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#17.01.22
sleepsucks · 1 year
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louisshomesharry · 1 year
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January 2023: timeline
01.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 02.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 03.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 04.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 05.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 06.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Los Angeles 07.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 08.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 09.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 10.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 11.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 12.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 13.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 14.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 15.01.22: harry is in London // louis is MIA 16.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 17.01.22: harry is in Italy // louis is MIA 18.01.22: harry is in London // louis is in Cabos 19.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is in Cabos 20.01.22: harry is in London // louis is MIA 21.01.22: harry is in London // louis is MIA 22.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 23.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 24.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 25.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 26.01.22: harry is in Los Angeles // louis is MIA 27.01.22: harry is in Los Angeles // louis is MIA 28.01.22: harry is in Los Angeles // louis is MIA 29.01.22: harry is in Los Angeles // louis is MIA 30.01.22: harry is MIA // louis is MIA 31.01.22: harry is in Palm Springs // louis is MIA
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georgiaeveritt · 1 year
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Logo Designs
17.01.22
Me
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Joe
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helelookatthegotum · 1 year
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Hızlı ve öfkeli başlandı 17.01.22 w ⭐
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maxrcas · 2 years
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17.01.22
Activity
I still continue my push-pull regime. At this stage progress is rather slow but sustainable, nevertheless I am very happy with my current rate of progression. However, for a long time I was considering starting doing legs, yet the issue is that my genetics make my lower body explode in size, thus i have been abstaining from it till now. Hence for now I will continue working on push and pull.
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microvivero · 2 years
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Reporte 4  |  E03 |  17.01.22  |  34 cm
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dailyamane · 2 years
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Promo art to ch. 86
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liamnews · 2 years
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Liam's recent Twitter Activity - 17/01
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draqe · 2 years
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dailystylinsons · 2 years
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17.01.22: recap
harry is MIA
louis is MIA
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dreamings-free · 2 years
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markbrightman Work in progress, pre tour. LT 2022.
- Louis’ tour manager on instagram 17/1/22
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theworsttwitch · 2 years
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Ya no entiendo nada.
El sábado que hable por teléfono con Enrique, sentí que conectamos, y eso no me había pasado antes. Pero ahora, nuestras conversaciones son muy básicas, no logramos sacar tema de conversación para más.
No quiero que mi estabilidad vuelva a depender de alguien, ya sufrí eso, y no quiero volver a hacerlo. Por eso no debo hacerme ilusiones con nada hasta que no tenga algo concreto, hasta que se vea bien materializado; pero no, por alguna o por otra razón, siempre termino ilusionanda y al final lastimada.
Ayer me invitó a salir, no sé si ir con él. Una gran parte de mi quiere ir, conocerlo, saber cómo somos en persona; pero, otra parte igualmente grande, no comprende como le haré, ¿Que pasa si nos quedamos sin temas de conversación? ¿Que pasa si aparecen esos silencios incómodos que han arruinado tantas citas? ¿Que pasa si no le caigo bien? ¿Que va a pasar si me deja de hablar por qué se da cuenta que no tiene nada en común conmigo?... Todas esas preguntas se hace mi mente todos los días desde que me invitó.
No sé que hacer, estoy más confundida que nunca.
Trato de respirar y asimilar qué, si no pasa nada más entre nosotros, debo aceptarlo y continuar.
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ruhundirilisi · 2 years
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bir platonikliğin daha sonuna geldiiik olmadı yar çalıyor beynimde jkddkjdkdj
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royadventures · 2 years
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jan 17th, 2022 (D-24)
previous log
i'm feeling extremely pissed. it's the aftermath of my morning stress.
a storm hit last night, and of course it happened on the night before i have my visa appointment. so i wake up to receive an earful from my parents, who are telling me to check if the consulate is open, i find out go transit is suspended and theres so much snow in the driveway that we can't leave our house.
while i'm frantically calling the consulate and getting no reply, my mom is downstairs on the phone with my family, loudly cooing at my baby cousin, so damn loud that i can't even think. i was bursting with anger, and i still am. my dad calls me and adds alcohol to my fire, the consulate replies to my email and tells me they can cancel my appointment, i'm relieved.
guess what. oh, guess what. at 11:19am i notice finally, our driveway is being cleared. 11:19am, the perfect time; i could've left my house and made it to line 16, which is now running, by the way. i could've easily made it to my 3pm appointment if my parents didn't worry and stress me so much then completely disregard me. they literally made a stressed mess of me and walked away.
now i have to go in search of my visa on wednesday, straight after an 8am shift. i'll be tired, hungry, i'll reek of coffee and i'll have to navigate on my own because T won't be with me. I'M SO ANGRY I WANT TO SMASH THE WALL IN ! i hate hate hate people who stress you out uselessly for no reason. i hate this day, i hate my rotten luck, i hate everything.
