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sissylittlefeather · 1 year

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Anybody else love Tulsa McLean?

Home Sweet Oklahoma

A/N: This is a one-shot featuring one of my favorite Elvis movie characters from his 1960 movie GI Blues. I loooooove Tulsa and GI Blues for lots of reasons, but one of them is because I was born and raised in Oklahoma. I just couldn't help myself 😂. (Also please forgive any inaccuracies in my German, the geography, the time period, the military, etc. I did my best here.)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, and I think that's about it. It's pretty fluffy.

Word count: 6.3kish (I know it's long, but the backstory is important and it's a slow burn...)

When your father was transferred to Germany in 1956, the last thing you wanted to do was leave the states. You were just about to graduate from high school, so you argued and begged to be left behind. Of course, without a wedding ring on your finger, your father wasn't letting you live anywhere but where he was.

You never dreamed you'd love it here so much. Now, you've been here for four years and you've built a pretty good life. Still, sometimes you missed being back home. Not that you'd ever really had a place to call "home". Being a military brat wasn't easy and you'd never lived anywhere longer than 4 years at a time. Most places you only stayed 2, except for the stint in Colorado where your younger brother was born and the stint in Oklahoma where the twins were born. The time in Oklahoma was particularly memorable for you. You started 5th grade there and stayed until the summer before 9th grade. You were actually there long enough to make some good friends and experience your first dabbling in love. It was nothing serious, of course, but you'd never forget how he kissed you behind the swings at the park near your house. When you moved to North Carolina that summer, you were devastated.

Still, that was a long time ago, and living in Germany had changed you. You were a grown woman now, complete with a job singing in a night club. Your dad didn't love it, but being 22, you were more free to do as you pleased. And you typically did exactly that.

******

Tulsa, Cookie, and Rick were at the train station preparing for their transfer to Frankfurt. When they met the soldiers who just came from there, the first thing they wanted to know about was the girls. Where were the prettiest ones and what were they like? Rick was only concerned about one girl, Marla, who he had met and fallen in love with a year ago. Tulsa was ready to meet new ones and Cookie was along with him for the ride.

"There's only one dame to avoid." Turk warned.

"Avoid? That sounds like a challenge to me." Tulsa joked, his crooked smirk splayed across his face. He was the perfect combination of sexy and cute and he knew it. Girls didn't typically say no to him.

"You say that, but this dame is just mean. She's prettier than sin, but no man can get close to her. I'm telling you, don't waste your time."

"Well, now I'm really intrigued. Where do I find her?" Turk rolled his eyes at Tulsa's cockiness.

"She sings at the Cafe Amerikanisch."

"Amerikanisch? Is she--"

"American? Yes." Tulsa's eyes lit up. Picking up frauleins in a GI uniform was easy. A girl from back home would present a challenge worthy of his effort.

"Well, we'll see if I can't melt this ice queen." He looked at Cookie and wiggled his eyebrows. Turk scoffed. There was a whistle and everyone moved to board the train. As they walked away, Turk called out to Tulsa.

"Good luck! Her name is y/n!"

******

The Cafe Amerikanisch is owned by an American expat and is intended to serve as a haven for homesick soldiers and other Americans living and working in Germany. As an American singer, and a pretty good looking one at that, you are a perfect act for this particular club.

Tonight is a pretty normal Saturday for you as you sit in your dressing room waiting for it to be time for you to go on stage. Your shiny red dress is form-fitting with a dangerously high slit, but your legs are your best feature, so it doesn't bother you much. There's a knock on your door and someone lets you know you've got two minutes. You slip on your black heels and long black gloves and stand up, adjusting your hair in the mirror. The last thing you do is blow yourself a red-lipstick kiss for good luck and then make your way to the stage.

The band begins and you do your normal set, singing and flirting with the audience. You've just started your last song, a jazzy version of Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald, when you notice a group of American GIs come in and stand in the corner watching you. It's too dark for you to really see them, but your stomach drops and you have to actively stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Great, now you'll have to deal with them tonight.

You've learned from experience that the soldiers usually come in with one thing on their mind. For some reason, you seem to represent some kind of prize for them to win. You gave in once early in your career and fell in love head over heels just for him to disappear several months later. Since then, you've avoided these men like the plague and turned down, quite aggressively, every advance from one of them. It sounds arrogant to assume they're there for you, but it just always seems to be true. You don't intend on calling their bluff tonight or ever, really.

Seeing them standing in the corner sends up your defenses and you start to come up with reasons to go directly home after you finish singing. Finally, your set is done and you bow, smiling to the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. You head off the stage to your dressing room to change and get out of here. You're a little annoyed because you were hoping to stay and have a few drinks with some of the other girls in the show, but now you'll have to run home. Once you're back in your navy blue and white dress, you grab your coat and purse and make an attempt to leave. Several of the other girls stop you before you can get to the door, though, and you chat with them for a bit.

"Please get a drink with us, y/n!"

"No, I really need to go. I'm so tired."

"Just one? You always run out of here so quick."

"Alright, one drink. And then I have to go."

You let them lead you to a table, keeping your eyes on the group of GIs, waiting for them to try to approach you. You accidentally make eye contact with one of them and a bolt of recognition hits you. Why does he seem so familiar? No matter. You can ignore him, and his sweet blue eyes and perfect hair, the same way you've ignored all the others.

They stay put where they are, watching you, until after you get your drink. You're starting to think that maybe they'll leave you alone when you notice them making their way towards you. You down your drink in three gulps and say a quick goodbye to the girls. You stand up and almost run smack into the one with the blue eyes.

Between the alcohol and standing up so fast, you're a little dizzy and almost running into him knocks you off balance. He catches you with both hands on your upper arms before you fall.

"Whoa, honey, where are you headed so fast?" There's something about his accent that causes you to freeze. Who is he?

"Wait. Y/n?!" Your eyes scan up to his face and you try to place him. He's so familiar and he obviously knows you too.

"It's Tulsa! Tulsa McLean!" He steps back from you and gestures to himself.

Your heart stops.

"Oh my god. Tulsa..." Your hand goes to your mouth and you look up into his eyes.

You haven't seen him since you moved from Oklahoma 8 years ago. Your brain flashes back to holding his hand, going to the movies and getting hamburgers, and most of all, that kiss behind the swing set. You wrote letters back and forth for a while, but you lost contact once you both really got into high school. Now he's here, in front of you again.

"What are you doing here?" You ask. He points to his uniform.

"Isn't it obvious? What are you doing here?"

"My father..."

"He's here? I don't remember him liking me very much." He chuckles and looks around the club like your father might be right around the corner. You notice that the other soldiers are elbowing each other and laughing, like Tulsa has a real chance here and they're impressed. That makes your blood boil and you turn back to Tulsa coldly.

"Well, it's good to see you, but I really need to head home." He blinks, surprised by the change in your tone.

"Now wait a minute, can we go somewhere to talk?"

"No, I'm sorry. It's late. Goodnight." You turn and walk away. There's a pang in your heart as you do. You've missed him, a lot, but he's a soldier now. There's no way you can trust him. You swallow the lump in your throat as you walk out the door towards your house.

******

"Tulsa! We thought you were in for sure!" He and his group of friends make their way to a table to order some drinks.

"How do you know her?" He looks down at his beer when it comes, thinking about the time you spent together all those years ago. He hasn't stopped thinking about you in all that time.

"We went to school together for a while when we were kids." He's gotten unusually quiet and the guys look at each other in surprise.

"Isn't that a good thing? It'll make it easier, right?"

"Guys, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Aw, Tulsa, come on. You're our entertainment! You gotta prove to Turk that you can do it!"

