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#business opportunities in germany
kennomollo · 1 year
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Business Ideas in Germany for Immigrants (Online & offline)
Did you just relocate to Germany in search of a better life only to realize that life there isn’t as affordable as in Africa? Are you thinking of starting a side hustle or a business to supplement your income? Have you settled for a business idea yet? If you haven’t, don’t worry. In today’s post, we reveal 30+ business ideas in Germany for immigrants. These are business ideas with you can either…
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theleadersglobe · 3 months
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Germany’s Opportunity Card: Simplifying Immigration for Skilled Professionals
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Recently, Germany introduced the Opportunity Card, also known as the ‘Chancenkarte,’ a groundbreaking initiative aimed at simplifying the immigration process for skilled professionals from non-EU countries. This innovative approach allows individuals to enter Germany to seek employment without needing a permanent job offer or family sponsorship, marking a significant shift in the country’s immigration policy. The Opportunity Card is designed to enhance opportunities for international student employment and attract a diverse range of skilled professionals to Germany.
Benefits of the Opportunity Card
The Opportunity Card offers numerous advantages to applicants. It simplifies the entry process into Germany, granting a one-year residence permit that can be extended, allowing individuals to seek and secure employment. Applicants can earn a monthly income of up to 1000 euros and work up to 20 hours per week, which is particularly beneficial for international students. Additionally, the card provides time for individuals to secure qualified part-time or full-time positions, making the job search process less stressful and more accessible.
Read More:(https://theleadersglobe.com/life-interest/education/germanys-opportunity-card-simplifying-immigration-for-skilled-professionals/)
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darlingkeyzblog · 4 months
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Unlocking Business Opportunities for Women and Immigrants in Germany
Germany, Europe’s largest economy, has long been a land of opportunity. With its strong infrastructure, robust market, and supportive government policies, the country offers fertile ground for aspiring entrepreneurs. In particular, women and immigrants find Germany to be a promising destination for launching their business ventures. This blog post dives into the unique opportunities available,…
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
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It’s an open secret in fashion. Unsold inventory goes to the incinerator; excess handbags are slashed so they can’t be resold; perfectly usable products are sent to the landfill to avoid discounts and flash sales. The European Union wants to put an end to these unsustainable practices. On Monday, [December 4, 2023], it banned the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear.
“It is time to end the model of ‘take, make, dispose’ that is so harmful to our planet, our health and our economy,” MEP Alessandra Moretti said in a statement. “Banning the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear will contribute to a shift in the way fast fashion manufacturers produce their goods.”
This comes as part of a broader push to tighten sustainable fashion legislation, with new policies around ecodesign, greenwashing and textile waste phasing in over the next few years. The ban on destroying unsold goods will be among the longer lead times: large businesses have two years to comply, and SMEs have been granted up to six years. It’s not yet clear on whether the ban applies to companies headquartered in the EU, or any that operate there, as well as how this ban might impact regions outside of Europe.
For many, this is a welcome decision that indirectly tackles the controversial topics of overproduction and degrowth. Policymakers may not be directly telling brands to produce less, or placing limits on how many units they can make each year, but they are penalising those overproducing, which is a step in the right direction, says Eco-Age sustainability consultant Philippa Grogan. “This has been a dirty secret of the fashion industry for so long. The ban won’t end overproduction on its own, but hopefully it will compel brands to be better organised, more responsible and less greedy.”
Clarifications to come
There are some kinks to iron out, says Scott Lipinski, CEO of Fashion Council Germany and the European Fashion Alliance (EFA). The EFA is calling on the EU to clarify what it means by both “unsold goods” and “destruction”. Unsold goods, to the EFA, mean they are fit for consumption or sale (excluding counterfeits, samples or prototypes)...
The question of what happens to these unsold goods if they are not destroyed is yet to be answered. “Will they be shipped around the world? Will they be reused as deadstock or shredded and downcycled? Will outlet stores have an abundance of stock to sell?” asks Grogan.
Large companies will also have to disclose how many unsold consumer products they discard each year and why, a rule the EU is hoping will curb overproduction and destruction...
Could this shift supply chains?
For Dio Kurazawa, founder of sustainable fashion consultancy The Bear Scouts, this is an opportunity for brands to increase supply chain agility and wean themselves off the wholesale model so many rely on. “This is the time to get behind innovations like pre-order and on-demand manufacturing,” he says. “It’s a chance for brands to play with AI to understand the future of forecasting. Technology can help brands be more intentional with what they make, so they have less unsold goods in the first place.”
Grogan is equally optimistic about what this could mean for sustainable fashion in general. “It’s great to see that this is more ambitious than the EU’s original proposal and that it specifically calls out textiles. It demonstrates a willingness from policymakers to create a more robust system,” she says. “Banning the destruction of unsold goods might make brands rethink their production models and possibly better forecast their collections.”
One of the outstanding questions is over enforcement. Time and again, brands have used the lack of supply chain transparency in fashion as an excuse for bad behaviour. Part of the challenge with the EU’s new ban will be proving that brands are destroying unsold goods, not to mention how they’re doing it and to what extent, says Kurazawa. “Someone obviously knows what is happening and where, but will the EU?”"
-via British Vogue, December 7, 2023
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batshit-auspol · 9 months
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With the sudden collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, many of the former empire's resources were sold off to the highest bidder, and their $14 billion space shuttle program was no exception.
Seeking to recoup some of that eyewatering spend, in 1998, the "Buran" (Russia's answer to the American Space Shuttle) was offered up for sale on eBay for $10 million.
No serious offers were received - with most people assuming the listing to be a joke, until the New York Post confirmed the sale, with Russian authorities stating they "actually have two" if anyone is interested.
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(Pictured: A later auction of a smaller scale Buran in 2005)
Sensing an opportunity, a group of Aussie entrepreneurs including Australia's first astronaut and the lawyer for Prime Minister Paul Keating offer to lease the shuttle from Russia, to put it on display in Australia during the Sydney Olympics.
After gaining permission from the Kremlin for the lease, in 1999 the Russian military briefly stops bombing Chechnya in order to dismantle the Buran, and it is placed on a barge to be shipped to Sydney on the (soon to be infamous for other reasons) Tampa shipping vessel at a cost of $5 million.
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Once in Sydney, after a disastrous few months on display where crowds failed to flock to the shuttle exhibition featuring such compelling educational offerings as "activities is to assist in the development of issues of nutrition and hygiene at home" (an actual quote from their website) - the leasing company declared bankruptcy and washed their hands of the space shuttle completely.
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The Buran Gift shop where you could buy soviet space ship themed football jerseys, in case you needed one of those
One of four people listed on the lease, described as a business partner of the Prime Minister, also claims he never knew he was a director of the company, which went on to cause a lot more problems.
This whole debacle presented a slight issue for the cash strapped Russian authorities, who had now only been paid $100,000 for the 9 year lease of the shuttle instead of the $600,000 they were owed. Eventually the decision was made to abandon the once $1 billion Soviet pride and joy in a Sydney carpark, where it resided for a year under a small tarpaulin.
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Failed attempts to be rid of the shuttle included a 12 day auction hosted by an LA radio station, where listeners were offered the chance to buy the shuttle for $6 million, however all bids turned out to be pranks and the shuttle remained.
Multiple attempts were also made to sell the shuttle to Tom Cruise, with the exacerbated movie star's representatives repeatedly telling the insistent traders that he was not interested in owning a Russian spaceship.
Eventually a Singaporean group dismantled the shuttle and shipped it overseas, however Russian authorities soon reported they once again had been failed to be paid for the lease. Singaporean representatives responded that they definitely had paid for the shuttle, and that they simply couldn't remember when or how much was paid.
Representing the Russian government, Lawyer Suhaila Turani told the Wall Street Journal “I feel sorry for the Russians. They’re good in space, but they’re very naive in business.”
For a time the shuttle was abandoned in the storage yard of event company Pico, with the company owner telling the Wall Street Journal "I just want this thing out of my life" after three years of being stuck with it.
A few years later the shuttle was found by German journalists dismantled in a junkyard, and it was then bought and shipped to Germany to be put on display a museum, so all's well that ends well (except they dropped it from a crane while trying to set it up, but it polished up okay).
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some-bunniii · 8 months
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Lucifer with an artist reader
・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️
warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing
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After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.
He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.
When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.
At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”
Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.
Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.
He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.
If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.
It was ASMR for the King of Hell.
You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.
You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.
Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.
“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”
You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.
Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.
His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.
And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.
“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”
“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”
“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.
Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.
“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.
“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”
“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”
“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”
“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”
You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.
“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.
Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.
Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.
And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.
“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“
Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.
“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”
He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.
When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.
“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”
Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.
In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.
Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.
For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.
“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.
You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.
You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.
When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.
“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.
There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.
You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.
Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.
“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.
Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.
Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.
“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.
“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”
You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?
“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”
Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.
“Fine.” You conceded.
“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.
The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.
After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.
“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”
“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”
You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.
“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”
“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.
You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.
Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.
Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.
“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.
“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.
A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.
“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.
“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”
You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.
“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.
Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.
“Alright, I suppose so.”
You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.
You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.
‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’
Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.
You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.
The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.
You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.
At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.
You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?
“Charlie?” You asked slowly.
The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.
You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.
“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.
“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.
“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.
Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.
“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”
“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.
“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”
You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.
“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”
“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”
You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.
“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.
This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.
Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.
“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”
You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.
“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”
“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.
You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.
In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.
“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.
Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.
You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.
“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.
Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.
Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.
You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.
You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.
“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”
You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.
“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”
You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.
Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?
You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.
You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,
His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.
Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?
His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.
He replied with a wave of his fingers.
You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.
“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.
What the hell was he doing?!
“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”
Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.
“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”
He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.
A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.
Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.
“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.
Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.
You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.
“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”
Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.
“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?
You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.
“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.
“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.
Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.
His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.
You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.
Did he just tense?
Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.
You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.
“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.
“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.
His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.
You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.
Taking a step back, you admired your work.
You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.
“And one more thing…” You started.
Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.
“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.
You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.
You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.
Maybe now this would be an even match.
“Begin.”
Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.
“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.
“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”
“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.
“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”
The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.
Then, he turned his head to you.
“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”
You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.
“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”
The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.
The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.
You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.
For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.
With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.
Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.
“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.
Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.
“Careful~” He chided.
You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.
You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.
“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”
“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”
You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”
He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.
Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.
This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.
To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.
Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.
You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.
You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.
Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.
Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?
You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.
“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”
“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.
You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.
“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.
“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”
“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”
Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.
“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”
You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.
“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.
“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.
You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.
“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.
“You did?”
“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”
“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.
You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.
“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.
“Ask what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”
His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.
You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.
“As always.”
His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.
As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.
“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.
His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.
You promised silently it wasn’t.
The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.
Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.
“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”
——————
🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!
💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?
