#taxi madrid

[taxi7plazasmadrid]

Reserve su Taxi en #Madrid y asegúrese de la disponibilidad. Hasta 6 Pasajeros!!! RESERVAS POR MENSAJE 📲 #taxi7plazasmadrid #unlujopormuypoco✴ #poraquíenmadrid #madridenfamilia #madridconniños #madridentreamigos #traslados #viajes #visitmadrid #visitamadrid #madridmola #spacetaxitothesky🎵 #spacetaxi🎵 #demadridalcielo🍃

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

I GOT TO THE AVE THREE MINUTES BEFORE LEAVING I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS STRESSED IN MY LIFE

[taxi-bambino]

Why Booking a Family Taxi with Car Seat in Stockholm is a Game-Changer for Your Vacation

Planning a family vacation can be both exciting and challenging, especially when it comes to ensuring the safety and comfort of young children. One of the crucial aspects of family travel is transportation. In a bustling city like Stockholm, securing reliable and safe transport is essential. Booking a family taxi with a car seat can transform your vacation experience, providing convenience, safety, and peace of mind. Here’s why it’s a game-changer:

Convenience and Peace of Mind

Travelling with children often means carrying extra luggage, strollers, and other necessities. Managing public transportation with all these items can be daunting. By booking a family taxi with a car seat, you eliminate the hassle of navigating through crowded buses or trains. Your driver will pick you up from your location and take you directly to your destination, allowing you to focus on enjoying your vacation. This door-to-door service is especially beneficial when travelling with young children, who may get tired or restless with long waits and transfers.

Safety First

Safety is paramount when travelling with children. Swedish law mandates that children under 135 cm (approximately 4 feet 5 inches) must use an appropriate child restraint system while travelling in a car. Booking a family taxi with a car seat ensures that you comply with these regulations and that your child is safe during your travels. Professional taxi services provide properly installed and well-maintained car seats, giving you peace of mind knowing that your child is secure.

Comfort for the Whole Family

A family taxi equipped with a car seat ensures that every member of your family travels in comfort. Unlike public transport, where seating can be unpredictable and cramped, a private taxi offers ample space and a comfortable environment. This is particularly important for young children who may need to nap during the ride. Additionally, having a car seat that fits your child perfectly means they are more likely to remain calm and comfortable throughout the journey, making your travel experience more pleasant.

Time Efficiency

Time is precious on vacation, and wasting it on inefficient transportation can be frustrating. A family taxi allows you to travel directly to your destinations without unnecessary stops. This is especially advantageous when visiting popular tourist spots in Stockholm, where public transport may be crowded and slow. By opting for a taxi, you can make the most of your time, visiting more attractions and creating memorable experiences with your family.

Stress-Free Arrival and Departure

Arriving and departing from airports or train stations can be stressful, particularly with young children in tow. Booking a family taxi with a car seat simplifies this process. Your driver can assist with luggage and ensure that you reach your destination smoothly and promptly. This is particularly useful when you have early morning or late-night flights, as it minimises the disruption to your children’s routines and keeps the entire family calm and collected.

FAQs

1. How do I book a family taxi with a car seat in Stockholm?

Booking a family taxi with a car seat in Stockholm is simple. Many taxi companies offer online booking services where you can specify your needs. Look for companies that explicitly mention car seats in their services. Alternatively, you can call the taxi service and request a car seat when making your reservation. It's advisable to book in advance to ensure availability, especially during peak travel times.

2. Are the car seats provided by taxi services safe and up to standard?

Yes, reputable taxi services in Stockholm provide car seats that meet the safety standards set by Swedish law. These car seats are regularly inspected and maintained to ensure they are in good condition. When booking, confirm that the car seat is suitable for your child’s age and size. Professional drivers are trained to install the car seats correctly, ensuring your child’s safety.

3. Can I bring my own car seat for the taxi ride?

Yes, you can bring your own car seat if you prefer. However, this can be cumbersome, especially if you are traveling with other luggage. Booking a taxi with a car seat eliminates the need to carry and install your own, providing added convenience. If you do choose to bring your own car seat, ensure it meets Swedish safety regulations and inform the taxi company in advance.

4. Is it more expensive to book a family taxi with a car seat?

The cost of booking a family taxi with a car seat may be slightly higher than a standard taxi fare due to the additional service provided. However, the benefits far outweigh the extra cost. The convenience, safety, and comfort provided by a family taxi with a car seat contribute to a stress-free and enjoyable vacation experience. It’s an investment in your family’s well-being and peace of mind during your travels.

Conclusion

In conclusion, booking a family taxi with a car seat in Stockholm is a wise choice for families looking to maximise their vacation experience. It offers unparalleled convenience, safety, comfort, and time efficiency, ensuring that your family can focus on creating lasting memories in one of Europe’s most beautiful cities.

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[carabanchelnet]

📌Sánchez triunfa en ‘El Hormiguero’ frente a Pablo Motos | Vídeos 📌Sumar expone sus propuestas para atajar la emergencia climática 📌El Gobierno modifica la ley para limitar las VTC por criterios medioambientales y de tráfico 📌Santiago Segura y su lío con Hacienda https://carabanchel.net

[unfoldingnarratives]

Blast from the past, as we train for the future #Madrid #taxi #blastfromthepast #onmywayto training #flashback https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp04HIlMovq/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[enalfersa]

VOX consigue mejorar la Ley del Taxi y VTC

El GPVOX insiste en defender la convivencia de ambos sectores con medidas de control a las VTC para evitar la competencia desleal con el taxi. Una vez más, VOX ha apostado por una ley justa que garantice la igualdad de condiciones entre el taxi y las VTC. En este caso, El Grupo Parlamentario VOX en la Asamblea de Madrid ha logrado incluir seis propuestas que mejoran la Ley de Ordenación y…

[randombush3]

recuérdame

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 1185 (treat this like a prologue ok x)

notes: i hope this actually takes off as a new series so i'm posting it now while i think about what comes next xx

There’s something groggy about the darkness in your mind. It’s not an eyes-closed kind of black; not a piece of white paper doused in ink. 

It’s thick like smog. Grainy. 

And all of a sudden, you are awake. 

There’s an incessant pounding in your mind that is sharp and rhythmic. The lights are too harsh, too much. The bed is hard under your heavy bones. 

You blink and even that small movement is strange, harder than it should be. 

The ceiling is peppered with small, grey dots. It’s terribly ugly, but your eyes cling to it as you try to shake off the haze. 

Slowly, the rest of the room comes into focus: sterile whites, beeping machines, tubes splaying out across what must be your body but feels like deadweight. The steady noise draws your attention after a moment, the sound seeming to echo inside your head. You turn, neck stiff and crunching, to catch a glimpse of a monitor, green lines spiking across its screen. 

The tubes aren’t just on top of you. They must be inside you. 

Something twists in your stomach. 

“You’re… awake.” 

…

No one really knows what to say to Alexia when she receives the call. 

Training is running over, the sun is beginning to set, and the girls are getting restless. The drill is nothing special, and the boredom it brings infects their captain, too, despite her valiant attempts at maturity. 

Alexia wants to get home, tonight of all nights. 

Five days ago, a work trip left her alone with a daughter that isn’t quite hers. There has been an other-mother shaped hole in the family ever since. Madrid continues to be evil. Her Catalan pride is vindicated once more. 

So when Pere blows his whistle, she all but sprints into the changing room (much to her coach’s dismay, since training ended because he assumed no one could run at that speed anymore), image of picture-perfect leadership be damned. 

