#scaffolding prices

[stakscaffoldseo]

Emergency Scaffolder Service in Kent | Call 01883 330188

Our highly qualified team have helped in a variety of ways, helping our customers to achieve their goals time and time again in a safe, reliable and efficient manner. ✔️Domestic ✔️ Commercial Scaffolding

[economicsresearch]

page 564 panel a - I am not asleep.

[melit0n]

Some miscellaneous Paris photos I completely forgot to post! I have some Louvre photos, as well as a couple other misc. photos which I might share later as well!

[mtandtgroup-blog]

Are you looking for a scaffolding solution that prioritizes safety without compromising quality? Mtandt Limited Manufacturing offers a comprehensive range of aluminium scaffolding designed to deliver industry-leading protection and productivity. Trusted by over 10,000 industries, our scaffolding solutions help clients complete projects safely and efficiently.

Don't compromise safety or productivity—choose Mtandt for all your scaffolding needs! For more information, reach out to us at: 📧 marketing@mtandt.com / Ecom.mro@mtandt.com 📞 +91-9090101065 / 7718897739

[infrakeys]

Scaffolding Joint Pin Manufacturers | Suppliers | Dealer in Faridabad

Find top-quality scaffolding joint pin manufacturers, suppliers, and dealers in Faridabad. Infrakeys Technologies offers durable and reliable scaffolding solutions for all your construction needs. Get the best scaffolding joint pins near you today.

Phone: 8130376622

Address: 519-521, 5th floor, The Business Hub, Sector-81,Greater Faridabad, 121007, Haryana

[constructionequipments]

Builder Hoist or Tower Hoist Manufacturer and Supplier in India

Weber Construction Machinery is a pioneer builder hoist manufacturer and supplier in India. Builder hoist is also known as a tower hoist is designed for lifting materials at construction sites. Optimize your building operations with our dependable hoisting solution.

[sonaconstruction01]

Suspended Platform - Hanging Platform Latest Price  in india

Designed as a hanging scaffold platform, our suspended access equipment is engineered to withstand the rigors of construction sites while offering stability and security. Whether it's painting, maintenance, or repair work, our construction suspended platform ensures that your team can work comfortably and securely at heights.

https://sonavibrators.com/category-details/22/suspended-platform

[scaffoldstore-01]

HIGH QUALITY SCAFFOLD WITH WHEELS

We supply the best and highest quality scaffold with wheels at an affordable price. Scaffolds with wheels are temporary raised structures that support work personnel and materials on construction sites during maintenance or repairs.

Scaffold Store delivers the best and highest quality scaffolding services.

[rajeshraghulsk]

aluminium scaffolding hire

When it comes to construction projects, safety and efficiency are top priorities. This is where aluminium scaffolding comes in as a versatile and reliable solution that offers many benefits. In this blog post, we'll explore the advantages of hiring aluminium scaffolding for your next project.

Lightweight and Easy to Transport

Cost-effective

Strong and Durable

Safer Option

Aluminium scaffolding is a reliable and versatile option that offers many benefits for construction projects. It is lightweight, strong, durable, and customizable, making it a safe and cost-effective option for workers on site. By hiring aluminium scaffolding for your next project, you can ensure that you are using a high-quality solution that meets your specific needs. Contact us today to learn more about our aluminium scaffolding hire services.

[spurbleu]

oldman!price x reader angsty (?) drabble

‧︎✳︎༚︎‧︎⁎︎°︎

age leaves john price in tantrum.

he despises what it’s done to his body. the creak in his knees when he walks, the strain in his shoulder when he reaches across the table. steam engine, ironclad and coal hot, neglected the rust on the belly of its stirrups. adopted a sudden fragility he cannot stand.

takes a literal force of nature to get him to retire, and he grieves it like a father. it, in all honesty, was one. taught him how to shoot straight, how to hold his men, how to be without feeling like he’s an imposter in his own skin. forced him to grow up- which is ironically exactly what ended their alliance.

nursed whiskeys, fattened ice kissing the base. smoked like somehow- fossilized in ligero- he’d find his youth again. blistered under reluctant mortality, indulged in fatal vices because if anything is putting him in the grave it’s a gun or a cigar.

a pot never boils watched, yet you stay at your designated post by the doorway while he broods (he’s a dramatic at heart), storm clouds stamped on the collapse of his shoulders.

if you were one of his soldiers, you let him fester.

but you were his wife.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t aged yourself, silver linings sprouting from your scalp, sun spots and bleached knuckles. even so, you found time to pick up his medications, comb through amateur food blogs for gut health and bone pain, roll the aches out of his shoulder before bed. you were kind- and it was insulting.

spitfire catching on the burs of his muttonchops- unfamiliar with dependence. he was a captain for Christ’s sake- alloy lighthouse, built by cement and sheer fucking will. he didn’t need to be hand fed vitamin C and dragged to yoga class. he pitched barbed wire, dug his shallow trench and intended lay in it.

until, one evening, thunder strikes him out of dewy acrimony. he clambers up the stairs, musk of tobacco and spite plants a grimy boot in the oak. he glances over the railing, and stills.

bathroom door, cutting swaddled atmosphere with thin bisque, a pyramid down the center of the hall that created the illusion of darker corners. centered in the odd, domestic scaffolding was you- shower damp and concentrated.

it was like watching a bird preen feathers. tugging at the sags, yanking at the silvers, skin pitching at the nostril and eyes narrowing into thin keyways. and if he squinted, sniper accuracy rendered tears. sallow river bed on your flushed cheeks, clumped lashes, a frown that broke hearts.

“you’re never struggling alone, John,” you had said one evening, when he had been foolishly apathetic, “i’ll make sure of that.”

he hadn’t said anything.

guilt squirms at the base of his neck. the stranger named comfort that swelled within your embrace unnerved him so much he had forgotten to introduce himself. and now, milking moonlit lighting, with a wife who thought he was hiding from her, he called himself what he had never been as a soldier.

a coward.

you were making tea the next morning, windows surrendering a warmth when the day was still docile. it was while you were humming that your husband, sneaky bastard, folds you into the plush of his chest, drowsy lips dragging on the cusp of your shoulder.

“you always look so beautiful in the mornin, darlin.”

and it was true. you’ve never looked better to the old man.

[lethargicluv]

Firefighter Ghost Blurb 2

Part 1

Firefigher Simon "Ghost" Riley who didn't think he'd ever mess up a team training exercise until he's falling from the scaffolding to the safety mats below because his boot missed a rung when he saw your face smiling at them from your second story window. Soap is gaping down from the top of the obstacle course in disbelief because LIEUTENANT SIMON RILEY just fumbled so hard he actually fell, he never thought he'd ever see that happen. Gaz is still in position to start once Ghost made it to the top joining Soap but is now trying very hard not to laugh outloud so his face is buried in his arms and his shoulder are trembling slightly. Price has his clipboard to his forehead in exasperation because how would they even make it to regionals for the upcoming yearly firefighter team obstacle course competition if they were messing up in practice like this. Simon has never been more thankful for his mask because he's more red than the firetrucks in the station now that he knows you saw what just happened. He can see you giggling in your window from where he lies splayed out on the mats and he thinks that if he gets to see you laugh like this more often he wouldn't mind falling again. 

You find out that they've been training to compete next month when you bring today's taco tuesday dinner over to them. The recipe seemed to call for a bit too much spice and you get to witness Soap choke and splutter while Gaz brings the table more water. Simon muses that it can't be that bad and that Soap's just a wimp until he takes a bit as feels like someone lit his mouth on fire. Price jokes and tells you it's a good punishment for them for messing up training today. When Soap recovers from his coughing fit he asks if you'll come watch them compete and Simon wants to strangle him because he knows that Soap knows exactly what he's doing the cheeky little bastard. He's going have to discuss upping the level of training with Price after this because if you're coming there's no way in hell he's going to let 141 place anything but first place. They're going to nationals and that’s final. It's now non-negotiable. 

You tell him as he walks you back across the street to your house after dinner that you're thrilled to watch them compete and that you think he looks particularly handsome when hes moving. A week later he brings you a sweatshirt that matches theirs that says 141's honorary member, Hearth, and when you ask his why Hearth he says they all agreed that you remind them of Hestia the goddess of the hearth. You're hospitable and always by the fire stations side. Someone that takes care of them all. You make him what’s possibly the best shepard’s pie he’s ever had the next day.

[catherinetcjd]

Psycho House

from Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 film, Psycho 3+ bedrooms - 2 bathrooms - basement two versions: with minimal CC & with No CC lightly furnished & ready for you to customize

Did you know this "house" was just a large prop really? For many years it sat on the studio's backlot without any back walls, floors, or internal wall structure! It was just the front and side walls - propped up with scaffolding!