"No, I'm done. I'm going to head back to the barracks. I'll see y'all later." He stands up and makes his way to the door. On his way out, he stops at the table of girls you had been sitting with.

"Hey, ladies. Do any of y'all know where I could find y/n?" The girls look at each other, hesitant to share your location with a soldier. Still, you live with your parents, so they figure your father will keep you safe if anything really bad happens. The girl that you're closest with, Maryann, tells him your address.

"Thank you. Truly." He flashes them a winning smile and heads for the door.

Cookie sees him walk out and turns back to the guys.

"Hey, fellas. I don't think this is over." They laugh and cheer. Your friends notice this and make a note to tell you later.

******

You're sitting in your room, brushing your hair and looking in the mirror, trying not to think about Tulsa. You've already gotten ready for bed, so you have on pajamas and your robe. It's really late and the rest of the house is asleep. The only lights on are in your small apartment over the garage. You live with your parents, but the house is large and you've got your own area with a bathroom and sitting room. Your father let you move over here when you started working at the club. This was the closest he would let you get to living on your own. Just as you put the brush down and go to get in your bed, you hear something hit your window. What on earth was that?

You ignore the sound and continue getting in bed. When you hear it again, though, you start to get nervous. You walk cautiously to the window and peek through your curtains at the street down below.

What the hell??

Tulsa is down there, throwing tiny rocks from the garden at your window.

How did he find you?!

When he sees you in the window, he waves like the 10-year-old he was when you met him. You open the window and call down as quietly as possible.

"Tulsa! What are you doing here?!"

"I need to talk to you!" He hollers.

"Shhhh! You're going to wake up my father. I'm coming down there." You look in the mirror quickly on your way down. Your pajamas will have to do, since you don't want to take the time to get dressed. And your hair is down around your shoulders, unfixed. But it's just Tulsa. He saw you in junior high; this can't be worse than that.

You tiptoe down the stairs and open the front door as quietly as possible. You pull your robe tighter around yourself and step out into the chilly night air, dragging the door closed softly behind you.

"What? Talk fast. I'm freezing."

"Maybe we should go inside?"

"Nice try, soldier. I'll be okay. Just talk."

"Well, I hadn't really thought of what I was going to say. I just needed to see you again." He smiles sheepishly.

"Tulsa. Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure." You scoff and start to go back inside. He grabs your arm lightly to stop you and his touch sends shockwaves through your body.

"No! Wait! I just... I haven't ever stopped thinking about you..."

"That was a long time ago, Tuls..."

"Have dinner with me." You shake your head no. "Please, Birdie..." Your eyes snap up to his. He called you by the nickname he made up for you back then, when you used to sing while he played the guitar. You can hear his junior high voice, "You're just like a little songbird. My very own Birdie."

"Just dinner?" You can feel yourself melting a bit and it bothers you.

"Yes. I promise."

"Pick me up tomorrow at 8." He nods excitedly and you turn to go back inside. You really hope you don't regret this.

******

Tulsa watches you walk back up to the house. He's still a little in shock that you said yes. He also can't believe what a beautiful woman you've become. He knew you were cute, but this is something entirely different. As he turns to go back to the barracks, his mind wanders to the way you looked in your red dress. It hugged every curve perfectly and your leg was peeking out through the slit. He longed to see both of your legs without the skirt in the way. And then you came downstairs in your pajamas and were somehow even more beautiful with your hair falling down around your shoulders. He imagines taking your robe off and running his hands up and under your silky pajamas. When he realizes how aroused he is, he decides to get a cab so he can sit down and not be wandering the streets of Frankfurt with a blatantly obvious erection.

Back at the barracks, he's the first one home for the night. He figures the other guys are still out at the club. His mind wanders back to you in the red dress and what it might look like on the floor of this room. Before he knows it, he's turned on again and he decides to do something pretty risky. He pulls his army-issue blanket over his lap and frees his painfully hard dick from his pants. As he touches himself, he imagines what your small, soft hands might feel like on him. The possibility drives him insane as he begins to stroke himself faster and faster. Then, he thinks of your beautiful red lips wrapped around him and he moans softly. He knows he probably doesn't have much time before the other guys come home, so he continues to move his hand up and down, moving his foreskin back and forth, the friction making his hips buck into his hand. His mind stays focused on you and your curves as he imagines holding your hips and pounding into you, first from behind and then with you on top so he can watch your breasts as they bounce with his motions. The image is almost overwhelming and he feels his release building. Finally, when he pictures the face you make when he gives you an orgasm, he comes hard, moaning your name with a string of cuss words.

His blanket is ruined, so he uses it to clean himself up quickly and then tosses it in his laundry. He's breathing heavily, a little embarrassed at having just gotten himself off to the thought of you, when he hears the guys coming down the hallway. He tries to slow his heart rate and gets ready for bed, laying down just as the door opens.

"Hey Tulsa! You missed a helluva night! You shoulda seen this girl Cookie was talking to!" He rolls over pretends like they woke him up.

"How'd it go with your girl?" They all look at him expectantly.

"Oh, well, uh, we're having dinner tomorrow night." They whoop and holler, the amount of beer they had becoming obvious.

"We knew you'd get her! Nothing like a connection from the past to get a girl to go weak in the knees for ya!" Tulsa frowns.

"It's not like that, fellas." He tries not to think about what he just pictured you doing. "We're old friends. That's all. Now let me go back to sleep." He rolls back over as they continue talking and laughing. He tries to go to sleep, but he can't stop imagining you curled up next to him in your silk pajamas.

******

You're standing in front of your house in your favorite pink dress when Tulsa pulls up in a cab. You forgot that he wouldn't have a car, since he's a soldier. He hops out and opens the door for you, but you shake your head.

"We'll take my car." He pays the cab driver and follows you to your BMW convertible. His mouth pops open when he realizes it's yours.

"Nightclub business must be good." He jokes. You remember how much he loves cars and toss him the keys.

"I don't really feel like driving tonight." His eyes light up and you can't stop yourself from smiling. He really is an attractive man. This might be harder than you thought.

You guide him to a restaurant, where he parks and runs to your side of the car to open the door for you. He still has his southern manners. Once you get to the table, you both relax a bit and it feels more like the two of you used to be, talking and laughing easily.

"And how's your mama? She was always so sweet to me." You ask, taking a bite of your food.

"That's because she loved you! Always said you were too good for me. She was probably right." He looks at you shyly. "But, she's good! She and Daddy still live in the same house. I haven't seen them in almost 2 years." He gets a little somber and you can tell he must be homesick.

"Are you almost finished with your tour?"

"I've got three months here in Frankfurt and then I'm free. I can't wait to get back to the states." You look down at your plate. He's going to disappear in three months. Don't get attached.

"What about you? Will you be headed stateside any time soon?"

"No, my father is about to retire, but he wants to stay here. And even if he left, I'd probably try to stay. I like it here and I don't really have a home in the US. Not like you do."

"You could always come back to Oklahoma." He cuts himself off before he says "with me." You look up at him, noticing that it seems like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he changes the subject to talk about your singing career. He tells you he has formed a group with some of the guys and has been performing whenever they get a chance. He also tells you about how they want to open a nightclub when they get home.

"See, you could come sing in our club! Be our main act!" You know he's joking, but there's an edge of seriousness to him that makes you wonder.

You continue to talk and laugh through the rest of dinner and it feels good to be with him, like he brings out a part of you that you forgot exists. A happy, hopeful, youthful part of you that's been buried since you had your heart broken.