Her shower is fast, clothes are shoved on even faster, and she is just about to walk through the automatic exit doors when her phone rings. 

A location update, she assumes. Or a complaint from an impatient tweenager (god, they seem to be fountains of those). 

It’s to her horror that she is incorrect. 

The nurse on the other line is eerily calm, but does not waste time beating around the bush. Her instructions are clear: come to the hospital now. 

“I think my fiancée has just died,” Alexia tells no one in particular. 

The team isn't sure whether or not she is joking. 

That was a week ago, and now she is here, in the hospital. Her bum is accustomed to the hard plastic chairs, her schedule skewed until the doctors finally wake you up from a medically induced coma. Amaia, her stepdaughter, is at her friend’s house, the boy’s mother insisting she care for her while Alexia makes a rather practical visit to the hospital. 

Alexia’s hands shake as she brings them to her face, rubbing her temples. The past week has been wrapped around her like a noose, suffocating and taut. She’s holding herself together but she is doing an uncharacteristically catastrophic job at it. Her mind is still tangled up in the phone call she’d received – and the many others she’d had to make after the nurse had hung up. Although there has been a swarm of activity (flights landing, taxis to the hospital, meals arriving at her front door with well-meaning notes attached), life has felt still. Stagnant. 

She is stuck in something she doesn’t know how to deal with. 

She closes her eyes for a second and inhales with as much steadiness as she can muster, letting the beeping of your monitor anchor her back to the present. It’s a strange sound to feel grateful for, each pulse a reminder that you are still here. With her. 

They have been gradually reducing the sedatives administered to you, making the answer to her question always ‘she will wake up when she wakes up’. The twitches in your finger have grown old now, and she is becoming very impatient. 

“If you wanted a holiday, we could’ve taken time off,” she tells you with a forced chuckle. “You didn’t need to get yourself into a…” 

You shift slightly in the bed. Alexia’s eyes snap open, her body surging upwards in hope. 

“Come on…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please…”

Your eyelids flutter, hesitant, like they’re testing the weight of the world behind them. She hopes: at least it’s something. 

And it could be more, surely? It should be any minute now, according to the doctors. The wait will be over and she can get you back.

It’s been fifteen days since Alexia saw the eyes she fell in love with. 

Words fall out of her mouth but she barely registers them, staring at you listlessly, unprepared for this moment. She had thought about it, of course, imagining how to go about updating you on what you’ve missed: how Amaia’s match yesterday ended in a draw; how her own was a sizable but unsatisfying win. 

She wants to say things she should say more. Reminders, confessions. She wants to let out the anger that you did this to her; that you left, that you didn’t come back. And how she wants to hold you, kiss you, love you even more.

But the first thing Alexia notices behind bleary eyes is terror. Confusion. And, what she had told herself would not happen: a lack of recognition. 

I’m in a hospital, you think, but I don’t know who is here with me. 

The moment stretches on, thin and frail, and Alexia feels the tautness in her stomach like a rope holding dead weight over a cliff. Her heart – bruised, aching, impatient – is pierced by the way you look at her with poorly-masked indifference. 

“Hi,” she tries, waiting for you to come back fully, wanting to skip the part where it hurts so much. Her hand reaches out, hovering above your own, fingers aching to touch you, but she holds back. “Do you know where we are?” 

She should really call the nurse in, but she can’t quite bring herself to disrupt this. 

Your eyes flicker, glancing at the tubes and machines. The mattress hasn’t gotten any softer, nor your body any lighter. “Hospital,” you whisper, throat scratchy and hoarse. The word appears in your mind as almost foreign, coming from somewhere deeper than the blankness of the surface. Then your gaze drifts back to her, the hopeful woman at your bedside, brows furrowing as you struggle to place her into a life you can’t quite recall. Not that you’ve tried; you’ve got a screaming headache. 

The question on your lips twists Alexia’s insides. She anticipates it, with an instinctiveness that almost frustrates you. “I’m Alexia,” she says. She doesn’t sound sure. 

You stare through her and the distance clutches at her neck. Her nightmare lands, cold and final. 

“I’m… sorry. I don’t,” and like how she knows the question, she is well aware of the end of that sentence. 

[uniquexusposts]

Driver of the day | C. Leclerc

Summary: Charles is asked to pick up the little sister of his best friend at the airport.

Charles Leclerc drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his sunglasses shielding him from the Riviera's afternoon sun. Theo, one of his best friends, sat beside him, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, occasionally glancing up at the chaos of Nice Airport’s Kiss and Ride.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Theo asked, flicking through his notifications. “There are better things to do than standing here unnecessarily long.”

“Because her brother asked,” Charles replied without looking over.

Theo snorted. “Right, and when he asks, you jump. Got it.”

Charles didn’t bother responding, his attention shifting to the waiting crowd. “He said she would be standing near the main pickup area.”

Theo squinted through the windshield, his eyes scanning the line of travellers, some were leaving, others arrived. “What does she even look like now? It’s been, what, four years?”

Charles shrugged. “Same as before, I guess. Short, shy, always in oversized dresses or black clothing...”

“And braces,” Theo added with a grin. “Don’t forget the braces.”

They both laughed, their shared image of Y/n frozen in the awkward teenage years when they teased her relentlessly. But then Theo straightened, leaning closer to the window. “Wait... oh, shit, is that her?”

Charles frowned, following Theo’s gaze. His grip on the wheel loosened as his eyes landed on a woman standing by a suitcase. She was polished, confident, elegant, and nothing like the Y/n they remembered. “Holy shit, indeed,” he muttered.

Theo leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. “No way. That’s not her. That’s... someone else. Has to be.”

“She’s standing exactly where your brother said she would be,” Charles said, his voice quieter now.

Theo grinned, recovering quickly. “Well, if it’s not her, at least we are about to make a stranger’s day.” He rolled down the window and leaned out, his smirk wide. “Need a taxi to Monaco?”

The woman turned toward them, and her expression shifted from confusion to surprise to annoyance as recognition flickered across her face.

“Yep, that’s her,” Charles said under his breath, pulling the car into park and stepping out.

Y/n’s voice carried as she looked at them. “What are you two doing here? Where’s my brother?”

Charles grinned, slipping his sunglasses up onto his head. “Something came up. He sent us instead.”

Theo was already out of the car, circling to grab her suitcase. “And lucky for us, too. Although... we almost didn’t recognise you.”

Charles nodded, his grin turning a touch softer as he studied her. “We were expecting the old Y/n.”

“The braces. The dresses,” Theo chimed in, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Not... this,” Charles finished, gesturing toward her with a vague wave of his hand.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp. “This?”

Theo smirked. “You know, the whole ‘looking like you just walked off a runway’ thing.”

Charles chuckled as he opened the back door for her. “Ignore him. He’s not used to surprises.”

Y/n sighed, brushing past them to climb into the car. “And I see you two haven’t changed at all.”

Theo hoisted her suitcase into the trunk, laughing. “Still bossy. Yep, it’s definitely her.”

As they returned to the car and Charles merged into traffic, Theo twisted in his seat, looking back at her. “So, what’s Madrid been like? Because, clearly, it did something to you.”

Charles shook his head, his grin lingering as he watched Y/n through the rearview mirror. “Careful, Theo. You might not survive the ride to Monaco if you keep that up.”

Theo and Y/n gasped when Charles braked hard. Y/n’s hand reached for the door for a grip, and her eyes grew round.

“Why is he driving?” She asked.