It has been moved three times, and been added-to over the years. It is now a fully walled in structure, and is currently an attraction on Universal's Backlot Tour.

Read more on my BLOG >

Cross-posted to MTS and Simblr.

Lot Size: 40X20 Lot Price w/CC: $117,871 Lot Price NoCC: $117,286

W/CC = DOWNLOAD @ SFS

NoCC = DOWNLOAD @ SFS

Enjoy! 🦚

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Together we fill gaps

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Angst, Drinking

AN: You've all been treating me so much with your feedback with this series and I'm so happy to get another part out for you guys! Hope you enjoy 💕 Also, as it's come up a couple times, if you read this series and want to make something inspired by it then PLEASE go ahead, I'll be excited to see what you guys make!

Part 4 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

You waited outside the dark double doors of the meeting room like a sinner before confession, hands wringing at your sides and eyes full and wide, ready to plead for mercy. You’d even managed to bite your tongue a couple times because you were trying so hard not to look like you’d done something wrong; mind practically melting with the cold hard fact that you had. 

Even after being told to stay away from König in the heat of an ongoing operation, after being told exactly who he is on numerous occasions in fact, you’d still gone against their word and your better judgement. You’d kissed him.

You felt like a walking TV disaster, the kind of person in the movie that you watch and you yell ‘why the hell would you do that?’ to the screen while they throw their lives away on bad decisions. And now you were being called into some meeting that Price had arranged - without telling you its purpose - you could almost hear the Jaws theme flaring behind your ears. It made your mouth dry up. 

You were your own worst enemy, trapped in your mind as the rickety scaffolding collapsed around you. You’d clawed onto thoughts of how the meeting was going to go while losing yourself to the memory of König’s possessive grip around your waist and the phantom feeling of tingles swelling on your lips. 

You were going to end up buried in the fallout and there’d be no one to blame but yourself. 

“You’re early,” Price rumbled behind you.

You snapped your head around to the sound of his voice and pursed your lips, already feeling a cold flash race down your spine. You’d been more excited to rush into firefights than you were to go into that meeting, and that went double when you noticed Ghost following behind the Captain.

“Figured it’d help,” you said breathlessly, hoping he’d recognise your good intentions. 

Price grunted and Ghost said nothing. They brushed past you and walked into the depths of the meeting room, turning on the light as if they were about to start an investigator routine. You doubted either of them would play the good cop, that much was obvious. However you did wonder what they knew, what they’d found out since you’d come back from the mission.

Did either of them know about the kiss? 

You sighed and walked forward, feeling impossibly heavy and gut wrenchingly anxious. Every step was another closer to your telling off - something you rarely had to face up to. And before too long you were standing over a seat they’d pulled out for you and begrudgingly lowered yourself into it, facing the steely eyed men situated across from you. 

It didn’t help that the chair felt like a torture device. Hard pieces of ripped leather dug into your skin from the back and the lumpy cushion had you shifting in place, making you look even guiltier. Just great, as if you needed to look any worse in front of them. 

“So,” Price began, leaning forward over his chair, “Ghost filled me in on the op yesterday - in private.”

He’d neglected to take his seat, opting instead to lean over it like he might lunge at you at any given time. His eyes were harsh, swirling with the warning of an oncoming storm. 

You swallowed a hard lump in your throat - trying not to think about the way it felt like ingesting a bowling ball. It sounded almost as loud, the room was deadly silent save for the stuttering clock on the wall and the sound of your collective breathing. You’d sat down in a horror set of your own creation. 

“I’m sure you know why that was,” Ghost said, staring across at you with an almost piteous look.

His eyes were stony behind his skull mask, shadowed and layered thickly with a seriousness you’d never known before, not even during your work with him. He wasn’t ready to pounce on you like Price, but he certainly wasn’t going to save you from him either.

“Because I went against your orders,” you murmured.

“Speak up,” Price growled, going as far as to use your real name.

Well that wasn’t good.

“I went against your orders,” you said again, voice clear and unwavering. 

Even despite the looney tunes levels of fear you felt, you knew not to disobey the Captain when he shouted at you like that. You spoke like you were on stage, addressing the nation. 

“You did,” Ghost confirmed, straightening up. “Can you tell us what your orders were?”

You bit your lip, wrangling it between your teeth like tasting blood might dose you up in some way. The skin felt fit to burst like a honeydew, already worn from the night before’s activities. Perhaps the physical pain would distract you from the way Price and Ghost were looking at you as if they were ready to string you up like a war criminal, distract you from thinking about König even while they did so. 

“My orders were to wait downstairs with Gaz and Soap and keep watch for any stragglers,” you finally said, recalling the exact words he’d barked at you before you were tossed downstairs to the corpse pile. 

“And what did you do?”

“I…I lost it when I realised what was going on upstairs and I- I disobeyed the order and tried to go into the room we’d located the hostage.”

“And why was that?” Price asked this time, his eyes boring into yours.

“I- I don’t know,” you faltered, digging your nails hard into your palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He sneered.

“I- I-...Captain, I don’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t like what we were doing, what we were enabling, and I acted before I thought. I-”

“Acted before you thought,” Price interrupted, coming around from his chair and advancing toward you. “You act before you think again and next time it’s not Ghost reprimanding you, next time you could end up with a bullet in the head, or who knows? Maybe you walk out onto a landmine because you wanted to skip off and smell the fucking roses!”

You breathed in and backed up in your chair, leather carving into your back as you did so, heartbeat wrenching upwards into an absurd chorus. You could barely focus on Price as he walked toward you and snarled like a wounded animal, ready to take you down himself before let any stray bullet pierce you.

“It won’t happen again, Captain,” you quavered, trying to hold onto what little of your strength you could. “It was stupid and reckless. It’s not the kind of person I am, and I- I let myself down. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“You’re damn right you let yourself down,” Price muttered. “Let yourself down all in the name of some crush you have as well, because don’t think that i don’t know exactly why you wanted into that room - exactly who you were trying to get at! I trusted that after our little talk you’d be able to keep a safe distance from König and keep things professional, but clearly I overestimated you…So, because of your actions, and in the interest of getting the 141 back alive and safe in future without worrying about what you might unthinkingly do, you’re not to speak to him again, do I make myself clear?”

Every fibre in your being wanted to scream and lash out. You wanted to stand up and face Price and tell him he couldn’t order you to do that, that König wasn’t on the team so he couldn’t stop you from seeing him. Though, you knew if you did it was a one way ticket to getting booted back home and god knows if it would be a permanent trip or just a stint to sort you out. 

You stamped out the thought of disagreeing immediately, and you nodded, feeling as if your head were on an automated hinge. Self preservation had kicked in at last and for a few minutes your head was clear from hazy starry thoughts and focused solely on your career, on the hard work you’d done to achieve your position. You couldn’t throw it all away. 

“Yes, Captain. You’re clear.”

You didn’t stutter or stumble, you looked him in the eye and hardened your jaw. A small smile seemed to cross his lips at last. It didn’t remain there for long, but he looked less like he was ready to strangle you till you were cold and blue, and that at the very least was something. 

“Good,” he said simply, drawing back from your chair and heading toward the heavy doorway. “Don’t ever disappoint me like this again.”

He disappeared from the room, trailing out like the smoke cloud that usually lingered with him, and left you without another word. You’d mistakenly thought you were alone for a second, feeling the tension drain out from the door and released a breath, planting your face into your palms. 

You weren’t alone though, Ghost was still there, perched over the chair that he dwarfed like a statue. It was normally a comical sight, but you weren’t ready to see the funny side of anything at that point. You weren’t ready to see much at all as you silently hoped the darkness would swallow you, remaining hunched into your hands.

“He was really worried when I told him,” Ghost finally said, huffing a little as he thought back, “He couldn’t believe you of all people went against an order - especially on an operation like this, when we had to keep ourselves clean. He didn’t like the thought of you on another mission with könig and getting yourself hurt chasing after the cunt either.” 

You stiffened when you heard him speak and slowly lowered your hands, chancing a look up at him. He didn’t look nearly as menacing as Price had, he looked contemplative. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling and his thick arms were wrapped around each other, he leaned back in his chair a little as he continued to think deeply. 

“I got that,” you snorted, biting your lip. “Is it time for you to give me a bollocking now too?”

He chuckled and shook his head. It was a welcome sound, rough and rich like velvet.

“I told you off already, remember? Besides, I don’t think I could top that.”

“Then what are you still doing hanging round? You making sure I don’t run to witness protection?”