You sit together at dinner for a long time after you finish eating and even when you can't sit there any longer, you're still not ready to be away from him. He suggests a drink somewhere and you agree with a swiftness that you fear gives you away.

You like him. A lot.

He's still the sweet, funny boy you loved so long ago, just in the body of this charming and devilishly handsome man.

You decide to take him back to the Amerikanisch for drinks. It's familiar and you know everyone that works there. You sit at your table together and continue your conversation from before. At one point, he says something really funny and you put your hand on his on the table. He stops laughing and looks at you longingly. You let him take your hand and hold it, running his thumb over your knuckles softly. Your heart beats faster and you start to wish that you were somewhere other than a crowded club so he could kiss you if he wanted to. And something tells you that he wants to. The spell is broken, though, when his friends come in and see you together. He gets up to take them to a different table.

"I'll be right back, Birdie." He uses your nickname again and you wish it didn't make you melt all over again.

As soon as he's gone, Maryann joins you at your table.

"You need to watch out for that one."

"For Tulsa? No, I've known him for a long time. He's not that kind of guy."

"Yeah, well, his buddies sure think he is." She tells you about what she and the other girls noticed last night.

"Just be careful, okay? I'd hate to see you become some kind of trophy for him." You nod and look over at him at the table with the other soldiers. You can't let yourself forget he's one of them.

******

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We had a feeling you'd be here with y/n and we wanted to come check on your progress. And even if you weren't, Cookie wanted to come see his waitress."

"Check my progress? I told y'all that's not what this is. You're about to ruin the whole thing." Tulsa raises his voice slightly to let them know he's serious. Cookie's waitress comes by and he disappears to follow her to the bar. The rest of the guys agree to back off, so Tulsa makes his way back over to you. There's another girl sitting with you, though, and he recognizes her as the one who gave him your address.

"Thanks again for helping me find her...?"

"Maryann. Nice to meet you. I've been hearing a lot about you in the last ten minutes." She stands up and lets him sit back down. As she walks away, she gestures to you that she's watching.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, nothing really. She just worries about me since..." You trail off, not really wanting to talk about why.

"Since what?"

"Since Mike." Tulsa looks uncomfortable and brings his eyebrows together in a frown.

"Who is Mike?" You don't want to, but you feel safe with Tulsa, so you tell him the whole story. How you let him take you out, let him convince you to fall in love with him, let him make you believe he wanted to marry you, let him have you. When you get to the last part, Tulsa looks away from you, obviously affected. The thought of you with another man makes him sick to his stomach. The thought of that man hurting you fills him with rage. He suddenly wishes Mike was around, so he could punch him in the face and then take you in his arms and protect you.

"That's why you don't trust soldiers." You nod, not wanting to let the tears that have gathered in your eyes find a way to fall. He's dying to put his arm around you and comfort you. He wants to wipe the tears from your eyes and make sure you never cry again. But you're still in the middle of a crowded club.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks, trying to sound as genuine as possible. You look over to his table of friends hesitantly. He looks down at his hands, frustrated by the fact that they've made you nervous. He'd give anything not to be wearing this stupid uniform right now.

"Yes." He looks up at you, pleasantly surprised. You decide to trust him, despite everything. He stands up and puts his hand out for you to take, so you grab your coat and wrap your fingers through his. At your touch, his heart skips a beat. This might be more than just rekindling a friendship.

******

When you get outside the club, the cold wind hits you and you shiver. Tulsa puts his arm around you, and you let him, warmth spreading through you.

The only place you can think of to go is back to your house. You recognize that this might send the wrong message, but you're not exactly sure that is the wrong message at this point.

Once you're in the car, Tulsa asks where you want to go.

"Home."

"Oh. Okay." He thinks you mean without him. You scoot close to him in the front seat and put your head on his shoulder.

"I want you to come with me." He tries to hide his excitement and fails, but instead of being annoyed, you think it's really cute. He puts the car in drive and you make your way back to your house.

Thankfully, the house is dark when you get there. You weren't looking forward to explaining to your father why Tulsa was coming upstairs with you. Instead, you both take off your shoes and walk as quietly as possible until you reach the safety of your apartment.

As soon as you close your bedroom door, you both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. You're grown adults sneaking around like teenagers. He sets his hat down on your dresser while you take your coat off. You stand there for a while, staring at each other in silence. Then, slowly, carefully, he reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek, brushing it softly with his thumb. You close your eyes and lean into his palm. Your heart is beating so fast and your eyes flutter open to meet his blue ones. They're soft and calm, like the ocean on a still day. As he leans in, your fingers begin to tingle. When his soft lips finally meet yours, a tidal wave of desire washes over you and you're filled with a need for him to touch every inch of you. The same wave seems to hit him as well because he moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling your hips in close to him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your lips part and he slides his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours. You feel your body heat up as he presses against you, kissing you passionately.

After a few minutes of being locked together like this, he pulls back from your lips and looks into your eyes again.

"Is this really what you want, Birdie? I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything." You think for a second. If this continues, you know you won't be able to stop yourself from falling for him. But do you want to stop? Tulsa isn't like the others. He knows you. And even if he is leaving in a few months, you've found each other once before. Who's to say you won't do it again? You're ready to stop being scared. And three months with him sounds better than a lifetime with Mike.

"Yes, this is what I want. You are what I want, Tulsa." He dives back into the kiss and never looks back. You walk backwards towards your bed, pulling his tie off and starting to unbutton his shirt. He finishes your work and drops it on the floor, his lips never moving from yours. His hands move to the back of your dress, finding the zipper and carefully pulling it down to the small of your back. As he runs his hands back up to your shoulders, his fingers graze the skin that was under your dress and the electricity is palpable. You wiggle your shoulders as he slides the top half of your dress off. He kisses down your neck to your shoulder and each place he presses his lips burns with a newfound heat. You push your dress down over your hips and let it fall to the floor with his shirt. He slides the tips of his fingers under your slip and pushes it down too. Then, he pulls back and looks at you standing there in your garter belt, hose, bra, and panties.

"Wow." You blush a little with his burning gaze moving up and down your body and move to cover yourself with your hands.

"You don't have to hide from me, baby." He gently moves your hands away from you and you start to feel more comfortable. His presence is comforting, even as you stand there nearly naked. You take a moment to look down his body, running your hands from his shoulders down to the waistline of his pants. That's when you notice that his dick is hard, pressing against the fabric of his pants dramatically. You look up into his eyes and he looks away and clears his throat like he's embarrassed. You put one hand on his cheek and softly move his face back to making eye contact with you. Then you take your other hand and touch him over his pants, rubbing up and down his dick carefully.

"Mmm." His eyes close and his hips buck forward into your hand. He is desperate for your touch, just as you are for his. He moves his hands up and down your sides and then finds the back of your garter belt with his fingers. He undoes the hooks and then sits you down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down in front of you, he slowly unclips your hose and drops the belt to the floor. Then, he gently rolls your hose down each of your legs, lifting each ankle to his lips and pressing a kiss there. He kisses each of your knees and then pushes them apart to kiss the inside of each thigh. As he gets closer and closer to your center, you feel your arousal begin to gather in your panties. He stops before he gets there, though, and stands up. You lean forward and unbutton his pants.

"Wait, honey." He puts his hands on yours and stands there looking down at you, breathing heavily. He wants to savor this moment with you. He's been with women before, but something about this feels like another kind of first time. It's a little overwhelming and he wants to make sure it doesn't move too quickly. He looks at you sitting there in just your bra and panties. You might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Even his imagination didn't do you justice. Is this what it feels like to be in love?

