Tumgik
#europe these last 2 months.
pierog · 11 months
Text
so i applied for a DREAM JOB and out of 6000 applicants!!! I ended up in the final 15 😟
…and I did SOOOOO soooooo well til the very last round 😔 i accidentally became privy to some scathing information from the judging panel. ouuuuuuuchhhh lol my insecurities.
proud of myself for being true to myself and getting far as i did, though.
#also i got covid so feeling a bit self pitying at the moment#i honestly have massive beef with their criticisms#i left this country when i was 5 and have ended up with a lot of cultural differences#sorry English ppl reading this but i feel like the UK is very caught up on appearances. for example:#it’s an outdoorsy job and the panel were unimpressed i didn’t come in my hiking boots + wet weather gear#umm…. yeah because we are SITTING INSIDE ON A SUMMER’S DAY???#it felt like posing to me? i grew up in rural NZ so I’ve spent majority of my life in the bush#PS most of the hiking boots i did see were obviously pristine and never taken on an actual hike 🙄#yes i own that stuff. no im not gonna wear it just to prove a point. i wore jeans and the same shoes ive been wearing while hiking across#europe these last 2 months.#also the NZ wilderness is so much more rugged like these hikes in UK/europe would barely count as a casual day walk to me#so our standards are very different#and we both left feeling quite unimpressed with each other I think#i’ll provide one more rant: one of the exercises involved wiring up a plug. i did it successfully but failed cos I didn’t plug it in after#well um. my mama is a scientist and taught me not to fuck with electricity unless i’m 100% sure#yes I did all the wiring right but it was still my first time so I’m being cautious. apparently that’s a bad thing 🤷‍♀️#enough rants from me but basically yeah lots of little things like that which I disagree with
9 notes · View notes
entropyvoid · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media
Golden Hour (+ lineart below cut)
I took a picture of the lines for once and did some basic crappy photo editing on my phone, so you could probably print this out and use it as a coloring page or something if you so wish lol. Do with it what you will.
Tumblr media
73 notes · View notes
frog-scream · 26 days
Text
my birthday is Thursday, so it would be really sick if the random shit I've ordered recently showed up then. It would be really cool and poggers
8 notes · View notes
non-un-topo · 6 months
Text
Daily November crying sessions start today
#why. who. how. how tf does my professor think it's okay to assign 4 major assignments in the same amount of weeks + 4-6 readings every week#all of which are ~20 pages.#i've got all that to do and another big assignment for a different class. plus the weekly readings and reflections for that one.#and i have work.#i've stupidly decided to volunteer for a thing on saturday in the hopes of bulking up my resume + rubbing elbows with the administration.#and i have a medical thing on friday and i'll be looped out and likely will have to sleep half the day. probably won't get ANY work done.#what else..... some fairly easy stuff for my other class thank GOD. but a lot of reading and preparing for a few big essays.#november is the month i hate the fucking most. i always lose my mind in november. and no wonder!!!!!!#meanwhile people are bugging me to hang out. i will be in a student-coma until approx. the first week of december. see you then. peace.#oh and my BIL + SIL sitting me down and showing me all their europe honeymoon photos for 2 HOURS last night is also not helping my mood.#fuck you lol#like i'm happy for you and nice photos but also? Fuck You.#if i can offer some dark humour though.....#my fic axis exists because of a legitimate smidge of insanity i experienced last year. it shifted the way i looked at the world and at grie#sooooo i wonder what kind of fic my mind will crank out this time?#i don't think i'm at risk of losing it this year though. doesn't seem that way. but we'll see!#i can write/draw good things without sacrificing my mental health first i can write/draw good things without sacrificing my mental health f#rst i can write/draw good things without sacrificing my mental health first i can write/draw good things without sacrificing my mental heal
11 notes · View notes
deadpanwalking · 2 years
Note
i swear to god, i refreshed my page and was about to type your username in the search bar so i could send you a message to say i hope you've been doing well and then your latest reblog appeared at the top of my dash!! anyway i hope you're doing well and that you saw the brief succession teaser in the hbo trailer the other day <33
Unfortunately, my queue has been doing most of the heavy lifting—a couple of months back, I was offered an incredible opportunity to travel and do some research for a few things I've been working on. I never anticipated I'd miss this hellsite as much as I, in fact, do—let me tell you, it just isn’t the same screaming about the Succession teaser to octogenarian Latvian Jews.