Ghost shook his head again and stood up, sighing as he walked toward you. He stopped just short of your chair and raised his hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air a second. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were going to be ok,” he said, resting his big mitt on your shoulder. “And…I wanted you to know that we’re off to the pub later. The guys were asking after you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Price isn’t going, Sneaky. You’ll only be stuck with us,” he assured.

“And if I say I want to sit and feel sorry for myself for a little while?”

“I’d say that you’re not locking yourself up in your room like a little princess, sweetheart. You can either come with us or I can find something for you to do around the base. Your choice,” he said, the glint of a smile appearing in his eyes.

He wasn’t giving you much of a choice at all. 

-💀-

“Sneaky! Over here.”

You cast your eyes over the crowded pub, straining to hear over the low din of everyone's voices, and looked for the source of the callout, finally finding Soaps waving arms amongst the masses. It was a busy night, but still they’d managed to find a free booth somewhere off in the corner. You had no doubt there’d be a drink there waiting there for you too. 

Given the pub was one of the few closest to the base, it was pleasant enough to pass your time in. It was a little dim, the faint yellow lights not enough to combat the low ceilings and lack of windows, but it was cosy. The old wooden bar top and well worn blue floors felt homey in that familiar sort of way and you liked that it always smelt like hops and aged varnish. It was a proper old man pub, but nevertheless served as a tradition.

“Thought you were going to bail on us,” Ghost said, watching as you finally drew up to the table.

“And miss out on all the action?” You laughed dryly, tilting your head at the three men who sat comfortably against the sagging cushioned seats. “Never.”

“You tryin to say we’re no fun?” Soap asked, clutching his chest in mock alarm. 

“Mm, depends if that pint’s for me or not.”

“It was, but if you’re gonna be cheeky then-“

Soap made a play to grab the tall bubbling glass next to him, but you beat him to it. You were tipping your head up and gulping it down before he could register that you’d stolen it from his reach. 

“Fuckin hell, slow down,” Gaz laughed.

You lowered your glass to Gaz’s protest and watched as the golden liquid sloshed and levelled to around halfway. You hadn’t realised how much you’d needed that. With an eyebrow raise and a swipe of your tongue over your lips, you finally took your seat next to Soap. The men watched you and you watched them in some kind of cowboy style standoff. 

“I take it everyone knows about my verbal beat down then?” 

Soap and Gaz looked away, but Ghost's eyes remained trained on you. They were completely unashamed, unbothered that you knew he’d been gossiping again. 

“Is anything sacred round here,” you muttered, taking only a bitter sip of your beer this time. 

“They were on the mission too, not like it’s news to em’,” Ghost sniffed. 

“Price was chain smokin’ a belter today too, it was obvious something happened,” Soap muttered from behind his glass. “Garrick asked about it but he wouldn’t say-“

Gaz shoved at him, knocking his teeth against his glass.

“Oi!” 

“Don’t drag me into it!” Gaz groused.

“Well…regardless, Price wouldn’t tell us what was up, but Ghost said he’d spoken to you about what happened and that was why he had a face like a slapped arse.”

You snorted and shook your head. Soap was ever the eloquent storyteller.

“And he didn’t tell you anything else?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t mentioned the ultimatum.

“Almost like I’m a professional or something,” Ghost chuckled, leaving back in his corner. 

You raised your eyebrows and took a breath to ease your relief. In fairness to him, he loved to rile you up and tease you, but when it came to work he genuinely was strict about these things. Things like private meetings where you were told you couldn’t continue to pursue a certain masked Austrian. Surprisingly enough.

However, with that thought, you were sent spiralling back to the dilemma that had been torturing you all day. Thinking about König made your heart sink with heaviness. It dropped like an anchor. That kiss from the night before had been the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d be able to speak to him. You had so many things you’d wanted to talk through and clear up. Now - you had to ignore him at the cost of your job and you felt even worse about all that hadn’t been said. It made you feel like you’d used him, you worried he’d see it that way too. 

“What happened then?” Gaz asked, noticing you disappear into yourself. 

You shook yourself out of your stupor, poorly trying to cover it up.

“What?” You asked innocently. 

“At the meeting?” He prodded. “What’d Price say?”

“Almost sounds like you’re excited,” you bit out, deflecting as much as possible. “Someone’s enjoying being the sole favourite again, hmm?”

“Don’t be a dick, Sneak. Remember that time I fumbled the breach on that door in France - I almost blew us all to hell, you remember how bad that was? Price was fucking livid with me, and even then he was able to let that go eventually. And then after it happened, after he almost killed me for it, you told me to talk about it all so I wouldn’t have it trapped in my head, so just tell us. What’d he say?”

A deep shuddering breath left your lungs like a gale. Suddenly the pint in your hand was much more interesting than you’d ever found a drink. The way the liquid sloshed and foamed white, the bubbles fizzing in your ears like static, it drew your eye for a few moments until you risked a glance up to Ghost, watching his eyes roam your face. He was interested to see if you’d keep deflecting or come out with it, expression stony.

“He said I couldn’t talk to König again, and I’m assuming you won’t see me round base for much longer if I decide to go against him.” You sighed.

Soap and Gaz raised their eyebrows, but they didn’t look too shocked. However, they did risk a look at each other and something seemed to ring through their expressions. A little bright bulb of knowledge, wordless but obvious. What was it they were thinking about, what had happened?

“Spill,” you growled. 

Ghost looked equally as intrigued, sitting up from his slump in the corner. That was interesting too. Soap knew something that Ghost didn’t - for once. 

“Well me n’ Gaz were comin’ out the gym together and we were gonna go to the kitchen quickly before the showers and eh…the Captian was in there having a word with the big guy.”

“A word? What do you mean?” You asked, nails digging into the sticky wood of the table. 

“Couldn’t hear, but it was obvious they weren’t agreeing,” Gaz shrugged. “König looked like he was going to strangle Price.”

“Price just stood there as well, shoulders back, relaxed as anything. König was all over the place, shouting in German and smashing his fist on the counter before he stormed out. We left before he reached us - as you can imagine,” Soap laughed nervously, clearly still affected by the sight. 

Shouting in German? It wasn’t like him to slip into his native language when he was around the base. You’d heard him start to speak it once or twice when he got the occasional phone call from his family, but he rarely strayed from English. Only when he was mumbling to himself or surprised or annoyed about something would you hear the odd word or curse outside of speaking on the phone, but he didn’t let those out often. He must’ve been in a horrible mood to be shouting like that at the Captain. 

“Do you know what he said?” You asked curiously. 

“How the fuck should we know,” Soap chuckled. “He was doing that thing where his voice goes all loopy and high pitched. Sounded like a cartoon character, ‘eek meek deek’ somethin’ somethin’ -�� he was goin’ bananas.”

“Ich mach dich kalt?” You tried, briefly recognising the sounds of the words from a story König had told once - about an older boy chasing after him with a swiss army knife.

“Yeah sounded just like that actually! What’s it mean?” Gaz said. 

“I’ll make you cold - I’ll kill you, basically,” you said, biting your lip. “Sounds like he was really fucking angry with Price.” 

-💀-

Despite not having wanted to go out that night, you’d had a nice time. After you’d stopped talking about the whole Price debacle, the conversation revolved more around usual topics and for a little while it felt like everything was ok again. 

König lingered ever present in the back of your mind, but the boys provided a good distraction and you were glad that Ghost forced you out of your cave of isolation. He’d known exactly what you needed, as little as you’d like to admit it. 

You’d ended the night on six pints and walked back to base merry, singing along to a nonsense song that Soap was singing, grinning ear to ear and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Your hand was wrapped tightly around his back and he was doing the same to you, forcing you along the street in a wild toppling sway that made your head spin. The stars looking like they were dancing and the trees swayed too and fro below them, like nature's flash mob in your blurry field of vision.

The song carried through the night like a fox call, but neither Gaz nor Ghost could stop you both from singing it. No matter how many times Ghost threatened discipline or Gaz told you there were people sleeping, nothing broke through your happy daze. Life was good, it was you and the 141; it was downing dry crappy beer in your favourite pub and telling stories about the times you all fucked up until you were all laughing along. 

All until you passed by your usual sitting spot and noticed König posted up there, watching you walk along like a sentry. Your heart stopped and you stopped walking with it, sending Soap almost clattering to the ground. He was cursing you out and stumbling to his feet, in complete ignorance of the staring contest you held with your former…whatever he was to you. 

König’s back was stiff, body upright and his eyes unblinking at you, glinting in the dark like precious diamonds - hard, sharp edged and dangerous.