"Should I... should I put on pajamas or something?" You look around the room, assuming something about you must have turned him off, despite his continuing erection. He sits next to you on the bed.

"Oh, no, honey--"

"You don't like me?" You look at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't realize it mattered to you so much, but now you know. You so desperately want him to want you, to like you, to love you the way you've realized you've always loved him.

"Don't like you?! Baby, I-I... well... to hell with it... I love you." Your eyes snap up to meet his.

"Y-you do?"

"Aw, hell. Yes, y/n I do. I always have." He searches your face for some kind of reassurance that he's not alone in this.

"I love you too..." you whisper it, but it's enough for him. He puts his hands on your face and pulls you into a deep kiss. He lays you back on the bed, running his hand down your body. He kisses down your neck, whispering "I love you" in between each kiss. His hand makes its way to your center and he moves your panties to the side, sliding his finger up your slit to the place that makes your back arch and a moan escape your lips. He smiles at how easily you come undone in his hands. After a few second of this, he slips one finger into you and then two. The feeling of some part of him inside you is enough to drive you to the edge. He sits up on his knees and slides your panties down and off. Then he climbs in between your legs and pushes his fingers back into you, moving them in and out rhythmically. You're overcome by the sensation of his hands on you and the intense emotions that are running through you. He loves you. But more importantly, you love him. Everything physical that's happening is just an expression of that and you never want it to end. Just as you think you're going to lose control, he lowers his mouth onto you and adds his tongue to the movements he's already making. You gasp and it doesn't take long for your orgasm to build up and crash over you like waves on a beach, over and over again out to the edges of your body and back again.

"Oh, yes, Tulsa!" You cry out as you shudder and pulse around his fingers. He sits up on his knees and finally lets you undo his pants, kicking them and his underwear off quickly. He unhooks your bra and literally throws it to the side. Now, it's like he can't move fast enough. He needs to be inside you as soon as possible. You help him with this task, lining him up with your entrance before he pushes into you hard and deep.

"Oh shit." He moans. "You feel so good, Birdie." When he uses your nickname again you whimper and kiss his neck. He begins to pump in and out of you and both of you begin to sweat. You feel him inside you, hitting all of your most sensitive places. The rhythm he keeps is not too fast or too slow, his hips pressing into yours and driving him deeper inside you. You can't believe how good he feels like this. But you want to repay him for the pleasure he gave you at the start, so you push him off of you and lay him on his back next to you. He follows directions easily, waiting patiently for you to straddle him and lower yourself onto him. Groaning with the change in sensation of having you on top of him, he reaches up and cups both of your breasts while you bounce. The picture that you make, sitting there on top of him, drives him absolutely crazy.

"God, you're beautiful." He moves his hands to your hips and starts to thrust into you deeply. You roll your hips to meet his over and over, your hands on his chest. His eyes roll back and close as his mouth is opened partially. The look of pleasure that he has makes you want to keep doing this forever. His arousal fuels your own as you continue to grind against him.

"Yes, don't stop!" You moan again as another orgasm builds inside you, starting in your abdomen and spreading through your legs.

"I'm gonna come, baby." He opens his eyes and tries to watch the expression on your face, but he's overwhelmed by his own ecstatic pleasure as you reach your climax together. You feel his warmth inside you and know it's risky, but you don't care. In that moment, the only thing that matters is you and him together, bodies intertwined and breathing heavily, your skin pressed against his. You lay on his chest and he wraps his arms around you and kisses your hair.

"Birdie, that was..."

"...everything." You look up at him from your position on his chest. You've never felt anything like this before, emotionally or physically. You gently run your fingertip down the line of his nose and he grabs your fingers and kisses them. The intimacy between you goes beyond the simplicity of sex. You belong to each other.

Eventually, you get up to go to the bathroom, thinking about everything that just happened. It seems like fate that you would run into each other again. And after what just happened, you don't ever want to let him go.

When you get back to the bedroom, he gestures for you to come lay beside him. He's under the covers now; it looks like he doesn't want to go anywhere either. It's fine by you that he stays. You wish he could stay forever. That's when you remember that he's leaving in 3 months.

"Tulsa, what are we gonna do?"

"About what, honey?"

"You're only here for a little while." You crawl into the bed and snuggle up against him. He's not worried about anything, though. In his mind, he's going to buy a ring tomorrow.

"Come back to Oklahoma with me." He says it matter-of-factly. You think about what that would mean, leaving your job and your friends and your family behind. But you've moved so many times before. And this time, you wouldn't be moving away from somewhere, you'd be moving towards a home with him.

"Okay. I'll go home with you. I'm not sure how my father will feel about me moving without--"

"--a ring on your finger? Let me worry about that part." He makes his crooked smirk-smile and you kiss his cheek.

"I trust you..."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I wasn't sure if anyone would want to be tagged, since this is technically not an Elvis fic...

#tulsa mclean #gi blues #Tulsa mclean smut #Tulsa McLean fanfiction #Gi blues fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis movies #Elvis movies fanfiction #60s elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis fanfic

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hiskillingjar · 2 years

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The German Stare

Relationship: Strade/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Consensual Bondage, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Masturbation Length: 1700+ words

Summary: "In Germany, intense eye contact is a daily occurrence – to such an extent that expats and visitors have dubbed it The German Stare." AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42198930

"You're not very good at keeping eye contact, are you?"

You were halfway into your second drink (you had insisted on buying the next round and he didn't protest) when Strade broke up the idle small talk with his observation, a quirked, almost teasing smile on his face, like he was telling a good joke.

Your own face went red as you, ironically, immediately looked down at your clasped hands around your beer bottle.

"Oh, I'm not?" You said casually, offhandedly, attempting to shake his comment off as if you'd never been told that before. As if it was entirely new information that hadn’t been repeated by teachers and guidance counselors.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled around his own beer bottle as he took another drink. "Your eyes go all over the place. Up, down, to the side, down again!" He laughed, not unkindly, and rested an elbow on the bar, his cheek against his loose fist. Still staring you down so casually, like his very gaze didn't burn a hole in your core and make your entire body on edge and alert. "Anywhere but my eyes. Why is that?"

Your mouth went dry. He kept staring.

"I guess it's a little intimidating. And kind of intimate, ya know." You admitted with a shrug and an awkward-sounding chuckle, tapping your fingernails against the beer bottle and tearing at the label (a restless habit to stop the rest of your body from fidgeting). "And I'm not really used to, um..." You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, still not willing to turn entirely and meet his unrelenting stare. "Speaking so intimately with people I just met, I suppose."

That was the best explanation you could manage.

You thought it best not to recite the DSM-5 to a potential first date.

"Aw. It’s sweet that it’s so intimate to you." The teasing smile came to his lips again, and his eyes softened with endearment (and what you would now recognize as poorly concealed lust and sadistic intrigue). "Though it does hurt my feelings a little that you’re not comfortable being intimate with me yet. How about we give it a try together?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, it'll be good for you!" He insisted enthusiastically, sitting forward in his bar seat, bringing his body closer to yours. Still staring. "Think of it like a drinking game, ja? You just have to keep your eyes on mine to win."

You attempted to swallow past your dry mouth.

"...Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of intense?"

“All the time.” He said with a charming laugh that made his nose scrunch endearingly and his smile lines dimple. “But I'm sure you can do it if you try." Any teasing quality to his smile turned into one that beamed with pride and encouragement, and you couldn't deny that you felt more inclined to listen to him.

Without another word of rebuttal, you nodded your head reluctantly.

“Brav hund.” He said with a satisfied nod (you didn’t know what he said, and didn’t think to ask), before he held up two fingers (his fingernails were slightly grubby, you noticed, but you didn’t mind at the time) and gestured them towards his eyes.

