#chartered flights for weddings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

realcube · 5 months ago

Text

PERFORMANCE ENHANCER (18+)

synopsis : while in paris for the 2024 summer olympics, ushijima is advised that ejaculation releases stress and hence boosts athleticism. so, the night before his match, he asks for your help.

tws/tags : ts! ushiwaka, cursing, vaginal, riding, size kink, creampie, oral (giving), rough sex, slight hair pulling, petnames, praise — minors dni!

note : this is for the summer olympics collab by @tetzoro. tysm for allowing me to join <3 fyi studies differ but it is mostly shown that sex has no significant impact on athleticism. also smut is labelled if you want to cut to it lol — wc: 6k

it was never a question as to whether or not ushijima would qualify for the olympics; you knew for certain he was going to be on that team, so the only query that ever crossed your mind was when should you start packing?

usually that kind of mindset leads to disaster and disappoint, but in this case you were right to make that assumption because next thing you knew, you and ushijima were on a chartered flight straight to france, along with the rest of the japanese volleyball team.

you were excited to explore paris — the city of love — with your husband. although you were well aware that this was far from your honeymoon, and in fact more like a business trip for ushijima. hence, training will occupy most of his schedule, and any downtime he may have, he'll likely spend with his long-distance best friend tendou, who you both haven't seen since your wedding two years ago.

having made peace with this fact, you hung around on the main street, poking around in some luxury stores while ushijima visited the chocolaterie tendou works at. his friend was aware that he qualified for the olypmics and would be coming to paris, but it was still astounding to see ushijima walk through the front door of his shop, in the flesh.

with a massive grin, they hug and catch up with each other, discussing all the new things that have happened in their lives since they last saw other. well, tendou did most of the talking, but ushijima did make a couple of brief contributions about his thriving marriage and volleyball career.

"so," tendou hums with his elbow propped up on the table and his chin resting on his knuckles, "how are you feeling about your match against argentina?" he quirks a brow.

"good."

despite his curt response and dry demeanour, tendou can tell simply by ushijima's subtle mannerisms that there is something weighing on his mind. "oh, c'mon, mr perfect. let's get deep!" he urges, and ushijima knits his brows in thought.

what he's experiencing is so complex and foreign, he can't quite put a finger on it. he needs a couple of moments to find a way to describe it. "stressed. representing japan in an international tournament is a lot of pressure." he's been under pressure before though and prospered, so he doesn't understand why this is any different.

"huh, who would've thought? the almighty super ace of the century is finally feelin' the heat?" tendou exaggerates his syllables and narrows his eyes to look at ushiwaka with an amused expression, but all he gets is blank stare in return, so he continues, "well, you've got no chance of winning if you're nervous, that's for sure."

he says it so nonchalantly, it causes ushijima to falter, "what?" of course, that's not his desired outcome, and tendou seems to know what he is talking about, so wakatoshi asks, "what can i do to win?"

"not lose." tendou titters to himself, but ushijima's piercing stare persists. "you need to release the stress! free yourself of all your worldly doubts. luckily for you, my good friend, i know how you can do that."

"how?" ushijima is quick to respond.

tendou smirks and leans across the table until his face is inches away from ushijima's. "you need to beat it."

"beat what?"

"masturbate!" tendou yells, accompanied with an exasperated sigh, as he falls back into his chair. despite how they were having this conversation in the back of the store, tendou exclaimed that word loud enough to cause some customers browsing in the front to tilt their heads. "when you finish, not only does it it release sperm, but it also lets out all your pent-up fears and worries."

ushijima raises an eyebrow in doubt, which prompts tendou to elaborate, "also, when you orgasm, hormones pump through your body that kill all the stress chemicals. that's why it feels so good!"

seeing that ushijima is still suspicious, tendou throws his arms up in defeat, "fine! don't believe me if you want, but just know this information was told to me by a reliable and knowledgeable source: shirabu."

"shirabu kenjirō?"

when tendou hums in agreement, ushijima takes a moment to reflect. last he heard, shirabu is a medical student, studying to become a doctor, and they don't let just anyone into med school. additionally, biology and health is in shirabu's realm of expertise, so it would make sense for ushijima to take his advice.

with a nod of resounding certainty, ushijima declares proudly, "okay. i will masturbate."

"great. glad i could help." tendou grins, leaning his cheek onto his hand, "but you don't have to do it yourself. that was just an example. you should do whatever will make you finish—..."

tendou's voice trails off as he searches for the right word, "hardest. so in your case, that might not be masturbating. i mean, you've got a real pretty wife."

though he wasn't keen on tendou calling you 'real pretty' in that suggestive tone, ushijima kept that comment inside, and instead said, "i think i know what you meant."

tendou wishes he could just leave the conversation at that and move on, but knowing his thick-skulled friend, he had to confirm, "what do i mean?"

"my wife should masturbate on my behalf."

"no!"

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

eventually, ushijima may have understood what tendou was talking about. he was still sceptical about the whole thing but as the game grew closer and closer, he found himself becoming desperate for any solution to cure his volleyball nerves.

so, once the night before his match arrived, he figured there was no harm in trying.

you had just come out of the bathroom with your hair down and dripping, and your salacious body clad only in a short towel that didn't leave very much to the imagination; as your tits were threatening to escape with every movement you made, and the bottom of your perky ass was just peeking out. he watches intently from the bed. it's as though you knew what he had planned.

and perhaps you did, considering how he urged you to get in the shower as soon as the two of you got home from your excursions. due to the fact that he has a very strict sleeping schedule and needs to be in bed by 22 at the latest, which means you guys need to start having sex by 21. he lasts a while.

"(y/n)." the simple act of uttering your name in his husky voice already has you scrambling over to him, kneeling beside him on the covers.

"yes?" you respond with a cute twinkle in your eyes. ever doting and caring: one of the many things he loves about you.

"i am stressed for the game against argentina tomorrow."

you frown, already had the inkling that something was bothering him. "i'm sorry, toshi." you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him as you stroke his muscular chest, "it's completely normal to feel that way, especially since you'll be competing against your archenemy: tōru oikawa."

he isn't sure what you mean by that — him and oikawa are on decent terms — but he enjoys your comforting words so he allows you to witter on without interruption.

"i'm also sorry that you felt as though you couldn't tell me this sooner; we could've done something about it. still, if there's anything i can do to help now, just say the word."

"sex." he responds plainly, taking your request literally.

"huh?" you stutter, unsure if you heard him correctly.

naturally, ushijima misinterprets your confusion and takes the opportunity to explain what he was told, "tendou and shirabu said that ejaculation let outs tension, so i would like your help with that. tendou mentioned that i could do it on my own, but i would prefer to do it with you."

your jaw hung open and your eyes darted across your husband's face, unsure of what to address first: his sweet desire to make love to you on such a special night, or his impressive use of the word 'ejaculation'.

clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, tasting his minty breath, before squealing, "yes, of course we can!" you throw one leg around him so you are now straddling his lap. he smiles at your sweet reaction and places a strong hand your waist to hold you in place.

while running your hands reassuringly over his arms and admiring his toned biceps, you pout, "oh but toshi, we can't have you waking up all sore in the morning." you point out, however it's as though a solution to your problem occurs to you instantly as you blurt out, with wide eyes and a cheery smile, "but that's okay! i can just ride you, yeah?" you eagerly tease him by grinding your hips against his already throbbing erection.

using his grip on you, he puts a swift end to your antics, and your whole body is no match for the strength in his right arm alone. "that sounds like a lot of effort." ushijima was aware of how long he can go for, and it left him exhausted most of the time, so he can't imagine how you would feel after doing all the work for such an extended period of time. you were just his precious wife after all, deserving of being spoiled and catered for — in bed or otherwise — so riding wasn't an act he ever expected from you.

"it will be, but it's only for one night and i'd do anything for you." he reassure him while laying against his chest, as his hand stroked your back. with your ear pressed against him, you could hear the faint drumming of his heartbeat.

so selfless too, another thing he loved about you. he smiled when you leaned into his embrace, carefully running his hand up and down your spine, as though you were the most fragile thing he's ever touched and may shatter at any moment.

"thank you, my angel."

oh, this man is horny. typically he only calls you nicknames when he is fucked out. even then, they were mostly limited to 'dear' or 'honey'. not that you minded, hearing him call you by your real name was hot, also the scarcity made the times when he did call you petnames all the more sweet.

so to hear him call you 'angel' before you've even started is very telling as to how badly he needs you. more than he lets on, that's for sure. such a stoic man; even after years of being together, you still find it difficult to read him sometimes, but the way he hardens underneath you is unmistakable.

[NSFW]

wearing nothing underneath the robe, you grind down against his clothed cock and he almost winces at the warmth of your bare pussy. so sensitive that he can feel every curve and dip of your needy cunt, and he revels at how your folds kiss his firm length.

in order to supress his bubbling moans, he hurriedly locks lips with you, fixing his hand onto your back so he can pull you closer. the passion from your lips against his is addicting and the heat of your body against his just feels so right. he wants nothing more than for you to melt into him so you can become one.

though he doesn't like how he can't feel your pretty tits pressed against him, only the fluffy fabric of your robe. his hands find their way to your shoulders, where he roughly tugs off your robe in one swift motion, casting it to the side.

the fiery kiss only ends when you gasp at the sudden chilliness that washes over you. the cold is combatted by ushijima's strong embrace as he holds your delicate figure against his own. it's nice to be his strong arms, it makes you feel so secure and you fit into him perfectly.

meanwhile, ushijima is focused on the lewd sensation of your tits squished against him. being able to feel your hard nipples poke him through the thin fabric of his shirt made it difficult to resist flipping you over and fucking you from behind, with one hand messily tangled in your hair while it hits it raw. like he usually does.

his kisses trail from your cheeks, across your jaw and down your neck. naturally, at that point you pull away from his embrace so he can continue lower, until he had your bud locked between his teeth. sucking and flicking it with his tongue while his hand worked at fondling your other tit, slowly falling so he was caressing your waist.

now that you've retracted, you take this opportunity to tug at the elastic of his shorts, pulling at it just enough for his aching erection to spring free. you've experienced ushijima's size before, but it's still baffling every time you see it. how a nice girl like you could take a monster like him.

drool pricked at the corner of your lips at the sight of girth, admiring the beast in your hands. ushijima stopped sucking on your tits when he realised you had let out his cock, and he couldn't help but smirk as he watched you idly toy with it while staring intently.

his poor angel. he knew how nervous you could get sometimes before taking him and he wasn't one to rush you, so he sat in comfortable silence, admiring your gorgeous figure and stroking your hip with his thumb. though the more he looked at you, the more he longed to dive right back into your tits and have another taste. or push you onto your back and explore between your thighs with his mouth.

though his raging fantasies were interrupted as you finally take his cock. not into your pussy, but rather, your mouth. that wasn't what ushijima was expecting, but he'd never complain. not when it comes to your head. how the warmth of your mouth consumed him, and your tongue licked seductively down his shaft. of course, you were never able to take his whole length but that's not your fault; most amateurs couldn't. and he preferred it like this, actually. he liked seeing you with your cheeks puffed out — his coarse fingers brushing your stray hair away from your face so he could witness every lewd detail — and watching you struggle to deepthroat him, coughing and spluttering whenever you'd try. just a reminder of how diligent you are when it comes to pleasuring him.

a layer of your spit shines on his cock, coating him so nicely, as you continue to suck him off. your movements are slow but thorough, gripping him with his lips as tightly as you can when you drag upwards, and ensuring your tongue rubs properly against the underside of his shaft. you were doing so well, as a reward you received the occasional hushed grunt from your husband.

usually this gentle approach would be the correct one, as ushijima prefers a moderate pace to begin with, that gradually builds up into a frantic, hasty one. however, today there was just something so tempting about you that he couldn't resist. maybe it was the obscene way your plump lips wrapped around his girth. or maybe it was how your glossy eyes looked to him for approval after every frivolous attempt to deepthroat. at which, he'd always flash you a brief yet kind smile, sometimes even mutter something along the lines of 'you're so cute' or 'good job, baby.'

regardless, there was an allure about you that he couldn't quite explain, but it is what triggered him to abruptly grab you by the hair and yank you off his cock and into a rough kiss. he just couldn't get enough of those gorgeous lips, and he utilised his grip on the back of your head to pull you in as close as physically possible. he wanted to feel every inch of your nude body against him.

after your initial shock to his actions, you soon melt into the kiss and move your lips rhythmically against his, allowing his tongue to slip past your defences and into your mouth. and while all your senses were saturated by the intoxicating kiss, you almost didn't notice when ushijima's other hand — that was previously groping your ass — sneaked down between your wet folds and teased the entrance of your pussy.

you moaned into the kiss at the stimulation of your needy hole, but despite your longing, you knew it wasn't right. you exit the kiss only partly, and say, virtually still upon his lips, "toshi.. don't. you need to save the energy in your arms."