Ghost and Gaz froze, they’d been walking up ahead, and turned back when they realised you and Soap were missing, and as soon as Ghost spotted König you could swear you heard him growl. He marched over, boots thudding like gun blasts, and yanked on your arm, manhandling both you and Soap away. You’d tried to look behind you, tried to silently tell König sorry with your gaze, but even that was stopped as Ghost shoved you forward and barked at you to keep moving. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got the biggest hands, LT?” Soap hiccuped, simpering up at Ghost like an idiot. 

“Big enough to strangle both of you if you don’t keep moving,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on you. 

“Mm, some people really like big hands. My ex told me once…” Soap babbled, sent mad with the twelve pints he’d gotten through. “The bigger the hands, the bigger the-“

“That’s quite enough Sergeant!” Ghost interrupted, shoving Soap forward this time. “Both of you get inside and go to your rooms before I play conkers with your heads!”

-💀-

It wasn’t until a few days later that you had another run in with König. You were about to go into the kitchen when you noticed him standing by the counter, in his full hood, making a cup of coffee. To make matters worse, Price was about to walk in at the same time. He’d caught you lingering in the limbo of the kitchen and hallway, your hand gripping the doorway like the room might start shaking. 

Price had smiled at you, finally able to look at you with something other than disappointment, and dropped his expression as soon as he noticed why you’d stopped. It wasn’t for his benefit, he must’ve realised, it was indecision about entering a room with König. He paused too, both of you stuck watching the unwilling Austrian zoo exhibition. It was only when Price walked forward and busied himself with looking in the fridge that you assumed you must be allowed in there too. 

It all felt so ridiculous. The reality of the situation finally kicked in and you had to bite your tongue just to stop yourself from laughing. You were reduced to hiding in doorways and ducking round corners all to avoid a boy that you were forbidden from talking to. Next thing you knew you’d be telling Price you’d done your homework while you figured out a way to sneak out of your window. 

You shook your head, trying not to think about it all and stared down at your shoes the minute König finally looked up at you. He grunted something too low for you to hear and moved aside, allowing you space to make your tea.

In turn, you sighed and took the handle of the kettle in your hand, testing the weight of it to see how much water was left and put it down satisfied that you could make your tea and leave. It was heavy, almost full, the slosh of water against metal was one of the few sounds that pervaded the tense atmosphere of the room. 

You could hear your heartbeat inside your ears, it thudded dully like a warning. You opened the cupboard, hoping to escape the sound as soon as you could, drown it out with a movie and maybe a workout afterward. Though you stopped in confusion when you noticed your tea wasn’t there. 

You frowned for a second until you remembered that Ghost had been fucking with you and Soap ever since that night at the pub. He took to petty revenge instead of anything official, and it was that that had you chancing a look on top of the cupboards, remembering when he’d done this before. Sure enough, you’d only just glimpsed a corner of the berry red packaging, but that was enough to tell you it had been put up out of your reach. Fuck sake.

“Fucking Ghost,” you muttered, hands on your hips like an annoyed teacher.

You refused to drink regular tea. It would be giving in to Ghost, and you were never one to do that unless under order and actively working (even then, you’d apparently shown yourself and everyone else you could rebel against him if the motivation was there). 

You raked your hand down your face and sighed, marching over to the table so that you could retrieve a chair. Though, before you could even pull one out from the table König had noticed your situation and reached up wordlessly, retrieving the box of tea and setting it on the counter. He didn’t say anything after either, but he gave you a butter soft look as if to say I still care. 

It broke your heart - even despite the things you knew about him that made you so angry - you missed him like hell. 

You wanted to hug him and tell him just how much you’d missed him. You wanted to tell him how many times something had happened over the days that made your heart wrench because you wouldn't be able to chat to him about it. You missed his dry comments and evil little laugh, you missed when he’d get overly polite because he’d get flustered talking to you, and most of all you missed having that big muscled body pressed against you in some form another; beside you, up against you, an arm around you, a thigh brushing against yours. His heat was missing, your body had never been so cold.

“You hanging around long, König?” Price asked, voice lilting dangerously.

You gulped, your grip on the chair tightening. You watched as König clenched his fists and regarded the Captain, who was glaring daggers at him. Neither man looked ready to back down, but neither made a move forward. You were glad for it, you didn’t want them to fight in front of you. You didn't like the idea of König shouting. 

“I figured I’d sit for a bit,” König finally said, leaning his heavy frame against the counter, “is that alright, Captain?”

“As long as you don’t mess with my team, you can do anything you like, König.”

“Polite of you to allow that,” König replied, distaste dripping from his tone. 

“I’m a reasonable man.”

König sniffed at that, but he didn’t come out with a rebuttal. Instead he picked up his coffee and left, not in the mood to continue bickering back and forth with Price. You doubted he could last much longer either, his body looked fit to burst by the time he’d gone, ready to tear forward and claim Price’s head for his wall. 

“Fucking KorTac,” Price muttered, slamming the fridge and walking out with a brown can. 

-💀-

A few days later, after a couple more awkward encounters filled with longing stares and unspoken words, you’d been lying on your bed when first contact came. 

You squealed like a school kid. You hadn't expected something to go flying across your floor and to the foot of your bed. At first you’d thought  it was some kind of mouse until you calmed down and realised it was just a bit of paper that had gone skittering across the wood. 

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself.

You hesitantly picked up the note and almost dropped it like a hot potato when you saw the neat looping scrawl on the page. It didn’t look like any handwriting you recognised from your team and instinctually you knew exactly who had written it. Apparently he wasn’t as strong willed as you.

Meet me at The Broken Plough at 8.30, I know the 141 don’t go there.

When you read it finally, you found yourself falling back onto your bed, sending the springs groaning underneath you. The Broken Plough was further out than your usual pub, the one that was usually too full of people to get a seat at. It was charming and had a lot more of a modern touch to it, so it was no wonder more people flocked there, and you knew for a fact that König was going to use that to his advantage. More people meant less prying eyes, it meant crowds that could hide even a massive almost seven foot tall Austrian man. 

“I’m not going,” you said out loud to yourself, perhaps as a command, perhaps as a promise. “I could lose my job.”

Nevertheless, whatever you tried to do by manifesting out loud didn’t work - you ended up worming your way out of the base just before eight o’clock. You walked through the cold night, steps crunching on the frosty grass and found yourself at The Broken Plough just before the agreed time, cursing yourself as you filtered through the crowd and toward the bar, blessedly finding a free chair. 

If you were going to face König after all those days of not speaking, then you needed a drink or two first.

The vodka shot you ordered went down hard and bitter on your throat, however it paved the way for your double rum and coke to go down nice and smoothly. If you were going to put your position at risk, then you’d be damned if you were going to do it sober. It was a necessity really, even through the cold your body had been running hot with worry, and then as you sat at the bar you could practically feel your eyes vibrating as you looked down at the dark liquid in the wide glass, swirling it around and distracting yourself from the chatter of all the people around you.  

“You came.”

You froze, registering the voice coming from your right side. It sounded soft, though you still heard it, completely undeniably coming from the man you’d been forbidden to talk to. His shadow cast itself across the bar and darkened your drink from treacle to tar. It was a shock at first, knowing you could speak to him in safety, and then it was a spark, a kick of lightning as if you’d been put under a defibrillator. You were doing something bad - but you’d don’t care.

You could talk to him again, it was safe. 

Not that you could even find the words to say when you came to the realisation. You hadn’t even looked at him yet. You glanced up from your glass and gasped when you came face to face with him, eyes blowing up like supernovas. 

He wasn’t wearing his hood, or his neck warmer, or even the usual uniform you came to expect him to be in. He was wearing roughed up jeans and a black t-shirt that could barely contain his upper arms, the fabric was straining around his muscles and looked fit to burst. Inexplicably your mouth started to fill, and you had to choke down a swallow just to greet him. 

“König!” you squeaked, still running your eyes up and down his frame. 

You were in disbelief. This was what König looked like? He might as well have appeared naked, you wouldn’t have reacted much differently. You caught sight of every detail you could, cataloguing the scars and bruises that ran along his arms like tiger stripes and leopard spots, gouges and slashes scattered carelessly, disrupting the blanket of fine blonde hair that ran across them. His chest was wide even without all the gear and bags normally strapped across it, his legs still thick without the baggy trousers he normally wore. 

When you finally looked up at his face you caught him staring back at you with an expression crossed half with amusement and half with worry. You supposed he must’ve been anxious about how you’d react, and if you were going to show up at all - and now that you’d come and not said anything beyond his name. Did he think you were going to think better of your decision? 