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achubbydumpling · 3 years
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The Black Widow strikes at the Power Broker
(This was inspired by seeing Sharon Carter as the Power Broker in tfatws and this very soft fic, that got me into the ship in the first place.)
Rating: Explicit Words: 2599 Relationship: Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov Additional Tags: Belly Kink, Liquid Bloating, Beer, Stuffing, Under-negotiated Kink, Power Imbalance, Dom/sub, get beached, thigh-fucking
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Sharon Carter was a bitch.
She was also the bitch, that had managed to fool the US government into granting the Power Broker immunity. A pardon!
Natasha was nursing a bottle of beer while she kept an eye on who she thought must be the Power Broker at the Avengers’ cookout. Sharon was throwing back beers like she was dying of thirst.
The sleek, see-through blouse wasn’t doing her any favours, showing off the bloated belly Sharon was sporting. The elegant top just looked out of place on her college girl body. Pot-bellied from drinking too much and eating like shit.
Read on AO3
Nat hadn’t seen her stuff anything remotely healthy in her mouth all evening, just a constant stream of carbs. Alternating from fries to garlic bread to thick potato salad. Everything she ate off the grill thickly covered in sticky-sweet barbeque sauce. The corners of her mouth were stained with it.
An image flashed in Natasha's mind of her licking it off. She shook her head and imagined herself plunging a knife into the traitor's stomach instead. Nat clenched her teeth and adjusted her position in the huge, cushioned deck chair.
Sharon continued downing bottles at an alarming rate. Every so often she would make eye contact with Natasha across the room, then take a long sip and lick her lips. Nat looked away first.
Even though Sam had clearly tried to initiate a conversation, Sharon turned on her heel and disappeared into the lake house Tony had rented out. Nat was up and out of the chair in a second, unconcerned with being inconspicuous. Sharon had practically called her to follow.
She was on the second floor, standing in front of the huge windows overlooking the lake. Her clothing blended in well with the vaguely nautical white-blue décor and furniture, but her body stood out like a sore thumb. Natasha worried if Sharon wanted a fight, but she hadn't even put her beer bottle down.
She turned around when Natasha was half-way across the room and stopped her with a look. Just about a foot and a half between them. She kept quiet, wanted to know what the famed Power Broker had to say.
“I can see it in your eyes, Natasha.” Sharon spat her name like she was trying to get rid of a bad taste in her mouth.
Nat’s fingers twitched for the knife strapped to her leg under her sundress. She wasn’t sure how Sharon would react if she felt threatened, if Sharon thought her secret identity was in danger of being discovered.
With incredible speed Sharon's hand shot out and grabbed Natasha by the chin, forcing her to keep eye contact.
“Your little crush,” Nat jerked her head back. I don’t have a crush on you, on the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it.
“I’m— I don’t—” Nat stumbled over the words with practiced awkwardness. The widows were well-trained in getting their opponents to lower their guard—through whatever means necessary.
Sharon clearly wasn’t looking for an equal, she was looking for someone to slap around a bit. Why go on the offensive right away? Let her enjoy the illusion of a power imbalance. Nat could manage that. Maybe Sharon would get distracted enough for Nat to get some valuable information out of her.
“Oh, sweetheart. You do. You’ve been watching me all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice you shifting around in that chair the entire time. Were you thinking about me, hm?” Sharon teased.
She kept her eyes on Natasha when she tipped the bottle back and took another long swig of it. Some condensation dripped of the ice-cold bottle and ran down her chin.
Nat caught herself following the droplet and jerked her gaze back up. It wasn’t very difficult to make herself blush then. Averting her eyes, ducking her head. She started twisting a strand of hair around her finger for good measure.
“I just— I was thinking how you looked in that top.” Nat’s eyes flicked to the revealing neckline. “How good you look in that top.” Sharon studied her for an uncomfortably long moment and Natasha was thrown off her balance when she barked out a laughter.
“Sink your teeth in or leave it be. Don’t play your little games with me, Widow.”
Natasha’s nostrils flared. She steadied her stance, the thigh holster pulled against her bare skin. She dropped the insecure act. Recalibration on the fly. Sharon was soaking in her victory of pushing Natasha off her balance. Counterattack? Or commit to the act? The way Sharon’s eyes racked over Natasha made her decision easy.
“I want to fuck you.” Natasha said, matter of fact. Sharon chuckled, bit her bottom lip, stuck out her chin and raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah? Maybe I should let you. Build that team spirit and all.” Nat almost snarled with irritation, but she kept her face devoid of that emotion for now. Keeping quiet and prompting her to go on.
