#top 10 property agents

[top10estateagentsuk]

The Evolution of Property Hunting

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.

The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"

"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."

"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."

"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.

"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"

"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."

"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."

"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.

Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.

“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.

"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.

"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"

“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”

"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.

Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.

Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.

“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.

Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.

“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.

“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.

His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”

“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.

“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”

“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”

“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.

“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.

Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”

“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”

“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”

“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”

“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.

He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”

“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.

"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."

“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”

"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.

There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.

Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”

It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.

It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.

“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”

“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.

“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.

“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.

When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”

“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.

He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”

From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”

“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.

There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.

“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”

“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”

“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”

“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”

“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.

“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.

You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.

“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.

It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.

“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.

“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”

“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”

“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”

“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”

“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.

“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”

“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”

“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”

“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”

“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”

“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.

“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”

“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”

His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”

“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”

“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.

“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.

“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”

“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”

Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.

“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.

Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.

“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”

He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”

“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.

Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.

It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.

The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.

"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."

He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.

"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."

“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.

"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."

“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”

"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."

“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."

“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”

"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."

“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”

It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."

He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”

"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."

“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.

You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"

Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.

Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.

Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.

The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."

“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.

It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.

“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”

You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.

It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.

It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.

It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.

There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.

He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.

"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.

He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.

That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.

Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.

"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."

Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”

"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."

Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.

"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.

Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.

Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.

"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.

"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."

“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”

"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."

“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”

"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."

“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”

"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."

“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.

"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."

His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.

"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."

“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”

"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."

Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.

Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.

The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.

The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.

The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”

“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.

“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.

"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."

She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.

It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”

“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.

“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.

“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”

“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.

“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”

“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”

“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”

“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”

“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.

“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”

“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.

“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.

“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”

“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”

“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”

“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”

“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”

“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”

A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.

“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.

“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.

“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”

“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.

“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”

As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”

"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."

“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”

"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."

“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.

"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"

“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.

"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.

“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”

“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”

“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”

“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.

“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.

“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”

“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.

“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”

“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”

“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”

She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.

“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”

Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”

“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”

“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”

“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”

“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.

“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…

“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”

“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…

The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”

“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”

“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”

“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”

“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.

“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”

“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.

"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."

She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”

"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."

“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”

The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.

Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.

"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.

Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”

"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"

“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?

"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."

“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”

"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"

“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”

"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."

He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”

"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"

“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.

“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”

“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.

“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”

“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”

"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."

“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"

“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”

"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."

“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”

"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."

“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.

"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”

"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."

“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.

"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"

“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”

"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."

“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.

"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”

"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."

“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.

Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”

“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”

“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.

“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.

“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”

“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”

“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”

“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.

“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”

“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”

“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.

First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.

With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.

So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.

Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”

“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”

He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”

You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.

“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.

“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”

“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”

“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.

He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”

“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.

“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.

“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.

It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.

“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.

“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”

“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”

“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.

“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.

“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”

“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.

“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”

“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.

“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”

“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.

“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.

You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”

Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”

"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.

“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”

"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."

"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"

"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."

"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"

"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."

"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"

"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."

"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."

"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."

He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.

"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.

“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.

Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.

Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.

The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.

“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.

“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”

Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”

“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.

“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”

Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”

“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.

Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”

“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.

Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.

“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.

Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”

"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."

The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.

"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”

"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."

“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.

"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.

Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”

"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."

“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.

"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.

“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”

“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”

“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”

“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”

"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."

“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”

The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.

A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”

Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[daitoshi]

Timeline of the raid on Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate, for clarity:

2021

January 2021: Trump is stepping down as president and is ordered to return all documents to NARA before leaving office.

May 2021: NARA officials contact Trump's team after realizing several important documents were missing.

Fall 2021: NARA has not received the documents. NARA lawyer Gary stern reaches out to Trump attorney to intervene, asking about several boxes of records apparently taken to Mar-a-Lago during Trump's relocation.

2022

It's been nearly 12 full months since he's been ordered to return all documents, and 7 months since NARA told him directly that they know documents are missing. He has not returned the documents in his possession during this time.

January 2022 - After months of discussions, NARA retrieves 15 boxes of Trump white house records. Some of them are torn up, some reconstructed with tape. NARA says in a statement that the boxes contain some SAP documents - Special Access Programs that severely limit who would have access to that information.

February 2022 - NARA asks Justice department to investigate Trump's handling of White House records, and whether he violated laws related to classified information.

April 2022 - NARA publicly acknowledges that the Justice Department is involved, and news outlets report that prosecutors have launched a criminal probe into Trump's mishandling of classified documents. Around this time, FBI agents begin interviewing Trump aides about the handling of records.

May 2022 - News outlets report that investigators subpoenaed NARA for access to the classified documents already obtained from Mar-A-Lago. This indicates that the Justice Department is using a grand jury in its investigation.

June 2022 - Four investigators, including a Justice Department counterintelligence official, visit Mar-A-Lago seeking info on the classified information Trump had taken to florida. During this meeting, federal officials serve a grand jury subpoena for some of the sensitive national security documents found on the premises. They take those documents with them when they leave.

Trump's attorneys then receive a letter, from federal investigators, asking them to further secure the room where documents are being stored. Trump aides add a padlock to the room. Federal Investigators serve a subpoena to the Trump investigation, demanding surveillance video. Trump's company turns over the footage.

August 8, 2022 - FBI executes a search warrant at Mar-a-Lago, focused on the club area where Trump's offices and personal quarters were located. Federal agents remove 'about a dozen' boxes of materials from the property after this search.

August 11, yesterday, Attorney General Garland revealed that he personally approved the decision to seek a search warrant.

And today the warrant dropped. You can read it here: https://int.nyt.com/data/documenttools/mar-a-lago-search-warrant-and-inventory/5144e66f50896998/full.pdf

Federal agents who executed the warrant did so to investigate potential crimes associated with violations of the Espionage Act, which outlaws the unauthorized retention of national security information that could harm the United States or aid a foreign adversary; a federal law that makes it a crime to destroy or conceal a document to obstruct a government investigation, and Section 2071, which covers the unlawful removal of government records. None of these laws differentiate information that has been declassified or not.

The Espionage Act in particular, if violated can carry a penalty of up to 10 years in prison per offense.

The search this past Monday seized 11 sets of documents in all, including some marked as “classified/TS/SCI” documents — shorthand for “top secret/sensitive compartmented information,” according to the report. SAPs like TS/SCI are created when the sharing of specific information represents a heightened threat of damaging disclosures, or when a “secret” or “top secret” classification is not deemed sufficiently protective. Documents marked thus are meant to be viewed only in secure govt. facilities.

The Washington Post also revealed an anonymous tip from individuals 'familiar with the investigation' that the FBI agents were looking for classified documents relating to nuclear weapons, though did not say if said documents had been recovered.Per the Atomic Energy Act, the president has no authority to declassify documents relating to nuclear power or weapons.