Certainly not now you’ve seen him looking like that, you thought absentmindedly. He’d even brushed his hair, it sat neatly on top of his head, running all in the same direction. He’d put effort in, he wanted to look good. 

“Are you alright?” he asked finally, breathless. 

“Yeah, just- I just can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now and you look…like that.”

“Like what?” he replied, frowning and looking down at himself as if he’d done something wrong, as if he’d come out with two different shoes or something. 

“Like um- like…” you bit your tongue and looked away from him, taking a sizable drink from your glass. “Good.”

“You think I look good?” he grinned.

König’s face broke out into a full smile, his soft lips and his big eyes making you dizzy. You ached to brush your hand against his jaw and pull him toward you, you wanted to kiss him again. Though you didn’t think you’d get to remain in your refuge for long if you wound up on top of him (or below, you didn’t mind) in public. 

“Yes, you look good,” you said weakly, finishing the rum and coke down to the last sticky sweet drop.

“I figured it’d help if I was less recognisable,” he shrugged, “but if it works for you, then that’s good too.”

“I think people might still have their doubts about the six foot seven Austrian man,” you laughed. 

“What if I lean?” he said conspirtorialy, lowering himself against the bar a little. 

“Oh, much less conspicuous now,” you snorted.

You both chuckled at that, and he straightened up again with a shake of his head. Clearly you’d both missed each other’s company more than you’d realised, and with that realisation you were fighting to keep back a whine and your stomach was filling with butterflies. You were really speaking with König again. He was really there, in the incredibly handsome flesh. 

“I missed you,” you sighed, propping your head against the arm you had leaning on the bar top. 

“I missed you too,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how many times I had to hold myself back from talking to you. It’s been torture.”

“Well I guess I have to thank you for that. I’m only just back in Price’s good books,” you said bitterly. 

“Price,” he grunted. “I still can’t believe it - what happened. He came up to me and told me about your meeting with him, you know, and he said if he caught me talking to you he’d get me kicked off the base for ‘unprofessional’ behaviour. As if that weren’t enough, when I told him to go ahead, he said he’d send you away to another team if you gave in.”

Your mind spun knowing that Price really was serious. If by some miracle Price chanced walking into the pub he swore that he hated, your role in the 141 was going to be dissolved in acid and shut into a barrel. 

“The man knows how to make a threat, I’ll give him that,” you remarked.

“It’s not right!”

You sighed and ran your hand along König’s arm, feeling the hair tickle at your fingertips. He was a spring waiting to release, his muscles corded like he was ready to be unleashed onto the field. They only got tighter as you continued your ministrations, his face was turning unreadable, his breaths labouring in his chest. 

How tightly wound was he? You were just stroking his arm. 

“König, I’m not a fan of the decision either, but…I understand why he asked it of us.”

“What?” he growled, standing away from your reach. 

“I know that what happened wasn’t exactly a live or die situation, but realistically it could’ve been. There could’ve been men we didn’t know about and they could’ve gotten to Soap and Gaz while I was off distracting Ghost. It could’ve been bad. It could-”

“Any situation could turn into anything, it doesn’t mean you should ban people from speaking to each other like you’re some kind of fucking teacher or something, he shouldn’t have that power.”

“He’s the Captain, he has that power for a reason, he has to do what’s best for his team,” you sighed. “Even when what’s best is really shitty.”

König looked like he could go on, but he saw the way that you were staring back at him and dropped it, looking utterly defeated. He clenched his jaw and looked around the bar, catching the faces of the people that milled around and seemed to be deep in thought. His brows had a little knot in the middle, just a little something you picked up, he was concentrating hard. 

“If you agree with his decision then why did you come and meet me?” he asked, finally talking again. 

“Because, I care about you. I couldn’t just never speak to you again - after everything y’know?”

He bit his lip.

“You still care about me even after all those things you said?”

It was your turn to go silent. You suppose you’d been expecting it to come up, but then again you were praying that it wouldn’t. Trying to explain the multitude of crossed wires and screaming signals in your mind was too difficult. You still didn’t like what went down, or the kind of work he did, but given more time to reflect, you were able to distance yourself from the situation and appreciate what he’d said that night before you'd kissed him. The person on the field and the person in front of you were separate although intertwined, they were day and night.

Inexplicably you wanted to stick around for the daytime, despite the darkness he was capable of. 

“I don’t know where I fall on it all, but… I know that I missed you after not getting to speak to you for a week. I know that I thought about that kiss we had and I felt my lips go tingly every fucking time i did, and now that I say it out loud its really cringy, but you know what? It’s what happened. I think about you all the time, whenever I watch dumb videos and see someone out on a hike somewhere or reviewing some completely over portioned food place I think of you. I think about you and your pictures you show me, and the stories you’ve told me and I drive myself insane thinking about dates we could go on and things I wanna tell you about myself and I just…I want you. I want you in spite of it all. I never want to leave the 141, unless I absolutely have to, but I don’t want this to be the last time we ever speak either.”

König listened to you intently, his face grew soft and he drifted ever closer to you with each word that you said. His hands hovered across the bar and over onto you, warming your flesh as they grasped your thighs and they drew up to your shoulders.

As soon as you’d finished speaking he was kissing you again, and you were losing yourself to him, breathing him in, Soap and citrus and spice. You wove your hands through his hair and felt the slicked back strands separating through your fingers like grass in the summer. You held him close and kissed him deep, the burn of spirits that still coated your tongue dying as he replaced them with his own sweet taste.

When you separated, you were both breathing heavily, marathon level gasps were leaving your lungs, but you didn’t think much about it. You could feel how blown out your pupils were, you were sure they looked just like his. You smirked at him, and he smiled back, his eyes crinkling. There was still a little paint left behind in the creases. 

“I don’t think that should be our last kiss,” König murmured. 

“I don’t think so either…”

“Then what do we do?” He sighed.

You paused for a moment, feeling horrified at the thought of what you were about to say. Although, even with your mind racing and your heart thundering, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“You’re free some weekends right?”

Next Part Here

[foreverisntenough]

- 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 story will contain fluff; maybe smut and angst- not sure yet!

Note: I was planning on keeping this just for myself so please be nice. I hope you like it! There will definitely be more than this part (don’t know many just yet though)

Chapter 1 - ‘You’re Mine’

It was a warm morning in July. You pulled at your Nike crew socks to fix them after you’d tied the laces of your white sneakers. Popping your AirPods in before heading out the door. You turned the key to lock your apartment and navigated on your phone to Spotify. The volume was too loud, it always was but you wanted to check out for a little. Focus.

You began your run; across a few avenues before hitting 5th Ave. It was your favorite part of the run. The sidewalks were wide, the juxtaposed calm of the busy upper east side raced with your heart. The sun splashing in between scaffolding. You made your way from the 60s into the 70s. At 78th Street you needed to cross to round out the loop.

You stood on the left side, waiting to cross right. You felt as if someone was watching you for some reason, as if you had eyes on you. Your long sleeve Lululemon shirt stuck to your body in sweat. You pulled it up and wiped your forehead with the hem. The pull showed your toned stomach reflecting in the sun. You sponged up a bead of sweat that raced down your long tan legs with your Nike running shorts that slit high on the sides. You tried to breathe as slow as you could and turned the music down as you stepped into the crosswalk. Your Isabel Marant hat covered your eyes slightly blocking your vision as you gazed at the ground but found yourself staring at an odd amount of designer sneakers standing at the opposite corner. In what felt like hours of inspection, actually fleeting seconds, you got closer to them. You deduced it was a group of men, given the size, styles… You’d be lying if you didn’t judge men by their choice of shoes often. Style mattered to you. Not necessarily brands or the price of something but the care someone put into how they presented themselves was important. You glanced up quickly clocking a group of 6 or so men around your age. Your heart faltered at the image so you kept your head down. Like a child, you told yourself if you couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see you. As you stepped up onto the sidewalk, the group now unbelievably close, you snaked through the other people waiting to cross the street to go further uptown. You lowered your headphones volume again…almost to a pause. You overheard the group talking; they were loud. Not obnoxious, they just were goofing around with friends. You clocked the distinct accent almost immediately. It was so specific, it was also so random. What are the odds you hear a Liverpool accent behind you. Sure not 0% considering you were on fifth avenue in New York City but your interest definitely peaked. You had a soft spot for the English city. You loved the people in Liverpool. You went to Liverpool every year, maybe even more often than that with your dad. It was special to you.