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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months
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Mafia konig and his sweet innocent assistant
OMG!! MAFIA KONIG!! My mom was obsessed with TV show about ex-spec ops soldiers starting a criminal ring as a friend group because they didn't have any opportunities after being discharged from the military and...well, let me introduce you to this: Mafia!Konig as a discharged colonel Konig, was let go from the military with(thankfully) enough connections and retirement funds that his little hobby of smuggling guns from poorer Eastern European countries into Austria and Germany(both having horribly strict gun laws) for the less fortunate criminal rings. He gets them guns and drugs -- much lower prices too, thank god for his Prague connections and cheap labor -- and they get him money and power. Mafia!Konig who isn't your typical suit-wearing nice and clean-cut mob boss. He still wears his uniform - not because he wants to taint the suit, but because of his connections as the guy on the inside in the special forces - he was booted out of the army because of his age and traumas, even though he refused until his last day at the forces. He won't ever let anyone tear that form away from him - you just know he fucks you in his office in full gear, bouncing you on his cock as you're forced to beg your colonel to let you cum. Wearing his dog tags as the sign of ownership - as you're nothing but his obedient pet. Mafia!Konig has a solid reputation. A center that helps veterans overcome their traumas and find new purpose in life after exiting special forces - and you're his pretty assistant, just an innocent thing that runs around and does all of his paperwork because Colonel hates doing it! And you want to keep your job, you want to be useful, you're a good girl that doesn't question the suspicious numbers and shady people that attend some of his other totally legal businesses. You know better than to accuse people who served your country of being a dishonest bunch of thugs. Mafia!Konig who knows this is bad for you - innocent thing, you shouldn't ever be wrapped in his schemes, he only hired you because he wanted someone nice, someone kind to hang on to. He is doing terrible things every day, not shading from murders, assassinations and contraband smuggling - but he can come to you and place his head on your chest, just laying here for a few minutes as you stroke his head and relieve all of his anxieties.
Mafia!Konig who eventually convinces you to be his girlfriend. His trophy wife even, eventually - he wants to take care of you, to free you from having a job and worry about money...he has all means to make your life in Vienna as sweet as possible, cute thing, and he even hired move assistants for his more illegal doings just so your only job would be bringing him coffee and sucking him off under a table after the closes a very important weapons deal, forcing his thick cock in your willing throat as he promises to take you to the mountains on Christmas.
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drvscarlett · 6 months
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About You Pt2
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
A/N: were in the 2009 season. i also grabbed some ideas from a film quote so if you notice that, hello hehe. hope you enjoy, let me know your comments
About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama
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2009, Albert Park
Moving from Toro Rosso to Red Bull has been the source of excitement of Sebastian ever since he signed the contract last December. He was excited to work with a bigger team and it opened up better opportunities for a championship which is why he feels really giddy walking to Albert Park.
"Seems like a good year for a championship?"Christian greeted Sebastian.
"I'm looking forward to that, the car feels nice"Sebastian agreed.
When the two walked to the garage, they immediately saw the Webber siblings discussing with some of the mechanics. Mark immediately waved at Sebastian.
Sebastian can tell that their dynamics improved since it was announced that they will be teammates. They spent a lot of time together in Milton Keynes so they found each other tolerable. It was surprising that now he feels a lot more closer to Mark than to Y/N.
He was actually expecting her to be around when they said Mark will be around Milton Keynes but the female Webber never showed up. Mark says that Y/N has been taking some time off since she will be busy during the season. Sebastian thinks he might be the reason why she has been absent so he felt a little relieve to see her.
"Excited for the first race of the season?" Y/N asked.
"The car seems alright, I think we can bring some good points in"Sebastian replied.
"We're gonna bring in a challenge this year, I can feel that we can compete for the drivers and constructors championship this year"Mark added
"How about Brawn, do you think they'll be a challenge?"Y/N wondered.
Sebastian heard about the team during the winter break. It was sort of a crazy story about how everything happened. He never saw Jenson or Rubens as a threat so he thinks that they might be an okay team that he doesn't have to worry about.
"They are a new team, I'm sure they won't be a threat" famous last words.
Brawn GP turns out to be a slight threat. Sebastian calls it a slight threat since this was only the first race and maybe its just their luck that they managed to pull away. They have to see how they perform in the next few races.
It was quite a bummer that Red Bull was unable to bring any points. It frustrated him heavily since he started 3rd and managed to stay 2nd the whole race until that unfortunate collision with Kubica that ruined his race.
Mark managed to finish the race but he finished 13th. Still out of the points.
As Sebastian was replaying the whole thing in his hotel room, he heard soft knocks at his door. He didn't remember ordering anything from room service so he was a bit confused as he headed to open the door.
"Hi Seb" it was Y/N "I was sent here by Mark to ask you if you want to go out and eat. You are in Australia and our family is from Australia and it will be a little bit rude if we didn't treat you out in Australia"
"That's too many Australia in one sentence"
"Have dinner with us and the family?"she simplifies "Please?"
There was not much to do anyway, Seb thinks so he accepted the offer. It might also be a good start to rekindle the friendship since its been a while since the two spoke with each other.
"You're driving?"Sebastian asked
"Of course, what kind of host am I if I'm going to make you drive"
The drive was reminiscent of Sebastian's memory when they were in Germany. Only that the view is more of beaches rather than the greens and the cold of Europe.
"I heard stories about you and Mark, it seems that you two are getting along quite well"Y/N opened up the conversation
"Oh he talks about me?"
"Well as his assistant, I have to ask about his work dynamics so yeah you have been a talking point of our conversation"
"That's nice"Sebastian smiles "How is life treating you? I didn't see you in Milton Keynes"
She lets out a heavy sigh and Sebastian could tell that there is a certain tiredness in her eyes. Maybe its true what Mark said that Y/N is actually drained from a season of F1.
"I just have to get away. A lot of pressure to deliver"
Sebastian understands that. Its probably the reason why he also tried to be understanding with Mark's situation as well. He knows that at the end of the day, the sports was brutal in one way or another. Everyone eventually gets that pressure to deliver.
"Let's not talk about f1, lets just talk about basic life things" Sebastian steered the conversation.
There was a smile gracing both of their faces because its just Sebastian and Y/N again. No last names, no championships, just them.
2009, Sepang International Circuit
"I hate wet races" Y/N confirms.
She doesn't get why everyone gets a bit excited with wet racing but she can't find how this is enjoyable for some people. Isn't the thrill of racing beyond speed limit exciting enough for them? Now they even want to race under dangerous weather conditions.
"It test your skills as a driver" Sebastian defended "Back me up here Mark"
"You're on your own Seb"was the reply of the older Webber. He did not want to take side with anyone.
The trio has been sitting at the garage waiting for the race to start. There was still 20 minutes left and Y/N has been stressing about how the dark clouds are looming over. She thinks it may start under dry conditions then go to wet in a snap.
"You can test your skills by overtaking and setting the fastest lap" Y/N noted
"Its all about strategy and taking risks"Sebastian assured.
"You better make sure that the both of you finish the race"
"No promises, Seb might hit me again"Mark joked
"Oh c'mon, I said I was sorry about that"
True enough to Y/N's prediction, the race started on the dry conditions then it ended up to be a wet race. Y/N had her fair share of wet races but this was the most terrifying for her opinion. There were puddles and the drivers can't see a thing with the rain blocking their vision.
It gotten so bad that Y/N actually went out of the driver's room to check on the status of the drivers.
"Aren't they red flagging the race?"she asked one of the mechanics
"There is still nothing from the stewards but Mark is also insisting that the race should be stopped"
Y/N was glad that she wasn't the only sane Webber around.
Just then there was a crash on screen and the weather made it very difficult for them to decipher which car spun but it was for sure a Red Bull. Y/N felt a bit comforted that it just spun without hitting anyone or anything.
"Its confirmed, that is Seb's car"
"Safety car for the lap"
"Webber is gonna ask to stop the race"
There was a flurry of emotions inside the garage. The race was stopped at lap 33 and there was the question if they will wait for it to restart or is it called off completely.
"I'm in 15th, this is not good"Sebastian was already groaning. He missed out on the points again by a big margin.
"Hey 15th is okay than dnf or being hospitalized"
Knowing Sebastian, Y/N knew he wanted to do well and it didn't seem like it was going to how Sebastian had it in his mind earlier this year. She gave him a comforting pat.
"Do you want some ice cream?"she asked
Sebastian looked at her as if she grew two heads "In this cold weather? You are asking for ice cream?"
"Ice cream heals people's boo boo" Y/N shrugged "Besides Kimi made me hungry for ice cream"
"You are crazy" Sebastian started "But c'mon lets go get some ice cream"
2009, Circuit de Catalunya
Mark: Can you see me before qualis at the back of the garage Mark: need your help, please
Sebastian never received any urgent texts from Mark so he must say that his curiosity is piqued by it. He immediately set out to meet Mark in the designated location.
"You need me?"Sebastian asked.
"Sebastian, just the person I needed" Mark seems elated to see him "Listen I need you to do me a favor"
"Okay as long as I don't have to hide a body"
"What?"
"Nevermind that. It was a joke Mark"Sebastian wanted to facepalm himself. Mark never seems to understand his humor especially when he was too excited with things.
"So May 15 is coming up. I need your help to distract my sister and maybe tour her around Spain while we do some preparation at the hotel. I just need your help to distract her for like 3-4 hours"Mark explained.
"15th?What's on the 15th?"
Sebastian was pretty sure that there was no race or other commitments that is happening on the 15th. He tries to rack his head for any important dates on the 15th but he can't remember a thing. Meanwhile, Mark looked offended that Sebastian didn't know the significance of May 15.
"Its Y/N's birthday"Mark answered.
Oh. Now that Sebastian thinks about it, Y/N never told her birthday. He felt like an idiot after realizing how they spend a lot of time together but he still haven't asked her about her birth date. But now that he knows, he makes a mental note of it.
"Okay. I think I can do that. Leave it to me"
"Thanks Seb, I owe you big time"
Seb: Are you still here at the 15th? Y/N: Why are you asking? Seb: I'm feeling adventurous. What do you say about getting lost in spain? Y/N: hmm sounds nice. Count me in.
"How long till we get there"Y/N asked.
They have driven for quite some time already and Sebastian promised that this place will be worth the wait. Sebastian will not admit it but maybe he got a little bit of lost in directions for the past 20 minutes and he is just starting to get the hang of the destination right now.
"Just a few minutes more" Sebastian assured. He can already see the spires of the building so he felt a sigh of relief escape.
"We were lost a while ago, aren't we?"
Sebastian just give out a grin as he continues to drive closer to the place. He stopped at the designated parking lot and unlocked the door.
"Adventure awaits Miss Y/N, welcome to La Sagrada Familia"Sebastian introduced.
When Sebastian was looking for a place to go, the La Sagrada Familia was one of the top hit. Sebastian didn't even consider if she is religious or what but he thinks she can appreciate the reminder that this architecture is still a work in progress and it has managed to endure a lot throughout the years of construction.