The last folks in the United States who violated both the Espionage Act and the Atomic Energy Act were executed!

[belethlegwen]

The Rescue - Chp 54 - That Dark Old Friend [+ Life Update]

Hey there everyone!

So sorry about the delay in updates since the Christmas season, there's a lot of shit to blame for it and I'll get into it in more detail, but in short this was a wildly busy Christmas season where I had 0 time to write between work and family stuff from like, November-end of December, and then a whole lot of house shit started happening and I've been unbelievably stressed since just before New Years.

Longer details and stuff below the cut for people who are interested, but in short the important details are:

Updates to works on AO3 may be at random times with long delays between for the coming year. Can't be sure, but for now that's how things are looking while I have way too much shit going on IRL.

Please enjoy this little chapter for now, and if you're up for a long winding journey about why it felt like all of my hair has been falling out for two weeks, meet me below <3

So the Christmas season at my job was wildly busy, on top of that there's some issues going on there between the business owner I rent space from and the person who owns the building. It's a mess, for a while it looked like/still kinda looks like we're going to have some major issues with the lot clearing what with winter being a major issue where I live in the Frozen Nor'Atlantic. That was all bad enough.

I had been told back in the fall by my landlord, who I've been renting from for 10 years now, that her mortgage was up for renewal in January and that it looked like it was going to go up a hot amount. Rates are super fucking high in Canada right now, shit's bad, the mortgage specialist at the bank I was talking to yesterday said that it's bad enough they legitimately expect the government to be stepping in soon to do something about it before it's a crisis (or more of a crisis because personally, it's already a fucking crisis and has been, but I digress). She warned me the rent was going to have to go up, I told her I expected it, I knew it was going to happen, she's been amazing to me for 10 years, if it's gotta go up it's gotta go up, I get it.

This past fall is when my partner Zip came to visit for 6 weeks and we got engaged, and when we started to plan to move them up here so we could start immigration and the like, which we were aiming to do for the beginning of this summer.

So as we're gearing up to New Year's and everything, I am expecting to deal with the start of immigration application readying, and expecting rent to increase. December 27th, I got a message from the landlord that uh, someone wants to buy the house (as an investment property and keep the renters) and despite her best efforts to try and bounce around and get a lower mortgage rate, it didn't work out and she's going to have to sell either way. So we suddenly had to get the house ready to be listed and viewed.

Viewings were fucking hell, by the way. While priority for accepting the offer was going to someone who wanted to take the property over and keep the renters in place, Real Estate agents just want the fucking sale, so being in my home while people are wandering around it scaring my cats and talking about how my bedroom was going to be the kid's room and my office was going to be turned into something else? Shit time, don't recommend. Not to mention the agents that were showing up half-hour not just away of their own scheduled appointment but a half hour outside of when viewings were actually permitted to happen.

I'm glad we have such high paying careers available for people who are, apparently, fucking illiterate, but I was getting extremely rude to agents and their desperation for a sale by the end of it. Someone tried to show up yesterday after a offer was accepted literally the night before and we sent them packing fine enough, but now anytime the rain hits the gutters too hard I think someone is walking into my home so that's fun.

We have signs all over the house about keeping doors closed to keep the cats inside, including one on the back door (where it isn't an enclosed porch) that says in extremely large lettering Access To Patio From Outside ONLY, and there were still at least two agents that opened the back door, so. Nightmares all around.

An offering has been accepted, the person who is hopefully going to buy wants to keep us as tenants, and I'm locked in a lease until later this year anyway. Things are at least, as of yesterday when I got the confirmation that an offer was in that stage, stable now that I didn't throw up this morning. Hooray! It's been hell. I can not stress enough that this has been hell.

It still leaves the later part of the year up in the air a lot, because new landlord may still want us out at the end of the lease of whathaveyou, and between now and then I am flying down to America to drive across that wild country with a car full of stuff to move my fiancee here, then we gonna get immigration rolling and the employment switchover and everything else. My Dad has been a massive rock for me during this time in terms of trying to keep me level, and as he says: "this is all just one-step-at-a-time things. You're just keeping ducks in a row".

And as I keep saying: "Yeah but I've got a lot of fuckin' ducks, man."

So that's the kind of thing that's in the air right now for me. Lots and lots of stuff going on. I'm still picking away at writing but to make things easier on myself, I'm going to not stress about any kind of schedule or the like right now and just play with whatever flows come when I have them and have the time/ability to focus on them in the few quiet moments I have between all of the other stuff.

Much love to all of you, thank you all again as always for the wonderful comments you've all left, the kudos, the people who reached out, all of it. You're wonderful <3

Take care of yourselves out there,

~ Belle

[reality-detective]

DJT's EXECUTIVE ORDERS

13818

● Confiscated private and corporate assets

● Seized the NYSE

● Blocking the property of those involved in serious human rights abuses or corruption.

Human trafficking

13848

● 13848 imposes certain sanctions in the event of foreign interference in any of the United States

Choice

13959

● Maintain American leadership in artificial intelligence

Khazarian assets confiscated

● Among the top 3 executive orders - many DS assets were confiscated and DS Agents reversed

○ 13818, 13848 and 13959

● The Space Force has EVERYTHING under control!

● DS money will be used up quickly

● All DS gold has already been confiscated (Vatican etc.)

● Wall Street, Washington DC, Vatican and City of London - all dead

● OPERATION: DEFEND EUROPE. This started March 17th 2020 and takes over the Vatican, it's the mafia and it's seizing all the Rothschilds central banks

● Brexit has severed the Vatican's ropes and stripped the Royals of all assets

● We're going to Tesla and metals instead of oil and gas

GESARA – Global Economic Security and Reform Act

● It should be implemented on 10/11/2001. Stopped by the Khazarian false flag event on 9/11

● Elimination of the national debt of all nations of the world

● No taxes. Only a fixed sales tax of around 15% on new goods

● Waiving of mortgages and other bank departments due to illegal government activities

● Back to constitutional law - get rid of the corrupt law of the sea

● Newly elected leaders - only 10% of current governments

● World peace for 1,000 years or longer.

● Eliminate all current and future nuclear weapons on planet earth

● Gold Standard!