The first time you went to Liverpool was just to go to a football game with your Dad. Was it a little frivolous to travel to another country for a game, absolutely, but it was a lot of fun too. You always had an amazing time visiting your Dad’s native country and over time, like he was, became slightly attached emotionally to Liverpool Football Club. You followed from the US waking up early on weekend mornings to watch. It didn’t hurt that the team was cute. Not bad people to follow on Instagram. You found it easy to develop a crush on people you didn’t know. You could build them up, make them apologize for things they never did, deliver on every whim of yours all from the comfort of your head, sitting on your bed. You’d listen to the team’s interviews and memorize the annunciation or stress placed on certain syllables in their varied accents. You’d be quick to zoom in on Instagram holiday photos trying to deduce if they were with women or where they might be. It was addicting. It was also harmless, they didn’t know you, you didn’t know them but god, would you want to. Although you wanted to know one particular player. Get to know his face in real life. You wanted to get lost in those dark brown eyes, wanted them to flirt with you. He was beautiful. Like genuinely and objectively beautiful. There were a lot of physical traits about him that made your head spin, your heart race, you just wanted to lick and yet… you’d never exist in that world, holding his gaze, his world.

The accents rang in your ears as you pulled one headphone out to eavesdrop a little, smiling at the familiarity and intricacy of words. You turned your head slightly back to the left looking to find the crosswalk counting down to see when you could start your run again. Before your eyes could land on the descending numbers flashing, your view was obstructed and found yourself looking directly into someone’s eyes. There was a glimmer in the strangers eyes, a warm honey hue. You snapped your gaze, looking back down at your sneakers immediately in shock. ‘What the fucks’ flew around in your head. You could feel he was still staring at you and you weren’t exactly sure what to do. Caged on the sidewalk; unable to cross as the cars proceeded to pass and unable to back away with the people waiting behind you. You laughed in your head at how ridiculous you were being about simple eye contact. ‘This is a complete stranger… relax’ you told yourself. When you mustered up the courage to pick your eyes up and your heart off the floor you got lost. Those eyes. You squint your eyes under your hat questioning what the hell was happening. There he was… in the flesh.. looking at you. He looked angel like. His skin soft, placing his hand on his forehead over his eyes to block the sun to take a closer look back at you. His amber smell wafted towards you. He was all consuming. You felt crazy. What honestly was happening. His plump lips pulled at the corner revealing the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. It sank in your stomach that this stranger wasn’t a stranger at all. An internet obsession genuinely was stood in front of you. You couldn’t help but smile back. A panicked confidence came over you. It was innate, instinctual, you had to; you reached out your arm and lightly grabbed at his. He looked at you slightly surprised but also smug. He knew he had a gravitational pull on people and he was not particularly upset that it worked on people that looked like you too. You felt the words slipping out from your lips but a static fuzz filled your brain.

“Sorry, are you Trent Alexander Arnold?” You already knew the answer.

His smile got bigger, he seemed flattered. He looked at you with sincerity. And then he spoke…

“Yeah, and you are?” His voice laced with his accent was smooth, heavy, beautiful.

You started to question your decision. Why did you say anything to begin with, you had nothing to say to him. You realized quickly your hand was still on him as he stared down at it. You rolled your eyes a little embarrassed and slowly pulled it down his arm. He was intrigued. Despite the internal chaos ensuing inside of you, you presented incredibly calm, smooth, and as your hand brushed over his, pulling back to your side, sexy. He stared at your collar bones and the dip in your throat, a drop of sweat ran down your tan skin. He studied its path. Watching it trace over the bone and then over a little scar, he observed it absorb into your top. He was embarrassed in his own mind that he wanted to watch the sweat keep rolling down your body, sans shirt.

“Y/N” you spoke quietly.

“This is kind of mad to run into you here, you know?” You babbled and he looked amused at the speed of your words as you continued. “I have been in Liverpool a lot, I guess just England in general a lot and never could imagine running into someone like you and definitely didn’t think I’d ever be here.”

“Yeah? Someone like me?” He asked.

It was flirty. Suggestive. Was he flirting with you? Maybe he was just being nice but you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild staring at the veins on his hands.

“What you doing over in Liverpool” he questioned you with a raised brow.

“Oh, erm” you weren’t sure how to phrase this. You were a fan, nothing wrong with that but you also didn’t want to freak him out.

“My dad’s from England so we go a lot and I follow the prem, I guess…We usually go to a game or two up north every year..” you explained. He seemed calmed by your honesty.

“See anything of interest up north?” your breath hitched at his words and his eyes boring back at you. You laughed a little, he was more charismatic than you maybe ever gave him credit for. Definitely reserved and quiet but he was entertaining the conversation pushing it in a direction you thought that you must’ve been dreaming.

“Had my eyes on something at Anfield, sure” you smirked. He watched your pink lips curl. It was enticing, he licked over his top lip then his bottom in response and hummed.

“Where are you staying?” you stopped his thoughts. “Sorry, you don’t have to ans…” you awkwardly tried to not pry.

“The Plaza” he cut you off. You returned his smile at the fact that he had been staying in such close proximity; right under your nose, blissfully unaware.

“Best area.” You spoke again. “Upper East Side will always be it for me but I’m biased because I live here.” You held your hands up in innocence.

“You live near here?” he asked, taking a small step towards you. His body so close to yours.

“A few blocks down and over on Park Ave” you pointed ambiguously, telling him. His eyes traced your body intently. It very quickly washed over you how sweaty you were. This isn’t the way you’d ideally want to look meeting someone you fancied, let alone him.

“I swear I don’t always look like this” you paused, shaking your head “it’s hot” you laughed defending your appearance.

“It is hot” he echoed cheekily, not talking about the weather anymore taking in every inch of your body in front of him.

“I would’ve really preferred having you see me in something else.” Your words were unintentionally suggestive. You slowly shut your eyes hoping he didn’t take your comment the wrong way. His mouth gaped open a little as he laughed

“Oh yeah?” He mocked you. His tease was endearing though.

“How long are you here for?” You needed to change the topic before you passed out from his intense gaze on you.

“Few more days...” he spoke, turning his head up to look at the street. The crosswalk sign had changed to’ walk.’ You felt your heart sink as your little interaction with Trent was going to end. One of the boys from his group walked by you two pinching in between Trent’s shoulder and neck. He winced at the feeling and the boy gave him a knowing look meeting back with the rest of the group. The boys crossed the street, you were stuck watching them so you failed to realize that Trent hadn’t budged. He returned his eyes to you and smiled softly. It made your heart flutter that he maybe still wanted to talk to you. In a panic to keep the conversation alive you blurted out an unsolicited offer without thinking…

“While you’re here, if you need someone to go out with, or just even need recommendations you should hit me up” Your face pulled into a childish grin. His eyes widened at your forwardness. You honestly were surprised at yourself too.

“I don’t really know you though, do I?” He questioned back at you.

You felt a little sick, a little stupid for maybe misreading the situation and conversation. You shyly laughed and rolled your eyes again embarrassed. This whole thing was ridiculous.

“Yeah, well… I don’t really know you either do I?” You mocked his question.

“You do though.” He leaned in a little closer to you.

“No” you paused at his face's closeness. “I don’t know you, I know your name and your face. That’s not really knowing someone is it?” He smirked at your rational. “And honestly, with that, it's only to your benefit. You’re going into this with the upper hand. You already know I think you’re attractive.” You should’ve thought your sentence through a little more but you were caught in the moment.

“Really? I didn’t know I knew that” he quipped.

He was funny, you’ll give him that. Your faux confidence was already dwindling preparing for him to turn you down. Letting a stranger down, rejecting a pass must be awkward and hard for him to do. Although he probably had a lot of practice doing it, his response wasn’t what you’d expected. It just about stopped your heart.

“And what if you knew I thought you were attractive” he almost whispered. It was sexy. Your brow furrowed genuinely because you had believed he was about to reject you.

“Are you sure?” you asked so quickly looking up at him in confusion. He thought your ignorance was cute.

“Yeah, I’ve got eyes haven’t I? I can see what’s in front of me. You caught my eye across the street before you even snuck your way next to me” You blushed at the idea he was already looking at you before you even had clocked him. You felt like someone might’ve been watching earlier but you couldn’t have dreamed it would be him.

It felt like it happened in slow motion as you watched his hand come closer to you. The back of his knuckle traced your highlighted cheekbone. Goosebumps arose all over your skin. Before he could remove his hand he heard a loud familiar whistle and was thrust back into reality that he was standing on the corner of the street. He gestured to the group he was with to hold on a second.

“Let me take you out tonight” he ask calmly

“You don’t really know me though, do you?” You quickly hit back making a smug face he wasn’t impressed with.

“Let me get to know you then” he cooed. You looked around you as if people might overhear you, like your response was just meant for him.

“Yeah. I’d like that” you said hush.