47 notes · View notes
paraskao · 5 months
Text
it's me and my eastern europe six of crows au against the world
4 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Crow keeping an eye on their surroundings
9 notes · View notes
waugh-bao · 11 months
Text
*
#the last two weeks have been mental#I passed in my last paper for this term on the 24th#which means I’m officially done with the first year of my PhD#and I got news yesterday that I got a high pass on my French translation exam#so I only have to take one more test (could be in Russian or Portuguese or Hebrew or Arabic. my choice based on what I already have) to#finish my language requirements#[which is one of those things that doesn’t seem like a big deal but you can’t go to prospectus defense without it done]#and to multiply the crazy#the Friday before last#I got news that a proposal is submitted to a call for chapters (which I 100% thought I would be turned down on) was accepted#so I’m going to have a whole 40-50 page research project brought out as a chapter in a book by a major U.S. university press#never mind that I’m leaving in 2 weeks#to travel around Europe and Asia for the next 3 months doing research work and visiting friends#I was at such a low point at the start of this term 2 or 3 months ago#burned out and not feeling good about my work and just generally having a time of it with everything#but it feels like everything has turned around so drastically in such a short amount of time#and pushing myself through the bad/hard parts was worth it to come out the other end#anyway I’m rambling#but it’s been amazing to get things to look forward to and move towards making real accomplishments#especially after not sleeping more than 5 hours a night for like 9 months#not the stones#me stuff
3 notes · View notes
the-joy-of-knowledge · 4 months
Text
Becoming an Intelligent Woman
My Dears,
There is no greater goal than being a fine woman who is intelligent, kind, and elegant. As much as we all want to be described with these adjectives, it takes a great amount of discipline to get there. It is very doable only if you are ready to put in the work.
Here are steps you can add to your routine in the next 4 weeks that will make you 1% more intelligent than you were before. This is a process that should become a habit not a goal. It is long term, however, I want you to devote just 4 weeks into doing these steps first and recognize the changes that follow.
Watch documentaries: This is the easiest step, we all have access to Youtube. Youtube has a great number of content on art, history, technology, food, science etc that will increase your knowledge and pique your curiosity. I really did not know much about world history especially from the perspective of World war 1 & 2, the roaring 20s, Age of Enlightenment, Jazz era, monarchies etc but with several channels dedicated to breaking down history into easily digestible forms. I have in the last 4 weeks immersed myself into these documentaries. Here are a few I watched:
The fall of monarchies
The Entire History of United Kingdom
The Eight Ages of Greece
World War 1
World War 2
The Roaring '20s
The Cuisine of the Enlightenment
2. Read Classics: I recommend starting with short classics so that you do not get easily discouraged. Try to make reading easy and interesting especially if you struggle with finishing a book. Why classics? You see, if you never went to an exclusive private school in Europe or America with well crafted syllabus that emphasized philosophy, history, art, and literary classics, you might want to know what is felt like and for me this was a strong reason. Asides that, there is so much wisdom and knowledge available in these books. In these books, you gain insights to the authors mind, the historical context of the era, the ingenuity of the author, the hidden messages, and the cultural impact of these books. Most importantly, you develop your personal philosophy from the stories and lessons you have accumulated from the lives of the characters in the books you read. Here are classics to get you started:
Animal Farm by George Orwell
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald
Candide by Voltaire
Paradise lost by John Milton
3. Study the lives of people who inspire you: I dedicate one month to each person that fascinates me. I read their biography (date of birth, background, death, influences, work, style, education, personal life) For this month, I decided to study Frank Lloyd Wright because I was fascinated by the Guggenheim Museum in New York. I began to read about his influence in American Architecture (Organic architecture, Prairie School, Usonian style), his tumultuous personal life, his difficult relationship with his mentor (Louis Sullivan), his most iconic works etc. By the end of the year I would have learned the ins and outs of people I am inspired by through books and documentaries. Here are other people I plan to learn more about:
Winston Churchill
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis
Ada Lovelace
Benjamin Franklin
Helen Keller
John Nash
Isabella Stewart Gardner
Caroline Herrera
Ernest Hemingway
Catherine the Great
Ann Lowe
My dears, I hope you enjoyed this read. I cannot wait to write more on my journey to becoming a fine woman. I urge you to do this for four weeks and see what changes you notice. Make sure to write as well, it is important to document your progress.
Cheers to a very prosperous 2024!
2K notes · View notes
qwimchii · 7 months
Note
i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲
𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺
Tumblr media
𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…
note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><
pt 2, pt 3
Tumblr media
Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.
of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.
setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 
the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.
— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?
— sure!! good to hear from you :))
— what time??
— 7.
it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.
stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.
definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.
you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.
“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”
“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 
“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.
when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”
then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—
“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”
“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.
then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”
just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.
“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”
you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.
“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.
when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.
“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 
with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.
that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.
in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.
you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 
he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.
it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.
she’s taken.
your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?
whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.
when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 
or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.
you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.
he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.
another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.
then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.
the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.
when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?
unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.
those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.
you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.
when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.
Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.
you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.
had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…
swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”
looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.
“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.
for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.
eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.
you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.
immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.
“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.
you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 
“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.
he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.
then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”
don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.
the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.
when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.
leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.
he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.
“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.
“i know you must be tired but—”
“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.
“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.
“s’reason why i’m here, love.”
at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.
“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.
closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.
“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.
once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.
you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.
from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.
“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.
“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.
you blushed. this was very very new.
he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.
playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”
you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.
“‘course.”
“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.
for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.
he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.
“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 
you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.
the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.
then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”
you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.
you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.
“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 
you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.
when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.
“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.
from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.
the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.
you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.
and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.
you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.
sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.
your mind spun. but you were so nervous.
it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.
words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?
when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.
what the hell is wrong with you?
you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.
“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.
“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.
“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”
sweet thing.
swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”
“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”
you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.
lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.
“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.
“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.
“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.
your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.
you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 
you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.
even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.
frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.
“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.
it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—
a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.
you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.
why were you crying?
brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”
you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.
“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.
you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.
and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.
then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.
“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.
your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.
“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.
“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.
“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.
clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 
“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”
he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”
“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.
“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”
a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”
you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.
“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”
his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.
“my ex boyfriend.”
his body went tense against you.
“look at me luvie.”
you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.
when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”
it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.
“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”
you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.
“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.
“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.
“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.
“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.
“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”
“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”
you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.
“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”
his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.
“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.
your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.
it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.
“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.
“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.
he huffed a laugh into your ear.
“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.
“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”
you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.
“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”
“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.
he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.
“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”
your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.
“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.
you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 
“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.
when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.
“think you can do that four more times, baby?”
when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @ivybeeloved
4K notes · View notes
6ebe · 2 years
Text
flying to Vietnam today lol 😳
1 note · View note
em-dash-press · 7 months
Text
Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories
Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 
The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 
1. Start a New Chapter
Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.
Ideas to End a Chapter
The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)
The characters end a conversation
One character informs another of a plot twist
Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash
2. Emphasize the Season
You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.
If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.
3. Visualize a Movie Montage
Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 
You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.
Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.
Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:
One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.
My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.
My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.
4. Showcase Some Confusion
Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.
These are some examples:
I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?
The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?
Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.
5. Employ a Phrase
There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:
Later that morning
A few weeks later
After months of trying
Six hours later
The following week
As the store closed for the night
-----
There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 
Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Paul Blest at More Perfect Union:
Thousands of workers at a Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga, Tennessee have voted to join the United Auto Workers, defying an all-out union-busting effort from the state’s political leaders and marking a key victory for the United Auto Workers in their renewed effort to organize the South and non-union plants.
Unofficial results tallied Friday showed that after three days of voting, more than two-thirds of workers voted to join the UAW. The win in Chattanooga is the first successful attempt to organize a non-union automaker in decades and comes after multiple failed attempts to organize the plant, including in 2014 and 2019. More than 4,300 workers were eligible to vote this week.  “I can't explain it. It's not like the first times,” Renee Berry, who has worked at the Chattanooga plant for 14 years and through two prior facility-wide votes, told us in the lead-up to the election. “The first few times was hell…now it's like we can roll our shoulders back, because we got it.”  Volkswagen is the world’s largest auto company by revenue, and until today, every one of its plants around the globe has been unionized except for one.
"This is going to be in history books down the road. This is huge—forever huge,” Robert Soderstrom, a worker at the plant, told More Perfect Union. “People recognize for the first time in a long time, on a mass scale, that there's got to be some changes. And some of the power and stuff that's gone to the corporate world needs to come back to us little guys.” The victory in Tennessee continues a winning streak for the UAW, which negotiated record contracts at the Detroit Three of Ford, GM, and Stellantis last year following a lengthy “stand-up” strike. After passing the contracts, UAW President Shawn Fain announced a $40 million effort to organize non-union U.S. plants, largely based in right-to-work states like Tennessee and owned by auto companies based in Europe, Japan, and South Korea, as well as EV manufacturers like Tesla and Rivian. 
Since launching that new effort, more than 10,000 autoworkers around the country have signed union cards, according to the UAW. Earlier this month, workers at a Mercedes plant in Vance, Alabama became the second group to file for an election, which will be held from May 13 to 17. Alabama Gov. Kay Ivey and the state Chamber of Commerce have forcefully opposed the unionization effort, claiming it would hurt Alabama autoworkers—who, even before the pandemic, were making less than they did in 2002 when adjusted for inflation. The same dynamic has played out in Tennessee. Gov. Bill Lee, who denounced the last unsuccessful union campaign in 2019, said it would be a “mistake” for workers at the Chattanooga plant to unionize and boasted about the state’s “right-to-work” law. 