Compelled by the game, you finally met them with your own.

They were warm and inviting, the color and sticky depth of honey, and shined with a kind of peculiar intrigue that was typically reserved for school boys up to no good.

The corners of them crinkled handsomely as they shined even brighter.

"Just keep your eyes..."

"On me."

The whirling drill bit was pressed deep into your thigh, spitting out a splutter of blood and shredded muscle as it relentlessly span inside you, tearing skin and flesh.

You didn't even try to suppress the sound that lurched from your throat, the scream, the wretched wail of agony that barely sounded human, as your body involuntarily folded in on itself, straining against ropes and zip ties. As if you were trying to shy away from the pain and contain it within yourself, despite the petering sobs that were now tumbling from your lips as the drill continued to whir deeper and deeper.

“Stop, stop, stop, please!” You screamed as a vicious spasm wracked through your body, shaking the chair that you were bound to.

You thought you were going to be sick when you heard the splintering crunch of bone and felt a similarly splintering ricochet of pain shooting through every nerve as if you were on fire.

"Wow, it’s like you're not even trying!"

Strade yanked the still spinning drill bit from your thigh, wrenching out more shredded muscle and another pained shriek and string of desperate sobs from your lips.

“It’s really not that hard to keep eye contact with someone, you know.” He said, rolling his eyes and giving the drill a few idle spins to dislodge the cartilage from its groves (making you heave as you saw it fall and crumble at his feet). “It’s actually kind of rude that you won’t. It’s a sign of respect.”

You could barely hear what he was saying, the pain in your thigh was so intense. Your head drooped down heavily between your legs, straining at your bonds, as you tried to steady your breathing and make the pain subside, even slightly.

“Even now…”

Crossing the basement with a short sigh, as if he had a reason to be irritated or annoyed with you, he then pressed the fingers of his free hand into your tangling, sweat-drenched hair and wrenched your head up forcefully, painfully, forcing you to make eye contact with him again.

"Hey buddy," He said, his voice a teasing lilt, a dangerously amused smirk spreading on his face as he brought it closer to your own (that was flushed red and sticky with tears, snot, and spittle down your chin). "You're not listening to me, are you?"

"Please, I-I’ll pay you anything..." You mumbled, trying to pull away from his grasp (or at the very least, lessen the pain just a little, though you only succeeded in making him pull tighter. "Please let me go."

"Come on, don't give up on me so soon!" Strade said almost cheerfully, completely ignoring what you had said, though his grip on your hair was unrelenting. "Oh, what a letdown. You know, I really thought so highly of you back at the bar.” His other hand, the one still clutching the drill, rested on your opposite thigh, the heavy battery weighing down on your weak frame. “I thought 'yes, this one won't break on me as quickly as the others have. This one will be a, uh, a keeper!'"

He tilted his head, his eyes slightly narrowed.

Still staring down at you, like he was examining a medical specimen underneath him.

Though if you knew his type, and you generally did, that was probably nothing medical about any sort of invasive examination he had planned.

"Was I wrong, liebling?” He asked, his voice dangerously quiet as the drill on your thigh turned and the metal bit was pressed threateningly into your other thigh. “Are you already broken?"

You attempted to swallow past your dry mouth in lieu of a spoken answer, your lip quivering as you fought hard to keep your eyes on his, the still drill bit a looming threat as it pressed deeper into your flesh.

You shook your head curtly. You weren't broken, not yet.

"Good." He praised. "Now, how about we try again with something new, then?" He then offered, a slow grin coming to his face, suddenly removing the drill from your leg and raising it to your eye level. He even gave it a little wave, like he was joking around and playing a prank on you. "If I promise to put the drill away, hm?"

You blinked wide eyes at him, waiting for him to laugh, take back what he said, and start up the sick cycle of pain again.

It took a moment for you to find the nerve to speak.

"Y-You promise?" You murmured, cringing inwardly at how small and helpless your voice sounded.

"Promise." He replied with a nod.

When you nodded back at him, he let out a short, satisfied chuckle and stepped away from your bound body to place the drill back on the workbench. When you looked closely, you noticed that a trickle of blood, your blood, had run down the hard, yellow plastic and was now pooling on the wood.

You wanted to be sick, but you wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction of it.

"Brav hund," He said, repeating what he had said in the bar, before he approached you again, giving you a few affectionate taps on the cheek before pressing his hand in your hair again. Though this time he allowed you to keep your gaze down instead of forcing it up to meet his eyes again, granting you that small, merciful relief for just a moment. "I knew you'd make the right decision."

His free hand then went down to the crotch of his trousers, pale khaki slacks that were now speckled with a splutter of blood, and unzipped them.

He wasn’t wearing underwear (god, he wasn’t wearing underwear), so you could immediately see that his thick cock, nestled beneath a dark patch of hair, was hard and straining underneath his trousers, and he gripped it loosely with a short grunt of pleasure. When you quickly looked back up at him, your eyes wide and disbelieving, he was still staring you down, his gaze hazy and lecherous, a sick grin on his face and his tongue between his teeth as he loosely jerked himself off in front of you.

“Keep your eyes on me now, then.” He said finally, his voice already husky and low with subdued pleasure. “And if you can’t, I’ll put that drill,” He nodded to the workbench, before idly tapping the space between your eyebrows with the tip of his thumb. “Between them. Du verstehst, ja?”

Once again, lost for words, all you could manage was a few quick nods that he laughed unkindly at before he kept going.

Never stopping, never stalling or hesitating.

Always staring.

#boyfriend to death #btd #strade btd #strade x reader #ray's fics #found out about the german stare and i've been thinking about it for weeks #anyway #i'm normal #i'm not normal at all why did i say that

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onwriting-hrarby · 1 year

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i didn't realize i was being flirted with and the guy didn't speak my language - on speaking a minority language

hey folks, i hope you're fine! this week i have been going into cafés and bookshops and trying to tackle a little bit of writing. i always seem to flow better at those spaces, when i'm not home, as if my time was somehow more restricted and i had to make it worth it.

something happened on one of my outings, though. aside of not being able to write because a guy wanted to talk to me (and at that time, i thought he really wanted to talk to me. only when i explained it to other people i realized he might be flirting, which is sad, because we talked about writing and literature and it might have all been a bluff... anyways. i gave him my email and instagram cause i thought he was genuine but now i'm hesitant to answer, truly. i am so naive. look, i haven't been flirted with for 13 years. i don't realize these things.), this same guy was working on the café i was on. and so i approached and asked him, in my language: could you watch my bag while i go to the toilet?

and he looked at me, almost glaring, took out one of his buds from his ear, and said: "ENGLISH?"

Like, not even a "please". Not even "I don't understand". He requested English just like this. Just like... it was easy.

Some of you may know that I speak a minority language in a country that has TWO official languages: mine and Spanish. Not English, mind you. We know English because we learn it at school, same as fucking French.

Thing is: We can't speak our minority language anymore. I mean, we can, but people don't understand us. The policy of coming to our country is that everyoen is free to come (and everyone is! thank god for that) but that means that people learns the bigger language, which is Spanish. And, look, I mean, I could understand that. Maybe it's ignorance, maybe it's because it's easier, and a lot of people already know Spanish when they come, so why do they care about learning for a smaller language? (Well, then they'll record videos saying that we are not welcoming, that it's difficult to have relationships or friendships with people... I mean... You're forcing me to change my language but.) The thing is: Waiters don't understand us, people from shops, in the fUCKING DOCTOR i can't speak my language. And I'm not bilingual. I don't have the same ability with one language or another, because I speak my native tongue much more than I do Spanish. When I go to therapy, I need to ask beforehand if they speak my language.