"This is beautiful" was her response.
"They say that this will be the most beautiful form of apology when it is finished"Sebastian informed "This was built for the city's sins"
"I beg to disagree"Y/N replied.
It was now Sebastian's turn to be curious.
"I think this is the grandest gesture of someone's love"Y/N elaborated "This went on for years, decades, centuries-they did not stop loving Barcelona that they continue working so that the city will be forgiven"
It was a pretty analogy in Sebastian's mind. He felt like no amount of his research could compare with that realization.
If the outside of the cathedral looks majestic, the inside is beyond what they could imagine. The both of them let out a small woah as they stepped foot into the church.
"You know you can make three wishes when its your first time to enter a church, they say it comes true when you do that"Y/N mentioned "You wanna give it a go?"
Sebastian nodded and he noticed how Y/N immediately closed her eyes.
'A world drivers championship. Happiness. Y/N receiving her wish' was what Sebastian prayed for.
He takes out a peek and Y/N was still in her own solemn state. Sebastian wonders what is it that she wishes for and he hopes that this three wishes thing works. He really wanted Y/N to fulfill her wishes, it will make him extremely happy.
"What did you wish for Y/N"
"Safe races, World Peace, and points for you and Mark" she answered
"Oh c'mon, you don't have things about yourself. Don't you have any personal wishes? Like your own goals or your own things?"Sebastian quizzed
Y/N knew deep down that she wanted something but she knew that saying it at the moment might not be ideal. But heaven knows, she prayed for Sebastian Vettel to stay in her life.
2009, Nürburgring
Y/N didn't mind that she was in heels, she was running as fast as she could to parc ferme. The moment that the last lap started and Mark was still leading, she immediately headed straight to the destination. Their father was already at the pits waiting with the signboard.
There was certainly a mix of emotions. Y/N's mind reel back to how Mark started pole and then had an incident with Hamilton at the start of the race. It caused him to have a penalty which lessens his chances of winning but Mark was in for a mega-drive. He managed to regain all the places that he lost from the penalty and here he is leading the Grand Prix.
Y/N felt her ears ringing as the crowd roars as the chequered flag appeared. Every speaker was blaring out the obvious, this is Mark Webber's first win in Formula 1.
People are starting to line up near the barricades. Y/N doesn't care if she was being pushed but she will be the first one to meet her brother and congratulate him once he gets out of the car.
"YOU DID IT! YOU ABSOLUTELY CRUSHED IT" Y/N screamed to Mark.
Mark did not miss his sister and immediately hugged her tight. He kept on repeating his thanks for her support and for not giving up on him. Y/N could only choke on a sob with the cameras flashing the emotional sibling moment that they shared.
"Congratulations Mark"Sebastian appeared next to him and Mark gave him a hug.
It was a happy day for the Red Bull team for securing double podiums. The whole Red Bull team cannot contain their happiness as the two walked to their podium spots. It is certainly a day that warrants a much needed night out.
So fast forward and Red Bull rented out a club to celebrate the victory of today. Y/N was certain that she deserved to let loose a little with the events that happened today.
Shots after shots, Y/N managed to drink everything up until the room started to feel a little bit wavy. It was a good thing that Sebastian has not been much of a party animal, he knew that this was Mark's time to celebrate so he won't be taking too much of a spotlight.
"You are seriously wasted, you should stop drinking now" Sebastian said, catching Y/N before she could trip in her heels.
"my brother won, can't you believe ittttt"her words are slurred.
"Yep, I'm getting you water and were going back to the hotel"
"NOOOOOO"
But Sebastian has already carried her out of the club. Sebastian knew that there are probably much more people wasted there but Sebastian was focused on Y/N. She was the reason why Sebastian decided to sober up the entire night. Knowing that Mark will be celebrating, no one will take care of Y/N.
Sebastian wanted to take care of her.
The trip to the hotel was smooth as Y/N was asleep at the car. Sebastian was giggling when he picked her up and she started rambling about how there are different kinds of beautiful in formula 1.
"But you know what's the most beautiful thing in f1 that I have seen?" she asked "Its the time where I saw Sebastian Vettel test the car"
Sebastian got curious, he didn't know that Y/N was around when he tested the car.
"And it was so dreamy. There was this beauty about him and you know he is so passionate. He isn't a paid driver or maybe he is but damnnnn the way he raced and the way he loved the wheels"Y/N rambles on.
It feels illegal for Sebastian to be hearing this and he knows he should not take advantage of Y/N's truthful drunkness to hear what she thinks about him. But somehow, Sebastian stayed with her. He tucked her in the bed and left a glass of water at the bedside table.
"Did you know Sebastian Vettel is the prettiest boy ever. He is so pretty like how the sun is so pretty to the plants" Sebastian also laughed at the comparison. Y/N was really really drunk.
"I like Sebastian"
"What?" was Sebastian's shocked question.
"I like sebastian, what sue me? I think he is a pretty pretty boy"
Sebastian feels like his heart is pounding but he has to stay cool. She is drunk right now and she might not be aware of the things she is saying.
"You get some rest, lets talk about this in the morning" Sebastian said as he left the girl.
It took every ounce of his being to prevent himself from confessing that he likes her a lot too. But Sebastian will do his confession sober. If Y/N remembers this incident then they will talk about it. If not, he will wait for the right timing to discuss the feelings he has for her.
Morning came and Y/N did not remember anything.
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girlactionfigure · 5 months
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THURSDAY HERO: Faye Schulman
Faye Schulman was a young Jewish photographer in Poland who became a resistance fighter after her family was slaughtered by the Germans. For the next two years, she took pictures of what she witnessed, leaving an extensive photographic record for posterity.
Born Faigel Lazebnik in 1919, she was one of seven children in an Orthodox Jewish family in Lenin, a small village in Poland. Known as Faye, she learned four languages: Yiddish at home, Polish at school, Hebrew in religious school, and Russian among the non-Jewish townspeople. Her brother Moshe was a professional photographer and she worked as his assistant, developing a keen eye and a talent for photography. When Moshe moved to another town, Faigel took over his business.
After the Germans invaded Lenin in 1941, they forced the town’s Jews into a squalid ghetto. On August 14, 1942, the Nazis “liquidated” the Lenin ghetto by brutally murdering 1,850 Jews, including Faye’s parents, sisters, and brother. Only 26 Jews were spared because the Nazis could make use of their skills. Faye was ordered to develop photographs of the massacre that claimed the lives of her family as well as almost everyone she knew. She secretly made extra copies of the pictures and kept them to bear testimony to Nazi crimes against humanity.
Soon after, Faye escaped from the Nazis and joined the Molotava Brigade, a group of Russian resistance fighters in the forest of Belarus. She said, “This was the only way I could fight back and avenge my family.” They were known as “partisans” – an insurgent militia group opposing an occupation army. Despite rampant antisemitism in the group, she was allowed to join because she had some basic medical skills learned from her late brother-in-law, who had been a doctor in Lenin. Faye became the group’s nurse, serving alongside the resident doctor, a veterinarian. For almost two years, Faye dressed fighters’ wounds and did whatever she could for sick and injured fighters, despite a lack of medical equipment. She participated in armed raids, later remembering “When it was time to be hugging a boyfriend, I was hugging a rifle. Now I said to myself, my life is changed. I learned how to look after the wounded, I even learned how to make operations.”
Faye’s partisan brigade raided her hometown of Lenin, during which the resistance fighters acquired food, weapons and supplies. As they passed her childhood home, Faye urged her fellow partisans to burn it to the ground, which they did. “I won’t be living here. The family’s killed. To leave it for the enemy? I said right away: Burn it!”
Faye found her old photographic equipment, and brought it back to their forest encampment. For the next two years, Faye documented the dangerous existence of anti-Nazi partisans. It was vitally important to her because as she later said, “I want people to know that there was resistance. Jews did not go like sheep to the slaughter. I was a photographer. I have pictures. I have proof.”
Faye’s resistance group was liberated by the Soviets in July 1944. After the war ended, she was overjoyed to find that her brother Moshe had also survived and had been part of another resistance group. Faye and Moshe were the only survivors of their family of nine. Soon after Faye married Morris Schulman, who’d fought alongside Moshe. They decided to make a new life in Palestine, then occupied by the British, who made it difficult if not impossible for war-scarred Holocaust survivors to enter the land. For two years the Schulmans were stuck in a displaced persons camp in Germany, waiting for the opportunity to immigrate. They helped smuggle arms into Palestine to support the Jews fighting for independence. In 1947 Faye became pregnant, and they needed someplace safe to live. They were able to get visas to Canada, and settled in Toronto, where they ran a family business and raised two children. In 1995, Faye published a book about her experience as an anti-Nazi resistance fighter: “A Partisan’s Memoir: Woman of the Holocaust.”
Faye died on April 24, 2021, surrounded by her family, at age 101. Sadly, the last few years of her life saw an upsurge of antisemitism worldwide. Faye left an inspiring message for young people today: “To Jewish kids I would like to say – be proud to be Jewish. To non-Jewish kids I would like to say – if there is a war and you have to fight, fight for freedom and don’t be ashamed to be in the army.”
For saving lives, battling Nazis, and leaving a photographic record so the horrors of the Holocaust would not be forgotten, we honor Faye Lazebnik Schulman as this week’s Thursday Hero.
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fdelopera · 5 months
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Exactly, Anon. Exactly. This is why the Ivy League Universities being turned into Hamasnik terrorist bases is so horrifying. Especially with Jew-hating students attacking Jewish students and professors on campus, with the Universities' sanction. The Universities could shut these Jew-hate riots down. The fact that they don't shows that they want them to continue. They're trying to chase away the Jewish students and professors from these schools. That's always the first step. That's what the Nazis did first, too.
This article is taken from the US Holocaust Memorial Museum website. I highly recommend that everyone read the whole article. But even if you read the first paragraph, you'll see the parallels to what is happening on Ivy League campuses today:
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After Adolf Hitler was appointed German Chancellor in January 1933, the new Nazi government began an effort to completely reorder public and private life in Germany. 
The Nazi regime quickly targeted German universities—among the most elite in the world at the time—for restructuring according to Nazi principles. While the Nazi Ministry of Education initiated reforms, local Nazi organizations and student activists worked to bring Nazi ideals to German campuses. These forces, along with increasing antisemitism under Nazi rule, transformed everyday life at German universities. Throughout this period, students, faculty, and staff made individual decisions that both upheld and opposed Nazi ideology.
With the passage of the "Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service" in 1933, most Jewish professors in Germany were dismissed from their positions. Others, such as Professor Eugen Mittwoch, were able to keep their posts temporarily only due to the political value of their research. After purging Jewish and "politically undesirable" faculty, the regime then targeted the student body with the "Law Against Overcrowding in Schools and Universities." As German authorities continued to "Aryanize" German universities, Jews increasingly lost the opportunity to teach or study. Many non-Jewish Germans sought to benefit from their persecution. 