🚨🚨 BREAKING:🚨🚨 Workers at the Volkswagen (VW) plant in Chattanooga have voted yes to join the United Auto Workers (UAW) after 2 failed attempts in 2014 and 2019. #UAW #VWChattanooga #1u
423 notes · View notes
aestheticaltcow · 1 month
Text
The Aftermath
Part 3 of Six Months universe
Part 1: Six Months Part 2: The Night When It Went Wrong
Tumblr media
MDNI 18+
You groaned as you stretched, trying to crack your back. You’d been cleaning all afternoon, Carmy was still MIA, and this was the one thing you knew would distract you enough not to storm into The Bear demanding to know where your husband had been last night. You hopped up on the counter and grabbed your phone from the charger. A knot formed in the back of your throat when you saw a text from Carmy displayed on your lock screen.
Sorry about last night, baby.
On my way home.
“Okay. Fuck you, Carmy. At least you’re alive.” you mumbled to yourself before hopping down from the counter and going down the hallway to your bedroom. You knew the two of you would have a screaming match when he got home; you rolled your eyes at the thought. He was usually predictable; this running away from home debacle threw you for a loop. Since the fighting was inevitable, you opted to take care of yourself a little bit at least, and an everything-shower seemed like the move.
Pregnancy was hard; you were in a constant state of nausea, you were exhausted, you had almost daily migraines toward the end, and, oh boy… hormones were interesting. You gained a decent amount of weight, but loved how you looked. Carrying Mia made every body insecurity you had vanish. You felt powerful as she grew in your womb, and the feelings were only amplified by the way Carmy would caress your stomach at night when he’d get home from work. He’d pepper kisses across your stomach and talk to Mia as he helped you rub shea butter in an attempt to prevent stretch marks. You laughed about it now as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Cellulite, stretch marks, loose skin, and a c-section scar decorated your body. All those insecurities you’d thought vanished returned as soon as you showered for the first time post-partum. You didn’t want anyone to see you, especially Carmy. 
You’d always been so secure in your relationship with Carmy. Something ignited within you when you saw him sitting at the bar by himself the night the two of you met. He was sexy and aloof. You had turned to your friend and told her, ‘I’m gonna marry that guy,’ and cocked your head in Carmy’s direction. She gave you a nod of approval, and you were off. He was shy and confused about why the prettiest girl in the bar would want to talk to some loner drinking a ginger ale instead of one of the guys coming up to her throughout the night. After months of casual hookups or late-night lounging around his apartment, Carmy found the courage to take you out on an actual date. After that, you declared he was your boyfriend. He admitted to being in love with you and was overjoyed when you returned the sentiment. Carmy was your knight in shining armor. You knew he was in your corner if you ever had a problem or needed to talk about something. It was you and him against the world, and it only amplified when he proposed to you. The two of you had a small wedding on the beach and decided to travel for a few months. When the two of you started dating, Carmy recounted tales from his time in culinary school- you were shocked that the man had lived in Frances for years but hadn’t explored the city beyond his campus or the restaurants he worked at. Exploring Europe together felt like a dream; it was everything you’d wanted to do with him. The two of you hadn’t planned on having kids, but after a couple of years of living as a married couple and buying your home, it felt like a natural progression to just ‘see what would happen’ if you got off of your birth control.
Now you stood in the shower while your mother took care of your baby and your bitch of a husband hid at work. You sighed and exited the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel and tying your bathrobe at the waist. You checked your phone to see no new messages from Carmy and that Natalie had left you on read.
As you blow-dried your hair, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of Carmy doing something dumb last night. You knew he’d never cheat on you, but the curiosity about where he’d gone was killing you. You took your time blowing out your hair and doing your skincare routine. As you brushed your teeth, you heard the front door open. “Hey… I’m home.” Carmy’s voice called through the house. Your stomach twisted at the sound. You took a deep breath and quickly put on deodorant before walking out of the bathroom in a pair of fresh pajamas. After contemplating jumping out the window to avoid this conversation from happening, you cautiously exited the bedroom. You went down the hallway to see Carmy washing his hands in the kitchen.
“Hey.” you grinned, rubbing your arm nervously. Carmy inhaled sharply before closing the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he took in the scent of your conditioner. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have left like that,” he spoke into your hair. You sighed and hesitantly hugged him; he rubbed circles into your back and wished to go back in time and change what had happened. 
“Where were you? You’ve never done something like that before- I thought you were dead or something Carmy.” Carmy tucked your head under his chin and contemplated what he should say. He knew he’d have to come clean eventually but wanted to relish in this moment.