"i always have energy for you." he counters, as his finger threatens to penetrate you.

"let's not risk it." you smile, pushing yourself back so you are sat upright on his lap with each leg on either side of him. aligning his cock with your hole, you notice he's still slightly damp with your spit, but not enough to make for sufficient lubricant, so you run his dick between your lips, allowing him to soak up your wetness.

he grunted at how your wet folds stroked his length, as his hand wandered up from your shoulder to your face so he could cup your cheek. "can you handle it, (y/n)? it's okay if you can't." of course he's been in you before but in the past, extensive prep is required before you can even fathom the idea of taking him. and on this occasion, you've not undergone any preparation at all. "i don't want to hurt you."

he doesn't mean to sound patronising; that's just how he expresses concern. well, maybe he does mean it a little, but that is only because the bedroom is the place where he gets to be the smart one, considering how quickly you get fucked dumb by his massive dick, unable to speak right or think straight.

"i can and i will, toshi! i was made to fit you." you whine, and you were quick to try and prove it by letting yourself relax onto his cock. however, you reacted by jolting, as the tip alone had your walls stretching and sore. you bit your bottom lip to try cope with discomfort, as your legs trembled at the strain.

"made to fit me?" he smirked, amused by your proclamation and how it was immediately followed by proof of his doubts. the way your body writhed said more than enough. "it's too much for you, sweetheart."

using the back of your hand to cover your tense expression, you shook your head, "no.. it's not." you squeak and mewl as you lower yourself on his cock, the wetness caused by the congestive sensation being just enough to make the descent bearable.

"mmph— too big, toshi." you moaned, and hearing his name fall from your lips in such a dirty manner send all his blood rushing straight to his cock. a part of him wanted to grasp your shoulders and push you all the way down to his base. but the other part knew that he'd destroy your insides if he did that. he'll have to learn to be patient; the burden of having a wife with such a tight little cunt.

your sopping pussy clamping down on him caused a lustful haze to cloud his mind, so he was barely able to choke out, "hurts?"

you nod meekly.

a shaky sigh huffs out of his nose, as he tries to deal with your gummy walls swallow the head of his cock. his eyes were fixated on where you two connect, your hips were quivering yet you had barely covered half of him. slick from your moist cunt seeped down the rest of his shaft that you had yet to take. "you don't have to." he reassured you, a big hand grazing over the silky skin of your stomach, then resting to the side of your tit while he idly thumbed your sensitive nipples.

"but i wanna." you whine, sinking down on his cock ever so slightly, but even taking a couple additional inches caused an intense abdominal pain, resulting in quiet sobs hiccupping from you. it burned and stained your body in such a delicious way. your hungry pussy gnawing at his cock was addicting, and even when it poked you in the most personal and irregular places you still couldn't get enough. in fact, it made you want to fit his whole length even more, because seeing stars is always the goal with wakatoshi.

ushijima swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat while he was admiring your pretty pussy graciously accepting more of his cock. "my beautiful girl.." he cooed at you, paying close attention to the way your face twisted in pain as you sunk further down, fighting to reach the base, although you were getting closer.

more lubricant would've been useful, perhaps it would've got you started quicker like it usually does but a small part of him enjoyed you watching you struggle a bit; it's a display of how devoted you are. "do it." he grunted.

motivated by his firm command, you keep pushing down on his cock, no matter how tough it may be. your eyes are squeezed shut and your husband's strong hand cradles your ass just as you finally made it down to his base. your breathing is already heavy so you pause for catch your breath and marinate in the sensation of his cock brushing your cervix and visibly protruding from your lower stomach.

during this time, ushijima's clutch slipping from your ass, over your folds until he was rigorously palming your throbbing clit. you recoil a bit from his arousing touch, and grumble, "arms.." referring to preserving strength for tomorrow's match.

begrudgingly, he took his hand away. a whole night of sex without putting effort into pleasuring you didn't feel right to ushijima. the way he showed affection and that he cares about you is by rubbing that puffy clit, or letting you lie down while he stood at the end of the bed and ramming into you from behind, not stopping until he had you creaming all over his fat cock. so refraining from pleasing you didn't come naturally to him.

but he must not realise the effect his dick alone has you, especially without much lube — the friction of him dragging against your clammy insides was enough to have you teetering on your first orgasm already.

once you were ready, you braced yourself by placing your hands on his chest and used your knees and arms to supports you while you slid up his length. your insides freeing from his congestion was a relief yet simultaneously so empty, it's as though you craved it as soon as each inch withdrew from you.

"gah!— toshi, feels.." your words get lost in a chorus of your own staggered moans, "s' good."

wakatoshi normally wasn't very vocal in bed at all, so it was very telling that the combination of your tight pussy and unintentional dirty-talk already had him grunting and moaning shallowly under his breath.

as he watched you lift yourself up, he pet your leg soothingly, "that's right, princess— hnn—" he caught himself and clenched his jaw before an unwelcome noise left him, "keep going."

soon you were able to build momentum and start riding him properly. it took a moment to develop a suitable rhythm and to stop your yourself from wincing every time you sunk down on him, but once your hole built more slicker and wetter, it became easier.

it's not long before you're able to glide up and down his shaft with relative ease, whimpers bubbling in your throat from the luxurious satisfaction. at first you went steady, purposefully to savour each and every delicious inch of your well endowed husband.

going at your own rate and slowly bobbing on his cock was practical for you — enough stimulation to have your knees weak already. but your unrushed method wasn't doing it for him. not to say he wasn't entirely entranced by the way your pussy devours him and rubs against his raw flesh, but he need more of you in order to cum. he wants you to be bouncing on his dick until he's completely fucked your brains out and you've milked him dry.

"(y/n)." he states, while you were leaned forward, with your arms holding yourself upright on his chest while your hips got to work in rocking against him. your head hung low because you were concentrated on riding him, and your hair partially fell into your face.

but upon hearing his stern voice, you garner enough strength to lift your head to meet his molten brown eyes. he smiles at the lewd expression painted on your face; it served as a nice reminder that even a dribble of his cock was enough to drive you mad with bliss. he could tell by your watery eyes and your flickering grin that you fucking loved it.

"(y/n)." he repeats your name, though it's more breathy this time and he glances at the place where the two of you connect when he says it then, before he looks back at you expectantly. and of course, you know exactly what to you do.

you let out a deep sigh, drop your head and hope for the best — using your knees and hips to push yourself upwards so you can drop back down onto him at a heightened pace. every time his dick pierced into you, there was a meaty stretch of your walls — a salacious ache that you never could comprehend because as soon as you experienced it, you'd immediately shoot off his cock, then sink back down onto it, over and over again.

you didn't understand what you were feeling down there but you knew for certain was good. your back arched into the filthy euphoria and moans were spilling from you like a flood. "ngh— fuck! stop.." you whine, despite how you were responsible for the sharp jolts of electricity shooting through you; and you were the one hungrily bouncing on his cock like a desperate slut. impaling yourself with his length until your legs were shuddering beneath you.

when it got so fast, the riding became sloppy, you'd hardly touch the base before you'd pull yourself up. likewise, you'd rarely reach the tip before sinking down again. but you were just too eager to pay attention to these small details. alas your movements are no longer deliberate and every buck of your hips is senseless and fuelled by pure lust and hedonism.

it got harder when you could feel your orgasm impending. the pulsing in your abdomen wracking through your entire body, tingling and making it difficult for you to keep bobbing on his cock when your stomach was on the verge of exploding and your legs were ready to give out under you.

but ushijima's intense glare on your exposed, shaking figure brought you motivation to persevere. as well as his protective hands that stroked your trembling thighs, while gazing at you with adoration and desire. he wasn't a man of many words but the way he looked at you spoke a thousand.

and these sappy eyes only faltered when your walls clenching around his dick eventually led to him being knocked over the edge and spilling his first orgasm all into your homey cunt. a raspy groan was torn out of him and his eyes flutter close while his seed pump through your insides; the thick warmth spreading through your core caused your eyes to twist shut, and force of his load pushed you off his cock.

he had made a vulgar mess of his precious girl, your little hole was dripping with cum. to be stuffed with your husband's fluid love was so filling yet comforting — and you were truly stuffed, the volume of his load replacing the mass of his cock. "thank you, babe.." you pant, head still spinning from your frantic bouncing.

"thank you." he corrected, eyes trained on you still sitting atop his flaccid cock, but it hardened with every passing second, at the sight of your pert nipples teasing him as your chest rose and fell, or your pretty lips he longed to kiss passionately. "two rounds is hard-work, dear. i'm impressed."

perhaps you were just to fucked out to count. still, you gulp to clear your dry throat and splutter, "two?"

"yes." ushijima confirmed. though strand of his hair still clung to his shining cheeks and forehead, he seemed to have overcome the post-orgasmic exhaustion already. "so there's one more left."

you groan. you should've expected this considering usually ushijima can go for upwards of four rounds, but it's different when you are doing all the work. "but 'm tired!"

"two ejaculations are recommended to get rid of all the stress." he explains, but from how you wearily hang your head and you're quick breaths, he could tell you weren't listening.

"one more, (y/n)."

"but toshi!.." you whine in retaliation.

"yes, my angel?"

you narrow your eyes at him and although he wears that big, dumb look on his face you tell he knows what he is doing. he is aware of the effect those cute nicknames have on you, especially in his deep, husky voice. how can you refuse? plus a small part of you wants to keep going anyway, and not stop until you forget your own name,

you huff out your nose and lift your hips over his tip once more — which has already fully stiffened — then abruptly drop them, taking his big length in one swift gulp. one that caused you to recoil and squeal, and even wakatoshi to gasp slightly at being enveloped by your tight insides again so fast.

it's easier to fit him this time because your hole is already drenched with his cum and your own, but his dick was still as big as it was a minute ago, and it still strained your walls— having to contort beyond their means to accommodate his girth. " toshi, shhuh.. shit— too big!" you whimper.

"not for my girl." he grunts, a firm grip on the fat of your thigh while you frantically ride him, "make it fit."

"mph, mkay.." your knuckles white as you hold onto his shirt for dear life, mustering every ounce of energy you have to keep thrusting yourself up and down on your husband's mighty cock, but every part of you gave away your exhaustion: beads of sweat budding on your forehead, shaking muscles and rapid breaths.

ushijima could tell you were struggling and that only egged him even closer orgasm. though he was kind enough to offer you some grunts of reassurance between moans. "my perfect girl, go on.."

there were moments when then the bursts of pleasure were drowned out by the futility of repeatedly bouncing on his stubborn erection but you persisted, even when your legs had virtually gone numb and your sore pussy was still being rammed into.

"can't.." you whimper, your knees now beginning to wobble with each bounce, making your position unstable until wakatoshi steadied you by the ass.

"so tight, princess. i need you to." he grits, grabbing your ass to aid you in your staggered movements, guiding you up and down on his soiled length but even then, your aching legs prevented you from riding with any real vigour, "i'm close."

despite his encouragement, you couldn't find the strength to continue and your hips gradually decreased in ferocity until you lay dejected against his chest, feebly bucking your hips while his cock stirred inside your sticky walls.

you mutters all sorts of slurred gibberish that resembled 'sorry', with your face pressed against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back.