● Introduction of new hidden technologies - 6,000 Tesla patents. free energy

● Build and rebuild in all countries at 1950s prices

● The power back to We The People. Global distribution of wealth

● Odin project = World EBS (Emergency Broadcast System)

- Benjamin Fulford

[originfinance]

Top 10 Real Estate Agencies in Kenya

Are you looking forward to buying homes? Do you have an interest in buying property? Knowing everything about selling and buying real estate can be hard. If you find the right real estate agency, it can be less difficult.  Estate Agents in Kenya: What You Need to Know The real estate industry has been growing in Kenya over the years. Tatu City is coming up well. In the future, many Kenyans…

[rw47vr-key]

Still in love with your lies (part 1/4)

(I don't own the above pic)

◆ Based on: this request,(🔗) kindly read it to know the plot ◆ Pairing: Jake x Fem! MC(FBI AGENT) ◆ Genre: Angst, dark, betrayal, lovers to enemies ◆ Warning: in short you'll cry if you read this.(i think? ).Also mention of death, gun,swearing, violence,blood, episode 10 spoiler ◆ A/N: ◎ Firstly, once again, thank you very much for this request anony!💝 I tried my best, I'm sorry if it's not what you expected😅. ◎ I hope you all will find this readable, take care and virtual hugs lovelies!💕✨

Jake's POV (+ narrator's POV in lower case)

"Wake up, please! Jake! Can you hear me? Jake! "

I can hear you. I would be lying that I never thought of having you closer like this.I want to hear you, all day long. I want you to cure me, I want to feel you, I...I wanted every shred of your gesture.

"-You- ..You are wasting your tears. I -am- not -dead yet-, agent MC!", Jake screamed to the top of his lungs,that it made MC to flinch back.

"Oh, my bad. That wouldn't be your name, I guess", I groaned as I failed to grasp the bloodied wound in my waist firmly, compared to the tangle in my chest.

Thank you for confiding in me despite all of this.

It wasn't the first time I have been betrayed, but I could never recover from this. Recover? Is it really the time for me to think about something impossible? I am going insane.

The frail cotten-like delicacy in her voice disappeared along with the dejected expression. It switched off instantly to be replaced with her true emotions.

"Arghh,you cracked the code a lot sooner than I thought. Congrats hacker!", she exclaimed and wiped her tears, as if it were a nuisance to her face and glared at me.

He could understand that even her tears were facade,it instead got his eyes filled up with warm tears, he looked up blinking it off.

Do you trust me,Jake?

I trust you, only you. Don't ever forget that.

She pulled out her hidden gun and knelt a little closer to me. She kept swinging it and something familiar grew within me , 'hatred'.

"So, when did you find out? ", the rust in an iron would get defeated to that harshness in her tone. Agent Key, as she was nicknamed by her comrades after this mwaf incident, is one of the main agents who was assigned to capture Jake. Her real name is unknown to others except one. At the moment, they both got trapped in one of the rooms in the mine. They have to wait for the rescuers (other FBI agents) since the fire almost collapsed everything except a few rooms.

"Your eyes", I mumbled.

" Ah, so you do know to read emotions", she snickered and continued swaying her gun.

You didn't ask because you're worried about me, did you?

Of course I did🙁

When she rushed to save me, her whole body expressed concern. Still her eyes, looked at me,as if she found the 'property' she had been searching for to gift it to someone. I don't know how I was able to see through her, but I regret realising it, realising that I was worse than a piece of burnt cloth to her.

"I can say what you'd be wondering to ask me, Did I mean anything to you? ", she asked moving her head left and right for each word.

I reached to strangle her neck in an instinct, my breath raising up and down rapidly. Being the secret spy she was, she deftly avoided it and placed her gun in my forehead.

I really care about Jake,you know?

" Haha,hold on. Just let me answer your question,ok? .Sure, all you saw of me until now, were not true",she emphasised, her eyes still focused to mine. "You were of course important to me",she sneered, "'an important mission that I had to accomplish".

Her words poisoned Jake tremendously, he wrapped his arms around himself and sobbed,pressing his lips.

" What? I've only begun. There's lot more for you to hear. Ok, fine,fine, I'm not going to tell anything unless you do".

"I want to see her again", I found myself blurting it out.

The gun has still been there as it was before. She coughed and raised her eyebrows wondering who I was mentioning.

" MC...I want to see MC one last time. After all, I loved her beautiful lies, and I still do". Right here, I must have completely gone insane.

MC

I love you.

I love you too, Jake.

The pressure of the gun in my head was no longer there. She kept it aside and let out a huge sigh."MC is one of the thousand names I had,Jake.So what you said doesn't make any sense. You're not going to die, so stop acting this way.I'm just executing what has to be done.And….I don't want you to die. Our FBI department aren't that hard as nails, atleast not me".

Jake slumped down for a while but the next thing he did was totally the opposite.

" How about this? Shoot me and end this game. It's not like I have someone at my home waiting for me to return alive. Wait, you can't kill a rotten corpse, can you? Hahahaha".

I waited for her response, despite those tears I've been shedding for her that she considers as unnecessary. To my surprise, she fainted. Only then, I realized the smoke from outside started filling the room.

"Agent R3! She's here! ", two FBI agents ran in to the room suddenly and one of them hugged MC.

I could see him yelling her name, crying but then he turned towards me and grabbed me by my hoodie.

"Tell me! What did you do to my girl? I will kill you if anything happens to her! ", after what he said, all that was around me were blurry and defeaning.

"Agent F7, she is still breathing! We'll escort her! Bring Jake out of here! "

"I'll kill you for sure, hacker!You are going to pay for what you've done! "

I don't want you to die

I don't want you to die …..at least not me

Nevertheless of that guy's repeated curses, MC's words kept ringing in my head. I'm not sure if she meant it from her heart, still I took it as a hope, a hope to see tomorrow, a hope to escape from this mess I've been running away for years, a hope to not die. Funny how I thought about it, regardless of my shattered heart and mind.

edit: part 2 here (yes, this was an unplanned sequel)

————««◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇»»————

A/N here, again:It went longer than i expected👀.I think POVs would have confused, I'm sorry😅.Also, Let me know what you think about this! 💕And Thank you so much for reading! Take care!🌸

[avastrasposts]

The British Connection - ch. 10

Cross posting this properly on Tumblr for the first time so it's been scheduled out throughout the day:

The plot follows MI6 agent Eve Edwards as she's assigned to help Billy Butcher and The Boys take down a new type of supe killing politicians on both sides of the pond. Not much fluff in this, plenty of canon typical violence, smut and extreme amounts of Britishness

Read on Ao3

As Butcher and Eve near Washington D.C. the rain starts coming down hard. The short winter day is coming to an end and by the time they reach the hospital it’s pitch black outside. Butcher pulls up between two street lights at the back, near the loading bay and they wait in the car, watching the traffic at the loading bay. 

“They’re leavin’ the doors open when they load and unload,” Butcher says, watching a big cart of dirty laundry being loaded onto a lorry, “that could be our way to slip in.” 

“I think you’re right. The first security camera is on the right hand side so we just need to stay clear of it” Eve says, reaching into the back seat and getting hold of the clipboard and a pen. “I have an idea, wait here for a minute.” 

She gets out of the car, pulling the hood of the coat over her head, she jogs across the wet street to the entrance. Butcher watches her walk up to the man loading a cart of dirty laundry onto a lorry and start talking to him. She makes a show of pulling down her hood and shaking off the rain, smiling and saying something to the man, who smiles back and waves his hand at the heavy rain. Eve laughs and brushes her hair out of her face and Butcher chuckles at her obvious flirting. But the laundry man is buying it and after a minute's conversation he points through the open loading bay doors and Eve disappears inside with a smile and wave at the man. The man gives her a wistful look and turns back to his lorry, climbs into the driver’s seat and pulls away. When the lorry has left Eve steps out onto the loading bay again and waves Butcher over. 