“I just drove around and went to work early.” he lied, hoping you’d not push it further. Natalie had ripped him a new one when he’d confessed the details of his indiscretion. She ranted about how she’d feel if Pete had treated her like that; she’d kick his ass to the curb. “You realize she’s gonna leave your ass, right? You absolutely can not sleep at my house- Carmen Anthony Berzatto, you’re no better than Dad.” before he could respond, Natalie threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t come clean to you about what happened. Carmy wanted to tell you, but being compared to his father was something he hadn’t expected Natalie to say. He didn’t know the guy that well, but he knew a little about the cheating. He didn’t have a second family or kids outside his marriage with Donna, but he saw the hurt it put her through and vowed never to be like the man. Now he stood in his kitchen holding his wife- the love of his fucking life, lying about his whereabouts from the night before. Yeah, he didn’t get past third base, but would he have gone all the way if he had gotten hard? Would you constitute this as cheating? Would you leave him and keep Mia from him? He pushed the thoughts back and pressed his nose into your hair. He took in the scent of your conditioner, just in case this was the last time.
You pulled away from the hug and nodded, “Okay. I trust you, but never do something like that again. You scared the crap out of me.” 
Carmy and you sat at the dining room table that night and talked about your insecurities postpartum and that while you were medically cleared to have sex, you were nervous about the actual act. He nodded, and you felt vindicated. You kissed his cheek and headed into the kitchen to order dinner. Carmy grinned and fished his phone out of his pocket. He deleted his text chain with Selena and quickly blocked her number before you came back to ask if he had any preferences for dinner. Carmy shook his head, “Whatever you want, baby.”
The two of you ate dinner in the living room and watched the newest cheesy romcom on Netflix. Carmy sat back and took in the moment. It was like when the two of you had started dating. You’d always had some kind of freelance video editing job or some other creative endeavor that gave you a good amount of flexibility in your schedule. No matter how late he’d get off, you were always down to come over, watch a movie, eat takeout, or whatever new recipe he was trying to perfect. You explained that quality time was your main language, so as long as you were together, you were happy doing whatever with him. 
As the movie continued, you’d put your head on Carmy’s chest and held onto his waist. He had an arm around your shoulder- he stunk of his usual kitchen smells and smoke, but there was another scent you couldn’t quite place. “I should probably shower if you wanna cuddle, baby.” he laughed as you pushed a hand under the hem of his T-shirt. Carmy had long forgotten about the hickey that decorated his collarbone. You hummed in disagreement, “Your BO is comforting Carm…” 
Carmy laughed and kissed the top of your head. Carmy tapped your shoulder as the movie ended, signaling he wanted to get off the couch: “I need a shower, baby.” He shifted in his seat, and you looked up at him. “Kiss me?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. Carmy swallowed and hurriedly nodded as he gently placed his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss as the taste of tobacco and spearmint flooded your tastebuds. You removed your hand from under Carmy’s shirt and put it on his cheek. Carmy wasn’t sure where to put his hands. This felt like a 180 from the previous day, confusing and excited him.
You threw a leg over Carmy’s hips to straddle him as the kiss turned more passionate. Carmy’s hands found your hips; his touch felt like electricity shooting through your body in the best way. You pulled away from the kiss, gently pulling Carmy’s bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. You ran your hands down Carmy’s chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of your nails tickling his skin through the material of his shirt. “Still need me, baby?” you asked, leaning in to kiss Carmy’s jaw. “Still need to be inside of me?” you said as you trailed kisses up his jaw toward his earlobe. You felt his cock harden beneath you as you rolled your hips against him. Carmy’s grip on your hips tightened at the sensation, “Please, baby.” he whined. You giggled at his response and slowly swirled your tongue around Carmy’s earlobe before leaning back on his thighs. Carmy leaned back into the couch. His eyes were dark with lust as you reached for the hem of your shirt, quickly discarding it. 
Carmy’s eyes widened at the sight of your bare breasts, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.” he muttered. You bit your lip as Carmy stared at you, “Can-can I-” Carmy began to stutter before you cut him off by bringing one of his hands to your chest. “Fuck.” Carmy laughed as he snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer. You giggled as Carmy massaged your breast in his large, calloused hand, “Baby- fuck, you’re so sexy.” 
You moaned softly as Carmy gently pushed you back onto the couch before trailing delicate kisses down your stomach to the top of your pajama shorts. As eager as he was to remove them, he still felt like he was dreaming. Your eyes met and you nodded, Carmy bit his lip holding back a groan. He swiftly yanked the soft cotton material down your legs to reveal your lack of panties. He smirked as he spread your legs wider and stared down at your core like a starved animal. 