A grin formed on Theo’s lips. “You know, he needs to practice his normal driving skills in a normal car on a normal road every once in a while.”

“Theo, what the fuck,” Charles replied with an annoyed sigh.

For the first time, a smile formed on Y/n’s lips. “Glad you force him to because I can’t tell this is an F1 driver for Ferrari.”

Laughter from Theo filled the car, even to the point he started to cough and gasp for air. Y/n couldn’t help, but laugh as well, but she silently laughed. It was silent at the driver's side, as Charles didn’t know how to react. However, he could smile at her comment as it made her laugh.

★

The car pulled into the Maison's driveway, the sound of the engine echoing softly through the otherwise peaceful area. As Charles slowed down, Y/n glanced out the window, smiling at the familiar surroundings.

As Charles steered the car to the front door, Theo leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, this is it.”

Y/n looked at the front door, then around the car and finally at Charles. “You’re really gonna park it like this?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Theo chuckled. "Don’t worry, he’s got normal parking skills." He shot Charles a teasing grin.

Charles muttered something under his breath, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he guided the car into place, clearly trying to ignore the jabs.

Once the car came to a stop, Y/n pushed open the door and stepped out. She grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from their chaotic drive. “You know,” she said, her smile playful, “you might want to stick to F1 tracks, Charles. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Theo’s laughter erupted again, echoing around the driveway. “You should’ve seen her face when he hit the brakes,” he said, his voice nearly cracking with amusement.

Charles rolled his eyes as he exited the car, closing the door behind him. “Very funny,” he muttered.

Y/n turned to face him, a grin still tugging at her lips. “Honestly, I’m just glad I survived that ride. Can’t say the same for my heart, though.”

Charles gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to say that.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood to be your next record,” she replied, still smiling.

“Next time, I’ll make sure you’re in the front seat,” Theo said, his tone mock-serious as he stepped up next to her. “First-row experience.”

“Let’s just get inside,” Charles grumbled, the playful banter finally wearing thin. “I’ll deal with you two later.”

“Ooooooo,” Theo hummed, throwing his hands up.

As they entered the Maison, soft words filled the air. They all walked to the living room, where the words came from. Laurent, Y/n’s brother, was calling. His suit was slightly wrinkled, and his tie was loosened, the telltale signs of a long day at work. He was still in the process of kicking off his shoes when he saw his little sister. A massive smile appeared, and his jaw dropped in excitement. He pointed at his phone and held up his hand, letting them know it would take five minutes. He walked over to Y/n and gave her a hug and a kiss on her hair.

Y/n smiled. Her brother had always been this way: always multitasking and making sure things were in order. It was one of the reasons she admired him so much. She sat down on the couch and looked around. Not much had changed, apart from a few photos and different cushions.

Theo dropped down into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “So, what’s the plan, huh? What do you two want to do first? Tour the place? Hit the beach?”

Charles, who had been quiet while her brother handled the call, shifted his gaze to Y/n. The room felt oddly still for a moment, their shared gaze lingering longer than either of them expected.

Y/n, feeling the weight of the quiet, broke eye contact first and turned to glance at her brother. “Let him finish first, I guess. We’ve got time,” she said lightly, her voice carrying an undertone that belied how restless she felt beneath the surface.

Her brother spoke up, his voice clear despite the distance. “Alright, I’ll be done in a minute. Just trying to sort out a few things. You three get comfortable, help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

Charles stood still for a second, the quiet of the moment pressing down on him, and for the first time since they had arrived, he felt the subtle tension that had built between him and Y/n. It was odd, this unspoken thing between them, as if the space in the room was filled with something more than just casual conversation.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. “I’ll grab us a drink. You good with something, Y/n?”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, startled by his question. “Uh, yeah, sure. Water’s fine.”

“Water it is,” he replied, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“I will take a coke, thank you,” Theo ordered and put up his thumb.

Charles sighed and made his way to the kitchen.

As he walked away, Y/n couldn’t help but glance at him again, watching how he moved so effortlessly. It was a quiet observation, nothing too obvious, but enough to make her heart race just a little. He had become more handsome than she remembered.

“So…” Laurent entered the living room again. He fell beside his little sister on the couch and looked at her. “Welcome back, Y/n/n.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her briefly. “It has been empty here without you.”

Y/n smiled, the familiar warmth of her brother’s presence comforting her. “It’s still home,” she said softly, glancing around the room. Her brother bought this place just before she left for Madrid. She helped him move, but that was all.

“Gonna make sure you’re spoiled during your stay. Got all your favourites lined up, too.”

“Love that.”

“I'm sorry I couldn’t pick you up, but there was a massive accident in Menton. I just arrived back home,” he apologised, feeling bad he couldn’t keep up his promise to pick her up.

“No worries,” she smiled. “It was an… interesting pick-up party.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting how?”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes glancing over to where Charles and Theo had settled in the room. “Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to be picked up by an F1 driver and a…,” she paused, looking at Theo with a teasing grin, “...professional passenger.”

Theo let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “I am not a professional passenger!” He threw his hands up dramatically. “I just prefer to let Charles take the wheel. It’s not my fault he’s too quick to get in and out of trouble.”

Charles, who had been quietly listening, snorted with laughter. “You’re one to talk. You’re just mad because I beat you in the car to Menton the other week.”

Y/n shot them both a playful look. “I’m just glad I’m still alive to tell the tale.”

Charles flashed her a grin. “See? No harm done.”

“Yeah, you say that now.” Y/n crossed her arms, smirking. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I was about to turn into an honorary member of the FIA with that kind of ride.”

Laurent, who was listening to the banter, snickered. “Things haven’t changed, I see. Still bickering like an old married couple.”

“Pff.”

“Shut up.”

“Old married couple,” Theo agreed and sipped from this drink.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “We’re not bickering. I’m just saying Charles could practice more with regular cars. Don’t think Monaco’s tight corners should be his only driving experience.”

Theo burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh, she’s calling you out, Charles. You’ve been called out.”

Charles, trying to keep a straight face, replied, “Okay, okay, maybe I’ll take some tips from the passenger seat next time, just to ensure no one else gets traumatised.”

Y/n gave him a playful side-eye. “Good plan. We’ll be safer that way. I can teach you the tips and tricks.”

The moment was light and familiar—like old times when teasing each other was second nature. Still, as the laughter faded, Y/n couldn’t help but feel something shift in the room. It was subtle, but there was an undeniable weight to the space between her and Charles. Her smile softened as her eyes flicked briefly to him, and she noticed the way his gaze lingered on her before he quickly looked away, his expression unreadable.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins@heart-trees

[forzaferraris]

UH OH ! — cl16. [ series masterlist . part ii . ]

CHAPTER ONE / gorgeous.

❛ you should take it as a compliment, that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talked. ❜

summary : usually, birthday parties are supposed to be a close friend's and family celebration, so why on earth are you being dragged along as your friend's plus one?

warnings : implied references to cheating. food mentions. vomiting mentions but not explicitly written. sexual themes, inuendos. a purposeful choice to refuse to write without capital letters. too many taylor swift references. google translated french. no use of y/n but reader is referred to as soleil by charles and that transfers on through all the fic. charles leclerc's toxic relationship. alcohol consumption, drink responsibly. suddenly charles leclerc is actually decent at flirting. inaccurate storyline of pierre's birthday. 2023's silly season just got sillier. live laugh love kika gomes. word count : 1.7k

yourusername just posted to her story . . .