The daily business of university life continued in the wake of these new policies, but political concerns increasingly influenced the way professors and students worked and studied. The practice of denunciation, as demonstrated by the "Request for the Investigation of Professor Hans Peters," illustrates the danger posed to both students and faculty if they failed to follow new ideological norms. Those willing to voice support for the new regime—whether out of enthusiasm or practicality—often received promotions or other rewards. Meanwhile, many others quietly accepted the new policies and passively benefited from the persecution of their Jewish peers. Very few, such as the small student group in Munich known as the White Rose, took any significant action to resist the Nazi dictatorship.
The Nazi government and its supporters manipulated several aspects of the country's traditional university system to turn German higher education into a crucial source of support for the new regime. For example, the German student population had been largely male long before the Nazi rise to power, and German campuses were dominated by fraternities.  Those organizations maintained traditional military discipline and dress codes, and their alumni groups exercised significant political power both before and after 1933. Fraternities—often working with the Student Council and Nazi Student League—served  as a powerful and violent force for implementing Nazi principles at universities, often going beyond the party platform in their radicalism. A Report on the Camaraderie House for Female Students of Göttingen shows how Nazi student groups used the format of traditional student organizations to train both men and women to become the next generation of Nazi leaders.
Although the regime could rely on many committed student activists, the Third Reich also sought the support of German professors to lend legitimacy to their policies. Because German universities were state institutions, professors' academic careers became vulnerable to the whims and wishes of the Nazi state. While only a small minority of professors had been Nazi Party members before 1933, several prominent professors quickly voiced their support for the Third Reich. In the new German university, political loyalty was valued over academic ability in the assessment of students and in the selection and promotion of professors. Authorities infused university classrooms with Nazi ideology—as shown in the document, "Foundation of the Advanced School of the German Reich". But prioritizing politics over academics affected the quality of German higher education. 
Nevertheless, professors—even enthusiastic supporters of the new regime—often spoke out against some aspects of Nazi policy. The case of Eduard Kohlrausch shows how his opposition to  student-led book burnings caused his removal from the university administration. Dissent against individual policies, however, did not give rise to any concerted resistance movements. German universities as a whole formed a solid base of support for the Nazi regime, contributing valuable knowledge to the development of technology for the war effort as well as logistical support for the Holocaust.
The Nazification of universities overwhelmed the daily lives of students with new requirements, including mandatory lectures, physical exercises, labor duties, and political assemblies. Many students resented those requirements, even if they supported the Nazi Party. In Heidelberg, for example, where the daily life of students was dominated by political instruction and mandatory physical training, large numbers of students withdrew from the university in search of other educational opportunities. As illustrated in the "Memo Regarding Maria-Elisabeth Koch," students also showed varying degrees of enthusiasm for the labor service that was often required of them in territories occupied by Nazi Germany.
The Nazi government's project of remaking German universities was broadly successful, but it produced unintended consequences. The quality of education suffered significantly as classes were regularly cancelled for political assemblies and students' schedules became filled with ideological and paramilitary training. Moreover, purging Jewish faculty deprived German universities of valuable expertise. Within a few years, many observers in Germany and abroad became deeply skeptical about the quality of German higher education in the Third Reich. Propaganda efforts such as the Carl Schurz tour for American professors and students—documented with a slickly produced video—did not prevent protest. The 550th-anniversary celebration of Heidelberg University met with opposition in Europe, even while prominent American universities such as Harvard accepted invitations.
With the defeat of the Third Reich in 1945, Allied forces occupying Germany began a long-term effort to remove the influence of Nazi ideology in German society. Many German academics who made significant contributions to the Nazi war effort fled to the United States, where they lived comfortable lives and their expertise was highly valued by American universities and the US military. In postwar Germany, many faculty and students who had benefited from the Nazis' discriminatory policies without being especially vocal or enthusiastic supporters of the regime sought to cast their dissent or their silence as forms of political resistance to obscure their own complicity. Although many Germans denied having supported the Nazi regime, antisemitism persisted in postwar Germany. The case of Hermann Budzislawski shows the difficulties encountered by the relatively few German Jews who decided to return to Germany after World War II.
Sources in this collection document the choices facing students and faculty pursuing their everyday lives in the shadow of Nazism and the Holocaust. Over the course of this period, as antisemitic discrimination escalated to mass murder, the higher education system proved to be a source of support—rather than opposition—to the party's project of remaking German society.
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Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Part 1
[ Table of Contents | Next ]
1892 English Edition Introduction - 1
General Introduction and the History of Materialism
The present little book is, originally, part of a larger whole. About 1875, Dr. E. Dühring, privatdocent [university lecturer who formerly received fees from his students rather than a wage] at Berlin University, suddenly and rather clamorously announced his conversion to Socialism, and presented the German public not only with an elaborate Socialist theory, but also with a complete practical plan for the reorganization of society. As a matter of course, he fell foul of his predecessors; above all, he honored Marx by pouring out upon him the full vials of his wrath.
This took place about the same time when the two sections of the Socialist party in Germany — Eisenachers and Lasselleans — had just effected their fusion [at the Gotha Unification Congress], and thus obtained not only an immense increase of strength, but, was what more, the faculty of employing the whole of this strength against the common enemy. The Socialist party in Germany was fast becoming a power. But, to make it a power, the first condition was that the newly-conquered unity should not be imperilled. And Dr. Dühring openly proceeded to form around himself a sect, the nucleus of a future separate party. It, thus, became necessary to take up the gauntlet thrown down to us, and to fight out the struggle, whether we liked it or not.
This, however, though it might not be an over-difficult, was evidently a long-winded business. As is well-known, we Germans are of a terribly ponderous Gründlichkeit, radical profundity or profound radicality, whatever you may like to call it. Whenever anyone of us expounds what he considers a new doctrine, he has first to elaborate it into an all-comprising system. He has to prove that both the first principles of logic and the fundamental laws of the universe had existed from all eternity for no other purpose than to ultimately lead to this newly-discovered, crowning theory. And Dr. Dühring, in this respect, was quite up to the national mark. Nothing less than a complete "System of Philosophy", mental, moral, natural, and historical; a complete "System of Political Economy and Socialism"; and, finally, a "Critical History of Political Economy" — three big volumes in octavo, heavy extrinsically and intrinsically, three army-corps of arguments mobilized against all previous philosophers and economists in general, and against Marx in particular — in fact, an attempt at a complete "revolution in science" — these were what I should have to tackle. I had to treat of all and every possible subject, from concepts of time and space to Bimetallism; from the eternity of matter and motion, to the perishable nature of moral ideas; from Darwin's natural selection to the education of youth in a future society. Anyhow, the systematic comprehensiveness of my opponent gave me the opportunity of developing, in opposition to him, and in a more connected form than had previously been done, the views held by Marx and myself on this great variety of subjects. And that was the principal reason which made me undertake this otherwise ungrateful task.
My reply was first published in a series of articles in the Leipzig “Vorwärts”, the chief organ of the Socialist party [1], and later on as a book: "Herr Eugen Dührings Umwalzung der Wissenchaft" (Mr. E. Dühring's "Revolution in Science"), a second edition of which appeared in Zurich, 1886.
[1] Vorwärts existed in Leipzig from 1876-78, after the Gotha Unification Congress.
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wosoluver · 5 months
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Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 2/4 - previous - next
Lena Oberdorf × Reader
Lena Oberdorf Masterlist
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──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.
You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.
If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.
But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.
Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.
And the deal had been settled.
And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.
Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.
You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.
Not knowing where to start was tough. After all, besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.
You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.
You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.
You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.
"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."
"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."
"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.
"Yes, played for them first time this year."
"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.
"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.
"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."
"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."
And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.
"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.
"It's fine."
But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.
Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.
From that day on, that's what it was like.
You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.
You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.
"Morning Georgia."
"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"
"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.
"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."
"I'll try talking to her."
You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.
But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.
Lena's pov
"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." said Lea to her friend.
"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"
"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."
"See that's exactly what your doing!"
"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."
This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
reader's pov
During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.
The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.
"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.
"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."
"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"
"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.
You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.
You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.
Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.
You moved as quick as you could, into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.
"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"
You were quiet for a few minutes.
"A hug?" whispering back.
You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.
"Of course."
You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.
"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."
"Did you hear any of it?"
"Yeah."
"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."
"How old were you?"
"About eight."
"You were just a kid!"
"It's still my fault."
"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"
"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."
"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."
"Really?"
"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."
"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."
"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"
"No, I'm good, I drove here."
"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷
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billthedrake · 10 months
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I was inspired by the latest hot story by @maturedadsandmen. He gave me the blessing to write a riff on the premise. It started out as a prequel but became something else. Thanks to him for the inspiration and for the permission to let me adapt his idea.
WHAT HAPPENS IN FRANKFURT
"So, Trent..." I said as we settled into the business-class seats on the transatlantic leg of our flight. "Whadya have to promise Becky to get to come for a week?"
My friend and golf buddy shrugged. He's a big guy, 6'5", real muscular with a good deal of middle aged padding on his thick, ex-jock beef. Good thing I had scored the plush seats with my miles, because I couldn't imagine the poor guy squeezing into economy. Even now in his jeans and button-down shirt, the sight of him got me going. From the twinkle in his eyes, I could tell he was maybe feeling the same about me.
"It's not a week," he corrected.
"Pretty close," I smiled. We were flying to Frankfurt for the Chiefs-Dolphins game, but tacking on a few days in Bavaria for the typical guy-trip stuff. Beer halls and outdoors time. Stuff our wives had no interest in.
"I didn't have to promise Becky anything... what, is that something Heather expects?" he asked with genuine surprise.
I nodded. "Fuck yeah, that's something she expects," I said. "She's already planning the Napa wine trip."
Trent smiled. He had a personality that was laid back almost to the point of being taciturn, so I always found him especially handsome when he smiled.
Yeah, me and Trent have a thing. A sexual connection, an affair, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes we talk about it, sometimes we sweep the complications under the rug. But it had been a solid six months since our last time having sex and with the prospect of this trip together for six days, there was just this unspoken sexual tension between us. SOMETHING was gonna happen, all right.
"Didn't she just do that for one of her girls trips?" my friend chuckled.
Our wives got along OK but weren't close friends outside of my and Trent's bond. I was always surprised that Trent was able to keep up with my wife's doings.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Only she wants to go back with just me. You know, do something romantic. I don't even wanna know how much the cases of wine are gonna set me back."
That got a belly laugh out of my buddy. It was a running joke between us. He was the hunky ex-football player who ran his own construction company. I was the number-crunching corporate exec who admittedly had the MUCH deeper bisexual streak, to the point I carried around a lot of what-ifs in my middle age. But I was the one who was more bro-ish. Maybe I wasn't quite the sexist asshole I played up, but Trent gave me some real eye rolls from time to time.
"You can afford it, buddy," he chastised me. "And a lot fucking more."