“Carmy?” you asked softly, “Do you want me to stop?” he responded, hoping you would say ‘no.’ You shook your head, “Be gentle?” you whispered. Carmy nodded, “Of course, baby. Say, stop, and I will…” 
Carmy put your legs over his shoulders and nuzzled his face between your thighs, placing delicate kisses against your folds. Your legs shook as he ran his tongue up to your clit, “Mmm,” you hummed as he took your clit between his lips. “Oooh,” you moaned as Carmy slowly pushed his index finger into your entrance. Your reaction only fueled Carmy’s desire to please you. As your juices flooded his tastebuds, you bucked your hips up against his mouth, making him moan against your clit.
“I need you,” you whined, pulling at Carmy’s hair. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from your heat. “What do you need me to do, baby?” Carmy teased. You giggled as he moved to hover above your body. You pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. 
Carmy’s body tensed. You noticed the color drain from his face, the weight of his actions from the night prior finally hitting him. “Are you okay, Carmen?” you asked as you stopped pulling at his shirt. He nodded, “Yeah-h.” 
You didn’t believe him. “You’re being weird. I don’t care that you’re gross from work. I want you.” You looked into his eyes and could sense he was hiding something from you. “I’m not being weird,” he said defensively. You shook your head, pushed up at his chest, and sat up against the arm of the couch. “You literally left last night because I didn’t want to have sex- now I want you and you’re being fuckin’ weird. Take your clothees off and fuck me.” you demanded, Carmy swallowed and sat up on the couch. He shouldn’t have let it go this far, you rolled your eyes and yanked his shirt off. 
“What the fuck is that!” you screamed when you saw the dark purple hickey decorating his collar bone, Carmy stared at you nervously. “YOU FUCKIN’ LIAR!” you screamed louder pushing yourself off the couch picking up your T-shirt from the floor. 
“Baby, I swear—I didn’t—" Carmy explained as he scrambled to his feet as you walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. Your blood boiled at the thought of Carmy fucking another woman last night while he was ‘getting air,’ “YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD CARMEN!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you glared at him as tears started to fall from your eyes. Carmy’s face regained color and softened in reaction to your screams. 
“Y/N, it was a mistake! We didn't have sex because I couldn’t get hard-” Carmy attempted to explain the situation, and you shook your head in response. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit! Get out!” you screamed through your tears.
Carmy dropped to his knees and reached out for your hand. You slapped it away and ignored his begs to hear him out and let him explain what had happened. “No. No. I don’t want to- that’s why you wanted to fuckin’ shower so bad, right?! Didn’t want to fuck your wife with your dirty fuckin’ cock you fucking liar!” you screamed as you attempted to pull your wedding ring off of your finger. When it wouldn’t budge, you screamed in frustration and slammed the bedroom door. 
Carmy fell back and brought his knees to his chest, the weight of his actions truly hitting him when you had tried to take off your wedding ring. He really had ruined his marriage. Carmy heard your sobs through the door as he got up, “Y/N- it was a mistake. I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much-” 
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE CARMEN! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”
~
Tag List
@namjoons-crabssss @sl-ut @thottae @cuddlehye @prurose @1184p @chaoticfanficfanx @ok-boke @literatureluster @bxtchopolis @americanprometheuss @buckystwilight @earth-elemental18 @thebearlily @siren-melodies @thel0v3hashira143 @innercreationflower @unpoqu1todetodo @thehouseofevangelista
391 notes · View notes
lwwife · 3 months
Note
Hi, I read your first piece with Leah and really enjoyed it. I then saw you were asking for requests so figured I might as well give an idea I’ve had in my head. Basically its around Leah and a wealthy CEO/Buisnesswoman reader. Their relationship being loving but others seeing things in different ways. Where people/teammates end up assuming Y/n is a gold digger. Falsely accusing her of being such. I’d be curious to know what you think if this and see how it might play out if written.
Gold Digger
Tumblr media
Fluff, angst, suggestive
Word count: 1489
-
Leah’s pov:
“Mate, please I really don’t want to go, I mean what do they even need me for? Im a footballer not a stock broker!” I whined to my manager Tyra.
“Leah trust me, you’ll love it, the CEO of the company is a huge advocate for women and girls in sports, it’s the centre of tonight’s event, she does a lot more work than just holdings, she’s trying to bring women’s sport into each company the corporation owns to increase growth” I continue to stare at her, still questioning why I have to be there. Tyra sighs, “and, leah, having successful women attending events to show those companies just what women are capable of can help a lot.” She pauses waiting for my response. “She asked specifically for you Leah” I raised my eyebrows, “she did?”, “of course she did you nut, you’re Leah Williamson, you’ve just won the biggest tournament in Europe, now get a grip and go get dressed.” Tyra walks out of the hotel room, and I sigh, maybe it won’t be too bad, I mean I do enjoy advocacy events, hopefully it’s not full of stuck up old rich men, Tyra did say the CEO was a woman.