“Gimme your number” he said as he forced his phone at you. Your eyes stuck watching the group across the street monitoring the situation. Were they staring because of you, because he does this a lot? Or rather never does this? The questions poured into your head but the harsh sun reflecting off his phone into your face brought you back down to earth. You typed your number into his phone, saving your name with a little ‘🗽’ emoji as a contextual reminder and gave him his phone back.

The gears in your mind were still turning. What honestly just happened that you were holding a Liverpool football player's phone. Trent smiled seeing your name and the little emoji.

“Y/N L/N” he repeated.

“That’s me” grinning back.

He placed his phone in his pocket and lifted his arm again and reached to stoke your arm. You shivered at the touch.

You blew some air out your mouth in disbelief at the events unfolding. You weren’t sure what to do with the lull in the conversation now but Trent seemed comfortable in the silence.

“If you’re still heading up fifth, my favorite view of the city skyline is up at the reservoir. You ever been?” You softly suggested. He dragged his hand back up your arm.

“Nah, should I?” he asked. Focused more on the feeling of your skin than your words.

“It’s nice if you have the time. Good for the gram.” You laughed.

“Important” he replied as you stared at his hand continue to stroke your arm

“Very” you confirmed. He rocked backwards a little

“So I’m gonna see you tonight, yeah?” He said looking at your face once more as he dropped his hand from you.

“Yeah, yeah” you responded not totally sure that would actually happen but you were happy with this little conversation to hold in your mind forever. His smell, his gaze on you, saying you were attractive. Even if he was lying, you’d still take it from him. You bite your cheek before speaking again.

“If I don’t see you ” you paused and he looked at you confused. “It was nice to meet you” you said sweetly. He started laughing and shaking his head.

“I’m going to see you, trust me” he winked at you. It felt like you could fall over. Your legs felt like jello.

“Go on then, finish your run” he said tilting his head, gesturing down the avenue you were at.

“Absolutely not. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you watch me run down the block now” you were embarrassed by the idea of trying to exercise in front of someone who did it for a living.

“I like what I’ve seen so far, don’t deprive me of a nice view” his tone dripping with ideas.

You were shocked at the tone. You liked it. It was sweet and full of suggestion. You wanted to just listen to him talk for hours.

“I’m going to walk this way” you spoke up pointing down the street emphasizing the word ‘walk’ a little teasingly.

“See you, yeah?” He winked.

“Yeah, I trust you” you said, walking a bit away from him.

It felt like leaving a friend but also nothing like that. You craved so much more knowing he wasn’t one. You needed more of him. He was intoxicating, he felt like you took a shot of liquor. You felt light headed, the world blurred around you, giggling to yourself at the feeling in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you. You put your headphones back in and made your way down the street. You started to text your sister about the flirty encounter with the footballer but you didn’t want to jinx anything. Maybe you actually would see him later. That going to happen fell on Trent though; he was the one with your number, he was on his holiday. It didn’t seem likely to happen but he seemed so nice at the very least you’d hope he’d have the courtesy to tell you he couldn’t meet. You looked back towards where he was wanting to relive those minutes over and over again. Your eyes met again. He had his on you still. He squinted trying to follow your path and he smiled.

Trent crossed the street towards the group of boys nonchalantly, he was playing off how smitten he had just become with a complete stranger.

“What the fuck was that?” one of the boys looked at him as Trent embarrassingly bit onto his lip still watching you.

“Yeah, she was fit but like did you need to get the whole life story or…” another boy said.

“Did you know her?” The comments and questions came flooding in from the group confused at the interaction. To answer what you had wondered earlier. No, Trent didn’t do this a lot, igniting more of an inquiry. He kept to himself a lot of the time. Of course he’d get with girls back at home and on holidays and such but right now he was sober, it was in the middle of the day, on the street, and he seemingly was drooling over someone he’d never spoken to before. This was out of character.

“I honestly feel like I know her,” Trent spoke, trying to clear his throat. “Gonna see her tonight,” he informed them. The boys bustled with noise and confusion

“What about our dinner tonight?” Someone questioned

“You’ll figure it out. I’ll meet you after to go to that event.” Trent calmed the group still watching you as you looked back once more at him before turning the corner out of his view. He didn't like that he couldn’t see you anymore. He felt like he needed to study you more. The image of sweat dripping down your body had him down bad. It shouldn’t have affected him like that. He questioned why he was aching for you. He didn’t even know you. He exhaled confused. He could hear your voice replaying in his head. Soft and sweet, was it suggestive? Was he making it up?

“She didn’t even ask for a picture with me, ya know” he spoke quietly towards his brother in the group. Trent didn’t want to look like a melt to his friends so opted to confide in him. With his brothers he couldn’t really embarrass himself; they were so close.

“Maybe she doesn’t care about that,” Trent’s brother Tyler responded. Trent grunted slightly annoyed that you weren’t fawning and falling over him like he’d want. What he didn’t know was that you had actually been nauseous at the sheer idea of speaking with him. Tyler watched his face change.

“That bother you?” He asked. Trent looked back at him unsure.

“Don’t know… just not sure why I feel like this. Like I thought she was into me but the more I think about it” he paused reflecting “maybe I was just pushing a narrative in my head. She didn’t exactly seek me out, it was by chance, she was minding her business” his heart hurt a little at the thought.

“You just don’t stand that close to someone you don’t know and aren’t interested in” Tyler quipped back.

“Yeah?” Trent questioned his sincerity.

“She was grossly close to you. Made me a little sick not gonna lie '' a voice from behind them piped up. Their younger brother Marcel wanted in on the conversation, the gossip about the mystery girl was too good to miss.

“She from here?” His brother questioned

“Mmhmm, I felt like I was almost being played because she gave me everything up front. She told me her name, where she lived, about her dad, she follows footie, told me about visiting Anfield and that. Like I couldn’t build a more ideal woman, she’s a dream and she just stood there like she was somehow at a disadvantage.” Trent ranted.

“Oh” the brothers simultaneously echoed. Marcel looked at Tyler a little concerned about Trent’s vulnerability. Trent was independent and smart but it was often on everyone around him minds if people were trying to take advantage of or attempting to use Trent for something.

“She’s been to a game… of yours?” Tyler asked

“I assumed I was there playing. She didn’t really specify”

“The odds of meeting your dream girl like this on the street is mad but then again it’s you Trentski. If you really want to go find out more.. I guess shoot your shot.” Marcel tried to be honest but still support him…

“You think it’s bad to text now?” Trent cautiously asked. His brothers just laughed at him.

“Why are you being like this bro? You’re down so bad already and you don’t even know her. What did she do to you!” They exclaimed, clinging to each other continuing to give Trent shit for his lack of confidence.

“What am I doing?” Trent felt ridiculous; where did his conviction go? He needed to not let you get this in his head. Yet the only thing playing in his mind were images of you.

“What the fuuuucckk” he groaned.

“Relax bro, just go and maybe you’ll get to release a little” his brother joked about Trent’s obvious growing crush. The innuendo made Trent’s heads spin. His brothers kept talking but all he could think about was you peeling the sweaty clothes off your body at home. He wanted to be there for that. He needed the girl he didn’t know he would even meet an hour ago.

“This is embarrassing” he said despite hitting send on a text he was terrified of.

You sat on your bed after showering. If there was any luck in life for you he would text you. Your shower was long. The idea of you potentially seeing Trent tonight required you to look your best. The bathroom steamed, you washed your hair twice, exfoliating, shaving absolutely everything. You moisturized like you never had before. Your post shower routine was extensive and so was your skin and hair care. The idea of him even near your body had you giddy. You had to wonder if he was that clever and smooth with everyone. You felt the character you had built up in your mind from behind an on screen image had been torn to shreds by his unwavering confidence, his eyes glimmering, his composure. He wasn’t anything you imagined. He was much much better.

Your phone pinged, the screen illuminating with a new text. You tried to tell yourself to relax. It was probably going to be your mom to be realistic but there lied the unknown uk number on your phone. You squeezed your eyes shut, your leg now bouncing up and down a little. ‘What the fuck it’s just a text. You’re embarrassing’ you spoke to yourself. Your stomach dropped as you swiped to read the new message.

“The reservoir?”

It was so simple but you felt your heart racing. You wanted to be quick in response not knowing how he was with his phone and you didn’t want to miss your opportunity. You were trying not to think too much as you hit send.

“The reservoir.” You confirmed.

“Going to make me way there and let you know what I think” his response was quick in return.

“Please do 😉” you typed and deleted the wink emoji 1000 times but just said fuck it. Every moment exchanged with Trent felt like it could be your last so you decided you were going to try not to hold back.