“That poor bloke didn’t know what hit him,” Butcher chuckles as he reaches her. “What did you tell him?”

“Told him I’d been sent down to collect any ID:s still attached to the dirty scrubs. All the lost property is in the office over there, it’s open.” Eve leads Butcher over to a small office with a light on. “Top drawer holds all ID:s” 

“Bingo,” Butcher grins as he pulls out the drawer and they see a small stack of hospital ID:s. Eve flips through the ID:s, there’s only three and they’re all female. 

“Unless you want to try to pass as Emelie here, we might need to find another way in for you.” She pockets the ID of Dr Linda Gallagher for herself, a clearly dyed blonde girl about the same age as herself. 

“Clean scrubs over there,” Butcher points at a rack on the other side of the loading bay. “Where’s the first security camera in here?”

“Over in that corner, hug the wall and we’re good.”  They skirt around the room and quickly go through the scrubs. Eve pulls off her tweed coat and pulls a white doctor’s coat over her jumper, readjusting her holster so that it’s hidden under her left arm. Butcher tries on a white coat but it doesn’t even come near to fitting over his wide shoulders.

“They only go up to Large,” he says and pulls it off, ripping a seam in the process. 

“Try one of the scrub tops but be quick, we need to get moving.” 

Butcher pulls off his big black overcoat and eyes the largest scrubs he can find with doubt. 

“Maybe try it without the Hawaii shirt underneath?” Eve grins at him, “‘c’mon, pop a few buttons for me.”

“Fuck off,” Butcher growls but sighs and pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of the overcoat. The look on his face makes her give a small giggle, she quickly stifles when he scowls at her. 

“It aint fucking fittin’ either,” Buther grumbles as he struggles with the scrubs over his head, “and not another word out of you, I can hear what you’re thinkin’.” 

Eve really hopes that isn’t true because the sight of Butcher’s shirtless form put a whole new type of thoughts in her head and she’s vividly reminded of how he’d felt when he pushed her up against the wall yesterday. There’s something about the way his body looks, how he holds himself upright even as he struggles with the scrubs. His body looks used, utilised, muscled because he needs the strength, not to look good. She turns away, suddenly embarrassed, and busies herself with the rack of scrubs again. 

“Ain’t no good, I’ll have to go in as a civilian,” Butcher says as he throws the scrubs into an empty laundry basket and reaches for his own shirt again. 

Eve looks at the laundry basket and back at Butcher. 

“Get in.” 

“Wha’?” Butcher asks. 

“Get in the laundry basket, I’m taking you in.” 

“Bloody hell, luv, you’re not gettin’ me in that,” he scowls, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Two options; either you get in the laundry basket so that we  both can get up to the 6th floor, or you wait in the car while I go up on my own.” 

“Bloody hell,” he says again but with a sigh this time and gingerly steps into the basket and Eve dumps a heap of scrubs on him.  “Stop whinging, they’re clean at least.”

She’s grinning but he can’t see it and all she can hear from inside the basket is a deep sigh. She grabs the edge of the basket and makes sure to keep her face down as she passes under the camera and she makes her way to the lift, struggling to move the basket with Butcher’s weight in it.

“I’m telling you,” she pants, “you need more bananas in your life, less of Frenchie’s cooking.” 

“Are you callin’ me fat?” Butcher’s voice is muffled by the scrubs but she can hear him scoffing at her. 

“I’m saying a banana once in a while wouldn’t hurt.” 

“I didn’t hear any complaints when you were eyeing me, luv,” he chuckles.  

Eve feels herself blushing, “ Damn.”  

She’s saved by their arrival at the lift. She has a moment of anxiety as she realises it’s code locked but her stolen ID tag unlocks it and she can push the button for the sixth floor. 

“We’re in the lift, going up.” she says to Butcher. “Keep quiet now.”

The doors open up onto the ward and Eve can only see a couple of people at the far end of the corridor. Slowly she pushes the cart down the ward, checking the windows in the doors they pass. 

She’s memorised the face and the name of the driver from the MI6 report, Leonard Jones, but she has to stop and do a double take as she glances into a room halfway down the corridor. The driver has a swollen eye and a large surgical patch over his chin but his frosted blonde tips are the same. As quietly as possible she pushes the door open with the laundry cart and moves into the room. The man in the bed seems to be dozing and Eve silently moves over to the bed and unplugs the call button behind the bed. 

“Butcher,” Eve whispers in a low voice, “you can get out, but be quiet.” Butcher pushes the scrubs out of the way and carefully steps out of the basket but as he puts one foot on the floor the basket rolls away under his other foot and he stumbles out of it. The basket rolls off and hits a large piece of medical equipment in the corner with a loud crash. The man in the bed jolts awake and stares at the pair in the room. Eve quickly steps to his side, taking his hand and pretends to check his pulse. 

“Sorry about that, Mr Jones” she says in an American accent. “The laundry guy slipped and woke up half the ward.” 

The man seems to relax and lies back down against the pillows. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you this late but I only just had a chance to come by. My name is Dr Linda Gallagher. I was asked to consult on your case, they wanted a second opinion. I’m sure you’ve been asked this countless times already but if you could tell me what you remember from the day of the attack it would be very helpful.” 

The man sighs and puts his hand to the bandages over his torso,“Like I’ve said before, I really don’t remember much. I was waiting by the car in the basement garage. The Speaker was on the way down to the car and had received a call to ready the car for him. He got out of the elevator and his security detail went to their car and he walked over to my car. I remember seeing him walk over, I felt a pain in my head and then everything went blank. The next thing I know I woke up in the hospital.” 

“Did you see anyone else in the garage?” Eve asks. 

“No, but it’s a garage, you can hide anywhere.” The driver gingerly touches his bandaged chin, looking worried. “The other guys who asked questions didn’t believe me but I really don’t remember what happened. I just felt a pain and blanked out, they said I tried to kill The Speaker but how could I, I mean I was blacked out, just…just like that. Doc, is there something wrong with me?” 

Eve doesn’t answer, instead she takes one of the pillows from behind the driver’s head, places it on the man’s face, pulls out her gun and shoots him. Then she turns to Butcher, her face is blank, void of any emotion, as she raises her gun to him and fires. 

“Fuck.”  

Butcher throws himself to the side as he realises what’s happening and the bullet grazes his right shoulder. He grabs the bed’s railing and yanks it hard, throwing Eve off balance and her second shot hits the wall behind him. As she’s regaining her balance he grabs her gun arm and pulls her down on the floor, smashing her arm against the bed rails and making her drop the gun. She struggles to get up, Butcher has to scramble to get her under control, he grabs her head, knocking it hard on the floor and she goes limp. 