"don't be sorry." he says, hands fixing themselves to your hips, "you're still going to help me, angel."

with his tight grip on your hips, he lifts you as though you're weightless and pushes you back down his length, all the way to base which makes you shiver as his tip intrudes your cervix. initially shocked, you gape at the determines look on your husband's face as he uses your weak body as his own little fucktoy, slamming you down on his cock over and over. but it doesn't take long for you to melt into the atmosphere and get turned on by the way he manhandles you, treating you like his personal property.

the power his strong hands hold over you is indescribable. his dick ploughs into your sopping hole at an ungodly pace — so fast and rough your tits shook and it left your limb neck nodding along with each bounce. yet all you could focus on his cock stretching out your insides, hitting all the right spots on your sensitive walls.

your hair thrashed about too, with every violent snap of ushijima's arms, and it wasn't long before the heat pooling at your core came gushing out. "tosh— hhn— 'm comi—" the words couldn't even form on your tongue completely before they were crushed and swept away in a flood of melodious moans and sobs.

as you climaxed, your back arched into him and your coated walls began to convulse around his brimming cock, which served as the catalyst to him shooting his second load into your already filthy pussy.

your tight cunt wrung him dry for every last drop, and even through his high, he held you through yours, as you twitched and screamed with pleasure in his arms from the most overwhelming and satisfying orgasm of your life. he kept you close, wrestling against his own muffled moans — they were hard to suppress when your hole clamped down on him like it never wanted to let go.

soon, the intensity had faded, and you were left lying on his chest, enjoying each other's embrace and listening to each other's heartbeat while he was buried inside you. once you both found your bearings, he looked to you for approval before easing you off his cock.

you hissed at first; the feeling of emptiness had become so oddly foreign to you. and it stung a little but it was so unbelievably worth it.

"thank you, (y/n)." wakatoshi mutters against your forehead, tickling you a bit, "i'm proud of you, and grateful to have you as my wife."

"i'm grateful for you too, wakatoshi." you muse, mind still a bit hazy, "proud of me for what?"

"for lasting so long. that must have been a lot of effort."

you scoff, idly tracing hearts on his chest with your finger, "yeah, right. i didn't even make it through the whole thing, you literally had to carry me at the end."

"that's because you're not used to it." he explains kindly, as he shifts his hand to take yours, stroking the back of it with his thumb, "but it's okay. you will receive plenty of training when we go home."

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

BONUS

tw// oral (receiving)

the whole arena erupted into cheers when japan scored the final point against argentina and won the match! the audience were screaming and the players were all doing celebrations of their own — the atmosphere was simply electric and joyus.

from the stands, you looked at your boyfriend who was standing on the court, staring back at you with a cute little smile on his face. or at least, that's what it looked like from where you were sitting, so you blew him a kiss.

you later realised that it was probably a devious smirk, as that was the moment when the ejacultion hypothesis was confirmed, and he was probably thinking about the new pre-game ritual that had been established.

it's useful though. think of it like this: whenever he has a match, you also get some training!

but of course, you would only agree to take part in this 'pre-game ritual' if certain criteria were met. meaning that after every game, ushijima has to dick you down good and bury his head between your legs, eating you out for minimum ten minutes (twenty if he wins).

#ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima imagine #haikyuu ushijima #wakatoshi x reader #ushiwaka x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu time skip

987 notes · View notes

goldsbitch · 8 months ago

Text

Our wedding

Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.

A dream wedding.

Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.

A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.

Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.

That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.

It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.

Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?

"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.

"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.

"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.

"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.

"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?

"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"

Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.

"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."

"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."

"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.

"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.

Her eyes just went wide at that point.

"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.

And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"

Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."

"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.

He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."

Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.

"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.

Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."

Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.

She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.

"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.

"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.

Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.

"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.

He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."

Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.

"Right. At least we have that in common."

There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.

"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.

He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."

Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.

All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."

They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"

She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."

The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."

"What do you mean?"

Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."

The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"

Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."

It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"

"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."

The weight of the past weeks was lifted.

"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.

"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."

"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."

"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.

"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."

It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.

"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.

He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."

"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."

"That's my girl!"

They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

576 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 8 months ago

Text

Can I Ask You A Question?

Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Alina has lots of questions about her new job and your boss. Meanwhile, Aleksander has an important question for you - it just takes him some time to realise it.

Warnings [18+]: brief smut, fingering, references to sex, CEO x assistant trope, praise kink

Read part one -> HERE

My Masterlist

“Why is he so nice to you?”

“Who?”

“Aleksander.” When you breathe out a soft laugh, shaking your head at Alina’s question, she leans closer, as if she’s willing you to understand. “Today, he obliterated a designer for picking out the wrong purse.”

“That wrong purse delayed the photoshoot by almost an hour,” you reason.

She tilts her head, clearly waiting for an explanation - why does the infamously fierce Aleksander Morozov have a soft spot for you?

Sighing quietly, you look down at your drink, fidgeting with the stem of your glass.

“I��ve worked for Aleksander for a long time.”

She waits for more.

“I started off in your position - his second assistant. Nina was his first assistant at the time, and I felt like I would never be able to impress him. The first time he really noticed me was the night before his and Luda’s third wedding anniversary.”

“He’s married?”

A frown creases at your brows.

“Not anymore. The divorce was years ago. It made the headlines for days. How do you not-” You shake your head. Just because you know everything that goes on in Aleksander’s life doesn’t mean everyone else does. “Never mind. Nina had taken the night off for a date. I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s no such thing as a night off when you work for Aleksander.”

Alina nods in agreement.

“A storm came in while he was in Ketterdam, which stopped him from getting on his flight home. No planes were flying in or out of the city.”

“What did you do?”

“Everything I could. I called in a favour with Nikolai, to borrow one of his private jets. Paid for it to land at a private airfield in the Kerch countryside. They managed to charter his flight to Balakriev and I drove two hours to pick him up myself when his usual driver didn’t respond to my calls.”

“And?”

You smile softly.

“He made it home for their anniversary. The last anniversary they had before the divorce.”

“Why did they split up?”

“There was always love in their marriage, but they didn’t understand each other. Aleksander loves his job. He always will. If his partner can’t understand that, the relationship won’t last.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s the Morozov rule?” The sound of Alina’s question draws your attention away from the email you’re in the midst of writing. She looks away shyly when you meet her eyes. “Some girls were talking about it in the bathroom earlier.”

Gaze skimming back over the screen of your laptop, you breathe out a quiet scoff.

“Let me guess, the heart-eyed interns?”

She nods.

“A lot of the fashion elites have a specific rule,” you explain. “It’s partially fashion advice, partially PR to make them more memorable.” You click send on your email, changing window to examine Aleksander’s schedule for tomorrow. “Like the Chanel rule - take a look at yourself before you leave the house and remove one item of your outfit.”

Alina listens intently.

“The Morozov rule is to always make sure your underwear matches your shoes. Because at the end of the day, when you take off your dress or your suit that’s all you’ll be wearing.”

A smirk twists at your lips.

“So, if you’re ever wondering what colour underwear Aleksander is wearing, just take a look at his shoes.”

Alina blushes.

“Really?”

“Of course. What kind of a man is he if he doesn’t follow his own rule?”

“How do you know he-”

The sound of Aleksander’s voice rings out from the door to his office, cutting through your conversation with Alina.

“Milaya.”

Responding immediately to your summons, you stand from your desk and make your way into his office. He glances up at you from his papers momentarily, a frown creasing between his brows as his gaze returns to the words in front of him.

“I don’t have anything to wear for my trip to Novyi Zem.” He holds out his credit card, balanced between two of his slim fingers. “I will need enough for six nights. Look at the itinerary for the trip and purchase anything you deem necessary. You know what I like.”

After taking the card from him, you nod.

“Yes, sir. I will be back before your meeting with Nikolai.”

Turning on your heel, you move back towards the door, only for his voice to stop you.

“And milaya?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Miss Starkova. If she’s going to gain any sense of style for herself she needs to see someone competent at work.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him. Like everyone in the fashion industry, you live for Aleksander’s praise.

The hint of a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“As you always do.”

His remark makes your stomach flip.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s this?”

Alina peers into the black garment bag curiously.

“A dress. For you. It’s Valentino. One of Aleksander’s picks for the gala.”

She blinks at you in surprise.

“I’m going to the gala?”

You nod.

“Genya will help you get ready. We leave at seven.”

It isn’t long before Aleksander is settling his hand on your lower back, steering the two of you through the crowd at the entrance. Alina looks relieved at the sight of your arrival - you can only imagine how worried she was being surrounded by the flurry of photographers.

As the gala begins, Aleksander claims a corner of the room for himself, waiting for the designers and reporters and politicians to come to him.

Whenever someone approaches your group, you turn your face towards Aleksander, hiding your words in the crook of his neck as you inform him of the names of the people heading his way. His fingers play with the seam of your dress, dancing distractedly down your spine.

Occasionally, you find yourself adjusting the collar of his shirt, fixing the position of his tie, or smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. Just to keep your hands occupied. Unlike a usual gala, where you would be standing one pace behind him, Aleksander keeps you on his arm tonight. Deep down, you know it’s because he doesn’t have a plus one, but it makes you feel special nonetheless.

It’s only once you step out of the little bubble Aleksander always creates, that you stop enjoying yourself. As you place your drinks order at the bar, you attract the attention of Malyen Oretsev - a mediocre journalist - and his friends.

“There she is,” he remarks. “Morozov’s favourite pet.”

Mikhael smirks.

“I don’t know about that, Mal.” He jerks his head towards Aleksander. “Looks like he’s got a shiny new toy to play with.”

Glancing over, you see Alina looking at Aleksander rather bashfully as they seem to be engaged in a somewhat stilted conversation. The sight makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Have a nice evening,” you state casually, collecting your drinks before you head back in the direction of Aleksander and Alina.

All night, you try your best to ignore Mikhael’s words, but it seems they’ve burrowed their way into your psyche.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Why can’t I give him the book?”

Alina peers curiously at the book, as you turn the pages slowly to show her the magazine mockups for next month’s issue.

“Aleksander is very selective about who he allows into his house.” Alina seems mildly offended and you decide to soften the blow slightly by adding, “Besides, he usually likes to do a final run through so that he can brief me on tomorrow’s agenda.”

Towards the end of the month, during the final stages of development for the next publication, you usually find yourself working late at Aleksander’s house. Over the years, there’s been countless times when you’ve helped him rework an entire issue in a matter of hours, pouring your ideas together over his kitchen table.

Luckily, this month has been somewhat smooth sailing. Though that doesn’t mean your to-do list isn’t still a mile long. When you’re alone with Aleksander like this, the persona he’s created for himself loosens and he’s patient as you ask him enough questions to be prepared for the day ahead of you tomorrow.

“Anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head, remarking as you bend your neck from side to side,

“All I need now is a hot bath.”

“Use mine,” he states, not even looking up at you as he finishes filing away the pages into the book. “Stay the night.”

“What?”

He raises a brow at you.

“You ought to know by now that I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I- Are you sure?” He gives you a firm look and heat rushes to your cheeks. “Sorry, stupid question. Thank you.”

He shows you into his personal bathroom, a lavish en-suite connected to his bedroom by a wooden folding door. He’s blasé about his toiletries, opening a cupboard to show you before he retreats back into his bedroom.

Once the bath is full of water and a copious amount of bubbles, you slip out of your clothing and into the tub with your hair and makeup still intact. The warmth makes you sigh softly, closing your eyes as you tilt your head back against the rim of the bath. It’s only the sound of the door opening that makes you open your eyes again.

Aleksander stands in the open doorway, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up haphazardly and the buttons undone down to the centre of his chest. His gaze is heated as his eyes remain locked on yours, and despite the intensity you don’t shy away from him.

He circles around the bath tub slowly, his knuckles tracing the curve of your neck when he finally stands behind you.