[ caption one: hot girls always do skincare 🧖🏻‍♀️ / caption two: i fear i girlbossed to close to the sun, how did i end up here ⁉️🤨 ]

THE STREETS OF PARIS , were lively enough that you could blend in seamlessly, everyone else dressed essentially to the nines in their finest attire, walking in and out of all the restaurants in the vicinity. you want to cower, wrap the shall around yourself tighter and hide away; you'd never felt more insecure and out of place in the entire month you'd been vacationing in france, until this very moment.

everyone around you exudes the amount of confidence that comes naturally to them that you wished you had, even if you felt genuinely good in the outfit Kika had practically forced you in when you'd briefly mentioned having nothing to wear to the event she'd asked you to tag along to. a part of you wants to remind yourself that you knew better than to expect things to play out differently, it wants to ridicule you for going back on your usual stance of always expecting disappointment to no longer feel disappointed.

you wave off a taxi that pulls beside you, you're already at your destination, and a fleeting wave of nausea makes you want to clench your gut, and hurl what little you'd eaten earlier throughout the day into the hedges beside you; you don't, thankfully. instead, you resort to the safety of your phone, back-and-forth bickering between your best friend and Kika to work up your nerves to get yourself inside the building.

you feel wobbly on your feet, something you will also plan to blame on Kika when you find the courage to get yourself to walk in through the door of the Laperouse, a considerably more elegant spot to eat at than you would have picked, you only dread the fear of looking over the menu and bearing witness to the prices of the food.

the ding of the bell above the door pulls your head out of your phone when you're met with the silhouette of quite possibly the most attractive man you'd ever had blessed your gaze — excluding that one time you'd run into lorenzo zurzolo on a girls trip to madrid and fumbled the whole ordeal so embarrassingly you had to block him on instagram to keep from ever seeing him.

his actions are almost more exaggerated in frustration than you'd plainly described to your friend, his hand is constantly dragging down his face when he pulls the phone away from his ear, promptly allowing you to hear the snippets of french being, basically, screamed through the phone at him. yikes. the phone call seems to drag on and the amount of time you've been staring at this man can be somewhat considered borderline stalking if he wasn't uninterested in the world outside the french screaming match on the phone.

deciding you'd done enough oogling to satiate for the brieft maladaptive day-dreaming you'll experience during mundane errands. with the very little courage you had, you wipe your hands on your dress, pitifully, and tuck your phone into the clutch before making your way inside. you're blissfully unaware of the way the man had turned towards the noise the heels of your shoes had made against the pavement, his attitude doing a complete 180 had him disregarding the remainder of the phone call before finally giving up, a defeated sigh follows the silence of the call being ended.

'i told you so. . .' your brain supplies when you feel even more out of place being inside said restaurant than how you were simply just standing outside of it, you felt both over and under-dressed watching the mass of patrons standing at the front bar along with the glimpses you could get inside the dining room from where you wait at the hostess stand.

"can i help you?" the hostess asks, words sleek with her french accent as she flicks her gaze up towards you before down at the booking book in front of her. you fiddle with your fingers, white-knuckling the black clutch, suddenly unable to find your own words. the woman rolls her eyes, and taps her perfectly manicured finger against the book and you visibly shake.

"elle est avec moi et la réservation Gasly" a voice speaks, standing behind you, close enough to be flush against you, but remaining a finger length away from you, refusing to lift your head, you don't dare look at who's just saved yourself from any more bouts of unwavering embarrassment for the night.

"profite de ta soirée" the hostess grins, it doesn't shine in her eyes and it's clearly a put-on customer service smile, forced to maintain a friendly atmosphere within the restaurant, you're allowing yourself to be lead through towards the private dining room, stepping away from the man, you mumble a simple thank you in your own butchered french pronunciation as you spot kika and find yourself attached to her hip for a majority of the night.

f1wagsgossip just posted to their story . . .

[ caption one: @yourusername spotted arriving at pierre's birthday party / caption two: @yourusername wearing the monot black maxi cutout ]

now, see if you weren't the type of person to be so easily persuaded into joining in on the drink festivities, you wouldn't have ended up with kika as one of your closest friends. you were never one to turn down alcohol, especially open bar alcohol; which is perhaps why you'd found yourself in a state of being a social butterfly, you'd floated around the room, meals long since eaten and cleared by the wait staff left people standing around and conversing.

mixtures of english, french and portuguese filling the room, bits and pieces of conversations you were picking up, but with your minimal understanding of french you found yourself avoiding anything beyond "hi how are you?" and introducing yourself, aside from that you smile and nodded before politely excusing yourself to float around once more.

"are you purposely ignoring me?" there it is, the sound that would haunt your best dreams and your worst nightmares; the shiver that runs up your spine makes you inadvertently cringe at yourself, how were you this reactive to a voice, you're going to blame the entire thing on the amount of sparkling moscato you'd been drinking by the glass.

"hm? no, no i'm not ignoring you?" you mock his accent, turning around to finally make eye contact with him, lips pursed into a line to keep yourself from giggling, the bubbles in your stomach is either your own nerves, the bubbly alcoholic beverage you'd consumed or a mixture of both — either way you feel content enough to be less than self-aware of the situation.

you can almost see the way he visibly lights up at the interaction, the way can't hold himself back from laughing at your attempt to mock his accent, the way his eyes crinkle and the laughter that follows the expression leaves you virtually speechless, you'd never been in a situation where someone, especially not a man. had ever laughed at you in a way that didn't feel the least bit mocking towards you; his laughter subsides and you feel yourself mourning the noise, head tilting to the side before he's taking a sip from his own glass.

"how do you know pierre?"

"through kika, she's the sole reason i'm here" you explain, gesturing with your hands as you talk, the conversation carries on throughout most of the night, new drinks replacing old ones all whilst the distance between the two of you closing inch by inch and shamelessly, perhaps even a little selfishly you allow it.

you allow more than just close proximity, you allow his knee to knock against your own, the hand to graze your waist as his arm moves around you to put his empty drink on the bar. you allow yourself to meet his gaze, hold it and find yourself lower and lower your own inhibitions. the good, the bad and the ugly of a man who hasn't asked for your name and whose name you hadn't bothered to ask for either.

perhaps, it's the events of the night that led you to here, in this heat of the moment pursuit of pure guiltless drunk happiness, lips against the nap of your neck in the back of a taxi, a hand dragging dangerously up your thigh, closer and closer to a spot you hadn't known longed to be touched until now. you're mutual shouts of laughter are shared through the streets of paris, leading into the hotel room you'd been staying in for the week, you're set to check out the next morning, but realistically, what's one night of parisian fun to end your trip with a bang, literally.