He quickly looks up around the room and spots a face in the window of the door. Butcher throws himself against the door and smashes it open, knocking back the supe, who stumbles to the ground. Butcher is out of the door and launches himself at him but the supe is already up and running down the corridor. Butcher can see people peeking out of doors and at the reception a nurse is frantically shouting down the phone and looking over at Butcher and the man running away from him.

Backtracking quickly he runs into the room with the dead driver and pockets Eve’s gun, she’s still unconscious on the floor, and he lifts her up. When he gets back out into the corridor he runs as fast as he can with her back to the service elevator and hits the button. It’s still on their floor and the doors slide open. He steps in, hitting the button for the loading bay and turns around, willing the doors to close faster. Just as they glide shut he sees an armed guard enter the ward at the other end of the corridor. 

The loading bay is still empty and he hurries out of it, across the street to his car. The rain is even heavier now, it soaks them both but Eve is still out cold in his arms. He carefully puts her in the back seat and jumps into the driver’s seat, starting up the car and pulling out from the curb.  

He drives, staying under the speed limit to not gain any attention, out of D.C. He adjusts the rear view mirror so that he can check on Eve. Her body is limp and her head lolling around as the car moves. 

“Fuck.” He’s going to have to stop and check on her. Turning into an industrial neighbourhood and he pulls over on a dark side street. He opens the back seat door so that he can crouch down beside her head and checks her pulse. It’s slow but steady so he gently pats her check, trying to rouse her. 

“C’mon, Edwards, wake up, Wake up now, darlin’, don’t go doin’ something stupid. Just wake up for me will ya.” He gives her a sharper slap on the cheek and she moans, her eyelids fluttering. “There ya go, c’mon now, wake up, Eve.” He grabs her hand and squeezes it, willing her to pull herself up out of unconsciousness. She blinks her eyes, unfocused and puts her hand to her head, groaning, feeling the lump on her forehead.  

“My head hurts,” she says in a croaky voice, “what the hell happened? Butcher?” Her eyes slowly focus on him, rain dripping down from his beard as he leans over her. 

“The supe got ya, turned up out of bloody nowhere and took control of you. Do you remember anything?” 

“What?” Eve tries to heave herself upright in the car seat but falls back with a groan as the pain escalates in her head.

“Take it easy, there. See if you can sit up slowly, we should get movin’ but it’ll be better if you’re in the front seat so I can keep an eye on ya” Butcher takes her hand and helps her out of the back seat and around to the passenger seat, she’s wobbly on her feet and when she sinks down in the seat she closes her eyes and breathes deeply. 

Butcher gets in on the driver's side and gets the car moving again. Eve’s resting against the side of the seat. Butcher glances over at her as he gets out his phone. 

“Stay with me, luv, don’t drift off again.” 

“I’m trying,” Eve mumbles, forcing her eyes open. “What the hell happened? I just remember talking to the driver and then waking up in the car.” She blinks and tries to shake her head to clear the cobwebs. 

“Hang in there, I’m just gonna call MM and then I’ll fill you in, ok?” Butcher says and holds his phone up to his ear. 

“MM? Ye, we’re on our way back. Had a bit of a hiccup. Eve’s has a nasty bump on her head so just run me through the protocol.” Butcher listens for a bit and nods, “Ok, I’ll keep an eye on her while we’re driving back. Should be there in about four hours. Oh and MM, we need the security camera footage from the hospital’s ward. The fuckin’ supe was there, I got a look at ‘im but if we can get an image we can start lookin’ for ‘im proper. Ok, ta, see ya.” 

“Right,” Butcher says he tucks his phone away. “MM says we need to keep an eye out for signs of concussion in the next few hours. Keep you resting and all that.” 

Eve nods and sits up a bit straighter, putting her hand to her head. “So walk me through what the hell happened in there? The supe turned up and got control of me, then what?” 

“Well, the good news is we don’t need to question the driver about how he was controlled, you now have a first hand account.” Butcher gives Eve a crooked smile. “The other good news is I now know what the fucker looks like and with a bit of luck we’ll have an image and an ID on him soon.”

“And the bad news?” Eve asks. 

“Well…” Butcher hesitates, “you killed the driver with your gun and took a shot at me and the wall too.” He glances over at her. 

“Fuck” she sighs and rubs her hand over her face, “Fuck.” 

“Ye, doesn’t look good seein’ as we weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. And I’m pretty sure I got my face all over those cameras carrying you out.”

“Fuck” Eve curses again, “Fuck, Butcher, I’m sorry. I should’ve considered the possibility of the supe wanting to finish the job.” 

“Ye, but it’s done, we’ll deal with it, been in worse scrapes.” 

“Wait, did you say I shot you?” Eve suddenly remembers. 

“You took a shot at me, I managed to dodge it but you nicked me arm.” He indicates the ripped fabric of his coat, just below his shoulder. 

“Butcher, you’re bleeding!” Eve exclaims and turns to inspect his arm. “Pull over so I can have a look. We should clean it.” 

“It’s nothing, MM can ‘ave a look when we get back.” 

“Let me at least stop the bleeding, Butcher.” 

“Fine, but I’m not pullin’ over again.” he grumbles, “help me out of me coat. Your gun’s in the left pocket and there’s a first aid kit in the back seat.” 

Eve pulls his coat down over Butcher’s right arm and he wriggles out of it, revealing his lurid Hawaii shirt underneath and a gash across his upper arm. Eve carefully pushes up the shirt sleeve and looks at the wound. 

“I’m no expert but I don’t think you need stitches, better to clean it and put a dressing on it.” She gets what she needs from the first aid kit and patches Butcher up. He grits his teeth as she dabs the antiseptic solution and she finishes it off with a large dressing over the wound. When she’s done she pulls down his sleeve. “Can’t do much about the coat, sorry for putting a hole in it.” 

“Not the first hole in it, I’m just thankful you missed any vital parts, luv.” 

“Butcher…” Eve says hesitantly, “thank you for saving me and getting me out. You could’ve left me and been rid of me. MI6 would’ve pulled me back to London.” 

“Ye, well, you’re growin’ on me.” Butcher grumbles, “And you’re about as fucked up as the rest of us so I might as well ‘ave you around until we get this cunt.”

“That might be the strangest compliment I’ve ever got,” Eve laughs, leaning back against her seat again. 

Butcher scratches his beard and throws Eve a guilty look, “Ye well, technically it was me who gave you that lump on your ‘ead too so I couldn’t exactly leave you on the floor” 

“Thanks anyway, Butcher,” Eve smiles. 

She pulls off the wet white lab coat she’s still wearing and throws it in the back seat and looks around. “My tweed coat was in the laundry basket, I guess it got left behind?” 

“Oh ye, sorry, I couldn’t grab it, I ‘ad to pull you out pretty quick.” He glances over at her, “Was it clean, nothing personal?” 