Sharon swirled the last sip around in the bottle. Then, finally downed it. Head thrown back, throat exposed, eyes closed. Nat could imagine herself plunging her knife into her carotid artery, pulsing there, that soft spot under her ear. That velvety feel of it against her lips. Nat almost physically recoiled. Sharon let her head fall forward again and looked up at Nat through her lashes.
“Get me another beer.” The empty bottle dangled in her fingers, arm barely outstretched enough for Nat to reach, forcing her to take a step forward.
“I don’t want to get you another beer.”
“Get it and maybe I’ll let you make me come.” Commit, Natalia.
“Fine.” Nat snapped and snatched the bottle from Sharon and stalked back outside where the cookout was still in full swing.
Nat blindly grabbed two unopened bottles from the table outside. The music someone had put on quieted to a low droning again when Nat made her way back inside, taking the stairs two steps at once. When she reached the top Sharon was watching her.
“Eager.” She commented with a smile. Sharon grabbed both of the bottles from Natasha, opened one with the other and lay down on the white couch. Back propped up against one of the arms of the couch. She put the unopened bottle on the end table behind her back and took a long sip from the other.
Nat became aware that she was still standing on the same spot where Sharon had taken the beers from her. Before she could think of what to do Sharon patted her own thigh.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Natasha scoffed at the pet name, but she immediately started towards Sharon. She settled on Sharon’s thighs, straddling her tightly. She was grabbing her own thighs. Breath in. This is a game.
Her hands move to Sharon’s thighs then. Pliable under her fingers, yet thick chords of muscle underneath the softness. Breath out.
She leant forward, mindful of Sharon’s bloated belly. Moving in confidently to kiss the Power Broker, but before she could make contact, Sharon put the neck of the beer bottle against her lips and pushed her back.
“Did I tell you to kiss me?” Natasha was shaking her head before her brain caught up with what she was doing. She froze, forcefully relaxed her body and said with much more confidence than she should be feeling, “No.”
Sharon nodded and went back to sipping her beer. Nat could see Sharon moving away into her mind, ignoring the woman sitting in her lap, basically begging her to let her kiss, touch, feel. The moment stretched into a minute of stillness and quiet. Nat could feel her legs falling asleep from how she was perching herself over Sharon.
“What do you want me to do?”
Sharon smirked and waved the bottle over her body, have at it. This time Sharon’s sharp gaze remained on Natasha and didn’t wander. Nat sat back on her haunches, pins and needles travelled up her thighs from the change in position.
She let her eyes roam over the woman in under her. Lazily relaxed like sated big cat. A powerful strength thrumming at her core, relaxed into the cushions. Laid out beneath Natasha and still firmly in control of this situation. All the smooth lines of her body pulled back and pointing at—
Oh.
Nat had always been good at seducing what the people she was sent after really cared about. What they wanted—needed—to become pliable little toys in her hands. However, she’d never had to deal with it overlapping with her own desires.
Her stomach fluttered, she couldn’t help but look away. Nat adjusted her position, wanted to stamp down that sickly sweet feeling rising in her chest before she gave herself away. She dragged her eyes up to face Sharon again.
And the jaws of her trap snap shut with a predator grin. Nat squirmed under the intensity of the Power Broker’s gaze.
Too late. The hunter’s got its eyes on you.
Sharon rested the ice-cold bottle of beer against Natasha’s thigh forcing her to gasp and straighten up to her knees again. She dragged her hand up under that pretty little sundress Natasha had dressed up in. Sharon could see Natasha struggling to hold still, her legs were trembling, and goosebumps racing up her arms.
The back of Sharon’s hand dragged up Nat’s thigh, the cold bottle occasionally sending a jolt through her. When her hand had finally disappeared under the fabric she first unbuckled the thigh holster and threw the gun on the floor. Then, Nat could feel her curling out her thumb and stroking it across the thin fabric of her underwear.
The motion had heat pooling between Nat’s legs. Her muscles there pulse despite her trying to stay unaffected. She's sure, she’d feel herself slick if she pushed a finger underneath her dress. Sharon must feel it too, but instead of giving Nat what her body was clearly begging for, she brought the beer bottle back to her lips and emptied it completely.
The sudden loss of Sharon’s hand between her legs had Natasha collapsing forward. She caught herself, but not before basically draping her entire upper body across Sharon’s belly. She moaned at the sudden heat, so opposite the cold condensation still damp on her thigh.
Nat didn’t think when she scrambled at Sharon’s top, trying to push it up and out of the way to get her hands on that stretched skin underneath. She whined impatiently when she couldn’t get the blouse untucked. Fingers uncoordinated. Trying to pop the straining button on Sharon’s high-waisted jeans.