"soleil, fuck, the things you are doing to me right now" his voice comes out like a growl against your ear, his teeth dragging along your ear lobe and further down your neck, never biting, just allowing the feeling to pull the breathless noises out of you. your hand finds its way to nestle into his hair, grip tight and pull him away, the way he looks at you, a gaze you're all far too familiar with, lust.

god, had you wished you knew life wouldn't feel so horribly if you'd felt like this the entire time, the way the man finds himself home between your thighs, even as they clench around his head as soon as his tongue flicks against your abused and overly sensitive clit, fingers working their way in and out of your as you're pushed to complete your third orgasm — your hands griping the pillow behind your head, back arching as you moan out breathlessly, the needy coil in your stomach untangling once more as he pulls the orgasm out of you; your left breathless and shaking as your ride out the orgasm on his fingers.

his face is glistening with your juices; god if you were brave enough to take a picture you would have, he looked effortlessly pretty as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and finally pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean.

you were royally screwed. even after you woke up in the morning, he was still asleep, but check-out was soon and there really wasn't any need to actively remain in the hotel room bed any longer, even if the man sleeping beside you was dreamy, even asleep, you knew alcohol-influenced one night stands were less than impressive to boast about the next morning. so you do the easiest thing to bypass awkward morning conversations, you leave a note with your number and leave.

yourusername just posted . . .

liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 489 others yourusername are you happy to have been in paris? oui! tagged francisca.cgomes

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user girl, what is that on your neck in the second pic?? ⤿ yourusername the question is are you a narc?

francisca.cgomes paris couldn't handle us for longer than a week ⤿yourusername where too next gf x

yourbestfriend i miss you come home ! ⤿yourusername i think i might find a new home ⤿yourbestfriend you're really gonna abandon our kids like that?

user since when have her an kika been friends? ⤿user since like forever, they grew up together

yoursisteruser look at you being a slut pookie, we love to see it ⤿yourusername get out of my comments blocked and reported ⤿yoursisteruser can you answer my facetime now, you got a lot of catching up to do, this is new name lore !!!

authors note : hi oh my god, so i'm absolutely nervous to actually have this be posted, it's not been beta read so i apologise in advance trying to edit this myself was the longest task i've come to find myself tethered to. i really like the plot of this story, the smut a lil dry because my smut writing is dry, we gotta work ourselves up to that, later chapters pookies, later chapters. i would have added more to the story, i'm like super inspired by this, but alas the 30 image limit said, no. so we gotta listen !

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist : @iluminaya @greenbaby12 @therealcap @marshmummy

[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.2

pt.1, pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. but, a familair face is here to save the day

word count - 2.2k+

watch it - jude is still an ass sorrehhh. angsy angst and more angst ! ur welcome

-----

You don't know where the hell you are, what time it is. A few more minutes you're going to forget your own name and start screaming to feel something other than misery. So  much for the holiday of love. You are feeling so much love you could jump out of a plane. With no parachute. And land on a pile of rocks. 

You kick a trash can out of frustration and groan at the impact it gives your poor exposed and suffering toes. 

You can not believe the events of today. Everything keeps replaying over and over like a broken projector. The fact that he got you to dress up in your favorite special occasion floor length dress just to have it drag across the grimy dirty fucking disgusting club floor. Oh god you want him dead. 

You're deep into Birmingham nightlife by the time your senses come back to you enough to fish your phone out of your bag. The bag is a birthday gift from your mother of all people forced to be seen among that bunch of people,it makes you seeth. 

You should have known taking you to Birmingham wasn't a good idea. It made no sense in your head, why fly from Madrid to god damn Birmingham. You both live and work in Madrid? Your sweet naive mind thought he came up with something unique, something sweet. 

You groan the second your phone turns on. One too many notifications to keep up with and by the looks of it they aren't stopping anytime soon. Twitter is blowing up, you already know what it is. A bunch of low quality pixels of you entering with him and looking lost with a bunch of tacky headlines. You'll get that settled when you get home. You go to order an uber, but your phone manages to die on you miraculously. How lucky. All the times you spent trying to get a hold of Jude really drained the battery. You clench your jaw. 

Good god. You shove your phone back in your purse and keep stomping through birmingham. Shivering with each step. You didn't bring a jacket, how foolish.

You try to follow streets you think you know, but it's not going very well. There aren't very many people this far out. Leave it to fucking Jude to take you to the worlds more obscure club location. It's been about an hour since you left him at the club you think. An hour of walking through alley ways and neighborhoods that only raise the hair on the back of your neck. He couldn't even get you a ride home?

You think the last person you saw was a nurse chucking coffee at a bus station, the bus that you tried to catch but it sped away faster than your aching legs could take you. Better night than yours you're sure. You wander about trying to find at least a store open to be able to call for a taxi. 

You hear the crunch of slowing tires come up behind you, and you instantly quicken up your pace. You almost swear you hear your name shouted, but you don't stop. The second time, it's a little too clear to be mistaken for anyone else's name as the car comes to a crawl side by side to you. 

You turn on your heel harshly, “why in god's name-“ your voice dies the moment you recognize the familiar car model, and its driver. Trent. Oh.

“Get in the car." he dead pans, windows rolled at the way down, door already unlocked for you.

You wrinkle your nose, “I don't want to talk trent." 

The very last thing you need is that sorry excuse of a man to send his friend of all people to run after you and do his bidding where he fell short just hours before. This is so embarrassing it only makes you wish his car would explode. And then drive it into the club. While it's on fire. 

“I'm not letting you roam around these parts at this time, just get in." he sighs. 

You scowl, "he’s low for sending you to change my mind, after this whole fucking night why cant you leave me alone."

He gives you a look, “this has nothing to do with him, this is me. Worried for you. “

“Fuck off." you spit. 

“You’re so hard headed, just get in the damn car before someone robs you. Or worse." 

"How'd you even know I was here?" you squint at him. 

he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "i still have your location from when i picked you up for his birthday. And I heard about everything from just about everyone. "

"You have nothing else to do on valentines day?" you jab. 

He stays silent, hands wringing the steering wheel. You notice he's in what looks like pjs, Liverpool jacket thrown on top. He drove all this way for you?

You swallow your pride for a moment, hiking up your dress while you duck inside the car. Sighing in relief as the pressure is taken off your aching legs. Snapping your seatbelt over you, swinging your purse over your head and gently setting it on your lap, wiping away the tears that blur your vision. 

Your rage has turned into a simmer for now. The main goal at the moment is to just get out of these clothes and sleep till you forget what year it is. 

Trent is quiet while he lets you get comfortable, rolling up his windows backup and locking the doors. You've never sat passenger in his car before. Hell you haven't seen him in months.

“Did he touch you." he asks, turning the heater on higher.

You put your hand out in front of where the hot air blows oh so nice on your frozen hands,“What?”

“You have a bruise on the back of your arm. Did he do that? “

“No.” you sigh. 

he turns to face you, brows furrowed,“i need to know if he did. “ 

“He didn’t trent, i'm alright.'' your voice softens.

he nods, hands resting on the wheel,“where do you need to go? “

“Just take me to my hotel please."

He nods, handing you his phones to put the directions in. You watch as he takes the car out of park, making a u turn and heading out of whatever bizarre neighborhood you're in, back into the city. And  soon the freeway. Birmingham flashes by you and you try to forget the man that sits like a heavy weight in your mind.

You still wonder why Trent would make the trip all the way out just to pick you up. especially if Jude wasn't involved. You're somewhat close you suppose. The kind where you would call him a friend in a group setting, but not much more. You've spent only a couple of times truly alone. You don't know if you're that close.

 Trent has always been somewhat of a mystery to you. Few appearances and even fewer words. Jude had told you once he was shy, just taking a minute to warm up to new people. He has a habit of staring off into nothing you noticed at Judes birthday party. Always quick to snap out of it the moment eyes were on him. Oh so different from the way he plays. You've seen him now and again in highlights and clips posted on instagram. He's good, but man is he aggressive. You expect it for a defender but the man gets up in everyones space on the pitch.

A complete 180 from the way he can barely look you in the eye now. What is he thinking?

You don't let your curiosity blind you from being at least a little courteous. 

“Thank you, " you mumble, playing with the fabric of your dress, "and sorry for being a bitch.“

“Hey I don’t blame you.” he shrugs. 