Anyway, the thing is WE ARE LOSING OUR LANGUAGE and people that come here don't really care about it. Okay, globalisation, capitalisation, economisation.Fucking whatever.

But we have been living an age when there's also a lot of expats. And I mean A LOT. And they all use English as a common language and that's so... DISRESPECTFUL. Learn the fucking language of the country you're going to. They do this in all the countries they go, though. I get angry when Spanish people don't learn my language, because they would fucking learn portuguese if they went to Portugal, right? Or Germany. But Spanish is an official language, so I can understand their reasons. But to pressupose that people know English EVERYWHERE in the world... it's another level. It's so fucking disrespectful.

Honestly, I don't know why I engaged in conversation with him. He had just moved here (no knowledge of nothing, not even the neighbourhoods in the city. He wanted the experience. Okay) and I found him interesting because I always find people interesting. But I should have told him: NO ENGLISH. NO FUCKING ENGLISH. I'M NOT ENGAGING IN SOMEONE WHO MOVES BUT DOESN'T CARE TO LEARN MY LANGUAGE.

I've had enough. So disrespectful.

#I had to vent.

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essayofthoughts · 2 years

Note

Would Percy be considered a Norseman in the real world, or is he more Slavic? I remember Taliesin mention that his original idea for Percy was just a clockmaker in Northern Europe. Does that make Whitestone… someplace like Denmark then? I want to say someplace like the UK because of the accent, but I’m not sure… To me, his name seems more Germanic/French/Polish than anything.

Norse is a very specific time period my dude, you probably mean Scandinavian. And the answer is no.

Taliesin seems to have taken snippets from everywhere, and I generally go with the accent and think of him as British. Given Whitestone was founded by Wildemount folk originally - who Matt gave a Prussian influence to - it actually kind of fits. A lot of British nobles have French and German blood, and the royal family has a good chunk of German to them.

Percy's name is a mix because Taliesin took it, iirc, from anime characters he'd worked on the dubs for. Percival is French and British (Arthuriana), Fredrickstein would be German (Frederick is German iirc, and stein is German for ... I want to say stone but it's been years since I studied it.) "von" is German and means "of" when used in naming - so-and-so of such-and-such, be that place or family. Klossowski is pronounced by Taliesin as Kowalski which I believe would make it Polish, "de Rolo" is I think then an older French influence. Might be wrong. Given the Wildemount origins of the family and of Whitestone, it seems to me they're more a riff on Prussian, especially German, Austro-Hungarian, and Polish nobility, not anything further north. The clock Percy builds Taliesin has said is a riff on the one in Prague, which is in the Czech Republic and landlocked between Germany, Austria and Poland.

I go with English for Percy because 1. That accent; we have decidedly non-British and non-American accents throughout the Campaigns, including Campaign 1, which suggests it's intended as Percy's natural diction. 2. If Wildemount is fantasy Prussia and Slavic influences and Whitestone was then founded by Wildemount expats: *looks at the Saxons of Saxony, which is part of Germany, arriving in and thereafter influencing England* *looks at Britain's royal family which is largely German in extraction* 3. I am British, so I feel most comfortable using that point of reference, and 4. Taliesin explained Percy's "we didn't touch in my family" line as being about the particular social codes around familial affection in noble Prussian families (iirc at least) and those codes of behaviour were also strongly seen in Victorian British codes of behaviour ("children should be seen and not heard") and iirc Kaiser Wilhelm's mother was discouraged from being too affectionate with her young son by Queen Victoria.

Tl;dr: I find ample evidence for this interpretation and if not this you'd probably want to lean more Germanic.

If you do want an argument for a more Scandinavian interpretation - gun comes (via a crossbow named Gunilda) from gunnhildr (meaning "war, battle") ... but the hildr part also means "battle" and is also seen in German; you can easily argue cultural overlap if you wish.

And lastly... just because the character’s original concept was a clockmaker from Northern Europe, that hardly means it’s still relevant. In Critical Role, Percy is the inventor of guns as much as a clockmaker; the whole setting is different. There are times when the originating ideas are indicative, but no longer helpful.

#percy de rolo #fic things #cr meta #critrole meta #vox machina #living up to my username #ask #anonymous

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redbus2germany · 2 years

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Moving To Germany – Part 1

We know that you want to move to Germany. There are a lot of people who follow their desire to move to Germany for many reasons. These reasons could be anything like pursuing love, living in a place with a higher quality of life, getting a benefit of a unique education system, and getting an education without paying thousands of euros in tuition fees. It also could discover a new culture.

Table of Content

Eight Things To Prepare Before Moving To Germany

Find a Job or Get a German University Enrollment

Get Health Insurance

Apply For Visa On Time

Book Your Flight Tickets In Advance

Find A Place To Live In Germany

Get An Appointment To Register

Look For Which Bank You Want To Use

Start Learning The Basic German Language

Eight Things To Prepare Before Moving To Germany

You must be thinking about how you can make this happen. In this article, we will talk about eight steps that explain how to move to Germany as a foreigner. You will get eight things to take care of before moving to Germany.

Find a Job or Get a German University Enrollment

The best way to prepare for your move to Germany is to find a job or enroll at a German university. It depends on your nationality; however, it is the most hassle-free way for you to move and stay legally in Germany.

Foreigners moving to Germany from other EU countries such as Canada, the US, New Zealand, Australia, Israel, Japan, or the Republic of Korea, may visit Germany as a tourist and start job hunting. Later they can apply for a work and residence permit from within Germany.

The expats who hold a different nationality except the ones listed above can apply for the job seeker visa. It allows you to stay six months in Germany to find a job.

The people who are graduates and skilled professionals from Non-EU countries may apply for the blue card visa in Germany. The blue card is a quick entrance to Germany and the EU and a work permit for up to four years.

Get Health Insurance

One primary requirement to get a German visa is to opt for health insurance the German government accepts. You can sign up for German health insurance if you already have a job.

Suppose you are planning to find a job after arriving in Germany or want to work as a freelancer. Then you can opt for expat health insurance for your visa. It works as temporary health insurance for the time being. You can look for employment and decide which health insurance is best for you. Moreover, you can refer to our article on insurance in Germany to get information about other additional insurances.

Apply For Visa On Time

The waiting time for the visa application range from one to four months. It depends on your home country and the type of visa you want to apply for. That’s why you should check for your visa requirements in advance. You should apply for a German visa three months before your planned departure date to get the passport and visa back on time.

Book Your Flight Tickets In Advance

Your flight ticket booking should depend on the city where you found a job or university. It also depends on where you plan to job hunt and ensure to fly to the nearest international airport. Every big city has its airport. The three largest ones are in Berlin, Munich, and Frankfurt.

You should note that most airlines allow you to travel with one checked bag weighing up to twenty-three kgs. You should book in advance if you are planning on taking an additional bag.

Find A Place To Live In Germany

You should find a place to stay before you arrive in Germany. If you have an apartment already, select one in Germany that will ease your life. It will allow you to register your home after your arrival. You can check many furnished apartment rental websites such as Homelike.

Get An Appointment To Register

Once you arrive in Germany, registering your accommodation is the most important thing. Most of the cities in Germany require you to do so within the first two weeks of your arrival.

In Germany, the registration process is known as Anmeldung. The process is that you present yourself to a government office and register your address. By following this process, you are letting them know there is a new resident in the city.

The address registration typically takes fifteen minutes. Once you complete the process, you will get a critical piece of paper. This important document will help you get German services such as opening a bank account and contacting an internet service for your apartment.