I started to reply but he held up a finger in warning. "Don't you even pull that 'happy wife, happy life' BS." He was smirking.
"Dude... you gonna bust my balls this whole trip?"
I saw a naughty look sweep across my buddys masculine, handsome face as he leaned. "Whaddya think, Josh?"
I bit my lip and did as casual a crotch adjustment as I could. Trent had given me a full-on boner.
I knew Trent was chubbed too. It had been THAT long since we'd fooled around. Sometimes it was lack of opportunity, but my buddy likes to put the breaks on a lot. Probably for the best, since I had zero self-control, around him or in general. When I was 35 I had to vow never to go to Vegas again. This affair had a different kind of high stakes, but it felt like an extension of my addictive personality.
But my hunky buddy was pulling back now, putting in his earbud and pulling up his iPad to watch some shows he'd downloaded.
I had a book. Some stupid spy novel that let me get my mind off of work. Trent teased me for bringing the office with me, and on the first leg I'd caught up on a bunch of emails. I'd have more stuff to do in Germany, but I'd worry about that later. Trent told me I should set boundaries with my company, but hell it was my work travel that was getting us these business class seats and the hotel rooms on points and I'd probably cover the majority of our meals, too...
I took a breath and paused. I had this dickish thing where I'd enjoy treating people in my life - spoiling my wife or picking up the tab with my buddies - then I'd get resentful or controlling. I was lucky to have a travel buddy like Trent. Even if we didn't suck or fuck at all this next week. Though God knows I hope we did.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones and picked up my book.
****
"You gentlemen here for the game?" the concierge asked.
I'd booked us at a chain hotel in the old city. The guy at the desk was in the typical hotel uniform - vest and tie - and I was immediately attracted to him. Early 30s I'd guess, light brown hair, almost boyish in his handsome looks, though he had the kind of athletic build that comes with doing sports, maybe soccer, or rock climbing or something. I had a soft spot for German guys, I'll admit. They always seemed to have that boy next door thing going on, with a naughty side beneath.
Or maybe it was just the slightly clipped, more formal accent.
"Yes, sir," Trent said. "You got a lot of folks in town for it, I suppose." It was a trip to see my not-so-chatty buddy get all Midwest now that he was abroad.
I couldn't tell if the desk man was trying to humor us, but he replied back to Trent's small talk with a smile. "It seems so, yes."
I felt like I had to pull Trent away. He was asking for restaurant and bar recommendations, asking for the guy's first name, the whole works.
"What?" he asked, not quite annoyed as I shook my head in the elevator.
"Dude, you don't know how much I'm looking forward to a hot shower. Wash some of that jet lag off."
He seemed contrite. "You should have told me buddy. I honestly didn't think we'd get into the room early." It was nearly noon, but we were ahead of check-in time a little.
"I guess it'll be good to stretch the legs some this afternoon, get in some sun and fresh air?"
He nodded. "Looks like a nice day."
We rolled our luggage down to our rooms and entered the clean but soulless business hotel room.
"You go first," he said. "I'm gonna call Becky and let her know we're here." I knew from Trent's account that his wife was an early riser, a yoga devotee who got an early start on her day. I'd text Heather in a bit and call her later.
"Yep," I said, already pulling off my sweatshirt and kicking off my sneakers.
The shower felt good. No, it felt great. I could have stood under for much longer, but I didn't want to hold things up. I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and turned off the water. I was just as quick drying off and putting product in my hair. I took one look in the mirror. Not so bad for 46, I thought. I'd gotten into Crossfit lately and tried to eat clean, saving beer and junk food for game days or the nineteenth hole with the guys. I was shorter than Trent, 5'9" and some, even if I rounded up to 5'10" when I told people my height. Everything was looking pretty sculpted and hard and compact, and the thick blond fur on my torso was groomed and trimmed.
"You fucking narcissist," I thought. I wrapped the towel around my waist and opened the door, letting the steam out.
"Damn, that felt nice," I said to Trent. He was waiting for me, stripped down to his boxer briefs. It took me a second to realize what was in his hand, but it was a portable enema kit.
"I know you wanna hit the sights, buddy... but maybe I can clean out for you, first?" he asked. An excited glint in his eye but also some embarrassment. It had taken some convincing to get my hunky friend to bottom for me and even more sweet talking to get him to do a deeper prep. But it turns out Trent loved getting his ass eaten out, and he knew I'd go at it more freely and fervently if he was squeaky clean.
"God yes," I said. "I guess vacation starts for real, huh?" I said. Already I was chubbing beneath the towel.
He nodded with a grin, clearly excited by how easily I got turned on.
I let him do his thing while I texted Heather and answered a couple of work emails. I set down my phone and took off my towel, hanging it up in the closet. I pulled down the sheets on one of the double beds. My dick wasn't hard at first but as I lay down naked, I thought of Trent's hunky ass and meaty body. I thought of the reception guy and what it would be like to watch him and Trent go at it before I came in and fucked that German stud hard and fast from behind.
I was rock hard now. I thought of picking my phone back up and scrolling through some porn but decided I'd enjoy the more purely mental excitement I was filling. Just enjoy the moment of being in a hotel room with my good buddy and sometimes fuck buddy. For a whole week. I shut my eyes and let my sexual fantasies visualize themselves.
"Dang," I heard, snapping my eyes open. Maybe I'd been dozing some, but apparently my prick wasn't. "I never get sick of seeing that cock of yours."
I'm not huge, but I'm big, and my endowment looks bigger on my frame. I smiled and spread my legs, showing my meat off to Trent.
"OK if I suck it first?" he said, stepping up. In the big mitt of his right hand he had a small bottle of lube, which he set on the night stand.
"When have I ever said no to that?" I asked.
"Bro," Trent retorted, "You're such an ass-man... you can have a one-track mind sometimes." I felt defensive and I was gonna say something, but Trent got on all fours and crawled toward me. He was such a big guy, tall and beefy, that it was never anything short of mind-blowing to see him in such a posture. Already his hand was on my quad muscle, rubbing it in a way that sent electricity right to my boner. "It's OK bud. It's a good look on you," he said in a hushed, sexy voice.
Then he leaned forward to get a closer look at my crotch. Inches away close, and I could feel his breath on my dong. Trent's brown eyes were on my dick, only flitting up to my face occasionally.
"What happens in Frankfurt, right?" he growled.
"Fuck yeah," I hissed. When I started up with my buddy, I just thought I was scratching that bisexual itch. And yeah it was naughty fun. Clearly I fantasized about other men, too. But I was coming face to face with the reality that no one turned me on so much or so effortlessly like my 52 year old friend.
His first licks were a get-reacquainted approach. It had been a while since he'd taken care of me. I sucked him too, and on a blue moon bottomed for the stud. But this is what we did the first time we fooled around, and it felt like our own private anniversary ritual.
"That's it, buddy," I hissed. Trent had that combo of not-quite-skilled and very enthusiastic that appealed to me more than I realized. Outside of my times with Trent, I'd only had dude sex a couple times behind Heather's back, and those guys were better cocksuckers. But not better, you know? They weren't Trent Grayson.
My buddy coughed some on my dick as he swallowed more. Not a gag, but a grunt that said he was fighting back that initial reflex. Instantly my fingers went to the back of his neck. "Easy, bro... you got this."
He did, too. After that initial shock, he was working more of me into his gullet, over and over, faster and faster.
"FUCK!" I gasped, my eyes wide as I watched my best bud deep throat me with silky steady mouth strokes. "Buddy... if you don't let up," I warned, my breath ragged. I normally wasn't this quick at the draw, but I hadn't gotten off the last couple of days. My balls were drawn up tight.
Trent spit me out, a satisfied smile on his face. He knew he'd done a great job.
"You been practicing?" I asked. "You haven't done THAT before," I said.
"I may have gotten a toy to work on," he admitted with a wink.
"Yeah?" I asked, my chest heaving in excitement. My dick was twitching in time with my heartbeat. "When was that, bud?"
Those brown eyes were hungry and playful and sexy as fuck. "When we booked this trip."
"And here I was worried I was gonna push up against some boundaries with you this week," I said.
Trent nodded and leaned up. He was excited all right, his medium-sized tool rock hard and wet at the tip. My buddy had a beefy build that was something shy of a dad bod, but he was real and muscled head to toe, and his size meant he carried the mid-section girth well. "You probably will," he answered honestly. "Hell, I know you well, Josh," he added.
"Yeah," I admitted. Chastised some. I was the one of us who got carried away. But this man was so incredible, body and soul.
Trent didn't seem too fazed. Or maybe the sexual heat was winning out. He turned to face away from me so I could see that broad back, that short hair cut with the gray fringe and the balding spot on top, that round daddy ass fitting a tall, athletic man.
That ass was backing up toward, the buns getting closer. Trent didn't shave down there, he somehow naturally had a smooth ass, except for deep in the crack.
"You gonna...?" I asked. Or started to ask. Already the big guy was leaning forward and spreading his legs, opening that crevice right up for my gaze. Softly furry with that neglected crinkled pucker in the center, freshly cleaned for me.
My hands were already on his butt doing the rest of the work to part the cheeks as I dove in.
"Oh god yes," Trent hissed. "I've been thinking about this... so much."
I licked softly at first. Giving some gentle kisses beween a more exploratory approach to his hole and trench. Then I gripped his ass more tightly and started drilling in. I couldn't even say I was an expert at rimming. I just loved it and went at it, hard. Slurping and sucking. Munching and tonguing. Alternating my moves in part because I just fricking loved it all.
Trent loved it too. I still think he had hang ups when it came to anal. I know I did. We were two men unwilling to relinquish what we considered the more masculine role. I'd probably put up with his misgivings this week, and he might try to break down my hesitation to bottom. We'd see. For now, though, it was clear that I was even more into eating out a male cunt than actual pussy, and Trent enjoyed the oral treatment to his hole.
Finally, I pulled back, practically growling into his spit wet trench. "Dude, I gotta be in you. Now."
I expected some pushback, but instead Trent was scrambling his big body. Moving forward and pivoting around. His prick was outright dripping now, a thin strand of clear sap swayed from his tip. I wondered how many days he'd held off from sex or jerking off.
Hurriedly he reached over and got some lube in his palm, eagerly reaching back behind. "Let me ride," he said. "It's been a while."
I nodded and rode out a deep couple of breaths while he lined my prick up to his wet buns and settled back on me.
The initial penetration stung some for him, but quickly he relaxed.
"That's nice," he muttered as he sank down a couple more inches. He got a grin on his face. "I love how hard you get, Josh."
"Jesus buddy," I hissed. I'd had to sweet talk him into barebacking a little over a year ago. Now, every time I entered him was pure bliss. Silky, warm, and drum-tight. "I'm like that everytime I'm with you."
"I know," Trent replied. "I fucking love it." He settled further back and my cock popped past the last bit of tightness. Suddenly, Trent was sitting all the way in my lap and his guts were gripping my boner in spasms.