His thumbs press into the centre of your back, working on the tension in the muscles that no amount of stretching can ease. He moves his hands knowingly, finding the areas that give you the most discomfort after long hours at the office. When he presses the right spot, your back arches, your body pliant in his hold as you breathe out a soft moan.

He smirks, cocky in the fact that he knows only his touch can bring you this sort of relief. His smirk fades slightly, as his focus shifts and he traces his fingers up your back, stroking over your shoulders.

He presses his face against your cheek, his lips brushing over your skin as he breathes in the scent of his soap. Tantalisingly close to a kiss. Then he sinks onto his knees, his hands descending beneath the water.

Turning your head, you’re face to face with Aleksander, your nose brushing against his as he draws a slow line down your body, between the valley of your breasts before he circles your navel.

“May I?” he murmurs.

“Please, Aleksander.”

With one hand, he grasps the back of your neck to limit your squirming, while the other descends downwards to play with your cunt. It’s slow and deliberate, the way he works you up towards your orgasm. The only sound in the room is your breathy gasps and the subtle splash of bath water against the sides of the tub.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined what Aleksander might be like in bed. You know you aren’t alone in that. The rumours all paint him in the same light. Dominant. Controlling. Mildly sadistic. That’s what makes the praises that fall from his lips all the more effective.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs directly into the crook of your neck. His voice is a soft and soothing rasp. “You’re doing so well for me.” He smiles when you gasp loudly, writhing with unabashed pleasure. “Utterly perfect.”

His words fade away, until all you can hear is the hurried beat of your heart hammering away in your chest as you come astonishingly close to your release.

“Please, Aleksander. I need it. Need you, oh, fuck-”

He rests his hand on the rim of the tub, palm upwards as he anticipates the sudden backwards motion of your head when you reach your climax. As pleasure courses through your body, his hand curls around to cradle the back of your head. He’s silent, eyeing you attentively as the aftereffects slowly wind down.

“Aleksander?” you whisper.

His thumb strokes down the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He regards you seriously, his eyes flickering over your features, then he nods. Before you can lean upwards to kiss him, he adds,

“If you do, I won’t be able to stop myself from climbing into this bath to take this further.”

“And if I don’t want you to stop yourself?”

He grips the nape of your neck, directing your mouth to meet his.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Do I have to?” Alina whines, hiding her face with her hands in embarrassment at the thought of heading a few floors down to the lingerie photoshoot to retrieve the file of images taken today.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure her. “Aleksander wants to look at the photos before the models go home for the day.”

“Can’t the photographers just email them to him?”

You shake your head.

“He likes to look at the printouts.”

She sighs.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

She returns with red cheeks, gripping the paper folder tightly in her hands. She doesn’t make eye contact with you as she walks by your desk to give the folder to Aleksander. Almost as soon as she sits down at her desk opposite you, Aleksander calls for you.

“Milaya.”

Alina busies herself with typing as you walk by her, into Aleksander’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d like your opinion on something.” He selects a page, turning it over in his hand so that he’s offering it to you. “What do you think of this?”

Taking the page in hand, you look down at the two images, side by side. The first is a close up of a model wearing an unbelievably expensive bralette.

Pale blue boning, covered in a soft mesh a few shades lighter. The entire garment has been decorated with intricate embroidery, adorned in pearls and tiny gems that create the illusion of flowers. The image beside it shows off the matching thong - a tiny triangle of fabric embellished with the same exquisite details.

“The photos?”

He shakes his head.

“The outfit. Would you wear something like this?”

Heat spreads over your cheeks at his question.

“I would. It’s very pretty.”

“Do you like the colour?” he asks, selecting another page to show you. “Or do you prefer the pink?”

After considering both pieces, you admit quietly,

“I like the blue.”

He hums.

“Very well.” He holds out his hand expectingly and you place the pages back in his palm. “Your measurements haven’t changed have they?”

His question makes your brows scrunch together in confusion.

“No, sir.”

“The designer is creating a custom piece as a gift for me. Offering it to anyone else in this building but you would be a waste.”

“A waste?”

He nods, not looking up at you.

“That’s all.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What’s wrong?” Alina asks you.

She must have noticed your anxious fidgeting; you’ve straightened the same pen on your desk four times already. But you can’t tell her what is actually on your mind.

“Nothing. I’m just keeping an eye on the time. Aleksander’s driver should be arriving soon.”

Sure enough, your phone rings and Aleksander’s driver is on the line, informing you that he’s parked outside the building. Once you’ve retrieved Aleksander, you accompany him down in the elevator.

He lists a few tasks for you to complete while he is out at his meeting and you distractedly make a note of them all. It’s only once the two of you are out in the fresh air, that you’re able to speak.

“I need to talk to you.” He doesn’t turn, ignoring you until you grasp at his sleeve, just as he reaches his car. “Aleksander.”

He turns to face you.

“What is it?”

Instantly, the weight of his eyes makes you nervous. Of course, you’ve thought about what you want to say to him but now the words fail you. The Aleksander in front of you now is different from the one you were with the other night.

“It’s about that night at your house,” you clarify. “I don’t want any special treatment because of what happened between us.”

He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Special treatment?” he repeats.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the set you offered me, but I don’t want anyone to think you’re favouring me.”

“Tell me about the designer of that piece.”

“She’s a Ravkan designer. All her work is couture, with hand stitched embroidery and embellishments. The pearls and gems are all sourced sustainably; she limits her collection to only forty pieces per style to minimise the environmental impact…”

When you realise how much you’re talking - about things that Aleksander most likely knows already - your words trail off into nothing. His mouth quirks into a half-smile that he quickly smoothes out into a more neutral expression.

“You are the one of the few people who understand the value of that design,” he says in a low voice. “And that is the only reason I wanted you to have it.”

“The only reason?” you repeat, hoping that he might have wanted you to have the lingerie because you would look good in it.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he glances down at the front of your top, eyeing the skin on show there briefly before he turns away, leaving you in shock as he climbs into his car. Did Aleksander just eye up your cleavage?

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Are those new?”

Alina’s question makes you peer down at your shoes - the object of her attention - and you smile.

“Yes. They are.”

The pale blue of your shoes are an almost perfect match to the lingerie set Aleksander had gifted to you - not to mention the heels are adorned in shimmering gems and pearls.

Alina takes the time to admire them, as the two of you stand beside the printer.

“Miss Starkova,” Aleksander calls out, standing in the doorway between his office and the one you share with Alina. “I need ten scarves from Gucci, and fetch my coffee on your way back in.”

Alina glances at you momentarily, wide eyed, before she nods resolutely.

“Yes, sir.”

There’s an anxious edge to her movements as she grabs her phone and bag, but she seems determined to adhere to Aleksander’s demands on her own this time. Both you and Aleksander watch her leave.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander’s gaze is sweeping down your body, assessing your outfit as he always does, yet he lingers on your shoes for a moment. His throat bobs lightly as he swallows, his eyes darkening as they meet yours.

“A perfect match,” he observes.

Before you can respond, he turns and walks back into his office.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where have you been?” Alina asks, shifting her weight anxiously on the pavement.

Cheeks flushing with warmth, you wipe at your lower lip with your thumb to ensure your makeup is still intact. The two of you head up the steps, into the entrance of Cartier.

“The car got caught in traffic.”

“Aleksander must have been furious.” You hum rather distractedly in agreement, smoothing down your skirt.

“He’s waiting in the car now, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Where are you going?” Alina asks, turning to watch as you back away down the pavement. “I thought we were celebrating.” The last night of fashion week, the pinnacle of all your hard work over the last year has been finally reached.

It’s been almost a year since Alina first started working alongside you, but you don’t yet trust her with the full truth when you answer.

“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” you tell her before adding, “I’m exhausted.”

“Do you want me to walk with you?”

Shaking your head, you tuck your coat tighter around your body.

“I’ll be fine, thanks. Go enjoy yourself.”

When you finally reach your hotel bed, you collapse onto the mattress, still wearing your coat and shoes. It’s completely unintentional, the way you fall asleep draped over the bed.

After an indeterminable amount of time passes, a kiss is pressed to your cheek, rousing you from your slumber as someone nestles themselves over your body.

“Hello there, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice coos playfully. Blinking the drowsiness from your eyes, you murmur a mildly bemused response,

“Sasha?”

He laughs softly.

“Who else, milaya?” He presses another kiss to your cheek, his lips moving toward your ear. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I stuck my head in the study,” you explain sleepily. “You were working… didn’t want to disturb you.”

He slips your coat off your shoulders, lowering kisses across your neck and collarbones as he reaches for the zipper on the back of your dress.

“You should have. I would have come to bed hours ago had I known you were back.”

“I’m so tired,” you murmur as your eyelids droop. Aleksander smiles fondly, pulling your dress down your body.

“You outdid yourself this year.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of your mouth. Aleksander lifts himself off the bed, crossing the room towards the en-suite. “The Starkova girl has improved,” he states, wringing out a cloth. “You seem to like this one.”

“I do,” you confirm, kicking your shoes off onto the floor. “She’s nice, though she’s been asking a lot of questions lately.”

“About us?”

“About you, mostly. I think she has a crush.”

“Poor girl,” he remarks drily as he sits down beside you and begins to wipe the makeup from your face. “Have you told her about us?”

“I thought you wanted this to be a secret?”

He shakes his head.

“I want to keep you safe. From the press and the gossip that follows me. Besides, I know how much you love working for the magazine. I would hate to jeopardise that.”

“Well, I might find something that I enjoy more than working as your assistant.”

“Such as?”

The smile you give him is soft as you fidget with the creases in his trousers.

“Your wife.”

His own smile is boyish as he teases,

“That is quite the promotion you’re offering yourself.” Then his expression grows more serious. “Even as my wife, I wouldn’t expect you to give up your job - not unless you wanted to.”

That makes your smile widen, your cheeks warming at the casual tone his voice adopts when considering you as his wife.

“Besides,” he adds. “Where would I find someone as capable as you?”

“I could mentor Alina.”

He hums, unconvinced, and you laugh at the sight of his apprehension. It’s sweet, knowing you’ve taken such a root in Aleksander’s life. He trusts you, unconditionally.

“I’m not handing my notice in yet,” you tease him, before adding with a small laugh, “Unless you’re planning on proposing tonight.”

Aleksander doesn’t laugh.

“Sasha?”

The corner of his lips quirk with the hint of a laugh, embarrassment touching at his features.

“I-” He sighs, shaking his head as his smile widens. “You’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Sasha,” you repeat, thoroughly caught off guard. “You’re not serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“Aleksander, I’m not wearing any makeup. I’m in my underwear.”

He doesn’t look impressed by your protests.

“Milaya, if you’re finished making rather obvious statements, I’d like to propose to you.”

The look he gives you has your lips pressing closed, giving him the chance to speak. Almost immediately, your excitement spills over your expression - a giddy smile tugging at your lips. Aleksander smiles fondly, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he admires you.

“I can’t believe you used to hide this from me. My pretty girl.”

“Well, dating the Aleksander Morozov was rather daunting at first,” you admit bashfully. He tilts his head at you.

“And do you think you can marry the Aleksander Morozov?”

Being married to Aleksander will attract attention - the kind that you’re unused to. The entire world will have something to say about you - what you wear, how you act - it will all be scrutinised by the tabloids and the social media comments. But he’s worth it, a million times over.

“I will if he actually asks me,” you remark teasingly.

He breathes out a laugh, kissing your cheek.

“Let me fetch the ring.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

498 notes · View notes

vintagelasvegas · 3 months ago

Text

Hacienda Hotel & Casino '56-'96

‘55: National Corp (Frank Hofues, president) builds the hotel under the name Lady Luck.

‘56: Hacienda is the name by Spring when licenses are issued to Casino Operations Inc; the hotel will be operated by Hacienda Inc; Warren “Doc” Bailey chairman of both groups. The bar, dining room and half of the hotel rooms opened in summer. Full opening of Hacienda on 10/17/56. The resort is the casino & six wings (7 buildings), 266 guest rooms. Rissman & Rissman Associates is the architect of the original and all later additions.