“Yes, no problem, it was just my favourite coat and now I’m freezing, the lab coat was wet.” 

“We got pretty soaked when I carried you out. Grab my coat, don’t want you getting a cold as well as a concussion.” Butcher pulls off his heavy overcoat and gives it to Eve.

“Saving me and sacrificing your coat? What did I possibly do to deserve this?” She pulls the coat over her shoulders and wraps it around her. 

“Better?” Butcher asks. 

“Much better, thanks.” Eve smiles at him, leaning back into the seat again. “It kind of smells like you.”

“Blood, sweat an’ whale blubber?” Butcher chuckles. 

“Oh man, you weren’t wearing this when you crashed into the whale?” Eve grimaces at the coat. 

“Ye, I was actually,” Butcher laughs, “Don’t worry, luv, I’ve ‘ad it cleaned since. I ‘ad to, it was mingin’.” 

Eve tucks her arms around herself inside the coat and leans against the side of the car seat, yawning big. “It smells good actually, maybe you smell good too.”

“You’re clearly delusional from that bump, luv,” Butcher says but he’s smiling at the road. “Get some sleep, we’ve got a few more hours on the road.” 

[top10estateagentsuk]

Today all you have to do to secure a home in a place, say like Edinburgh is to simply connect with the best estate agents in Edinburgh and everything else from there is smooth sailing.

[neevbuildtech]

Neev Buildtech, one of the top 10 property dealers in Gurgaon, has the experience and passion to provide you with the utmost guidance and support throughout your building adventure. The professionals are committed to excellence and have been specializing in complete contracting services for residential properties as well as commercial properties.

[artmusefacts]

18th Century Fashion - A Green Apron

Beyond the Utilitarian: Politics and Femininity 

Aprons were often worn on top of dresses as an additional accessory. Beyond the utilitarian purpose of protecting a dress while doing housework, aprons also served other symbolic and political purposes. Aprons grew to represent typical ideas of women and femininity. This marked a disruption of earlier norms because women of multiple classes–not just women who did housework–began to wear aprons. (I will write more about politics and fashion in future posts!)

Is That Arsenic?

My immediate thought when I saw this apron was that it may have been dyed with arsenic. Arsenic was a very popular dying agent in the late 18th century and 19th centuries (and quite poisonous). One of the many things that arsenic was used for was the creation of an iconic green that looks similar to the green on this apron (an example can be seen in this dress from the 1860s that was dyed with arsenic). However, the dying properties of arsenic were only discovered in 1775 by a chemist named Carl Sheele. It is a possibility, then, that this apron was dyed by arsenic if it dates from the late 18th century. If it does not–and dates to the mid-1700s as indicated by the style–it could have been dyed by woad, weld and/or indigo. 

Sources:

https://teesvalleymuseums.org/blog/post/the-price-of-fashion/#:~:text=Green%20was%20a%20difficult%20colour,'Sheele%20green'%20in%201775.

https://blog.ellistextiles.com/category/indigo/

https://georgianera.wordpress.com/2016/10/27/was-green-fashionable-in-the-18th-century/

image credits: The Metropolitan Museum of Art 1971.242.6, Suzanne Petersen, Bata Shoe Museum, FRC2014.07.406ABC

This is post two of a multipart analysis of this apron.

[beardedmrbean]

Exercise caution! California is unveiling a novel strategy for wealth distribution, prompting concern about its potential replication in other states.

Despite being the most heavily taxed state in the United States, California finds itself grappling with a staggering $68 billion budgetary deficit. Contrary to the metaphorical richness associated with the Gold Rush era, California's fiscal situation resembles Fool's Gold.  

Even Gov. Gavin Newsome couldn’t admit in his recent debate against Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis that the net migration out of California is reaching epic proportions more often than not over one word… TAXES.

The city of Los Angeles and the legislators responsible for California's financial quagmire have devised a fresh tactic within the confines of the conventional playbook. Their query: How can the affluent be subjected to further taxation? How do we squeeze more out of the top 1%? How do we penalize those that are building wealth and want to buy a more upscale home? 

NEW YORK, CALIFORNIA LOST MORE TAX INCOME THAN EVERY OTHER STATE AS PEOPLE FLED LIBERAL ENCLAVES

Considering that a high-income earner in California already endures a 37% federal tax, 13.3% state tax, and additional burdens like Social Security and Medicare, such individuals essentially toil for the state and federal government for seven to eight months annually.

Enter Los Angeles' latest stratagem, instated on April 1, 2023 – the "mansion tax." This levy imposes an additional 4% tax on homes exceeding $5 million and a 5.5% tax on those surpassing $10 million paid for by the buyer.

To illustrate, a $10 million property sale would incur customary 6% selling fees to a real estate agent. However, the purchaser must contend with the mansion tax, necessitating an additional $550,000 in addition to the sale price of the home. This not only intensifies the tax burden on the affluent but also has the potential to depress property values, making acquisitions financially elusive. 

This double whammy affects not only those capable of affording such opulent residences but could reverberate across states, given the trend of rules being adopted at the $1 million threshold in various regions. With the median price of homes at roughly $400,000 across America, how soon will it be before every buyer pays a redistribution… err… a mansion tax?

EX-CALIFORNIA FAMILIES SAY MOVE TO RED STATES WAS CAUSED BY LEFTIST POLICIES AND TAXES: ‘TIME FOR US TO LEAVE’

What should make you worried is that California isn't alone in this trend, as several states have embraced similar measures to extract more revenue from property owners. Presently, six other states impose a mansion tax:

Connecticut: 2.25% on properties surpassing $2.5 million.

District of Columbia: 1.45% on properties sold for $400,000 or more.

Hawaii: Marginal rates ranging from 10% to 20% for estates valued over $5.49 million.

New Jersey: 1% on real estate transactions exceeding $1 million.

New York: 1% to 3.9% on residential acquisitions of $1 million or more.

Vermont: 16% on properties valued over $5 million.

Washington: Graduated rates starting at 1.28% for properties sold at a minimum of $500,000.

The real question will be whether blue states across the country see this as the next pathway to redistributing wealth from those who own higher than average dollar real estate.

As you strive and accumulate resources to potentially secure your dream home and your financial future, be on alert, particularly in states adhering to a blue political ideology as they may unveil yet another method akin to a Las Vegas casino.  

It’s designed to do one thing and one thing only. Separate you from your hard-earned money. If your state hasn't embraced the mansion tax to date, exercise vigilance, as it may loom on the horizon.