“Slow down, sweetheart.”
Natasha clenched her thighs around Sharon, she whimpered with the frustration of slowing herself down, but she finally managed to get the button open. Sharon’s belly sagged against the zipper and pushed it open. Natasha tugged the flaps of her jeans down and finally got her hands on the Power Broker’s belly.
The little paunch that had spilled out of Sharon’s tight jeans was marked with angry, red lines from the denim digging into it. Nat soothed her fingers over them and discovered to her delight that in between some stretchmarks were sprinkled. She wanted to get her mouth on this delicious softness, undisturbed even by the bloated mound above it.
Sharon could see Natasha wetting her lips, desperate to lick at the wide expanse of her belly. She grabbed the second bottle of beer Natasha had brought up from the end table. When Natasha didn’t think to check back in with her, Sharon fisted her hand into the red hair and forcefully pulled her head back. Natasha was panting open-mouthed, eyes wild and unfocused.
The Power Broker pushed the head of the unopened bottle into her mouth. Metal clinking against the Widow’s teeth. No comprehension on her face, she tried to lick at the intrusion, but Sharon stopped her with a yank at her hair.
“Open it.”
“What?” Nat breaths unintelligently.
The bottle cap clinked painfully against her teeth. Nat bit down to make it stop moving and Sharon started leveraging the cap against her teeth. It feels like she was breaking Natasha's molars out of her jaw.
Nat opened her mouth ready to let the bottle go but Sharon fucks two fingers into her cunt instead. The painful stretch made Natasha bite down hard again. After adjusting to the intrusion Natasha tries to grind down into the pleasure that started prickling just inside her, but as soon as the bottle cap popped off the Power Broker wrenched her fingers out of her.
Natasha whimpered above Sharon. She had to grab Natasha’s hands and force them back onto her own bloated belly, when Natasha tries to ease the burning in her cunt.
The liquid inside Sharon's belly shloshed around every time Natasha adjusted her kneeling position, but the hands rubbing over her belly kept Sharon from telling Natasha off just yet.
Natasha was pushing herself more and more into Sharon’s over-sensitive belly, grinding against the bloat, trying to get some friction on her neglected clit. Sharon was about to yank her back into place by her hair, when the tendrils of pleasure mixed in with the cramping pain of her stomach trying to adjust to all the beer she’d guzzled over the evening.
Sharon choked down another huge gulp of beer, she needed to finish this fast, or she wouldn’t be able to finish it at all. She moaned around the neck of the bottle, keeping her lips wrapped tightly around it to keep from spilling anything. It seemed an impossible task to drink even more, but she forced herself to swallow again. Natasha’s fingers were feeling at her stretched lips, but Sharon was too preoccupied with chugging that last swallow to slap the probing hand away.
She let the empty bottle clatter to the floor and immediately pushed her cold hand between her legs. First, just her fingers against the denim, then she scooted down on the couch and pushed her hand down her jeans. She was ridiculously wet, her fingers working around her clit creating filthy wet sounds.
Her core muscles tried to contract, but they were forced apart so much by the liquid in her stomach she couldn’t really grind down on her own fingers. Natasha had left all pretense of pride behind, full-on riding Sharon’s thigh.
Not using her hands like a good girl and instead trying to get off on the friction alone. Natasha clamped down on Sharon's thighs, squeezing almost painfully tight. Her fists clenched against Sharon's gut, clearly trying not to grab.
Seeing the great Widow like this pushed Sharon closer to her orgasm. While Natasha was left uselessly rutting against her jeans, making a mess on the fabric even through the panties Nat was still wearing.
Sharon flicked her fingers faster and faster just to the left of her clit. Too sensitive for direct contact right now, but the indirect vibrations had her straightening her legs and throwing her head back. She kept stroking herself through that first orgasm and plunges into that second one when she pushed through her oversensitivity.
Natasha was still riding her thigh, though her hips finally stuttered to a halt. She was panting same as Sharon, though she was clearly still unsatisfied.
Sharon quickly composed herself again. A cool expression slid back on her face. Though she couldn't leave Natasha without any kind of reward. Sharon dragged her down into a sloppy kiss, then whispered with a malicious grin:
“Didn’t think it’d be this easy to tame a Widow.”
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neilirving73 · 2 years
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Monday 17.01.22
Really didn’t want to wake up this morning, had coffee and then went for a walk to the stables before heading off to the garage, I had to take heathers yard boots and jacket, she didn’t want to be carrying them around in collage all day, work was busy and our new mechanic settled in well, finished on time and when I got we had some dinner and then chilled out in front of the tv till it was time…
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