-
The event hasn’t been too bad so far, I’ve been introduced to a few really interesting people who seem genuinely interested in what I do, “and this, is y/n y/ln, the CEO of y/ln holdings” Tyra taps me and gestures to a woman stood next to her. I grab on to Tyra’s arm to stable myself, i genuinely think my knees were about to give out. Tyra side eyes me questioningly. 
“Leah! Hi, wow I’m so happy to meet you and so beyond grateful you were able to come tonight, you have no idea how much it means!” Y/n exclaims, offering her hand forward, I stand still, gobsmacked at the angelic woman stood infront of me, smiling brightly, praising me. Tyra shoves me “ow!” I turn to scowl her, she subtly gestures to y/n’s hand still waiting for mine to shake it. “Oh shit” I mumble and y/n laughs quietly, I quickly embrace her hand in mine and shake it. I look up at y/n and meet her eyes, my mouth opens slightly at the feeling of her hand in mine and her eyes staring through me, I feel something electric run through me, and by the look on her face I think she does too. “Well Leah why don’t we take advantage of your presence here and let’s have a drink, I’d love to hear your opinion on some of my ideas for women’s football.” She smiles gently. I nod and smile back “I’d love to” she pulls my hand that’s still clasped with hers and leads me to the bar.
-
@leahwilliamsonn
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Wow! What a night, thank you @y/ln.holdings ☺️
@y/ln.holdings: Thanks for coming Leah!
@user78930: ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS WOAH
@emilythompson76: Gorgeous!!
@bethmead_: 🔥🔥🔥
@keriawalsh: bloody lovely 
@alexscott2: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
@y/n_y/ln: Hope you enjoyed your night😉
“Really?” I turn to y/n who is slumped up in my bed, sheets covering her bare chest.
“What!? Did you enjoy your night?” She smirks and moves closer to me. 
“Mmmh it was okay” I smirk back
“Just okay huh? Well we’ll have to do something about that, can’t you having just an ‘okay’ night” 
“Oh yeah? What are we gonna have to do?” I question her, eyebrow raised
“Why don’t I show you” she whispers
-
Y/n’s pov: (2 months later)
“Ugh, for fucks sakes” I mumble, after getting my 175th email within the last 10 minutes. I run my hands through my hair and lean back in my chair, letting out a much needed breath when I hear a knock on the door. “Miss y/ln?” My assistant Emily peeks through the door, “yes Emily?” I say, slightly more aggressive than intended, “Leah is here to see you ma’am”, “oh Emily for gods sake how many times have I told you to just call me y/n?!” She looks down “sorry ma’am-I mean- uh”, “send her through please”, Emily nods and shuts the door. 
-
“I know darling” Leah assures as she softly massages my shoulders while I ramble about work.
“And it’s just non stop, Richard will not stop hassling me about the stocks and Ryan! Oh god don’t get me started on Ryan, I swear to go all he doe-“
“I want you to meet my friends” Leah cuts me off. I pause and spin in my chair to face her, “what?” I question, making sure I heard her right. “I said I want you to meet my friends, my teammates. You’ve become so important to me y/n, and I love you so much, you’ve met my family and I’d love for you to meet my friends as well, I want you to be able to know people if you ever get the chance to come to one of my games or bring you as a date to a team night, you know how much Arsenal and the team means to me, I want the two most important things in my life to know each other” she says, whispering the last sentence. 
I grin up at her brightly, “god how are you real?” I question her.
“I don’t know to be honest I’m pretty unreal aren’t I” she smiles cockily.
I slap her arm and stand up so we’re face to face, I grab the back of her neck “come here idiot”. 
-
Leah’s pov:
“Baby calm down it’s okay” I reach for y/n’s thigh and rub gently to stop her shaking. 
“No babe because what if they hate me, fuck”
“Darling girl listen to me, they’re not going to hate you, I love you, and they will too, so let’s go in there and let me show off my sexy, smart, bossy girlfriend” I smile at her.
“Okay.” She says and takes a deep breath.
I lean forward and capture her lips in a reassuring kiss, “I love you y/n”.
“I love you too my love, I just want the people that mean most to you to like me, I don’t want to lose you” she responds and I simply kiss her again, this time a little harder, fuelled with passion at her words.