[boxwinebaddie]

Hey uncle Nina, this is a pretty depressing ask but what do you do after a breakup from a long relationship, let’s say one year? I’ve been really down in the dumps and I’d like to know :(

-a sad anon who loves your fics

oh, you poor sweet sugar sweet pea :(

you know, i've actually been avoiding my inbox ( not because i don't want to talk to y'all, but because i want to talk to y'all so much that i will sit here for days excitedly answering ask memes and never finish my updates which...we are getting somewhere, i swear! )

but, i will make an exception for you, my moon blossom, since you asked so very nicely and put the uncle nina signal in the sky.

first things first, i know you've probably heard this a lot, but please know i am very sorry about your break up. as you ( or some of you keeping up with me ) may know, i just recently got out of a committed three year relationship which, luckily, was a mutual decision and he's still my best friend...but that's not to say the line isn't still incredibly blurry and that i am not in miserable 25/8! haha!

so obviously, based on that, and the fact that i am kind of everyones kenny mccormick bebe stevens chaotic bisexual girl boss auntfuncle, i might not be the smartest or most responsible person to ask! but i do, care about you and all of you very, very much! so i will impart what limited wisdom i have on you.

and darling, i would say i hope you heal. but i know you will <3 :)

i want to start off by saying: please be sad as long as you want. there is no such thing as being sad about a break up for too long or too short & anyone who tells you that is not being kind to you. you know yourself and you are going through something hard and horrible. be gentle to yourself and let yourself feel the things that you feel.

with that said, any time you need to cry: cry. as loudly and as frequently as you need to. if you need to yell: yell, at the top of your lungs -- wake up your neighbors. laugh if you need to laugh.

those cathartic emotions are healthy. you may feel like you are being melodramatic, but you are taking care of yourself. the worst possible thing to do is tell yourself that what you are feeling is invalid or irrational and bottling those complex emotions. do not bottle please. let it out, my love and please let the light in.

to encourage this catharsis ( in a healthy way ), i suggest watching movies that might trigger powerful emotions in you ( sad movies, angry movies etc. ), listening to loud music ( when i tell you i listened to night shift by lucy dacus and taylor swift all too well 10 minutes for a week straight absolutely screaming and crying until my throat was raw...don't worry about being cringe...i crabwalked so you can run ), write letters to yourself/the person you broke up with in a journal, breaking stuff...uh...do not obstruct property...mayhaps...i would say something else but the government agent in my computer would not like it very much ( b3 g@y d0 cr1m3$ ), go to break rooms, loud concerts, poetry nights...drop a watermelon off something tall.

getting all of those feelings out is my first step.

( other than maybe doing things that will help you get closure depending on the nature of your breakup, be it speaking to that person, or burning everything that reminds you of them...i honestly recommend getting rid of anything that reminds you of/belongs to that person...or upcycling it into something different with a different positive purpose in your life. we live in the present now, past is past. )

next...as we learn to let that hate, angry, sadness go...

we embrace love.

not romantic...not even platonic at first.

but self love. :)

i've mentioned this a couple times, i think. but peppermint, while about two people falling in love, has never actually been about romantic love for me...which may seem weird.

to me, peppermint is a story about falling in love with your best friend and accidentally falling in love with yourself along the way.

peppermint is about loving yourself. flaws and all. <3

to do that, i would start by grounding yourself. remember who you are.

( please don't be like jersey kyle...help. )

what i did was i made a list of things that i know i like. my favorite color, my favorite animal, songs i like, smells, places, clothes, etc.

write down things you know about yourself.

you can also make a list of things you dislike, but i find that welcomes a lot of negative energy and i think that might not be great, tbh?

but get comfortable with yourself! stare at yourself in the mirror for a while. take so many pictures of yourself -- even on bad days. they serve as a reminder of where you came from and later how far you have come. also i think i look ugly when i take pictures and look at them later and realize i was being cruel. you may be like that too.

but yes! write diary entries! notes to yourself! leave voice memos! draw little pictures! tell yourself nice things in the mirror.

at the end of the day, even if you think you have no one.

you will always have you.

and it's important that you love yourself.

not the you that someone else loved or other people might love.

but the you that YOU are.

a good way to do that...my favorite way...

is to take yourself out on dates :)

i would use that information you collected about yourself and start doing your favorite things with yourself! you do not need someone else to do the things that you love and it becomes a you experience.

maybe take yourself to a movie at the cinema, find a park and have a picnic eating your favorite foods, take yourself to a restaurant, take a walk, a bubble bath, watch your favorite movie in your comfiest pajamas, wear that outfit that you were scared to wear.

treat yourself. celebrate yourself. you are worthy of love. YOU.

some people believe that the best way to cure heartbreak is to seek out new romantic love but uh...i would advise against that. specifically through dating apps. they may work for some people, but every experience i have had on a dating app has ranged from awkward to...absolutely fucking terrifying.

i also think that when you go looking for something...you often do not find it and you might find something...you do not want.

with that said, it sounds vague but just...let life happen to you.

i truly believe that what needs to find you will find you. being patient is no fun, i know, but all the best things in life have happened to me when i don't expect them at all.

also, i know it's a vulnerable time, but the best way to get better after you start trying to love yourself and do what you love is...do what you don't know you love yet? stuff you might hate!

try new things! go new places! maybe just to a restaurant you have never been to? a new store? a nature spot you've never seen? take a class/hobby/sport you've never tried. open yourself up to possibility. i know that is frightening, but closing yourself up will only prevent you from being able to grow and heal. it keeps you small. be big. be so big. take up so much fucking space. be obnoxious about it. you deserve to live, you deserve to love. love yourself very much.

but remember that self love and romantic love are not the only types of love...i'm gonna loop back to platonic love.

lean into that warmth. create a strong support system of people around you that can be there for you through this hard time. people that you can talk to, people that can go fun places with you, do cool things with you, people who will pick you up when you are down.

i realize not everyone has access to support system, but please know that if that's the case, that you always have me. my dms are open. even when i am writing or away, you can message me. i usually respond quickly or within in 1-2 day frame but if i see your message and it seems very urgent, i will answer asap wherever i am.

i am here for you. i see you. you are valid and you are so strong. <3

finally, please be kind to yourself and gentle to yourself.

do not punish yourself for your past relationship or your feelings. remember that we all make mistakes and learn from them. i make mistakes everyday and i model that for my students whenever i can. please do not beat yourself up. you are fine. you are okay. what's past is past, it's done, it's gone it's dusted. right now, we are creating a positive present so you can have a fortuitous future, my friend.

here is an excerpt from one of my favorite poems. <3

okay finally x2, healing is not linear. there are ups and downs. ride that rollercoaster. take that journey of self discovery. discover yourself. find yourself. love yourself because you are so, so lovely.

now, from me to you:

remember...it's always darkest before crimson dawn

and from all that hurts and harms you, past, present or future, i hope you heal.

but you will, my miracle…

you absolutely will. :')

-a sad uncle nina who loves you very much </333333

[gwheelerinvestigation]

Comprehensive Timeline of the Events So Far

it's come to my attention that my old timeline was probably very outdated.

1950s-1970s: MKUltra. Some crazy advancement is made that allows later events to take place.