"You good?" I asked with concern. But a little hesitant to ask, because this was all VERY good for me.
"Yep," he said. He reached down and wrapped his lubey fist around his hard on, smearing this own sap to add to the slickness. His initial strokes made his ass clench down tighter on me, then the self pleasuring helped his body relax into it.
Within a minute of settling down on me, Trent began to lift his burly body up off my dick a couple of inches, only to swivel back down.
This was the almost feminine part of our mating that Trent felt self conscious about. Working my bone with a slutty hip motion. But I'd told him that starting slower is much better for me, and it turned out to be better for Trent, letting him build up the stimulation of his prostate as we locked eyes.
Our fuck was silent now, other than the sloshy slick sounds where his ass connected to my dick and the soft bounce of the bed. Trent's a heavy man, in the mid 200s on the scale, and my dense muscle added to it, too.
I watched him get into it, watch the pleasure grow on his face. This is what surprised me with Trent. I thought sex with dudes was simply about getting my rocks off, but I loved giving this man pleasure. Giving him an orgasm. I was about to give him one now.
"You're getting close," he said in his deep gravely voice. Not a question. Trent could read it on my face, register my impending cum before I did.
"Oh yeah," I hissed. It was arriving fast now, that crest of pleasure, like an ocean swell that breaks right in front of you. My fingers gripped his hard quads, maybe a little too hard, just seconds before I felt his hot spray of semen jet onto my bare chest muscle. Then another, then another. All heavy wads of bleachy-floral seed raining onto me. I was pounding out a mammoth load from this beautiful man.
My own cock was firing now, matching Trent's in its heaviness. "Fuck!" I whimpered. Trent sometimes teased me for the way my voice would get higher pitched when I came. But our nearly simultaneous O meant we were synched in our lust and deep connection.
Finally Trent's hips slowed and he eased off. Some semen came out on the dismount but he clenched up to stop the rest as he plopped down on the spare side of the bed. The double mattress didn't hold out two big bodies easily, Trent's especially but he kind of snuggled up to me in an uncharacteristic intimacy and rested his face on my shoulder. Lazily his hands ran along my torso, smearing his own cum into my chest fur.
"You have an incredible body, Josh," he said.
My dick hadn't gone down. I was drained and not ready to fuck again or anything, but I was still pretty keyed up. I kissed his forehead. I didn't want to push the guy too far but figured he'd initiated this closeness. "Yeah?" I asked. I knew we enjoyed a physical chemistry, but Trent had never complimented me like this, even though I sometimes gushed over his body.
He ran his hand down my ripped abs. I didn't have the body of a 26 year old, but I kept my core tight and knotted.
"I've been afraid to tell you," he said.
"Really?" I asked. Trent didn't seem to be afraid of things.
"You can get a little conceited," he said, brusquely.
This was the Trent-and-Josh thing. Teasing each other. Humble guy and the corporate exec. But something about his words seemed to cut deeper. "I don't know what to say," I said softly.
He patted my stomach. "You're you, Josh. I understand ya, buddy. And I know I'm not easy to get along with." His hand drifted lower and wrapped around my cock, which was still rigid as just a minute earlier. "In all fairness, you have good reason to be conceited."
I wanted to kiss this guy, so bad, but that was against our bro code. "If I get to be too much, buddy..." I started. "Well, I just don't want this week to be weird."
Trent looked up. "It's not gonna be weird, Josh. Football... beer... hot steamy hotel sex... what more can you want?"
"Nothing, man," I growled. I enjoyed the soft touch of his hand as he explored my dick. Finally with a sigh, I spoke up, "I will absolutely fall asleep if we keep lying here... maybe get out for a bit?"
Trent didn't answer but just scooted away from our tight embrace, edging his big tall body off the bed. I watched him walk to the bathroom to clean off.
Somehow, the spell had been broken.
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magz · 7 months
Text
March 5 to March 7, 2024 update from Let's Talk Palestine (instagram channel)
March 5
• 97 Palestinians killed, 123 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours
• Israeli forces recapture 2 Palestinian women who were previously released in the November hostage exchange deal — total 11 Palestinian women and children recaptured since their release, a clear violation of the agreement
​​• WHO: 1 in 6 children under age of 2 is “acutely malnourished” in north Gaza; 16+ kids killed by starvation in past week. Israel continues to block entry & distribution of aid + attacks aid convoys & aid seekers attempting to receive what little aid reaches the north
• Journalist Mohamad Salama killed by Israeli strike in Deir el-Balah; 133 journalists killed in Gaza since Oct 7
​​🇦🇺 Australian lawyers refer Australian PM to ICC for “accessory to genocide in Gaza”, citing the halt of UNRWA funds, military aid to Israel & deploying Australian troops
• Israeli airstrike on home in southern Lebanon killed a Hezbollah fighter and 2 family members amid rising Hezbollah-Israel tensions
March 6
• 86 Palestinians killed, 113 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours
🇺🇳 UNRWA accuses Israel of detaining & torturing its staff to extract false confessions on ties to Hamas. The unpublished UNRWA report details multiple incidents of abuse incl. torture, sexual abuse & deprivation of basic needs
🇺🇸 Washington Post: US quietly approved 100+ foreign military sales to Israel since Oct 7, disclosed in a classified congress briefing. The sales bypassed public scrutiny as their value didn’t meet the threshold requiring congressional notification, yet in total they amount to a “massive transfer of firepower”
• 20 Palestinians killed by starvation from malnutrition & dehydration, while Israel continues to block aid + attacking aid seekers, injuring 8 in Gaza City
🇨🇦 Canada was meant to announce its reinstatement of funding to UNRWA on March 6, but last minute decided to cancel the press conference. Leaving this decision unconfirmed. Canada was originally planned to announce they would resume UNRWA funding with a scheduled payment of $25m for April. Canada was one of the first countries that followed the US in halting funding due to the unsupported allegations made by Israel in January.
March 7
🚨 SOUTH AFRICA URGENT ICJ REQUEST
South Africa has once again requested the ICJ for additional emergency measures against Israel, urging the Court “to do what is within its power to save Palestinians in Gaza from genocidal starvation.” Its previous request was denied by the Court.
This was prompted by the harrowing deterioration in Gaza since the original measures in January. Using powerful language, South Africa highlights to the Court that “Palestinian children are starving to death as a direct result of the deliberate acts and omissions of Israel.”
Underscoring that Israel is “massacring desperate, starving Palestinians seeking to obtain food for their slowly dying children,” referencing the ‘flour massacre’ that killed 118 Palestinians and injured 760.
South Africa concluded by saying it “fears this Application may be the last opportunity that this Court shall have to save the Palestinian people in Gaza.”
Read the full request here:
https://tinyurl.com/mmy9rvfx
March 7, part 2
• 83 Palestinians killed, 143 injured in Gaza in past 24 hours
🇳🇴 Norway issues official advice against any trade or business with Israeli settlements in the occupied West Bank, which risks contributing to violations of international law. This was prompted by Israel’s recent approval of permits for 3,500 new units in 3 settlements in the West Bank, the first since Oct 7. This has faced global condemnation incl. from close allies like the US & Germany + many Arab countries
• 60,000 pregnant women in Gaza suffer from dehydration, malnutrition & lack of healthcare; 5,000 women give birth every month in Gaza in extremely unsafe & unhealthy conditions
🇪🇺 EU Foreign Minister says they will probe into Israel’s compliance with human rights obligations stipulated in EU-Israel trade deal following requests from Spain & Ireland
🇪🇸🇶🇦 Spain to send $22 million + $25 million from Qatar in extra funding to UNRWA
• Israel granted access to only 6/24 aid operations to north Gaza last month
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dreamingofep · 1 year
Text
At Ease
(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Request: kinda🤭
Prompt: Today is the day Elvis comes home from the army and you’re waiting for him with open arms. He wants to show you how much he missed you. [Fem!Reader]
TW: Cussing, teasing/ tension, SMUTTT, oral sex, fingering, the usual really dirty stuff.
Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)
Word Count: 5K
A/N: Hello everyone!
I love some army Elvis and he looks way too damn good to not write about him! Like who gave him the fucking right I hate it. This idea came with the help of @loving-elvis when we noticed how beautiful he looked in this interview and what fun could be had on that desk🤭 I purposefully put that bottom left picture on here for good reasons 🫣 Thank you @cryingabtab for the title name🩷
Again this man has me weak, I’ll never get over him so I hope you enjoy this little one shot and let me know what you think!
I also mentioned earlier that I'm also posting my fics on Ao3 so you can read my stuff there too if you want! The link is on my masterlist. Thank you again❤️
Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.
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March 7th, 1960
Excited nerves rattled your body as you waited for the white gates to open to Graceland. These last two years have felt like a lifetime since the last time you saw Elvis. He left your life in such an abrupt fashion and you couldn’t believe they shipped him off to Germany so quickly. 
You had only been seeing each other for a few months before he was shipped off so it wasn’t a serious relationship by any means. You both did have a really nice connection though. One that was so easy you didn’t need to think about being a certain way with him or do anything that you didn’t feel was right. He just had this presence that calmed you, but also left you on edge with a tingly sensation running down your spine. 
He was just as heartbroken about the news of the draft as you were. His career was taking off and he was doing what he loved. Couldn’t help but feel he was cheated of the opportunity to do more, but he’s coming back home today and you know he’s going to make a big impact with whatever he does next. 
On his last day here in Memphis, you clung to his shoulders, not wanting him to go so soon. You had hope that things could go further with him but the draft might spoil those chances. 
“When I come back, if you don’t already have a man takin’ care of ya, will you be here waiting for me?” His voice cracking with emotion. 
You gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to memorize how they look into yours. 
“Yes honey, I’ll be here,” you whisper. 
He cracks that crooked smile you love so much and kisses you passionately, flames building inside you. His hands squeeze your hips, pulling you in closer to his warm body. You feel your heart gallop in your chest, your body wanting him like never before. But it’s all too late, and the wonder of what could have been will haunt your dreams for the next two years. He pulls away and looks at you breathlessly. 
“If you want, will you be good for me? Stay untouched and everything,” he asks innocently with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 
You nod your head, squeezing his hand assuredly. 
Within these last two years, no guy has caught your eye, not the way Elvis Presley does. Your friends would set you up on dates with some guys but they always fell short compared to Elvis.
His daddy let you know a few days before that Elvis was coming home and he wanted you there if you weren’t busy. You were thrilled Elvis told him about you, giving you a glint of hope that he still has feelings for you. You knew you were playing a dangerous game though. Elvis could have found a new love in Germany and forgot all about you or he might want you again. 
The white gates slowly open and the black Cadillac makes its way up the winding driveway. Everyone that gathered on the steps of Graceland buzzed with excitement to get a glimpse of Elvis after all this time. 