-
“Leah all we’re saying is to be careful” Keira says, I look around at my friends, Alex, Beth, Katie, Lia, and Keira all staring at me, huddled in a corner, trying to convince me to be careful with y/n. 
“You guys don’t know anything about it why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“We are happy for you mate we just want to make sure you’re being cautious” Alex responds.
“Leah things are different for us now, we just won the Euro’s, you don’t know what people’s intentions are with you”
“Oh for fucks same would you lot give it a rest, I’m telling you right now y/n is not a gold digger! That wouldn’t even make any sense” I storm off to find my girl, “what?” I hear them question behind me.
-
“Come on darling, we’re going” I slide me hand around y/n’s waist.
“Why baby? Is everything okay?” She looks at me concerned. 
“No, my friends are being stuck up assholes, I just want to leave” 
“Okay baby we can leave” I pull her by the waist to lead us out of the pub.
“Leah wait!” I hear Lia call out after me, the rest of the girls following her, “we’re sorry we just want to look out for you”
“No you lot are being entitled twats, you don’t even know what y/n does for a living” y/n turns to me confused.
“What are you all talking about?” She asks.
“Well darling, my dear friends here are accusing you of being a gold digger” y/n laughs to herself in amazement but quickly stops when she realises I’m being serious. 
“Oh you’re serious?” She questions and turns to my friends.
They all look down.
“Y/n is the CEO of a company dickheads, she doesn’t like to boast but she was in Forbes’ millionaire list, her family has run a business for decades which she’s now taken over, so if anyone should be accused of gold digging here it’d make most sense that it was me.” I say to the girls, whose faces have all suddenly turned apologetic.
“We’re sorry Leah” they all say amongst each other.
“No, it’s y/n you should be apologising to” 
“You’re right” Beth says, “we are so sorry y/n, we didn’t even make an effort to get to know you, fuck honestly we are so sorry, can we please start fresh?” They all nod in agreement.
“It’s okay girls honestly you were just looking out for her, but to make it up to me you’re all gonna have to buy me a drink” she winks.
-
@y/n_y/ln
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A bunch of gold diggers
A/n: I loved this request! I hope I did it justice. If anyone has any feedback or anymore requests feel free to message, comment, or put in my asks! Hope you all enjoy :)
460 notes · View notes
afeelgoodblog · 3 months
Text
The Best News of Last Week - January 15, 2024
🎊 - As we embark on another journey around the sun, I am thrilled to bring you the first newsletter of the year, packed with inspiring, informative, and sometimes downright amusing stories.
1. Marijuana meets criteria for reclassification as lower-risk drug
Tumblr media
Marijuana has a lower potential for abuse than other drugs that are subjected to the same restrictions, with scientific support for its use as a medical treatment, researchers from the US Food and Drug Administration say in documents supporting its reclassification as a Schedule III substance.
2. South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade
Tumblr media
The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.
3. After 20 years in a tiny cage, these 'broken bears' are finally feeling the grass beneath their paws
Tumblr media
These bears, termed "broken bears" due to physical and psychological trauma from years of abuse, are treated at the Tam Dao rescue center with individually tailored diets, physiotherapy, and medical care. The bear bile trade, which involves extracting bile for traditional Asian medicine, has been illegal in Vietnam since 2005, but a black market still exists.
4. France just got its first openly gay prime minister.
Tumblr media
Gabriel Attal is France’s youngest-ever prime minister at age 34 and the first who is openly gay.
5. Australian ‘builders without borders’ repairing war-torn homes and schools in Ukraine
Tumblr media
Manfred Hin, a 66-year-old builder from Townsville, Australia, spent most of 2023 volunteering in Ukraine to rebuild homes and schools damaged by Russian attacks. Having contributed to over 50 house and a dozen school renovations, he worked with Ukrainian charity Brave to Rebuild, mentoring young volunteers and sourcing three tonnes of donated tools.
Inspired by Hin's story, Tasmanian carpenter Hamish Stirling also joined the efforts, learning Ukrainian, traveling to Europe, and volunteering for three months to help rebuild homes.
6. The age-standardized death rate from cancer has declined by 15% since 1990
Tumblr media
The age-standardized death rate from cancer declined by 15%
Cancer kills mostly older people – as the death rate by age shows, of those who are 70 years and older, 1% die from cancer every year. For people who are younger than 50, the cancer death rate is more than 40-times lower (more detail here).
7. Germany Reached 55% Renewable Energy in 2023
Tumblr media
In 2023, 55 percent of Germany’s power came from renewables — an increase of 6.6 percent, according to energy regulator Bundesnetzagentur, reported Reuters. Europe’s biggest national economy has a goal of 80 percent green energy by 2030.
---
That's it for this week :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.
500 notes · View notes