You hum and leave it at that. You'll put unraveling Trent on the to do list. 

Your hotel comes into view and you thank him again for the kindness, promising to make it up to him some day. He waves you off, seeing till you're inside to leave. 

Your mind is so blurred you can barely stand anymore, every step only throws you off balance. You need your bed. Asap. Or you will fall over and die.

The hotel's heating is a welcome treat as you beeline for the elevator. The staff give you a strange look but you do NOT. have the time for any of that. Right now all you care about is getting in bed. Can this elevator hurry up? It finally comes and you lean against the metal walls when you step inside, sliding your purse lazily over you.

You all but tear your clothes off the second you make it inside your room, in a rush, wiping your makeup off while you undo your shoes, hobbling around with one foot while you dig for your pajamas. You end the night with a trip to the bathroom. Skipping on your usual night routine and just settling for a quick shower and brush of the teeth. 

Hotel covers have never felt better, warmer, safer. 

In the quiet of the room and the hum of the ac, you can't but let your thoughts consume you. Can't help but circle back to him. Why?

Why weren't you enough? Why did it have to end in fucking flames on whats supposed to be the most romantic love filled day of the year. 

You think back of every moment and piece of you shared with Jude. You remember the first time you kissed you, under the stands at his first madrid home game, clutching onto his jersey like a lifeline. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Gently holding your hand all the way back inside the building. Mumbling confessions and making you smile with every cheesy pick up line.

That jude is gone now, instead replaced by the man who you have to fight for even a second with. But are expected to drop all for. A selfish bitter man. 

It doesn't matter anymore. It's over, you can rest now and deal with the inevitable fall out as it comes. You know you're more than enough, but with the way you let yourself be treated it's hard to let yourself believe that. 

Never again though. From now, you're swearing off footballers. 

—--

You wake up as early as you can manage, getting all your things together and booking a flight out of here as soon as possible. You need to get back to madrid.

Your headache is massive as you shove the last of your things in your suitcase. You can't believe you took days off for this. Nonetheless, you need to get back. You have a team to get back to and plenty of work to get done. Real Madrid's creative department never rests does it.

Your phone has a slew of missed calls, mainly from Jude but you see a few from Trent, rather recent ones. You give him a call back but it all goes to voicemail.

The key card jams while you're locking it for the last time, it takes a hit from your hand to get the scanner working but you make it out in one piece. Smoothing your clothes down and making your way to the lobby. Sitting down for a few minutes while you confirm your flight details and triple check that you haven't forgotten anything. You hear your name and are greeted again by Trent, who's all but spriting to you. It's a little early for him to be here now isn't it. 

“Can I help you ?” 

“I'm sorry I tried calling and I couldn't answer when you called. Judes outside waiting for you. he-“

So last night really was all just a ploy from Judes end? You try to get up and far far away from him, but he stands in front of you. 

“Listen.  He told me to come and get you out there so you can talk to him and to not tell you. But obviously, I'm not. i’ll tell him you're not here yeah? Take care.”

Trent doesn't leave you with anything else, leaving in the other direction. You take this as a sign to leave while you can, grabbing one of the many taxis outside to the airport. 

—--

Trent gives Jude a scowl, “She's not there Jude, give it up. “

“I can't just lose her. “ Jude sighs, furiously typing on his phone. 

Trent rolls his yees, patience wearing thin,“You’re fucked in the head you know that? After all you’ve done to her, you still want her to come running back?”

Silence. 

“I care about you Jude I really do. But you left her walking around at 3 am with a dead phone in the middle of alleyways dude. That's not okay. “

—--

The airport has never felt lonelier, but you swallow the lump in your throat, boarding your flight home and trying to forget the man that you've come to associate it with. Madrid will be a hard place to move on in, when its walls shine with its star boy. Its halls all but cheering his name. Every corner you're bound to be reminded of him. You can do it, one way or another you won't let yourself be miserable. 

[milaisreading]

Hi! it's me again, can I request a scenario where the manager is on a day off and visits a cafe and meets Sae's mother with him? and after getting along with each other Sae's mom told Sae to drive her home, and the paparazzi saw Sae with her hand on her waist and manager is wearing a sundress and started a new issue with her being pregnant and accepted into the family? I really loved how you wrote the misunderstandings and more rumors part. Thank you if you'd write this!

Author: At this point I might make a chapter where they are dating for real with how much of these rumors we made😭😭 thanks for the request🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Marc! Come back here!" (Y/n) scolded as she held the redhead's hand tightly, glaring sternly at him.

"But aunty, it's so boring." The boy pouted as his free hand pulled on the girl's (f/c) dress. (Y/n) glare softened and she patted the boy's head.

"You just know I can't be mad at you, huh?"

"Yep! Because I am your favorite!" The boy nodded his head as he giggled when the man at the counter called their name.

"Our food is ready~" Marc cheered as he pulled (Y/n) along to get the food.

'He really is my favorite person.' (Y/n) agreed in her head.

"And then Itoshi scored the goal! Aunty, you really should have seem it. Nobody on PXG was ready for it! Even Itoshi #2 was left speechless." Marc talked about the last game Real Madrid and PXG had as he ate his fries, (Y/n) nodding along as she added a quick word here and there. She did watch some parts, but due to the hectic schedule in Bastard München she had, she wasn't able to watch all of it.

'It's kind of funny that he keeps calling Rin Itoshi #2."

"Really? And what was your favorite part?"

"Hmm... probably the part where Itoshi Sae scored the winning point! It was so fun-"

"Oh? Marc, (Y/n) I knew I heard someone familiar." The girl and Marc looked up, only to find Sae and a unfamiliar woman with dark green hair looking down at them.

"Ah Sae-san, you are back in Japan?" (Y/n) smiled as she got up from her seat to greet him while Marc immediately hugged the football player.

"You must be (Y/n)! I am so glad to finally meet you." The woman smiled as she moved past Sae and (Y/n) bowed.

"Yes, (L/n) (Y/n) it's nice to meet you ma'am."

"Same here, I am Sae and Rin's mom, Itoshi Minako. I heard a lot about you from my sons. Sae, she is much prettier in person, you were right." The woman smiled and looked at Sae, who had an embarrassed look while hugging Marc back.

"Mom!"

"T-thank you, ma'am. Do you want to join us, the restaurant is pretty packed today?" (Y/n) offered, trying to get over the embarrassment while pointing at the two empty seats next to her and Marc.

"You don't have to-"

"That's a nice idea, thank you." Sae's mom nudged him and then looked down at Marc.

"And you must be Marc...we heard a lot about you." The woman chuckled nervously as the other two blushed, remembering the article that came out a while ago.

"Mhm! I am a huge fan of Itoshi! He is the best!" The boy grinned as the older woman started gushing over the cuteness.

They sat at the restaurant for the next hour or so and talked about random things. Sae gave Marc some tips and tricks as a beginner and the boy in return would ask him about his job. (Y/n) and Minako would look at them from time to time, finding the interaction adorable. Minako would then move to ask (Y/n) some questions about her job and her opinions about her sons, which (Y/n) found odd, but answered them regardless.

Minako's eyes had a strange look to them, Sae noted, and he could feel like something weird would happen soon.

"Well, Marc and I need to go now."

"Do you have anyone to pick you up? It's pretty late." Sae raised an eyebrow as (Y/n) put on Marc's jacket.