The back door opens and out comes that tall, blue-eyed boy you’ve missed so much. He was wearing all black, his tan chest peeking out from his dress shirt that was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. A gold medallion hung from his neck and he flashed that million-dollar smile you had seen so many times in newspapers and magazines. His hair perfectly styled and drooping down onto his forehead when he moved. You couldn’t imagine a better looking man.
He gets rushed with hugs and kisses from his family members and you can’t help but feel the excitement grow inside you to get a hug from him next. His eyes dart up to meet yours standing there on the stoop of the entryway and he looks at you in awe. He politely parts from everyone and makes a beeline to you standing there. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering places on your body longer than he normally would and it makes you blush. Elvis bites his lower lip as he smiles and shakes his head at you, “well goddamn. Aren’t you the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he gushes. He wraps his arms around your torso and picks you up, giving you a big hug. You can’t help but squeal as he squeezes the air out of you. You giggle as you breathe again and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and sets you back on the ground, taking another look at you. 
“Is it possible you got more handsome?” You ask coyly. He grins down at you, not letting go of your waist. There’s an intense heat radiating through him, his eyes boring holes into your entire body.
“No honey I’m still just me. You on the other hand… my God you look so gorgeous. I really missed you,” he smiles. 
You can’t help but reach for his face, caressing it with your thumb, and look into those mesmerizing eyes. 
“I missed you too Elvis,” you say shyly. 
He reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. He looks back to the crowd forming and pulls you into the house, closing the door hoping no one will notice his absence. 
“Where are we going?” you say in a hushed whisper as he’s pulling you swiftly to the back of the house. 
“Away from everyone. I just want a second with ya before I get bombarded with people,” he says as he opens the back door and rushes into the back office outside. He closes the door and the stillness of the office brings a chill to you. Not only that, but the way Elvis feels around you is something you hadn’t experienced before. He feels so comforting and at the same time, dangerous? You can’t really put a finger on what it is but something has changed about him. And it’s not necessarily a bad thing either, it’s just overwhelming and makes you want to sink to your knees. The confidence that he carried now shined through him like never before. When he left, he was still trying to figure himself out, the fame blinded him and he was still a little shy kid from Tupelo. But now, the confidence he carries is so… attractive. You don’t want to get away from him.
Elvis’ hands find your waist once more and pulls you in to hug you, leaning down his face into the crook of your neck. A chill forms all over his body as his skin touches yours. 
More… your body screams. 
Your brain races a million miles per second and you try to calm yourself down. 
He sighs softly and looks back at you, almost unsure of what to say. 
“I’m so glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want anyone else waiting for me,” he coos, tucking your hair behind your ear, showing your face to him. 
“I wouldn’t have missed it, honey. It’s been too long,” you say, your hand snaking up to his soft hair. 
A new tension forms in the room and your heart pounds because of it. There’s a dangerous glint in his eye the more he looks at you. A look of want? Need? No, lust. Raging, burning, lust when he stares at you. He parts his lips and subtly licks them, his eyes looking like they’re intoxicated. 
“Baby?” He murmurs. 
“Hmm,” you say dreamily. 
“I need to kiss you,” he says as his breathing starts to hitch. 
Your hands grab onto the front of his shirt and pull him in closer. 
“Well what are you waiting for,” you whisper, pulling him into you and reaching up to kiss him. 
His soft lush lips press into yours and you could swear this is what heaven feels like. He breathes in deeply as he goes for another kiss, heat coming off of him in abundance. Your hand wanders over his chest, feeling the soft little hairs that lay there. His lips continue to devour yours, putting his hand on the back of your neck, making a soft airy moan slip from your lips as he deepens the kiss. 
Elvis likes this response from you, letting a moan of his own come out and he pushes his hips into your body. Your heart dances wildly, relishing in this new sensation he’s giving you, feeling his member grow hard with need. You gasp when you feel his bulge and your core begins to throb. 
You look up at him breathless, needing more of him but not too sure what to do next. 
“Oh honey,” he mutters, his hands grappling at your dress, scrunching up the pretty tulle fabric. 
“Elvis… I-I-I want you… you feel good,” you stutter out. 
A cute coy smile appears across his face. 
“You feel even better baby.” He says cutely. 
He walks you back toward the desk, lifting you up and sitting you down on the cold surface. He steps in between your legs, causing you to spread them apart more than you normally would. 
“Baby uh,” he stammers. 
“What honey?” 
“Have you been good? Staying a good little girl for me?” He asks. Heat rushes to your core as you realize what he’s asking of you. 
“Mhmm, yes honey. Been on my best behavior,” you assure. 
A little smirk forms on his face and he grabs a hand full of your dress up, moving it above your knee and stopping there. 
“Can I see? Can I feel how good you’ve been?” He says low, his voice dripping with temptation. 
Wetness pools in your panties and there’s nothing more enticing than having Elvis touch you. You want it so bad it feels like you can’t breathe properly without his skin on yours. 
“Yes, you can touch me,” you squeak out. 
He lifts your dress up higher, exposing your white cotton panties that now had a wet stain on them. He sees the stain and his eyebrows shoot up and he hums to himself in contentment. 
He loops his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you lift up your hips to help him get them off of you. 
You’re left exposed there on the table not sure what the state of your pussy might be looking like but based on the way it feels, it has to look a mess. He crouched down to get a better look at you, spreading open your folds with two of his fingers and seeing the wetness spilling out of you. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Someone’s been a very bad girl,” he tsks. 
Your whole body feels on edge and a bit embarrassed, but you know Elvis wouldn’t make you feel bad about this sort of thing. 
“I’ve only been bad since you drove through those gates,” you stammer. “Just the sight of you has me dying…”
“Oh I see honey… can I feel how bad… how bad this pussy needs attention” 
Your heart thumps wildly and you are so magnetized to him and his gaze. You never want him to stop looking at you like this. 
“Yes, please touch me,” you whimper. 
He leans into kiss you, his tongue entering your mouth and tangling against yours. You pull him in again by his collar and moan. He slowly pulls away, his eyes looking at you ravenously. 
Elvis places his index finger on your lips, rubbing it along your bottom lip. 
“Open your mouth and lick,” he instructs. 
Your breathing hitches and you nod your head, opening your lips apart and letting him push his finger in your mouth. You lick his long finger, swirling it like a lollipop, getting most of it wet with your saliva. You grab onto his wrist and continue the motions as he watches you intensely. A deep guttural growl comes out of him as you look up at him with pleading eyes, watching him come undone with this one small act. 
He slowly pulls his finger out, traveling down to your wet heat. His finger gets in between your slick, wet, folds and he cusses when he feels how soaked you are. He rubs it back and forth a few times, giving you a new shocking feeling and increasing the throbbing sensation that has formed there. His fingertip finds your entrance and he carefully plunges it into your core. You gasp, never having been penetrated before and unaccustomed to anything being inside you. His finger feels so long inside you and your walls hug it taught. Your mind races with the thought of what his dick could feel like inside you. If his fingers were long… surely he had something to hide in his pants. 
Elvis moans when he gets knuckle deep inside you, grabbing onto your thigh and squeezing it with his other hand. 
“Fuck honey, this pussy feels perfect. I want to be inside you so bad,” he moans, his finger curling up and pushing up against this spot inside you that could make you scream. 
“Mmm, oh god yes,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. He gives a pleased chuckle as he watches you grind more, figuring out what feels best. 
Suddenly, a group of voices start to get closer to the office and their footsteps become louder. You freeze, your heart sinking to your stomach as you don’t know what to do.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself.
He carefully pulls his finger out and licks all the slick that’s gathered on his finger. He moans when it hits his tongue and his eyes roll back slightly. 
“Mmm, taste so sweet honey. We’re gonna have to wait though, the reporters are coming, I need you to hide,” He says controlled. 
“What? Right now? Crap, where should I go?” You say in a bit of a panic. 
He pulls your dress down as the voices become louder, “get underneath the desk baby. Don’t make a sound,” he says as he leads you to the back of the desk and covers the back of your head so it doesn’t get hit. You crouch down and get in the corner of the desk, bending your knees up to your chest and try to control your breathing. 
The door bursts open and a bunch of men’s voices fill the small office. You hear camera bulbs flash and everyone trying to get Elvis' attention. 
“Elvis right here!”
“Elvis how’s it feel to be home?!” 
“Elvis turn to the left please!”
You hear his father’s voice telling them to calm down and ask questions one at a time. 
Elvis is quiet as they snap a few pictures and then he goes to sit down behind the desk. You see his legs move the chair aside and sits down, spreading his legs open and pulling his slacks up. 
You stare at how he’s sitting like he’s just teasing you in your helpless state. He leans forward on the desk, waiting for the reporters to get organized before they ask their first question. There’s little light coming through but your eyes get drawn to his crotch. There you see the outline of his hard member, pressing against his leg. You have to place your hand over your mouth from the gasp you wanted to make. He was so much longer than you could have ever anticipated and that growing need of having him inside you grew immensely. 
The throbbing grew inside you and you squeeze your legs together, needing some relief. You pray that this interview isn’t an hour long or something because you’re going to be in agony by then. Elvis starts answering questions very nonchalantly, his smooth deep voice bringing a zing to your core. His southern inflection on certain words makes your heart leap out of your chest. How can he be so sexy just doing the bare minimum?
His foot rubs against your leg, rubbing it up and down as he sits back and swivels his chair side to side answering the questions. 
Your hand snakes up his pant leg and you squeeze his calf. His leg tenses when he first feels you but then relaxes. Your fingers rub slow soft circles on his toned leg and he starts to move it. You’re not sure if he’s moving it out of nervousness or out of distraction but you can’t keep your hands off of him. 
The next question has you at attention and you stop rubbing his leg. 
“Elvis, did you find anyone special over there?”
He chuckles amused by the question, “No no I didn’t. I did meet this one girl… but it was no big love affair or anything. They just took some pictures when I was getting on the plane that’s all.”
You let out a sigh of relief, thankful he wasn’t madly in love with someone else overseas. But right now it honestly didn’t really matter, he wanted you and was wanting to make love to you and your body craves him. He scoots the chair in some more, leaning on the desk waiting for more questions. Your hand travels further up and finds his still hard length. The heat radiates off of him and it makes your mouth water. You rub it gently, up and down, feeling his body stiffen when you put more pressure. He clears his throat as he answers the next question and pushes the chair in even further under the table, giving you better access. 
His hips subtly rut into your hand and your need for him grows when he does this. You never thought you could make him feel like this but you have him all in your hand and based on how he’s moving, he’s loving it. 
You feel your wetness seep out of you and run down your leg. You were turned on like never before and needed him to pour all of his attention on you.
More…. Your body continues to scream. 
Your hands move up further until you find the button of his pants and slowly slide down the zipper. 
He puts one of his hands on his thigh and scrunches the material of his slacks in a frustrated manner. 
You make sure not to move too quickly to not give any attention to what’s happening behind the desk. Your hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard length. You press your lips together to hold make the moan you want to make as you stare at his cock. 
