, either. That did not mean that she was sleeping with the company's Area Manager (who became a near and dear family friend, btw), as some of my own Anons seem to be thinking about Ashley (SMH).
Also, he did not take a potential 'client' to that match. He took his consultant/ employee. Legally speaking, 'work' is too vague a concept, as it can cover very different situations, as I have just explained. Talking about a 'client' here is just wrong and makes me wonder if Wobble Bullshit ever worked anywhere, if only for a single day in her life, bless her heart.
It would seem to me Maximum Wobble Bullshit is the one who has no damn understanding about the basic ropes of business and/or employment.
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I'm trying to find the announcement of his deal for what rights were sold, but it's buried now with this news (so if you have it, do a girl a favour)
I'm a professional googler (i.e., a research librarian) and here's what I found.
The Daily Express has an article from July 2022 about the book that included the tweet Omid posted announcing it: "I can finally share that I'm working on a BRAND NEW BOOK!! So excited to be working again with Carrie Thornton at @deystreet @harpercollins (US) and MsLisaMilton at @hqstories."
(link: https://www.express.co.uk/news/royal/1648213/Meghan-Markle-Prince-Harry-book-omid-scobie-biography)
Next, when I searched for Scobie and Harper Collins together specifically, I found an article that talked some about the deal: "Scobie sold world English rights to a currently untitled book, set for 2023, to Carrie Thornton at Dey Street. Albert Lee at United Talent Agency brokered the deal on behalf of Scobie." The article's source is the August 2022 Publisher's Weekly announcement (linked within).
(article link: https://meaww.com/omid-scobie-all-set-to-write-new-book-about-meghan-markle-prince-harry-released-in-the-year-202)
Next I looked up everyone these articles ID'd.
Carrie Thornton and Dey Street (which is an imprint of Harper Collins) also published Finding Freedom. Dey Street has the North American's publishing rights.
Lisa Milton is the publishing agent for the UK and Commonwealth rights. (https://www.thebookseller.com/rights/hq-snaps-up-scobies-book-on-the-monarchys-fight-for-survival)
Albert Lee is a literary agent based in NYC. Before becoming a literary agent, he was an editor and a journalist. I think he was also instrumental in publishing Finding Freedom but I haven't been able to find confirmation.
I did try to search for Omid Scobie and Xander, limiting the date range from July 2022 to October 2023 (to exclude this week's tsnuami) but all the search results came back in Dutch, which I don't speak.
well well well, thank youuuuu my darling! let's have a lil Emma publishing lesson, shall we?! disclaimer: this applies only to selling rights for an English book to an English-speaking country, but I often sell my translation rights for my self-pubbed books so I'm used to this.
Publishers will take one of two options: World English, or World Rights. World English is what it says on the tin: English language rights, usually split between US and UK/Commonwealth. With this, you handle foreign translations yourself, although publishers will work together. World Rights is the whole shebang, including translations - when it's this, the publisher then shops around for translations and whatever the foreign publisher pays for it comes off your advance.
World English Rights means he sold just English and held on to foreign translation rights. Dey Street would have then sold the UK/Commonwealth rights to Harlequin, but Scobie's agent would have shopped the translation rights.
Which means Harlequin did not send the manuscript to Xander. Omid Scobie's agent did... and his agent would have sent the manuscript Omid Scobie provided as a final copy for translation.
#the plot like my gravy thickens#kudos if you know who said that lmao#emma talks books#emma on writing#resident royal fandom author
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