"Don't worry, Sae-san. I will call a taxi, my home isn't far away-"

"No, no. Sae will drive you two home." Minako interjected, causing Sae to look at his mom oddly, but flinched as he noticed her glare at him.

"There is really no need, Itoshi-san. Besides, you need to go home too-"

"I need to finish some shopping anyways, don't worry about me. Sae, doesn't mind it either." The said boy looked at (Y/n) and gulped, nodding his head in agreement.

"A-ah thank you so much... alright then, I will just go and call my brother to inform him, come on Marc."

(Y/n) smiled as she pulled the boy away. The two Itoshis watched them keenly before Sae turned to look at his mom.

"Why did you offer me, mom?"

"Didn't you tell me you liked (Y/n)?"

"Well yes, but-"

"No but, Sae. This is your chance to spend some extra time with her! Plus I love this girl already, I can't wait till I start picking wedding dresses with her~" the woman giggled as Sae's face turned red and shook his head.

"(Y/n) doesn't like me that way-"

"But you do, now try and make her to like you back. Ahhh~ I can't wait for the possible grandchildren."

"Grandchildren?!" Sae blushed even more, but didn't protest the idea much.

Once the two said goodbye to the older Itoshi woman, Sae escorted (Y/n) and Marc to his car and drew off. (Y/n) gave him the directions to her house, the two would talk about some random things, mainly about their jobs, with the occasional interjection from Marc. Soon tho the boy fell quiet and (Y/n) looked at the backseat, smiling softly.

"Ah~ he fell asleep. I guess all that walking and eating tired him out." The girl commented as Sae nodded his head.

"So your family is in Japan?"

"Yeah! Big brother wanted to visit his mom and for her to see Marc again, and my sister-in-law always liked summers here more than in Portugal." Sae nodded his head.

"So you two share the same father?"

"Mhm! He married my mom 5 years after his divorce to bug brother's." Sae noticed a sad look on the girl's face as she mentioned her mom, but decided to say nothing and switch the topic.

"Sorry if my mom jumped this idea onto you."

"Oh no! Not at all, I am just sorry that you had to bother yourself driving us here-"

"It's not a bother. I don't mind helping you. Besides, Marc is adorable when he talks about football, he seems passionate about it, more than I was at his age at least."

"He really is. He looks up to you and Isagi a lot, actually. It's always fun when he talks about a game of yours." (Y/n) smiled as Sae nodded his head.

"You sure you don't want me to carry him?" Sae asked as he held (Y/n)'s bags while she carried the sleeping boy out of the car.

"No Sae-san, you did honestly too much by now. Thank you so much again." (Y/n) smiled as the redhead stood silently for a moment, admiring her smile. Sae was about to speak up again, but someone clearing his throat behind them interrupted him.

"Anyways Itoshi, thank you for bringing my sister and son back, have a nice evening."

The two looked at a man, a few centimeters taller than Sae as he was glaring at him.

"Big brother! You are here already, I thought you were still at your mom's house." (Y/n) raised her eyebrow as Sae glared back at him.

"We had to cut the visit short since she wanted to visit you and dad as well. Come on now, she made your favorite cake." The (h/c)-haired man said as her took the bags out of Sae's hands and waited for (Y/n) to join him.

"Thanks again, Sae-san. Have a great evening!" (Y/n) smiled and the taller nodded his head. He watched the two walk towards the house and Sae couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Great, now I have to deal with an overprotective brother..." Sae sighed as he smiled and got into his car.

"(Y/n), he is perfect for you!" The red-haired woman, Isabella said as she took her son from her.

"You two were spying?!" She asked in disbelief while looking at her dad and the woman.

"A little..."

"(Y/n)!"

"Sis!" (Y/n) and her sister-in-law looked at the father and brother, who were fuming.

"He is too old for you." The father said.

"Isn't he like 2 months or so older than (Y/n)?" The Portuguese woman questioned.

"Too old, and he looks like a punk." The brother butted in and the two females looked at each other in disbelief.

"Aahhhh!!" The next morning screams were heard through the (L/n) household as (Y/n) and her brother ran to the kitchen.

"What is it?!"

"Is someone hurt?!" They looked around frantically around the room, only to find their father pale as a ghost and Isabella.

"(Y/n), you never told me Sae proposed to you! Look! It also says you are pregnant! I will become an aunt, oh my God!" Isabella said as she showed the two this morning's newspapers, crying as (Y/n) gulped at the rage her brother was radiating.

"He touched you!"

"He didn't, I swear we are just friends!!"

"Come on honey, (Y/n) is an adult now." Isabella protested as her brother shook his head.

"She is still a baby!"

"I hate my life..." (Y/n) groaned as she saw the picture of her and Sae leaving the restaurant yesterday.

"SAE ITOSHI!" Rin and the said boy flinched as they heard their mom's yells while their father stayed silent, eating his breakfast.

"Yes mom?" The redhead asked as his mom stormed into the kitchen, holding her phone.

"I am offended, happy, hurt and excited, all because of you." His mom cried as Rin and the father looked at each other.

"What happened? I didn't do anything, I swear." Sae defended himself.

"Clealry you did. Look at this, my own son. My own flesh and blood won't tell me got engaged. And that I will be a grandma soon! Is that why you wanted me to meet (Y/n) yesterday?!" Rin spat out his drink while their father looked at Sae in disbelief. The redhead took his mom's phone and read the article she was showing him.

"Mom... (Y/n) and I aren't engaged, I swear and that meet up was an accident-"

"Really? Because you look all cozy holding her waist, Sae you fucking backstabbing brother!" Rin yelled, enraged at the picture. Sae started shouting back as their father tried to shut them up. Meanwhile their mom took her phone back and dialed a number while sobbing.

"Hello? Mom? Did you read this morning's newspaper?"

The arguments became louder as Minako continued sobbing.

"Yes, my poor baby seems to be embarrassed to admit it, but the girl is such an angel. I met her yesterday, finally we can pass the heirloom onto a girl. Oh! I already know some places where I can take her wedding dress shopping!" The woman cheered as Rin chucked a glass at Sae, who dodged it.

"Are you out of your mind, Rin?!" Their father yelled.

"Ahh~ no, Rinnie is just excited to be getting a sister-in-law AND a nephew or niece, he just doesn't know how to express it."

[taxi7plazasmadrid]

Mira esto... 👀

Mira esto... 👀 https://pin.it/1afHotEqW

[moviestarmartini]

Since you are open to writing about Brahim 🤭imagine Jude being a third wheel and always hanging out with you and Brahim, like the guy is never at his house 😭😭

three, that's the magic number! - brahim diaz x reader x platonic!jude bellingham

warnings: none, pure fluff. headcanon/bulleted format.

OKAY HE WOULD LOWKEY BE LIKE “i want what these bitches have” BUT LET ME NOT GET AHEAD OF MYSELF HERE 

now playing... the magic number by de la soul

you’d heard of Jude but came to meet him in a dinner Brahim had organized with him and Arda. 

you’d noticed the way Jude stared in awe at the two of you whenever you interacted, even if it was just Brahim taking short glances, his face softer than ever. 

it started off with Brahim asking if you could pick up Jude on the way to training, not wanting the younger man to take a taxi there again 

the way the three of you could start a conversation and flow felt nice, singing along to some songs that Brahim had queued.

Jude often asked what the songs said, or what a word either of you said meant. you found endearing how he was really trying with spanish

Jude then started getting dropped off at your shared place to be driven to training by you two— getting all pouty when Brahim was the one driving, not you.  