‘58: Two south wings added.

‘62: Hacienda's chartered planes, flights operating since the late 50s, ordered halted by Civil Aeronautics Board.

‘63: Go-kart track addition.

‘64: West wing addition. Doc Bayley dies 12/26/64.

‘65: Judy Bayley becomes chairman of the board of the Hacienda Inc and Casino Operations Inc in Jan., the first woman owner/operator of a major Las Vegas casino. Second sign, different horse & rider designed by Buzz Leming, YESCO, first seen 10/65. Another sign, same size or close, at the airport.

‘71: J. Bayley dies 12/31/71. Calvin Magleby is appointed president of Hacienda in early ‘72.

‘73: Bought by Las Vegas Hacienda Inc (Eugene French, Allen Glick, Paul Lowden, etc.).

‘74: RV park added; removal of go-kart track. Argent Corp (Glick) becomes controlling partner of Hacienda.

‘75: Third sign.

‘77: Paul Lowden becomes primary owner, operator of the Hacienda.

‘78: Little Church of the West wedding chapel moved to the Hacienda.

‘80: Tower addition, 11-floor, 300 rooms, opened around Oct.

‘90: Tower expansion (south of the first tower).

‘95: Sold to Circus Circus Enterprises.

‘96: Closed 12/1/96, demolished 12/31/96.

Photos: (1) Circa '56, L. F. Manis Photograph Collection (PH-00100) and circa '64, Homer Rissman Architectural Records (MS-00452), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Plans for New Hotels. Review-Journal, 1/11/55 p1; See Hacienda Opening. Review-Journal, 5/24/56; Hacienda Hotel Given License by Commission. Review-Journal, 9/21/56; Hacienda Plans Immediate Start on New Addition of 266 Rooms. Review-Journal, 8/4/57; Plan Strip Building Program. Review-Journal, 8/30/57; Mrs. Bayley Takes Over Enterprises. Review-Journal, 1/20/65; Hacienda opened in ’56. Review-Journal, 10/26/75; J. Breger. Loden wins Hacienda okay. Review-Journal, 7/30/77.

#Hacienda #1956

70 notes · View notes

brf-rumortrackinganon · 7 months ago

Note

I think M could’ve got an invite in 2019 but her bad behavior was already starting to leak out and her inability to dress properly also made designers not want to dress her and that she was pregnant

I wonder if she was angry that Archie was due then (apparently she was really overdue, but some say she was saying she was near the end in Dec at Christmas… some say Archie was born Feb or Mar) and took attention away from her

I just don’t understand the whole fiasco about the birth and the announcement and then the birth certificate too… and then Waaah saying she was home asap after an epidural & traumatic birth?

Yeah, there are a lot of questions about Archie's birth.

I don't know if I buy the "really overdue" story. I think she was overdue, but it wouldn't have been that overdue because it would've been considered high risk since she was having a geriatric pregnancy - which is what they call any pregnancy for any woman over 35 - and going too overdue would've been even riskier, to the point where she would have been induced.

I'll give her being a few days overdue but if her due date was March, there's no way her doctors would have let her continue to carry for over a month longer.

A theory to consider: (it's easier if I write this out in bullet points so just bear with me)

Meghan and Harry insist that they didn't announce the pregnancy early, that she was already out of her first trimester when they began telling people at Eugenie's wedding. So if she's 12 weeks at Eugenie's wedding (October 12, 2018), that puts conception at the end of July and her due date around April 15.

After the pregnancy was officially announced, Meghan was papped carrying two purple binders. In the virtue-signalling and IVF worlds, two purple items means boy-girl twins. A twin pregnancy would have been due mid-March.

Then there was the too-big-too-soon belly, further contributing to the theory that it was twins.

In January, Meghan famously made her "not too long to go" comment, suggesting that the baby was due sooner, supporting the theory of a March due date for twins.

Also, I'm not sure that the palace ever followed up the "Meghan's pregnant, baby due in Spring" announcement with a second announcement stating which month the baby was expected (as they did for each of Kate's pregnancies). So Spring, in the UK, is March through May.

Around February 20th, the infamous baby shower at the Mark Hotel (i.e., where the celebs stay to get ready for the Met Gala) instead of Diana favorite The Carlyle. This is where it starts to unravel for Meghan: if she had a March due date, then there's no way any doctor would have allowed her to fly a long-haul flight that late in her pregnancy, even if it was a private charter, and most absolutely not if it was a twin pregnancy. So clearly the baby wasn't due in March and it was no longer twins. Then, all the decor at the baby shower was in light pink, suggesting Meghan was having a little girl.

May 6th, Baby Boy Archie is born. But if it's true conception was end of July with Meghan being exactly 12 weeks at Eugenie's wedding, this would put her at 3 weeks overdue and that seems really risky for a geriatric pregnancy, especially one that's being overseen by American-based healthcare at the Portland Hospital.

So here's the theory. Given the inconsistencies in Meghan's shape and the virtue-signalling with purple binders, I think she thought she was having twins and did all her homework on twins. But then they lost one of the embryos (which is normal, it happens all the time) and Meghan never adjusted her thinking or preparations and kept trying to hint at a twin pregnancy for the attention but no one realized it because of all the inconsistencies.

Anyway, all this to say, I think Archie's due date was two weeks before May 6th (given Harry's "babies change so much in two weeks" comment), which is April 22 and they just kept it quiet until Meghan felt 'presentable' enough to appear in public postpartum or the parental paperwork (because I think the UK the parents have to either adopt their baby from or get parental orders to take the baby from the surrogate, right?) was processed.

But long story short, yeah, there's so many issues with their stories of Archie's birth and so many inconsistencies from Meghan's pregnancy that it beggars belief the version presented in Spare is what really happened. (Especially because as many of the moms pointed out around here, no doctor is letting a woman with an epidural give birth in a pool. I always found that suspicous because then wouldn't the Netflix show have photos of Meghan holding newborn Archie in water? (I didn't watch the Netflix series so I don't know.))

#sussexes

50 notes · View notes

sionisjaune · 8 months ago

Note

Princess Cake (alt: Jendo) Airport/Travel AU x Forgotten First Meeting AU

[Trope mashup prompts] It was genuinely a challenge to prevent myself from writing pilot jenson/stewardess nico fucking in the airplane bathroom but by god I did it:

Jenson arrives at the tarmac at six o’ clock sharp in his flight uniform. Although it isn’t strictly necessary that he wear it, especially on private chartered flights, he knows it makes him look damn good.

The aircraft waiting for him on the runway is a sleek Bombardier, the carpeted steps already folded down and begging him to embark. It’s an aircraft he thinks he might have flown before—something about the bodywork seems familiar. These private planes get bounced between the uber rich like a fucked up custody agreement. It’s totally possible that the douchebag that owns this one bought it off of another douchebag that Jenson knows. He spares the thought no more time and drags his luggage behind him.

When he ducks inside the cabin—which is decked out like a strip club, hell yes—Jenson lays eyes on his only passenger. One Nico Rosberg-Hamilton, according to his contract. He’s sprawled across a tufted recliner, his nose buried in a sleek tablet. Jenson clears his throat.

“Is she yours?” says Jenson, gesturing vaguely around the aircraft.

Rosberg-Hamilton’s head snaps up. His nose is wrinkled and his mouth twists into a scowl, as if to convey that Jenson is embarrassing himself. He flicks back a strand of yellow-blonde hair with a manicured fingernail.

“She?” he says.

“The plane,” Jenson clarifies, planting a hand on his hip. Rosberg-Hamilton looks him up and down skeptically.

“No,” he says, sharply. “My husband’s. Soon to be ex-husband’s.”

“Yikes,” says Jenson, and immediately feels bad. “Sorry.”

Rosberg-Hamilton waves him off and returns his attention to his tablet, scrolling through what looks like a densely-worded document. Jenson cocks his head, allowing himself a better look at his passenger. In the right light, Nico almost looks familiar. Jenson gets the same feeling he did looking at the plane, like Nico is an instrument panel he’s had his hands on before.

“Say,” says Jenson. “Have we met before?”

Nico doesn’t look up. “Don’t think so,” he drawls.

Jenson shrugs and makes his way to the cockpit. He can admit to himself when his company isn’t wanted.

It’s only once he’s seated in the pilot’s chair that it hits him. Three months ago. Ibiza, after a rotten layover in South Korea. Jenson’s bender at the club Mark recommended to him on his day off. He can’t quite conjure up what happened before, but he remembers a warm mouth drooling around his cock in the men’s toilets. He remembers blue eyes glancing up at him from beneath fronded lashes. And—fucking hell—he remembers short nails biting into his bare thigh, a wedding band shining on the fourth finger.

#trope mash up prompts #princess cake #WHO is going to prompt me the more wack ass prompts from the list

31 notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 1 year ago

Text

Fake Dating AU - Part 2/3

This was nice. Nesta could manage this – a pool in the blistering heat with a book in her hand. It was the beach she did not like. The sand got everywhere. Sea salt made her hair dry and brittle. And she did not want to think about how many fish brushed past her legs.

Rather than rushing in at the last second, Nesta had opted for an earlier flight to the others since she was coming from further afield on a job. She’d finished her work up on the plane, so had a few hours of blissful silence. The others were coming much later. She knew because Feyre had asked if they wanted to travel to the airport together. That was code for Feyre needing backup managing Nyx on the lengthy flight. Whilst Nesta loved her nephew dearly, the idea of a squealing child soiling their diaper for hours beside her in a contained space did not spark any joy. Mom and dad could handle that one.

Nesta lay on a sun lounger beneath a tree that shaded everything except her legs. It was dangerous territory to get a tan two days before Elain’s wedding. She didn’t want tan lines or sun burn spoiling the photos as an everlasting memory of her pale skin being subjected to sunlight for once.

Deep into her book, a child splashed her foot. She ignored it until it happened again and again and again.

Forcing out a breath, Nesta forcibly pressed her book down beside her.

‘Do you mind?’

It wasn’t a child at all. Stood against the wall of the pool, with his forearms resting on the edge, a familiar face grinned at her. ‘I thought you were deliberately ignoring me.’

‘I was,’ Nesta sniped back.

Eris, Lucien’s eldest brother, gave her a crooked smile. ‘I thought you wanted a date for the wedding.’

‘No splashing and I’ll consider it.’

He hauled himself out of the pool and Nesta could admit that her eyes tracked the bare expanse of his chest and stomach. His body was lean, the shoulders beginning to freckle from the sun. There was something about hairy legs, slick with water, that also always drew Nesta’s attention too.

Eris pointed to the spare lounger beside her. ‘Do you mind if I move my things beside you?’

‘Sure.’

For a while, they caught up on the last few months. Eris remained a workaholic, just as she did, and his phone beeped constantly with pictures of his dogs who a generous friend was taking care of while he was at the wedding. She filled him in on her life which lasted all of two minutes. She hadn’t seen Feyre or Elain since the engagement party. Work remained hectic, taking her to every corner of the country, usually in quick succession. And that was about it.

‘Why didn’t you fly in with Lucien?’

‘He’s coming with Elain,’ explained Eris. A slight blush stole across his cheeks. ‘And my father wouldn’t be caught dead flying with the commoners so he chartered a private jet – and let’s just say I’m a little spoilt.’

'A private jet? Ugh. So spoilt. Where are your parents?’

Nesta craned her neck to sweep the various loungers for a number of red heads, but came up short.

‘He will probably burst into flame if he steps into sunlight,’ Eris said with a snort at his own joke. ‘My mother has taken him to a museum which he will also loathe. He’s already complained about the temperature. I almost think Lucien wanted it here in the hope that our father wouldn’t attend.’

For a while, Eris left Nesta to her book while he read his own. She opted for a grizzly horror whilst Eris read a philosophy book that was better suited for swatting mosquitoes. When the heat became too much, Eris leapt back into the pool and did a couple of lengths.