A genuine full smile swept across Trent’s face.

“She responded I’m assuming” Tyler watched his brother’s expression change. Trent didn’t want to get into how excited he was feeling about something as small as an emoji.

“mmhmm” he hummed, not picking up his gaze from the wink you sent.

“Dinner with me tonight?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed”

“Got one condition though..”

You weren’t sure what the condition could be. As much as you two had joked, you really didn’t know him at all. You couldn’t predict anything he was going to do or say. It put you on edge but you loved the thrill of standing there.

“You have to pick the place because you’re the local” Trent’s message read. You smiled, it was sweet and more wholesome than you anticipated. You couldn’t stop trying to read into everything he has said though. Was this a date for him?

“Fine, I’ll be sure to pick something good then. 8:00 pm is okay, yeah?”

“All good. Also 8:00 pm… try 20:00?”

“No no no. None of that. You’re in my city now”

“Yeah? Going to show me a good time in your city”

He sent it and started to regret it. He still questioned if you were as into him as he was into you. He didn’t want to imply he was looking just a quick fuck. He definitely wanted to have sex with you, like embarrassingly so but might actually be a little disappointed in that alone because you peaked his interest. He wanted to listen to you. He wanted to watch your eyes flicker over him. He wanted to hear your accent accentuate words.

Contrary to his beliefs, you felt like you were going to scream. Like you were a 12 year old girl with a boy band obsession. Did he want you like that? What if you read his text with the wrong inflection? You threw caution to the wind at this point and you dove into sending him a response.

“Promise xx. Will see how you are on the date”

“Date, yeah?”

“Oh.. Is it not?” you immediately responded to him. You felt so nervous. Blood rushing to your face embarrassed you had misread everything.

“Nah, it definitely is. Can’t wait to see more of you later 🤤”

His response, especially the emoji, made your mind race with dirty thoughts. You understand he probably just meant ‘seeing’ you as meeting up again but you wanted him to literally see more. You wanted to have him drooling. You wanted his lips on yours. You wanted to have him thinking about you. You just had to get through this date successfully for that to even be an option.

•

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.

Moving slow but we’re just getting started xx

Next part is up - Chapter 2

[efangamez]

Yoooooo the GRIM expansion "The Palace of Eyes" has some actually NUTS lore. The work for the content is almost finished, but it needs to get fine tuned for publication while I include it in the handbook.

I'll be talking a bit about it here, so if you don't wanna possibly get ANY spoilers, you can dip now!!!

Okay so because I have pretty chronic pain in my fingers I'm going to be using text to speech or speech to text to share some of this information. So this will be my first time writing something that has like time travel and dimension travel shenanigans and the way that I was inspired by Metal Gear Solid to have these wild storylines all going on at once with some twists and turns but it's still kind of holds together through lower explanations is really really cool. I've honestly had a blast making every one of the story beats come together in one giant epic of a story to be honest with you.

There are actual pieces of lore in here that were crafted not only because they were cool but because they are thematic and have almost a cinematic and ideological feel to them. I think that the more that I build worlds and the more that I come to terms with who I am as a person the more fleshed out and well built stories can be created through my games. I kind of realized that when I made Neon Nights and some of my other games. I thought that if I just made a system that had a little bit of scaffolding I think that would be enough but to me I really do think that just like in a video game playing in a world where you are able to explore and uncover mysteries and be shocked by events I think it's really really cool and I like that. I think that's because one of my strengths and interests is in narrative and while I've gotten older I don't really have the patience too much anymore for prose, but I have fallen in love even more with World building and creating narratives with that World building if that makes sense.

I think that this expansion will not only be a really fun thing to explore within the GRIM multiverse but to also kind of look within yourself and to relate to some of these characters in their struggles and to kind of be invested in their stories and what's cool about tabletop games is that their stories are not fleshed out all the way. The scaffolding is there with strong connections to the world but the way that you the players will interact and the way that the watcher who is basically the standing for GM or DM in a game will be completely unique. I think that that's one of the powerful components of an RPG. And while GRIM may not have the most robust mechanics for role-playing in a system or using a system to roleplay rather you can still create Grand narratives by just being interpersonal with your players.

I don't know I just kind of wanted the info dump a little bit and not have my fingers hurt while I type so that's why I use speech to text. I'm really really excited working on this. I have over 34 pages of content in a document that hasn't even been designed yet. This thing is going to be a big lad probably over 100 pages at least. It's going to be kind of hard also to price this at $9.99 but I think that to me what matters most is getting this out there and kind of showing off my talents as well as giving people an awesome epic to play along with GRIM.

Anywho I hope you have a fantastic day today! Make sure you drink your water you eat your food and you take care of yourselves. Love ya!

[enlitment]

top 5 frev women?

Thanks for the ask! Oh, this one's going to be tough as well. But let's see...

Lucile Desmoulins

Much more than a pair of fine eyes, Lucile was, like her husband, heavily invested in politics. She shared Camille's convictions and is even reported to have defended him in front of others. She did pay the price for her loyalty in the end, when she was only my age (though it should be noted that the whole Germinal/Indulgent business is much more complex to be accurately presented in this short overview of course).

I also really like her writing! Her 'advice' to Marie Antoinette is definitely quite something. Go read it if you haven't! Her diary is also at times quite relatable. ("I feel that I am born to live far from men. The more I examine them, the more I seek to understand them, the more I see that one should flee from them.”)

Bonus - my favourite quote of hers on women's place in society:

To hear [men] speak, we are celestial beings, nothing is equal to us. Ah! may they deify us less and leave us free!

2. Simone Évrard

I have to confess I was sleeping on Simone for the longest time, but she is such an interesting figure! She continued to be so supportive of Marat even when times were incredibly tough for him. I'm convinced he wouldn't be able to achieve half as much as he did if it weren't for her. She then went on to defend his legacy long after his death, despite the fact that it caused quite a few problems for her. I find her incredibly inspiring!

3. Charlotte Robespierre

Listen, I'm always going to appreciate a single lady who made it her life's mission to try and take charge of the narrative.

In all seriousness, I'm still not quite sure how her mind worked, but I find her incredibly interesting. Especially the way she seemed to be so protective or Maximilien (re: Éléonore?), both during his life and after his death. She also seemed to have been so strong-willed, much like her brother, perhaps even more so. The fact that she accompanied Augustin to suppress the revolt in Nice is still kind of mind-blowing to me. And the fact that she was supposedly going to marry Fouché at one point? One of my favourite historical what-ifs, honestly. Just imagine!

(That said, my knowledge of her is quite lacking. If anyone can recommend a good biography on Charlotte, I'd be really thankful!)

4. Olympe de Gouges

Okay, here's a controversial one!

Obligatory 'am not a Girondist!', but I feel that I still have to give her some credit for her feminist ideas. Yes, her feminism was centred on upper-class women, but I still see her contributions as an important first step. Déclaration des droits de la Femme et de la Citoyenne is one of the most crucial documents in the history of feminism in my opinion.

I also appreciate the fact that while classist, her feminism was much less 'white-only' than that of a lot of women that came after her (case in point a lot of the Seneca Falls suffragettes in 19th century America). Again, not all of her views on slavery probably stand up to the test of time, but I will always appreciate anyone in the 18th century who expresses abolitionists sentiments, which she did.

She is also the author of many of my favourite french revolution era quotes:

"A woman has the right to mount the scaffold. She must possess equally the right to mount the rostrum."

She has a point and honestly? Well said.

(Side note - also kind of obsessed with her address to Robespierre. "I suggest we should bathe together in the Seine but to entirely depurgate you of those blemishes with which you have smeared yourself since 10th June, we should attach sixteen or twenty-four pound cannon balls to our feet , and together race into the flood ….")

That said, the narrative that she was executed for her feminist views is both incorrect and extremely tiring.

5. Pauline Léon

How can I not mention the leader of female Sans-culottes herself? To counter de Gouges, let me mention another French revolutionary feminist that is - in a lot of ways - an antithesis to Olympe, since she was: a) a radical republican b) a member of the working class.

She seemed to have been incredibly courageous and always managed to find herself right in the centre of the action (Bastille, Champ de Mars...). There are unfortunately not that many resources on her as on some of the other female figures, but I think her story is incredibly important. More so for the fact that she was one of female revolutionary figures we know at least something about that wasfrom a working class - as opposed to upper class - background.

My favourite fact about her is that she wanted to establish all-female militia group to defend the country against counter-revolutionaries. Not going to lie, it was a wild proposal, but it would be kind of amazing to see it happen.

(It was not easy to find her portrait, but this should be her I hope?)