“Is this what abandonment feels like?” He would joke, but still wished you the best on your way out to work. 

then it was the fact Brahim took it upon himself to teach the englishman the do’s-and-don’ts of Madrid. 

you took Jude everywhere, all your favorite spots, doing your best to avoid large crowds to not draw attention to yourselves. 

“You’re in luck, she’s the best tour guide ever.” Brahim bragged about you to Jude, as he did to anyone who would listen.  

he was just so so proud of every you know and done, he can’t help himself. 

you knew a lot about the historic places you saw even when just passing by car, telling Jude every detail and fun fact you had in store in that brain of yours.

he listened attentively, also noticing the way Brahim would look at you with the tiniest smile behind his lips.  

“See? I’ve got myself the smartest cookie. Eres la más inteligente de todo España, mi habibati.” Brahim would coo after you were done explaining, reaching to cup your face and stroke your cheekbone with his thumb as you nodded slowly, cheeks flushed. 

soon, however, candid pictures of you hanging out were released to the public. 

the reactions varied from people adoring the pair you and Brahim made and how tall Jude was compared to the two of you but always followed behind as if he was your child. 

by that point he’d already taken your flat as his favorite hang out spot, more often than not you found Jude playing FIFA or board games with Brahim after coming home from work.

“Get a room.” Jude would complain at your cuddling and kissing, Brahim brushing the spiky facial hair against the length of your neck only to hear the giggles that made his chest swell 

“Jude, you’re the one who’s in our room.” you deadpanned with a yawn, the two men bursting down in laughter. 

but at the end of the day, he felt like another member of your family— just like abi Arda did, but that’s a story for another day. 

and you were so glad Brahim could reintegrate back into the team flawlessly. 

at one of the games you sat in the VIP balcony at the bernabeú with a good chunk of the players— all out on injuries, including Jude, who went straight to you as he noticed you walk in. 

you two commented on the game as if that was your actual job, feeling every second and emotion. 

you also noticed how Jude looked at you every time you celebrated Brahim doing things right— it could only be described as admiration.

 Jude had to leave when the game was itching its end, having to stand with the other injured players, leaving you with Denise.  

you introduced yourself quickly, and you noticed how she perked up. 

“Lovely to meet you, but can you give me my son back? Or do I need to pull out some adoption papers for you two?” she laughed, soon telling you how much he talked about both you and Brahim, and the relationship you shared. 

you couldn't help but laugh, "Really? I think I have a pen in my purse, hold on–" you joked, but feeling proud... why? because everyone could clearly see how much you loved Brahim.

and they could also see, clear as day, how much he loved you too.

[taxi-bambino]

How to Book the Best Family Taxi with Car Seat in Madrid

Booking a family taxi with a car seat in Madrid can be a seamless process if you know the right steps to take. Ensuring the safety and comfort of your family, especially young children, during travel is paramount. Here’s a comprehensive guide to help you navigate this process effectively.

1. Research and Choose Reputable Taxi Companies

The first step is to identify reputable taxi companies in Madrid that offer family-friendly services, including car seats. A simple online search will provide a list of companies, but it’s essential to look for those with positive reviews and high ratings from other families. Websites like TripAdvisor, Yelp, and Google Reviews are excellent resources for this.

2. Verify Car Seat Availability

Not all taxi companies provide car seats, so it’s crucial to confirm this service before booking. Most reputable companies will mention the availability of car seats on their websites. If this information is not readily available, contact the company directly to inquire. Ensure they offer the appropriate type of car seat for your child's age and weight.

3. Make an Advance Reservation

To ensure a smooth experience, make your reservation well in advance. This is especially important during peak travel seasons or holidays when demand for taxis is high. When making the reservation, specify that you need a car seat and mention the age and size of your child. This allows the company to provide a suitable seat.

4. Confirm Your Booking

A day or two before your scheduled pickup, confirm your booking with the taxi company. This step helps avoid any last-minute surprises. Reiterate the need for a car seat and confirm the pickup time and location.

5. Check for Additional Services

Some taxi companies offer additional services that might enhance your travel experience. For example, they may provide larger vehicles if you have a lot of luggage, or even entertainment options for children during the ride. Inquire about these services when booking.

6. Safety First

Ensure that the car seat provided meets safety standards. When the taxi arrives, check that the car seat is properly installed and secured. If you’re unsure how to check this, ask the driver for assistance or refer to the car seat’s manual. Your child’s safety is the top priority.

7. Payment and Receipts

Discuss payment options with the taxi company beforehand. Some may offer fixed rates for airport transfers or city tours. Ensure you have clarity on the fare structure to avoid any misunderstandings. Additionally, ask for a receipt, especially if you’re travelling for business and need to file an expense report.

8. Provide Feedback

After your ride, consider providing feedback on the service. This not only helps the company improve but also assists other families in making informed decisions.

FAQs

1. How far in advance should I book a taxi with a car seat in Madrid?

It’s advisable to book at least a week in advance, especially during peak travel seasons. This ensures that the taxi company has enough time to arrange for a suitable car seat and accommodate your request.

2. Are there any extra charges for providing a car seat?

Some taxi companies might charge a small fee for providing a car seat, while others include it as part of their service. Always clarify this when making your reservation to avoid any unexpected charges.

3. What type of car seat will be provided?

The type of car seat provided will depend on the age and size of your child. Generally, companies offer infant car seats, convertible car seats, or booster seats. It’s essential to specify your child’s details to ensure the correct seat is provided.

4. Can I bring my own car seat?

Yes, you can bring your own car seat if you prefer. Inform the taxi company in advance so they can provide a vehicle compatible with your seat. Bringing your own car seat ensures familiarity and comfort for your child.

Conclusion

Booking a family taxi with a car seat in Madrid can be straightforward and stress-free if you follow these steps. Research thoroughly, confirm details, and prioritise safety to ensure a pleasant and comfortable journey for your family.

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[carabanchelnet]

📌Todo lo que necesitas saber sobre el plan de Más Madrid para rescatar la sanidad pública madrileña 📌Todos los “sinsentidos” del hospital Zendal: Improvisación, falta de recursos y adjudicaciones millonarias a dedo 📌Inspección de Trabajo regulariza a 40.000 falsos autónomos 📌Por una izquierda útil 📌Yolanda Díaz apuesta por subir el salario mínimo entre el 7% y el 8,2% 📌La incorporación de los logopedas en los centros escolares previene el fracaso escolar y contribuye a la educación inclusiva 📌La Asociación Mareas Blancas lleva al Congreso de los Diputados la grave situación por la que está pasando la Sanidad Pública 📌Hoy #24E: Manifestación de los taxistas de Madrid contra el nuevo reglamento de Ayuso https://carabanchel.net

[sherrylephotography]

My photography @sherrylephotography

May 2023. ..posted 12/23

We took the train from Madrid. We got off at the Segovia stop but it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. Some tourists decided to walk to Segovia. It was a hot day, we waited to see if a taxi would come. I was relieved when a taxi showed up. Taxi asked old or new Segovia. We wanted historic Segovia. He was a nice taxi driver. He dropped us at a roundabout said we could catch a return taxi here too.

The first thing you see is the impressive gigantic Roman Aqueduct. We walked the cobblestone stone streets. There are some hills and the towns streets do curve around but it's easy enough to find your way around. We walked on some of the city walls, toured the fairytale alcazar and the Roman Catholic Cathedral. We ate at a small cafe and found our way back to the roundabout to catch a taxi back to the small train station. Make sure you check the train schedule.