‘You are beginning to resemble a lobster,’ called Nesta.

His feet gave a splash as he dived under and swam back towards her. In another feat of muscle, he launched himself out of the water. Not surprising her, he shook his auburn hair like a dog.

‘Better not ruin the photos.’ A generous amount of sun cream was tipped into his hand then Eris went to work on slathering it over his body.

‘Lean forwards,’ murmured Nesta. She scooted to the edge of her lounger and rubbed the excess cream into his back where his arms couldn’t reach. ‘Turn.’

Eris did an exemplary job of keeping his amber eyes solely on her face – and no lower to her bikini top – while she gently smeared sun cream on his face. The skin on his nose was already pink.

‘Stay in the shade.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘Yes, unless you want to be glowing in the photos.’ She tapped the end of his nose.

Later on, when their stomachs began rumbling, they headed off together in pursuit of food. In the heat, Nesta wanted little more than a salad. When Eris wasn’t acting as her shield against man-child ex-boyfriends, he really was good company. Their conversation flowed easily around work and lack-of-hobbies.

‘I could do with another drink,’ she lamented, back by the pool.

She had drank what felt like gallons of water already that day since the first blast of heat when she stepped off the plane.

‘Ooh. That looks good.’ Nesta pointed to another table where a woman drank something colourful and icy from a tall, wiggly glass.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Eris.

‘No. Allow me. You paid for lunch.’

Eris swept his hand through the air as he made a short bow from his sun lounger.

After many terrible hand gestures, lots of pointing and awful attempts at a foreign language, Nesta trotted back towards him, a glass in each hand. The colours were layered like a rainbow – and she was delighted to sit beside a man who could drink something that wasn’t beer.

‘You’re sure they’re not alcoholic?’

Nesta sniffed her drink. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

‘You speak Spanish?’

‘No, I took the mocktail menu with me to the bar and pointed and made the shape of the glass. Nobody needs to hear me try and pronounce another language.’

The expression Eris wore suggested he didn’t wholly believe her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you want me to get the bartender?’

‘Then I can use my terrible Spanish to ask? I trust you.’

Eris leaned forwards from his sun lounger to knock their glasses together. Nesta did the same.

‘To the happy couple,’ she said.

Oh, it was delicious. She sucked on the straw until she gave herself brain freeze from the ice which received no sympathy from Eris.

‘Can I ask a personal question, Nesta?’

‘I can’t promise I’ll answer it.’

‘Why don’t you drink?’

Her brows raised and her vision skimmed over the shimmering waves of the pool. ‘I guess when I first moved and got involved with Cassian, drink became the every day activity. I stopped doing things I enjoyed. Spent all my time with them. Wine went down easier and easier and sleep became harder and harder.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not against ever drinking again, but once I quit drinking with them, it quickly became apparent we had nothing in common. I don’t have any friends so the option is drinking alone or not.’

Eris nodded in understanding. ‘Same here. I’ll probably have a glass of champagne tomorrow, but I was a bit of a tearaway when I was younger. Drank too much and did a lot of silly things. There needs to be a good occasion for it and I’m better at knowing when I’ve had too much now.’

As the afternoon wore on, their conversation became freer and punctuated with giggles.

‘This definitely has alcohol in.’

'It's on the mocktail menu.'

Eris leaned over her to snatch up the menu. 'And on the cocktail menu. With tequila.'

Nesta sucked the last dregs from the bottom of her glass up the straw. ‘Oops. Sorry. Sincerely.’

‘I’m drinking with a friend. It’s a celebration,’ said Eris, giving an easy shrug of his shoulders.

She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I’m your friend? What an honour!’

Despite the realisation that their fruity, rainbow drinks were not mocktails, they continued to drink. The heat made it worse. The conversation shifted from playful to the realms of discussion that Nesta would never engage in sober. They spoke of ex-lovers, positions they enjoyed in the bedroom, fantasies – inhibitions well and truly out the window as they slurped down more.

Eris closed one eye as he squinted down at the display of his watch. ‘Our dearly beloved siblings should land soon.’

Fantastic, she thought. She’d face a grilling from Cassian about why she chose to drink with Eris, but not him. Morrigan would have something to say – and Rhys too because he couldn’t help himself but pass a comment on Nesta’s life.

‘Then I am going to bed,’ she declared. Nesta pushed off from the sunbed with legs like jelly then staggered a few steps.

Eris let out a soft laugh. ‘Any more staggering and you’d have ended up in the pool. Let’s get you some food.’

He was equally unsteady, but they managed to negotiate for food and make it into the lift. They crashed into each other in the corridor. Their hips and arms bumped as they walked in unsteady lines towards Eris’ room. They collapsed onto the bed to dig into whatever had been deep fried for their meal. She licked the grease off her fingers in between shovelling in mouthfuls; Eris ate with an equal lack of grace like one starved.

When they had finished their food, the television blared out and they remained sprawled together on the bed. A cool wind swept through the open balcony doors as the sun descended for the night. Nesta’s phone flashed a couple of times with messages from Elain then Feyre quizzing on her whereabouts. She replied that an early night was needed and she’d meet them in the morning.

With food in her stomach, Nesta felt a little more sober, but whilst Eris went to shower, she raided the minibar for anything salty that she could find. Eris returned when she had a mouthful of peanuts.

‘Share.’

Nesta covered her mouth so she didn’t spray nuts across the room. ‘There’s chips too.’

‘Daddy dearest is paying the bill. Indulge.’

Nesta had never let herself loose like this, as though she had no manners. Eris didn’t seem to mind either. He was grinning from ear to ear as they sat on the bed, devouring any snack they could get their hands on. She fished in the cup of her bikini for a dropped peanut.

‘What a woman,’ purred Eris from the top of the bed where he languished with a towel around his waist.

She arched a brow. ‘Still want to be my date for this wedding?’

‘All other women are shadows compared to you, Nesta Archeron.’

Eris extended a hand to her which Nesta crawled towards. She collapsed beside him on the bed so their noses brushed. His hand cupped against her hip, drawing her another inch closer. Her fluttering heart made her giddy.

‘Kiss me, Nesta.’

Her chin raised until their lips met. There was nothing hesitant about it. The moment their lips slid over each other, Eris rolled Nesta on top of him. She felt his hardening length through the towel. Her tongue met his as their hands roved over each other’s bodies, hungry for every bare stretch of skin they could gain purchase on.

The string of her bikini was tugged loose so she peeled open the towel from his waist.

They moved down the bed, Nesta turning onto her back as Eris pulled away the last of her clothing.

‘That conversation earlier,’ he grinned. ‘I know every little thing you like.’

Her fingers wound through his auburn hair. ‘Then don’t you dare disappoint me.’

***

At the first slivers of amber light leaking through at dawn, Nesta unpeeled her limbs from Eris, gathered her clothing – a bikini, a sarong, and flip flops – then scurried out of his room.

Nobody was in the corridors, but she still had a strong sense of paranoia that somebody might catch her mid-scandal. It shouldn’t have been a scandal. Both were single and willing – and she certainly had a night like no other. Eris had definitely paid attention to what she had said over their cocktails. But this was not what Nesta Archeron did. She didn’t have one-night stands.

She threw herself into the shower, as if to wash away Eris’ scent from her body then stuck her phone into the charger and flopped onto the bed, hoping to catch a couple of hours sleep in the safety of her own room.

The knock from her sister came too sudden for Nesta, but wedding duties took priority. She tried her best to suppress the exhaustion from a long night being bent over by Elain’s future brother-in-law as she followed her sister down the corridor into her rooms. Not long later, Feyre arrived too in anticipation of a day spent together exploring before the wedding the next day.

Feyre let out a long yawn as she slumped in a chair.

‘Nyx?’ Elain asked over her shoulder at the vanity while she curled her hair.

‘I wish. For once, he slept. I don’t know how. Lucien said his oldest brother has the room next to us. I was ready to kill him last night. He was going at it all night with some floozy. The walls are so thin.’

At her spot by the window, Nesta froze. Heat crept into her cheeks. Oh no.

Elain giggled at Feyre’s admission. ‘The season of love.’

Feyre snorted. ‘It wasn’t love. It was like a pair of wild animals were banging against a wall. All night. At least do it in the bed so I don’t have to hear it.’

‘I forgot something in my room. Back in a moment.’

Nesta excused herself without waiting to hear their replies. Her face was scorching. Oh, this was awful. She really had to pick that man – and this wedding – to have her first ever one-night stand.

‘Hey, Ness.’

‘Oh, not you,’ she sighed in the hallway.

‘Miss you too.’

Cassian wore lurid pink shorts paired with a black vest. His unruly hair had been scraped back into a bun at the nape of his neck. She had forgotten how intimidating he could seem by the way he could loom over everybody.

‘Excuse me.’

Nesta tried to side-step him, but he blocked her pathway.

‘Listen, I thought we could talk. We don’t have to date but we can be friends.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

He wrung his hands together. ‘I miss you. I miss the old times.’

‘Old times? We were together six months. Look, Cassian, move. I don’t have time for this.’ She pinched her brow then barrelled past him.

This time, he let her go.

***

‘My goodness, how did you ever get your license?’

Nesta clung onto the door handle while Feyre braced herself in the back. Elain ignored her words because she was busy gritting her teeth as they rounded another sharp corner.

They had gone for a breakfast in a small town by the sea that had been recommended to them for its beauty. What the lady on the desk had neglected to tell them was that the idyllic little beachfront restaurant was at the end of one of the most difficult drives they had ever been on. The narrow, winding road was made up of sheer cliffs and dusty stones rolling into their path.

‘At least I have it,’ Elain finally said as the car rolled onto a fairly straight stretch of road.

Feyre made a disgruntled noise. ‘I’ll learn when Nyx is bigger.’

‘Nesta’s driving on the way back. You always say you are the best driver.’

She was, but not when her head was pounding from the amount of alcohol she’d downed yesterday. In response, Nesta grimaced. The car juddered along the rocky path uneasily.

‘I hope we all make it to the wedding,’ quipped Elain as another large stone slipped down from the cliff and into their path that only a harsh stamp on the brake could protect them from.

The restaurant was utterly beautiful, though perhaps not worth nearly dying for. Elain had chosen a table directly in the blazing sunlight so Nesta was powerless to agree. What the bride wanted, she got. Even if Nesta was dying inside the longer she spent in the sun.

‘You look so pale, Nesta.’

‘I’m emotional my little sister is getting married,’ she lied. ‘Oo, chilled water. Hallelujah.’

Food was a challenge. For every nibble she took, Nesta glugged down an entire glass of lemon water to stop her stomach from lurching. Neither sister seemed to notice her struggling, or at least attributed it to the heat when Elain took the floppy sunhat off her own head and plonked into Nesta’s. Feyre prattled on about her son as if he was the first child in existence while Elain babbled about how many children she wanted to have. I’d quite like a nap, she thought.

Excitement came in the form of dolphins breaching the crystalline blue waters near the restaurant. Even Nesta rose from her seat to get a better look and snap a few pictures.

‘That was amazing!’

‘Oh, I wish Nyx had seen,’ lamented Feyre as she scrolled through her photos.

Nesta did the same to see if she had managed any half-decent shots. She swiped through, zooming occasionally. The images of the sea shifted to a bare body. Her bare body. Eris' knees and something else was in the shot. When the video started playing automatically, she locked her phone quicker than she had ever managed before.

‘What was that?’

Nesta blinked. ‘I must have taken a video in my pocket on the plane.’

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Not only did she decide to have a one-night stand with Eris – but they had filmed it too? The image of herself sprawled out on the bed, a big grin on her face, with Eris kneeling between her legs flashed back into her mind. A sex tape. This was bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.

‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ murmured Elain, brown eyes catching her own.

No, just myself about to get ploughed, she thought.

Fanning herself for good measure, Nesta said, ‘I’m not used to this heat.’