Look For Which Bank You Want To Use

Once you arrive in Germany, you should look for which bank you want to use. You can refer to our articles opening a bank account and bank account comparison to get the suitable choice for you. Your employer will ask for a German bank account to credit your salary. That’s why it is a crucial thing to do.

Opening a bank account depends on where you live in Germany. You can open a bank account from abroad by using mobile bank services. Suppose you want to use the services of a traditional private German bank such as Commerzbank. In that case, you can open a bank account once you are in Germany.

Moreover, you can choose the money transfer services before moving to Germany. It will help you wire transfers from your foreign bank account to Germany. You should avoid using a regular bank because their bank fees are very high. You can choose Wise, which is a fully digital and modern provider. It offers the real exchange rate without any increased charges.

Start Learning The Basic German Language

If you are still not good at speaking German, you can move, live and work in Germany. However, there are a lot of benefits to speaking and understanding the German language. There is no doubt that the German language is challenging. If you are new to this great and beautiful country, do not expect to speak German fluently during the first few months. Sometimes it takes years to be proficient.

It would help if you took the time to learn some essential German words and sayings before moving to Germany. Here in Germany, the natives do not mind speaking English. These days there are a lot of resources available to learn the basics of German. However, the best way is to actively use the language and get direct feedback from a professional teacher. Lingoda is one of the online language schools, and they have small classes and great flexibility.

Conclusion

We hope you are clear about what to do before moving to Germany. We assure you that you will happily follow these steps and make them happen. In the beginning, moving to Germany might be a long and complicated process. But if you have clear criteria for what to do before moving, then it will ease your life. Now we will proceed to the next part of moving to Germany. Here we will talk about the essential things you need to do once you are in Germany.

Originally published at - https://redbus2germany.com/moving-to-germany-part-1/

#Insurance in Germany #Moving to Germany

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movetogermanywithease · 1 year

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Discover the detailed job seeker visa Germany requirements for applying for a work visa in Germany! Learn the necessary qualifications to work and live in Germany. Get started now!

#jobs for expats in germany #jobs in germany for foreigners with visa sponsorship #Job Seeker Visa Germany Requirements #Germany Work Visa Requirements #Germany Job Opportunities #Germany Jobs for Foreigners

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munaeem · 7 days

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Understanding German Work Culture for Expats

When we think of German work culture, words like efficient, punctual, and somewhat aloof often come to mind. However, there is much more to the German work ethic than these stereotypes suggest. Hannah Hummel dives deeper into the nuances of the German professional landscape. She reveals what truly matters to the younger generation in their careers. Young professionals in Germany focus on…

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#German Work Culture #Germany

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briestlawfirm1 · 10 days

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Tax Matters in Berlin: Why You Need a Tax Consultant

Berlin's tax season can be difficult. For expatriates, freelancers, and business owners, tax management can be compared to traversing a labyrinth. A Tax Consultant in Berlin can help in this situation. Why, therefore, should you give hiring one some thought? Let us investigate.

Understanding Berlin's Complex Tax System

The complexity of the Berlin tax system is well recognized. It's simple to commit errors due to the numerous tax laws and regulations. Fines or audits may result from this error. A Tax Advisor Berlin helps you steer clear of these traps. They can help you negotiate the German tax system since they are experts on its nuances.

The Benefits of Professional Tax Advice

You receive more than simply someone to submit your taxes when you hire a German Tax Consultant. You can save money by following their valuable advice. Their expertise in finance is invaluable, whether it's helping you prepare for the future or comprehending tax deductions. They help you maximize any tax breaks and guarantee you're not overpaying on taxes.

Tailored Tax Solutions for Businesses

Tax obligations might be onerous for Berlin-based enterprises. From VAT to corporate tax, the obligations abound. To fit your particular requirements, a Tax Consultant in Red can offer customized solutions. Along with assisting you in maximizing your tax liabilities, they work with you to ensure compliance with all tax laws.

Supporting Freelancers and Expats

Berlin boasts an increasing concentration of expatriates and freelancers. Tax filing can especially challenge these people. It's simple to get confused because different rules apply. These unique scenarios are well-known to a Tax Advisor Berlin. They can guarantee that you are meeting your obligations and assist you in understanding them.

The Role of a Tax Attorney Consultation

Your tax situation can occasionally call for legal advice. This is why one needs a Tax Attorney Consultation. They can offer legal direction on intricate tax issues. Their expertise is essential whether you're facing an audit or need tax planning advice. They may provide a thorough approach to your tax requirements by working with a German Tax Consultant.

Staying Updated with Changing Tax Laws

Tax law in Germany is constantly changing. The regular person finds it difficult to keep up with these updates. An informed Tax Consultant in Berlin follows these developments. They guarantee the accurate and current accuracy of your tax filings. This will help you avoid future possible problems.

How to Choose the Right Tax Consultant in Berlin

It is vital to choose the appropriate Tax Consultant. Look for someone with experience and knowledge of the German tax system. They should be able to explain difficult tax issues in simple terms and communicate coherently. Furthermore crucial are their responsiveness and accessibility, particularly during tax season.

Tax issues in Berlin need not be difficult. You may easily deal with the complexities by consulting with a Tax Consultant. Their expertise guarantees that you are compliant and optimized in your tax filings, whether you are a business, freelancer, or expatriate. When legal concerns emerge, a Tax Attorney Consultation can offer additional peace of mind. Having the correct tax support can make all the difference in a city as vibrant as Berlin.

Source - https://briestlawfirm.livejournal.com/554.html?newpost=1

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newstfionline · 13 days

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Sunday, September 15, 2024

The disaster our cities are not prepared for (Washington Post) For days, residents of Houston struggled to survive as temperatures rose. They shared generators, filled buckets and bathtubs with ice, packed air conditioned hotels and emergency rooms. The most vulnerable struggled to get the care they needed. Many died. But in some ways, Houston was narrowly spared. Temperatures rose to the high 90s, but only for a couple of days. If the heat had stayed, the human toll could have been far worse. Experts warn this type of catastrophe—a combined power outage with a heat wave—is a scenario that cities and states are unprepared for. “I don’t think it’s likely—I think it’s an absolute certainty,” said Brian Stone, a professor and director of the Urban Climate Lab at the Georgia Institute of Technology. “I think it’s an absolute certainty that we will have an extreme heat wave and an extended blackout in the United States.” The Washington Post analyzed the risks of a prolonged, citywide blackout coinciding with a more severe heat wave. The results show that such a heat wave could kill between 600 and 1,500 people in the Houston metro area over five days. With the power grid working normally, the same heat wave would lead to around 50 deaths.

Mexico’s president asks Sinaloa cartel to act ‘responsibly’ as violence escalates in the north (AP) Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador on Friday asked the warring factions of the Sinaloa cartel to act “responsibly” so no one else gets killed, after a week of escalating violence nearly paralyzed the Sinaloa state capital, Culiacan. Asked by a journalist if he trusted that the cartels would heed his call, López Obrador answered bluntly: “The president of Mexico is always listened to.” “Even by criminals?” pressed the journalist. “By everyone, more so if one has moral authority,” responded the president. The president, who leaves office on Sept. 30, has repeatedly refused to confront cartels, laying out various justifications for his “hugs, not bullets” strategy offering opportunities to youths so they won’t join cartels. The latest clashes in Culiacan are the latest example of the violence that continues to plague Mexico, where cartels employ increasingly sophisticated forms of warfare including roadside bombs or IEDs, trenches, home-made armored vehicles and bomb-dropping drones.