He was much longer than you thought and part of you is nervous to have all of that inside you, but on the other hand, you are so unbelievably horny for him, wanting him to stuff you to the hilt with it. You feel the tip of him leaking with a clear fluid. Your thumb swirls it, spreading it along his head and his hips jolt forward, making it seem like he was just adjusting in his seat. 
Your hand starts to slowly jerk him, feeling the heat of him in your palm like a hot rod. You feel so dirty for doing this but love that it’s with Elvis and it seems he’s enjoying it. Another really bad idea comes into your mind. One that you’ve only ever heard of from other girlfriends and right now, it seems like a really good idea. You want him in your mouth. 
Your heart continues to gallop, almost sure that everyone can hear it in this room. You decide to go for it, and pull back his foreskin and swirl your tongue on it. The clear fluid tastes salty but your mouth waters for more. You wrap your lips around him and put more of him in your mouth. You hear him take a deep breath in as he answers the last question and try to maintain his calm stature. 
Your wetness continues to pool more and the throbbing becomes almost insatiable. You try to not make any noise with your mouth but it is difficult. You have to take it slow and based on Elvis’ hip motions, he’s liking it. 
The reporters thank Elvis for his time and people start to file out. A few of them hang back trying to get another question in but his daddy escorts them out and informs them the interview is done. 
“Daddy, please let me be alone in here. Don’t let anyone in. I need a moment to myself,” He says calmly as your mouth takes more of him. You hear his audible gasp and clear his throat again. 
“Sure son, no problem,” He assures. 
The click of the door closes and Elvis stays still, making sure no one is going to come in. He moves his hips away from you and you release his length from your mouth. He stands up and swiftly goes to the door, turning the top bolt. You hear his footsteps come around the desk and he pushes the chair away from it. He reaches his hand underneath the desk and finds your arm and pulls you out from underneath. 
He has fire in his eyes and looks so unbelievably intense. Taking the back of his forearm, he wipes the desk off clean. Papers fluttered into the ground and paperweights made a loud thud when they hit the carpet. 
He picks you up underneath your arms and sits you down firmly on the desk. Your eyes wander down to his open slacks and see his length in a better light. You softly moan when you see it, veins protruding from his shaft and the head of it peeking from his foreskin, red and glistening with your spit. 
He places his hand on your chin, making you look up into his eyes. 
“Jesus Christ woman, look what you’ve done to me,” his head shoots down to look at his length. He doesn’t let your head move and you just have to wait for what he wants to do next. 
“That stuff you were doing was very bad… I liked it a bit too much,” he says devilishly. 
“Oh yeah? I wasn’t sure but… I’m glad you did. I really liked it too,” you say timidly. 
His hands squeeze your thighs, spreading your legs open and pulling up your dress to rest his cock on your folds. You gasp at the sensation and he moans deeply. He takes his cock in his hand to rub the tip of it on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp and claw at his arm, cussing underneath your breath. 
“God you’re so wet honey,” he groans as his length gathers more of your arousal on him. He watches you intently, seeing how your eyes cannot be taken away from his length. He chuckles inwardly and continues to tease you. 
“You see something you like?” He asks deviously. 
Your breathing quickens as you continue to watch him rub his length through your folds. 
“Y-y-yes Elvis I umm… oh God,” you pant, letting these euphoric feelings wash over your body. 
“What baby, what is it? Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he tantalizes. 
You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your cheeks turn scarlet with what you’re about to say. “I just… umm… I didn’t expect you to be so… so big,” you mutter, looking back up into his eyes. 
A soft smirk forms on his face, “it’s gonna feel even better inside you,” he coos. “Are you ready for me? You want me to take care of you?” 
Your head feels like you’re on a cloud and drunk on him at the same time. 
“Yes please,” you mewl. 
He pulls your dress up off your body and pushes you back on the desk to have you lie down. The cold surface hits your back and sends chills through you as Elvis looms over you. His hands squeeze your breasts and another bolt of lightning travels through your body to your core. 
He lines himself up and pushes the tip in, making you cry out. He grunts when he tries to put more inside of you. 
“Fuck honey you’re so tight. You need some help taking me.” He says pulling out of you and placing two fingers on your clit and rubbing there. You let out another needy moan as he works you. He coats his two fingers in your wetness and carefully pushed them inside you. 
“Ohmygod,” you cry out and your head pops up off of the desk to watch him finger you. He curls them and feels out your fluttering walls. 
“Yes baby that’s it, keep nice and relaxed for me,” He beckons. His fingers reach places you haven’t even known about, making the slick between your legs grow even more. You begin to rut into his hand, letting your instincts take over and get the most pleasure out of it. 
He groans when he watches you, almost looking envious of his fingers with how good they’re making you feel. 
He quickly pulls them out of you and you moan with feeling so empty. 
He lines himself up again against your weeping hole and looks at you, he sees your pleading eyes wild and lust-filled. 
He pushes himself in and groans heavily, your wet heat wrapping tightly around him. You cry out for him, feeling the searing pain and pleasure filling your body. He keeps a slow pace, pushing in more of his length with each thrust. You watch as he pulls out his cock and see your wetness cover it, then get buried back inside you. It’s all too much, the sensations that he brings to you are like nothing you’ve ever experienced or thought you could experience. 
Elvis hisses as he moves faster, “goddamn honey, feeling so good. Squeezing my cock so tight already,” he slurs. He grabs onto your hips and starts to drive into you like this. You moan louder, feeling the pain sear through you. 
“Elvis please,” you cry. He rubs one of his thumbs on your clit and moves it in fast circles.  
“You’re doing so good honey. Almost there,” he says as he pushes the rest of his length inside you making both of you groan. 
“Oh god Elvis yes,” you moan. Pleasure slowly starts to seep through your veins and tightens the coil in your belly. He moves his hips faster, hitting all the right places and making you feel so good. 
His face looks gorgeous like this, so concentrated on you but so lustful. He makes the most delicious noises when he takes you, grunting and panting for air as he stuffs you completely. His eyes are glued to his length going in and out of you and how each snap of his hips makes you moan even louder. 
The pain subsides and all you can feel is mind-blowing satisfaction. You sit up on your forearms to look at him fuck you, your coil tightening by the second. His hips pound into you harder, rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, bringing you closer to orgasm. 
His eyes drink you in and suddenly stop when he looks at your belly. He cusses and places his hands on your lower belly, putting a new pressure there making you feel so full. Every snap of his hips drives you wild and you’re so close to screaming his name. 
“Look baby, look how deep I am inside ya,” he grunts breathlessly. He lifts his hand and you can see the poking of his head pushing up on your lower abdomen. You moan deeply, unable to take much more. The squelching coming from between your legs makes Elvis take you faster, wanting to take you to the edge. 
“Fuck Elvis, that’s so good,” you gasp, placing your own hand on your belly to feel him inside you. 
He growls, too far gone with lust raging through him, “Oh honey, takin’ me so good. You’re gonna make me cum,” he groans. 
He leans down to suck on your breast, licking and biting at your nipples. Your walls flutter and you know you’re going to cum. He sees the panic and pounds into you harder, almost knocking the wind out of you.
“Come on baby, let yourself go,” he pleads.
You throw your head back and scream for him as your walls squeeze around his girth. Your entire body radiates with pleasure and you can’t catch your breath with how he’s taking you. 
He moans your name too, barely able to contain himself while he’s inside you.
“Goddamn baby, I need to cum…” he grunts through his teeth, his hips becoming sporadic and his strides uneven.
He abruptly pulls out of you and jerks his cock in his hand. You watch as white-hot spurts come shooting out of him and into your belly. You watch in awe as he comes undone in front of you, probably one of the single most hottest things you had ever seen in your life. The way his eyebrows furrow together and opens his mouth before letting out the most satisfying-sounding moan you’ve ever heard.
Elvis pants over you, wiping the sweat from his brow and leaning onto the desk with one hand. You look up at him in a daze, unable to comprehend what has happened within this last hour. Your body feels weak yet floating on a cloud. You have no idea sex could be that good let alone it being your first time. Those famous hips put in the work and left you breathless. You look down at the pool of his arousal sitting on your belly, and back up to him.
“Was that okay for you honey? Did I do a good job?” He asks innocently. You nod your head yes quickly, almost laughing that he even had to ask you that. 
“Oh yeah honey, you were… God I have no idea what to say, It was so damn good,” you gush.
A smile forms on his face as he looks at your body again, “Good baby, I loved it too. I couldn’t get enough,” he teases, wiping your belly off with a tissue.
“Well umm… I’m free for the rest of the day…. If you decided you wanted some more of me,” you tease.
He lets out a little chuckle and his eyes light up, “I might just have to take you up on that,” he coos.
Tagging 🖤: @powerofelvis @plasticfantasticlOver @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo
@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen
@18Ikpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7
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mxjackparker · 2 months
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Here are some snippets from Working Guys: A Transmasculine Sex Worker Anthology, by some of the amazing contributors to it! (Warning, many of the links to social media may be NSFW.)
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"I suspect its raw erotic power is why conservatives and reactionaries work so hard to repress or legislate BDSM away, as well as other sexual cultures of liberated consenting adults coming together for pleasure’s (or profit’s) sake." by @MisterSaulDom
"For me, these doubly marginalised existences are intertwined and inseparable and feed into a larger drive to be as loud as I can about who I am: queer, trans, gay, and a sex worker, and I wouldn’t change any of it." by @EdFTMxxx
"I had been on testosterone for almost two years and built myself a small business. Sure, I’m a sex worker, but it’s stable and profitable. Those are the only things that are supposed to matter. My doctor has other thoughts." by @Mx_Dagger
"Sex workers like me struggle because trans and black people are suppressed and not recognized or respected in the sex industry. There are less opportunities. The fetishization of trans individuals is not something to sleep on, either." by @DaddyPuppy101
"As a transgender sex worker, I must continually be an activist for my own right to exist. I am continuously told that neither my body nor what I do with my body are acceptable in society." by @TripleXTransMan
"I hope my Trans Dad status grows into more than just a persona I use to sell porn. While 39 isn’t particularly old, I came out 24 years ago, much longer than most trans mascs I meet today." by @RonBeastlyXXX
"When I first started working, I had already come out as non-binary; however, I was still working under the guise of a cis woman. Coming from a Middle Eastern country, I had never considered any other possibilities until I migrated to Germany." by Arc D.
"I cannot discuss my medical transition without mentioning being a hooker. At every stage, selling sex has been integral to my ability to access transition care." by me, Jack Parker.
"My lips were overlined with a mocha colour, filled in with a gorgeous, rich sparkling gloss. My base was glowy, highlighter and blush stretching up my cheeks and my freckles individually relined with a brown eyeliner pencil. I felt beautiful. Enough to make anyone’s sexuality be me." by Felix Mufti.
Want to get yourself a copy? You can get an e-book now, or pre-order a paperback book, here!
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