Their day was busy with exploring local shops and visiting tourist hotspots. She had never sweated so much in her life which couldn’t solely be blamed on the heat. Each time they stopped so that Elain could try on clothes, Nesta bought another bottle of water to hydrate herself which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Feyre.

‘How long until you belong to the sea witch?’

She choked on a mouthful of water. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’re acting like a mermaid out of water. I didn’t know a person could drink so much water,’ she added. A wicked smile curled Feyre’s lips. ‘If you’re looking for your true love, I’ll let Cass know.’

‘I’d rather drown than ever let him touch me again.’

Feyre pouted. ‘He’s not that bad. He really regrets what happened between you two. Cass was really sad that you’d already gone to bed yesterday.’

‘Feyre, let’s get this straight. I am sweating. My armpits are like a swamp. I am hungover as shit. I am here for Elain’s wedding – not to hook up with anybody. Furthermore, I literally do not give a crap about Cassian or his feelings.’

Her sister heard one part of that. ‘Who were you drinking with last night?’

She fought hard to give an air of carelessness as she shrugged. Elain chose that moment to emerge from the dressing room in a pretty, lavender sundress. They passed on their comments about how beautiful she looked then the curtains closed again.

In a whisper, Feyre said, ‘Were you drinking alone again?’

Again. Drinking alone was considered wrong, but drinking every single night with company was permissible.

‘Feyre, what I do is my business.’

‘That’s why you had an early night, isn’t it? Because you were drinking.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Her temper never did do well when provoked – especially not in the sun. ‘Yes, I was drinking Feyre. I had a lovely time by the pool drinking cocktails. Don’t be too jealous.’

#neris #fake dating au

108 notes · View notes

brookstonalmanac · 5 months ago

Text

Holidays 7.16

Holidays

Accountant and Auditor Day (Ukraine)

Artificial Intelligence Appreciation Day

Assata Shakur Day

Atomic Bomb Day

Catcher in the Rye Day

Closet Space Appreciation Day

DC Day

Dixie Cup Day

Elderly Women Day (Kiribati)

Engineer’s Day (Honduras)

Festival of Convivial Tools

Fiesta de La Tirana (Tarapacá Region, Chile)

Guinea Pig Appreciation Day

Harela (Uttarakhand, India)

Holocaust Memorial Day (France)

International Disability Awareness Day

International Drag Day

International Juggling Day

Islamic Calendar Day

Lady of Carmen Day (Chile)

La Paz Day (Bolivia)

National Atomic Veterans Day

National Change Your Font Day

National D.R.E.S.S. Syndrome Day

National Emily Day

National Geordie Day (UK)

National Jerry Day

National Peace Day (Dia de la Paz; Bolivia)

National Stick Shift Day

National Take the Stairs Day

National Wedding Invitation Day

No Kissing Day

Order of the Arrow Day (BSA)

Parking Meter Day

Parks Day (Canada)

Reading Together Day (UK)

Rural Transit Day

716 Day

Talk to a Telemarketer Day

Tare Day (French Republic)

Trinity Test Day

Urs Shah-I-Hamdan Sahib (Kashmir, India)

Val d’hie Roundup Anniversary Day

World PR Day

World Snake Day

World Wizkid Day (Nigeria)

Food & Drink Celebrations

Fresh Spinach Day

Hot Coal Chicken Day (Peru)

Hot Dog Night

Ice Cream Cone Day

National Cherry Day (UK)

National Corn Fritter Day

National Funnel Cake Day

National Personal Chef Day [also 2.26]

Independence & Related Days

Custosia (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

La Paz Day (Bolivia)

Manu’s Cession Day (American Samoa)

Ozamiz City Charter Day (Philippines)

3rd Tuesday in July

National Children’s Book Day (Philippines) [3rd Tuesday]

Taco Tuesday [Every Tuesday]

Weekly Holidays beginning July 16 (3rd Week of July)

Prime Days (Amazon) [thru 7.17]

Festivals Beginning July 16, 2024

Beanpole Days (Pequot Lakes, Minnesota) [thru 7.17]

Fiesta Topeka (Topeka, Kansas) [thru 7.20]

Les Escales du Cargo (Arles, France) [thru 7.21]

Feast Days

Andrea del Sarto (Artology)

Asalha Puja Day (Buddhist Lent begins)

Athenogenes (Christian; Martyr)

Bobby Henderson Day (Pastafarian; Saint)

Charles Sheeler (Artology)

Day of Erzulie Dantor (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Dr. Doom Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Display of the Embarrassing Swimsuits (Church of the SubGenius)

Elembiuos (a.k.a. Clam-time; Celtic Book of Days)

Eustathius of Antioch (Christian; Saint)

Feast of the Commemoration of Our Lady of Mount Carmel (Carmelite Order; Christian)

First Sermon of Lord Buddha (Bhutan)

Flight of Muhammad (the Hegira; 622)

Fulrad (Christian; Saint)

Gergetoba (Day of Spiritual Love; Georgia)

Gondulphus of Tongeren (Christian; Saint)

Great Schism Anniversary Day (1054)

Harela (Day of Green; Hinduism)

Hejira (First Day of Islamic Calendar; 622) [original date]

Helier (a.k.a. Elier; Christian; Saint)

Immolation Day (Ancient Greece)

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (Artology)

Joshua Reynolds (Artology)

Mary Magdalen Postel (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Our Lady of Mount Carmel (Christian)

Petal-Hopping for Non-Starters (Shamanism)

Phoebe Cates Day (Humanism)

Reineldis (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Robert Sheckley (Writerism)

Rotary Doozer (Muppetism)

Saut d’Eau Waterfall Pilgrimage (Voodoo; Haiti; Everyday Wicca)

Skip This Day Day (Pastafarian)

Solstitium XI (Pagan)

Tony Kushner (Writerism)

The Troubadours (Positivist; Saint)

Vardavar (Pagan Prank Day; Armenia) [14 Weeks after Easter]

Zoot (Muppetism)

Islamic Lunar Holidays

Ashura (Islamic) [Begins at Sundown; Muharram 9-10] (a.k.a. ...

Achoura (Algeria)

Ashorra (Parts of India)

Ashoura (Lebanon)

Ashura Holiday (Afghanistan, Bahrain, Iraq, Pakistan, Somalia)

Muharram (Parts of India)

Remembrance of Muharram

Tamkharit (Senegal)

Tamxarit (Gambia)

Tasoua Hosseini (Iran)

Tasu’a

Yaum-e-Ashur (Pakistan)

Yawmul Ashura (Gambia)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Prime Number Day: 197 [45 of 72]

Premieres

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, by Diana Ross (Song; 1970)

Alice’s Restaurant Massacree, by Arlo Guthrie (Song; 1976)

Akira (Anime Film; 1988)

Ant-Man (Film; 2015)

Barney Bear and the Uninvited Pest (MGM Cartoon; 1943)

The Big Bite (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1966)

The Blair Witch Project (Film; 1999)

The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger (Novel; 1951)

Die Entführung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio), by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Opera; 1782)

Dragon Around (Disney Cartoon; 1954)

Drop Dead Gorgeous (Film; 1999)

Eyes Wide Shut (Film; 1999)

False Hare (WB LT Cartoon; 1964)

Free Willy (Film; 1993)

From Up on Poppy Hill (Studio Ghibli Animated Film; 2011)

George of the Jungle (Film; 1997)

The Half-Blood Prince, by J.K. Rowling (Novel; 2005) [Harry Potter #6]

Happy Birthdaze (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1943)

Hocus Pocus (Film; 1993)

Inception (Film; 2010)

Indian Serenade (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1937)

Lost and Foundry (Fleischer Popeye Cartoon; 1937)

The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins (Novel; 1868)

Mouse and Garden (WB LT Cartoon; 1960)

The Office Boy (Ub Iwerks Cartoon; 1932)

Once A Day, by Connie Smith (Song; 1964)

Piano Sonata, by Béla Bartók (Piano Sonata; 1927)

Poison Ivy, recorded by The Coasters (Song; 1959)

Pom Poko (Studio Ghibli Animated Film; 1994)

Punch (UK Weekly Satire Magazine; 1842)

Schmigadoon! (TV Series; 2021)

Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll (TV Series; 2015)

Space Jam: A New Legacy (Animated Film; 2021)

Space Race (Video Game; 1973)

Stargate: Atlantis (TV Series; 2004)

The Timid Pup (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1940)

Topper (Film; 1937)

What a Lion (MGM Cartoon; 1938)

Today’s Name Days

Carmen, Irmgard, Maria (Austria)

Yulian, Yuliana, Yuliya (Bulgaria)

Elvira, Karmela (Croatia)

Luboš (Czech Republic)

Tychos (Denmark)

Rein, Reinhold, Reino, Reinu, Reinut, Rinaldo, Ronald (Estonia)

Reino, Rene (Finland)

Elvire (France)

Carmen, Irmgard (Germany)

Valter (Hungary)

Maria, Vitaliano (Italy)

Hermīne, Rasulite (Latvia)

Danguolė, Faustas, Vaigaudas (Lithuania)

Sanna, Susanne (Norway)

Andrzej, Benedykt, Dziersław, Dzierżysław, Eustachiusz, Eustachy, Faust, Maria Magdalena, Marika, Ostap, Ruta, Stefan (Poland)

Drahomíra (Slovakia)

Carmen (Spain)

Reine, Reinhold (Sweden)

Ruth, Valentina, Valia (Ukraine)

Carmel, Carmela, Carmelo, Carmen, Shelby, Sherman, Sherwood (USA)

Carma, Carmel, Carmela, Carmelita, Carmella, Camelo, Carmélo, Carmen, Carmencita, Carmi, Carmie, Carmina, Carmine, Karmen, Phoebe (Universal)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 198 of 2024; 170 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of Week 29 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Tinne (Holly) [Day 10 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Xin-Wei), Day 11 (Xin-Si)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 10 Tammuz 5784

Islamic: 9 Muharram 1446

J Cal: 18 Red; Foursday [18 of 30]

Julian: 3 July 2024

Moon: 75%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 1 Dante (8th Month) [The Troubadours]

Runic Half Month: Ur (Primal Strength) [Day 8 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 27 of 94)

Week: 3rd Week of July

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 26 of 31)

Calendar Changes

Dante (Modern Epic Poetry) [Month 8 of 13; Positivist]

#Holidays

2 notes · View notes

ashleyfableblack · 2 years ago

Text

WOO-HOO! A final update on an amazing piece of art, In the artist's own words-

"I'm so excited, I've been working on them for over a year, I've moved with them like three times and it's just taken forever 😩 I thought they would never get out of the ugly phase for a minute there, but now they're here, they're queer and beautiful!"

Check out Morgan's gorgeous rendering of these lovely loving ladies vs my original ink n paper image.

So here they are 💜💚💜 My favourite couple of royal gals and the heart n soul of "The Eternal Courtship" series, Queens Twilight and Chrysalis Sparkle. A tender moment between the lovers reproduced in 3D by the fantastic "Sculptures by Morgan.

To gush over this wonderful piece for a few details I felt really stuck out and loyalty to source material-

In The Eternal Courtship, traditional, pre-Equestria pony customs for marriage vary between the tribes. A token is exchanged. Earthers wear a braid of their partners mane or trimmed fetlocks. Unicorns wear a enchanted trinket of precious metals. Pegasi wear a flight feather tied in their mane. Twi, being an Alicorn and a queen, Chryssi decided to do all three. She's an emotivore, incredibly ancient and EXTREMELY sentimental, so she tends to latch onto feelings and not let go. 😊💚👭

In the source image, the flowers and their colors represented the friends present at the wedding temple dias in the order they stood. The bronze\gold bells are Discord- the officiate, followed with Rarity, AJ, Dash, Chryssi, Twilight, Pinkie, Flutters, Starlight n Trixie.

It may seem a minor point but the pearl-white base.