Seeking affordable housing in tourist hotspots (Reuters) Two European tourist and expat hot spots are trying different approaches to make housing affordable for their citizens. Greece will offer tax breaks to homeowners who convert their rentals to long term from short. Portugal is simply creating more supply by budgeting more than $2 billion to build 33,000 homes by the end of the decade.

Prague on high flood alert as central Europe faces torrential rain (AP) Prague was putting up flood defences in the city’s historic centre on Friday after Czech forecasters expanded a warning for extreme rainfall to areas of the country including the capital, which suffered catastrophic flooding more than 20 years ago. Heavy rain has pounded mostly eastern parts of the Czech Republic since Thursday, and the most affected areas may see more than a third of annual rainfall over four days by Sunday. Similar weather has been forecast around central Europe, including southern Germany and parts of Austria, Poland, and Slovakia over the coming days. “Data shows we are facing uneasy days,” Czech Prime Minister Petr Fiala told a televised briefing after a crisis committee meeting, adding that in some places water levels may exceed flooding coming on average once in 100 or more years.

Russia expels six UK diplomats as tensions rise over Ukraine missiles (Reuters) Russia’s FSB security service said on Friday it had revoked the accreditation of six British diplomats in Moscow after accusing them of spying and sabotage work, signalling the Kremlin’s anger at what it sees as London’s vital role in helping Ukraine. Britain described the accusations as “completely baseless”, saying it was a tit-for-tat action after the UK expelled the Russian defence attache and removed diplomatic status from several Russian properties in May. Russia announced the expulsions hours before British Prime Minister Keir Starmer met U.S. President Joe Biden at the White House, a crucial step towards winning the go-ahead for Kyiv to use long-range missiles against targets in Russia.

India’s top court releases New Delhi’s chief minister on bail after 6 months in jail (AP) India’s top court on Friday freed on bail Arvind Kejriwal, a prominent opposition leader and chief minister of New Delhi, who was arrested nearly six months ago ahead of national elections on charges of receiving bribes from a liquor distributor. Kejriwal is the leader of the Aam Aadmi Party, or Common Man’s Party, which governs New Delhi. He is one of India’s most influential politicians of the past decade and a fierce critic of Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Kejriwal was initially arrested in March, weeks before the national elections. He denied the accusations and called them a political conspiracy. Kejriwal’s party is part of a broad alliance of opposition parties called INDIA which was the main challenger to Modi’s Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party in the elections, which concluded in June.

Pope’s Asia Tour Points Toward a Less-Western Church (NYT) Over the last couple of weeks, Pope Francis hoisted himself up on sore legs dozens of times. As he crisscrossed large swaths of the Asia Pacific region, he shuffled from cars to his wheelchair, from the wheelchair to makeshift papal thrones and on and off many planes as hot, tropical winds blew on the tarmac. The trip amounted to the longest and farthest reaching yet for Francis, and at 87, some of his supporters fear it may be one of his last. But that he flew thousands of miles to Asian countries with relatively small Catholic populations, braving oppressive temperatures and high levels of humidity and pollution, underlined Francis’s commitment to building a church with a less Eurocentric future. “The long distance, the fatigue, the challenges,” said Cardinal Michael Czerny, a close aide to Francis. “They are part of the message.” His purpose, he has long made clear, is to emphasize outreach and inclusivity. As he visited remote, tropical villages in Papua New Guinea, he put in practice his pledge to embrace what he calls the church’s “peripheries,” faraway, minority or poorer Catholics.

China raises retirement age (CNBC) China will raise retirement age for the first time since 1978. The country’s top legislative body has approved proposals to “gradually raise” the retirement age from 60 to 63 for men, 55 to 58 for women in white-collar jobs and 50 to 55 for women in blue-collar jobs. The move aims at addressing China’s shrinking population and aging workforce. The policy change will be carried out over 15 years, starting in January 2025. China’s current retirement ages are among the lowest in the world.

Women in Iran are going without hijabs as the 2nd anniversary of Mahsa Amini’s death approaches (AP) On the streets of Iranian cities, it’s becoming more common to see a woman passing by without a mandatory headscarf, or hijab, as the second anniversary of the death of Mahsa Amini and the mass protests it sparked approaches. There’s no government official or study acknowledging the phenomenon, which began as Iran entered its hot summer months and power cuts in its overburdened electrical system became common. But across social media, videos of people filming neighborhood streets or just talking about a normal day in their life, women and girls can be seen walking past with their long hair out over their shoulders, particularly after sunset. This defiance comes despite what United Nations investigators describe as “expanded repressive measures and policies” by Iran’s theocracy to punish them—though there’s been no recent catalyzing event like Amini’s death to galvanize demonstrators.

Underage, Under Fire (AP) JENIN, West Bank—In the web of battered, sun-baked streets winding up the hillside, bloodshed is as unrelenting as the heat. So it is not hard to see why, when raid sirens and gunfire erupted yet again on a morning in late May, 15-year-old Mahmoud Hamadneh turned his bike down an alley that held out the promise of refuge. “He didn’t do anything. He only had his books and a pencil case,” says Amjad Hamadneh, whose son, a buzz-cut devotee of computer games, was one of two teens killed that morning in the opening minutes of a raid by Israeli forces. More than 150 teens and children 17 or younger have been killed in the West Bank since Hamas’ brutal attack on communities in southern Israel set off the war last October. Most died in nearly daily raids by the Israeli army that Amnesty International says have used disproportionate and unlawful force. At the same time, Israel, which has long jailed Palestinians from the West Bank without charge, has extended that practice to many more teens. After October, food deprivation, overcrowding of cells and other mistreatment escalated sharply, the recently released and advocates say.

The sweet success of banana wine (BBC) A small-scale farmer in northern Malawi, Emily Nkhana used to discard over-ripe bananas or just let them rot, but she has now found a profitable use for them—banana wine. Extreme heat was causing bananas to ripen too quickly, resulting in heavy losses for Ms Nkhana and many other farmers who live in Karonga district. “Then we discovered how to make banana wine,” she tells the BBC, as she peels lemons that would be used to preserve the taste of bananas at the processing plant of Twitule Cooperative Group. For the farmers, it is not just about making wine—but also survival, resilience, and embracing the new possibilities that come with a changing climate. The banana pulp misture is left to ferment for several weeks, transforming the banana pulp into a potent, aromatic wine, containing 13% alcohol—similar to wine made from grapes. “It’s smooth and light, almost like a dessert wine,” says Paul Kamwendo, a local wine enthusiast who has become one of the biggest fans of banana wine in Karonga. “I had no idea one could make wine out of bananas.”

Harvest Moon (Space.com) Look up on September 17! The Harvest Moon, the full moon closest to the fall equinox, will experience a slight lunar eclipse, a foretaste of the ring eclipse of the sun on October 2. The name “Harvest Moon” comes from a time before electricity and agricultural machinery, when farmers relied on the moonlight to harvest crops through the night and work more when their cultivations were the most bountiful.

Studies on pigeon-guided missiles, swimming abilities of dead fish among Ig Nobels winners (AP) A study that explores the feasibility of using pigeons to guide missiles and one that looks at the swimming abilities of dead fish were among the winners Thursday of this year’s Ig Nobels, the prize for comical scientific achievement. Held less than a month before the actual Nobel Prizes are announced, the 34th annual Ig Nobel prize ceremony at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology was organized by the Annals of Improbable Research magazine’s website to make people laugh and think. Winners received a transparent box containing historic items related to Murphy’s Law—the theme of the night—and a nearly worthless Zimbabwean $10 trillion bill. Actual Nobel laureates handed the winners their prizes.

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