1992-2001: The Living Brain Project. A multinational team made up of hundreds of researchers - many of them former war criminals from Nazi Germany, Japan, and Spain - is conscripted by the US government for a top-secret project. This project involved creating and then killing 999 Simulacra, and mixing their souls/code together to create an amalgamation called the Living Brain, which was portioned into exactly 14,985 flash drives.

3/30/2008: Years after the project was canned by the government, the Alaskan facility that housed the Living Brain Project is entered again for an unknown purpose.

2008-2009: "C.J.", last name unknown, somehow obtains parts of the Living Brain Project Material and begins using it to develop AI beings for a video game that became known as Urrezko Kaiola.

2009-2011: Urrezko Kaiola is beta tested. There are 28 people known to have been involved with the project, including C.J., Abigail and Caroline Wheeler, Jesus "Carmello" de la Rosa, Ross J. Blackwood, Ashton Alexander, Je-eun and Seo-hyun Park, Sarah Williams, Rose Bennett, Eric Ramirez, Kieran M. Jacobs, Kenneth G. Peterson, Maria and David Taylor, and Joshua Campbell.

Early 2012: Urrezko Kaiola is finished.

November 2012: Sarah Williams is found dead. Coroner's report indicates she was electrocuted, death ruled an accident.

May 2013: Abigail Wheeler goes missing.

1/31/2014: Abigail Wheeler is declared dead.

March 2014: Eric Ramirez is found dead in his house by a mailman with two gunshot wounds, one in his chest and one in his head. Death ruled suicide (how was it ruled a suicide?)

4/13/2014: my sister Caroline Wheeler attempts to murder a man, presumed to be C.J., with an illegally owned pistol, but he survives due to body armor. one onlooker is injured. Caroline is arrested.

June 2014: I inherit my sister Abigail's laptop. On it is a game that I played a lot as a bored young teenager. Only recently did I find out that it was apparently an earlier version of a game that would be released to the public much later (see 9/22/2017)

July 2014: Ross J. Blackwood goes missing. He was declared dead within two weeks of his disappearance (why so fast?)

7/31/2014: Caroline Wheeler is sentenced to 9-13 years in prison + 10 years of probation for attempted murder, aggravated assault, and other charges. She would much later make up a false story that I believed for years that she was falsely convicted for Abigail's disappearance instead.

Sometime in 2014: Ashton Alexander breaks into the complex that houses Urrezko Kaiola. He is caught and arrested, and imprisoned for five to six years for breaking and entering.

Summer 2015: Jesus "Carmello" de la Rosa goes missing. As of writing he has not been declared dead. The California property that houses Urrezko Kaiola's systems is allegedly still registered in his name.

December 2015: Kenneth G. Peterson dies in a shootout with the LAPD after a carjacking turned into a shootout.

May 2016: Rose Bennett goes missing.

July 2017: Maria and David Taylor are killed in a drive-by shooting. No suspects were ever arrested.

9/22/2017: Doki Doki Literature Club!!, a polished version of the horror game I played as a kid, is released. This might have Living Brain involvement as well. It was supposedly made by a guy named Dan Salvato.

Spring 2018: Je-eun and Seo-hyun Park are kidnapped at Jeju International Airport by undercover North Korean agents and smuggled across the border. (were they defectors?)

Summer 2018: An album called Urrezko kaiola is released by a Basque punk rock band. (is this even related? coincidence?) at this point, i'm pretty sure this is not related. but i'm keeping it on the timeline cause i like the song

2019: Kieran M. Jacobs goes missing.

January 2020: Ashton Alexander is released from prison.

3/30/2020: Urrezko Kaiola begins being released for consumption for free on the internet with Chapter Zero. Allegedly this version is "sanitized", lacking many of the more overtly dangerous/potentially supernatural elements of the original version. (similarity with DDLC?)

4/3/2020: Chapter One is released.

4/11/2020: Chapter Two is released.

4/13/2020: I get into contact with Ashton Alexander, the other only beta tester I've yet found besides my sisters.

Also 4/13/2020: Another entry into the former Living Brain Project facility is made.

9/5/2020: Chapter Three is released.

9/19/2020: Chapter Four is released.

September 2020: Ashton begins exhibiting strange behaviors and not answering calls. When he can be heard from, he is incoherent.

October 2020: K begins investigating both the events of Urrezko Kaiola and the Living Brain Project.

12/5/2020: Chapter Five is released.

3/8/2021: Chapter Six is released.

3/11/2021: Another entry to the Living Brain Project facility is made, that cannot be accounted for by K's entries.

9/16/2021: I get burgers with Ashton. He ominously states that he "has to do something" and "has to finish his work" before bolting into traffic. When I finally find him, he's leaning over the bridge. He says that this is the last step he needs to take to be "whole". He implores me to "take notes" and "watch what happens next", before jumping off of the 500' drop off the bridge. His body is never discovered.

Also 9/16/2021: Chapter Seven is released.

February 2022: I begin investigating the strange AI characters in earnest.

11/17/2022: Due to the degradation of the platform under Elon Musk, the Urrezko Kaiola characters stage a mass exodus of Twitter (now known as X).

12/4/2022: I create this Tumblr account.

8/21/2023: Chapter Eight is released.

[reality-detective]

DJT's EXECUTIVE ORDERS 👇

13818

● Confiscated private and corporate assets

● Seized the NYSE

● Blocking the property of those involved in serious human rights abuses or corruption. human trafficking

13848

● Imposes certain sanctions in the event of foreign interference in any of the United States choice

13959

● Maintain American leadership in artificial intelligence, Khazarian assets confiscated

● Among the top 3 executive orders - many DS assets were confiscated and DS Agents reversed

○ 13818, 13848 and 13959

● The Space Force has EVERYTHING under control!

● DS money will be used up quickly

● All DS gold has already been confiscated (Vatican etc.)

● Wall Street, Washington DC, Vatican and City of London - all dead

● OPERATION: DEFEND EUROPE. This started March 17th 2020 and takes over the Vatican, it's the mafia and it's seizing all the Rothschilds central banks

● Brexit has severed the Vatican's ropes and stripped the Royals of all assets

● We're going to Tesla and metals instead of oil and gas

GESARA – Global Economic Security and Reform Act

● It should be implemented on 10/11/2001. Stopped by the Khazarian false flag event on 9/11

● Elimination of the national debt of all nations of the world

● No taxes. Only a fixed sales tax of around 15% on new goods

● Waiving of mortgages and other bank departments due to illegal government activities

● Back to constitutional law - get rid of the corrupt law of the sea

● Newly elected leaders - only 10% of current governments

● World peace for 1,000 years

● Eliminate all current and future nuclear weapons on planet earth

● Gold Standard!

● Introduction of new hidden technologies - 6,000 Tesla patents. free energy

● Build and rebuild in all countries at 1950s prices

● The power back to We The People. Global distribution of wealth

● Odin project = World EBS (Emergency Broadcast System)