Twilights idea for her reign is very different from the previous Equestria. Rather than focus on the ponies and teaching other races to think and value as they do, she plans to work with the other cultures of the lands, viewing their history, morés and worldviews as equal in worth, learning from each other. With her wife, The Diarchy plans to build a New Canterlot at the center of a Union of Allied Species, with the 3 tribes and True Changelings forming the backbone. To honor Celestia's original charter, the white light of her Equestria is the base of their crest, broken into the rainbow of light which is the varied species of the land.

Big Finish- They added LEDs. Sweet Lucy's Lady-bits. They added LEDs. 🌈💙💜💙🌈

This is just... *chefs kiss* 💋😁

SO glad to see this finally come together. 💚 If you want to snag a custom build of your own hit the sculptor up. "Sculptures by Morgan" on Facebook and Twitter.

Big love to all y'all out there. 👭💚💜💚👭

#mlpg4 #mlpfim #friendship is magic #sculptures by morgan #eternal courtship #twilight sparkle #queen chrysalis #lgbtq #love #twisalis #lesbian #my art #sculpture #ashleyfableblack #alicia van hammer

24 notes · View notes

skyjetliners01 · 1 month ago

Text

#Charter Flight for Wedding in Chandigarh

0 notes

prettymunchkin · 2 months ago

Text

Effortless business travel is key to maintaining productivity on the go. With Trade Wings, streamline your corporate trips by using integrated travel platforms to book flights, hotels, and transportation in one place. Pack light, opt for priority boarding, and use fast-track services to save time at airports. Stay connected with portable Wi-Fi, and rely on mobile travel apps to manage bookings seamlessly. Maximize comfort with hotel loyalty programs and pre-scheduled airport transfers. Use flexible flights for last-minute changes and simplify expense tracking with advanced tools. With Trade Wings, business travel becomes stress-free, efficient, and hassle-free.

1 note · View note

gregoftom · 1 year ago

Note

“his family arrive in a damn bus to his wedding”

Lol that’s probably because the Roys arranged to chartered flight from London to Aberdeen or wherever for their wedding guests and then a bus to take them from the airport to the hotel. This is very standard luxury destination wedding procedure. They didn’t like, ride to Scotland on a bus can you imagine.

okay but still. disregarding the logistics my point still stands, even if we took away that point tom is still poor compared to the roys. like, i’m not saying tom is in a bad way or anything as he actually Is middle class to start out unlike greg, i’m just saying a lot of people lose perspective of just how rich the roys are.

#i’m not trying to say tom isn’t rich at all like i wish i had half of this hoe’s cash im just saying

6 notes · View notes

newstfionline · 1 year ago

Text

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

In battleground Arizona, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. draws Biden and Trump voters (AP) Some voted for Donald Trump, others for Joe Biden. A few had never wanted anything to do with politics before they heard Robert F. Kennedy Jr. on a podcast or YouTube video. Lined up outside a Phoenix wedding hall tucked between a freeway, a railroad track and a U-Haul rental center, the hundreds of people who turned out Wednesday to hear Kennedy speak shared little in common ideologically. What united them was a deep-seated distrust of the media, of corporations and especially of the government and a belief that Kennedy is the only person in politics willing to tell them the truth. Voters are not enthusiastic about a Biden-Trump rematch, and alternatives like Kennedy or the No Labels third-party movement, which would typically be longshots, see an opening. Kennedy’s appearance in a 2024 battleground state highlights how he could influence the election in ways that are tough to predict. Allies of both Trump and Biden have expressed concerns that Kennedy’s independent bid could pull votes from their candidate in next year’s expected general election rematch.

Migrant caravan in southern Mexico marks Christmas Day by trudging onward (AP) Christmas Day meant the same as any other day for thousands of migrants walking through southern Mexico: more trudging under a hot sun. There were no presents, and Christmas Eve dinner was a sandwich, a bottle of water and a banana handed out by the Catholic church to some of the migrants in the town of Álvaro Obregón, in the southern state of Chiapas, which borders Guatemala. Migrants spent Christmas night sleeping on a scrap of cardboard or plastic stretched out under an awning or tent, or the bare ground. At around 6,000 people, the migrant caravan that set out Sunday was the largest one since June 2022, when a similarly sized group departed Tapachula.

Police in Peru dress up as Santa for festive drugs bust (The Independent) Police in Peru have been spotted carrying out a drugs raid while dressed as Santa Claus. The undercover agents caught two men allegedly selling cocaine and cannabis in a house in Huaral, just north of Lima. ‘Santa’ could be seen using a sledgehammer to break down the door of the house, before removing his beard to cuff one of the suspects.

Plane passengers held pending human trafficking inquiry leave France for India (Reuters) A plane carrying 276 Indian passengers took off on Monday for Mumbai, the French interior ministry’s local office said, after it was grounded for four days pending investigation into possible human trafficking. The flight, carried out by Romanian charter company Legend Airlines, had departed from Dubai and landed at the small Vatry airport on Thursday for a technical stopover when police intervened. Bound for Nicaragua, the flight arrived in France with 303 Indian passengers onboard. After being interrogated by police, two people investigated for human trafficking have been placed under “assisted witness” status while the investigation continues, according to the prosecutor’s office. Another 25 people, including five minors, have stayed in France where they wish to seek asylum, authorities said.

Russian naval ship in Crimea damaged in airstrike by Ukrainian forces, Russian Defense Ministry says (AP) A Russian naval ship in Crimea was damaged in an airstrike by Ukrainian forces, Russia’s Defense Ministry said Tuesday. The landing ship Novocherkassk was hit at a base in the city of Feodosia by plane-launched guided missiles, the ministry said, adding that two Ukrainian fighter jets were destroyed by anti-aircraft fire during the attack. Over the past several months, Ukrainian forces have conducted attacks around Crimea, mostly with sea drones.

China expects searing heat, more weather extremes in 2024 (Reuters) China grappling with one of its coldest Decembers on record will likely have to brace for another round of scorching heat and an increase in extreme weather next year due to the El Nino weather phenomenon, a senior climate expert said. This year has seen China lurch from some of its hottest temperatures logged since 1850 to a harsh cold snap that froze many parts of the country for close to a fortnight earlier this month. This past summer saw Beijing bake in record heat while a remote township in the country’s arid northwest logged a day of 52 degrees Celsius (126 Fahrenheit) the hottest on record for China. Typhoons also brought record-breaking rainfall in China’s north, causing widespread flooding.

Israel’s Economy Expected to Shrink 2% as War Sidelines Workers (NYT) The Israeli economy is expected to shrink by 2 percent this quarter, according to a leading research center, with hundreds of thousands of workers displaced by the war with Hamas or called up as reservists. About 20 percent of the Israeli work force was missing from the labor market in October, up from 3 percent before the fighting began, according to a report from the Taub Center for Social Policy Studies, a nonpartisan think tank in Israel. The spike in unemployment reflects the fact that about 900,000 people were called up to fight, stayed home to take care of children because schools had closed, evacuated from towns near the borders with Lebanon and Gaza or couldn’t work because of physical damage to their industries.

Lose a limb or risk death? Gaza’s wounded face hard choices (AP) The doctors gave Shaimaa Nabahin an impossible choice: lose your left leg or risk death. The 22-year-old had been hospitalized in Gaza for around a week, after her ankle was partially severed in an Israeli airstrike, when doctors told her she was suffering from blood poisoning. Nabahin chose to maximize her chances of survival, and agreed to have her leg amputated 15 centimeters (6 inches) below the knee. The decision upended life for the ambitious university student, as it has for untold others among the more than 54,500 war-wounded who faced similar gut-wrenching choices. Experts believe that in some cases, limbs could have been saved with proper treatment. But after weeks of Israel’s blistering air and ground offensive, only nine out of Gaza’s 36 hospitals are still operational. They are greatly overcrowded, offer limited treatment and lack basic equipment to perform surgeries. Many wounded are unable to reach the remaining hospitals, pinned down by Israeli bombardment and ground combat.

Saudis Keep Low Profile in Red Sea Conflict (NYT) After rebels took over the capital of Yemen in 2014, a 30-year-old Saudi prince named Mohammed bin Salman spearheaded a military intervention to rout them. With American assistance and weapons, Saudi pilots embarked on a bombing campaign called Operation Decisive Storm inside Yemen, the mountainous nation on their southern border. Officials expected to swiftly defeat the rebels, a ragtag tribal militia known as the Houthis. Instead, the prince’s forces spent years mired in a conflict that splintered into fighting between multiple armed groups, drained billions of dollars from Saudi Arabia’s coffers and helped plunge Yemen into one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises. Hundreds of thousands of people died from violence, hunger and unchecked disease. Saudi Arabia and its main partner, the United Arab Emirates, eventually scaled back their military involvement, and Saudi officials entered peace talks with the Houthis, who secured control of northern Yemen. Now, the war in Gaza has thrust the Houthis whose ideology is driven by hostility toward the United States and Israel and support for the Palestinian cause into an unlikely global spotlight. Saudi Arabia, however, would rather watch these latest developments from the sidelines, with the prospect of peace on its southern border a more appealing goal than joining an effort to stop attacks that the Houthis say are directed at Israel a state the kingdom does not officially recognize and which is widely reviled by its people.

Attack in Nigeria (Foreign Policy) At least 160 people were killed and 300 people wounded in attacks on villages in central Nigeria, local officials said Monday. Monday Kassah, head of the local government in Bokkos, Plateau State, told the AFP that armed groups locally known as bandits launched attacks on at least 20 communities. Plateau State Gov. Caleb Mutfwang condemned the violence as “barbaric, brutal, and unjustified,” and governor’s office spokesperson Gyang Bere vowed to take proactive measures to protect civilians. However, Amnesty International criticized the government following the attacks, writing on X that “the Nigerian authorities have been failing to end frequent deadly attacks on rural communities of Plateau State.”

A Thriving Border Town Undercuts South Africa’s Anti-Immigrant Mood (NYT) By 7 a.m., lines of customers snake down the block outside stores on the main commercial strip in Musina, a bustling South African border town where thousands of people arrive daily from neighboring Zimbabwe to buy food, clothes and other necessities that are hard to get back home. A few miles away, at the border, pickup trucks bearing the seal of South Africa’s newly formed border patrol inspect the razor-wire fence, looking to arrest people who cross illegally braving bandits, crocodiles and the rushing Limpopo River. The border force represents an effort by the government, months ahead of crucial national elections, to respond to popular demand and clamp down on migrants sneaking into the country. Musina, surrounded by farms and a copper mine, is where the government’s muscular immigration policy collides with a tricky reality that many South Africans are loath to concede: that even people who cross the border illegally may be good for the country. Like politicians in the United States, Europe and elsewhere who score points by promising hardened borders and mass deportation, their South African counterparts are pitching a sweeping crackdown on foreigners to appeal to voters, playing on similar, often-unfounded fears that immigrants fuel crime and steal jobs.

Pope Francis blasts the weapons industry as he makes a Christmas appeal for peace in the world (AP) Pope Francis on Monday blasted the weapons industry and its “instruments of death” that fuel wars as he made a Christmas Day appeal for peace in the world and in particular between Israel and the Palestinians. Speaking from the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica to the throngs of people below, Francis said he grieved the “abominable attack” of Hamas against southern Israel on Oct. 7 and called for the release of hostages. And he begged for an end to Israel’s military campaign in Gaza and the “appalling harvest of innocent civilians” as he called for humanitarian aid to reach those in need. Francis devoted his Christmas Day blessing to a call for peace in the world, noting that the biblical story of the birth of Christ in Bethlehem sent a message of peace. But he said that Bethlehem “is a place of sorrow and silence” this year. He took particular aim at the weapons industry, which he said was fueling the conflicts around the globe with scarcely anyone paying attention. “It should be talked about and written about, so as to bring to light the interests and the profits that move the puppet strings of war,” he said. “And how can we even speak of peace, when arms production, sales and trade are on the rise?” Francis has frequently blasted the weapons industry as “merchants of death” and has said that wars today, in Ukraine, in particular, are being used to try out new weapons or use up old stockpiles.

#headlines #news

2 notes · View notes