#so like BRAND NEW INFORMATION FOR ME ON A WEDNESDAY

[galadrielette]

👁️👄👁️

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions, Chapter 2

It's Wednesday and Dave's ready to get a little more dirty. So I bring to you Chapter 2 of my Dave York Fic.

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Series Summary: Defense intelligence conferences are always the same informative but also always boring. You didn't expect anything different for this one, but an unexpected meeting with a man named Dave York, changes the trajectory of your conference experience and maybe even more.

Pairing: Dave York X F!Reader

Rating & Warnings: Explicit (18+, MDNI!), Slow burn, sexual tension, dirty, smutty talk, masturbation, finger fucking, public sex (sort of?), Not beta'd --- any weird grammar things and tense shifts are on me.

A/N: Also thank you to my slut collective who always throw out inspiration on the daily. I love you witches. @sparklefarts38 @legendary-pink-dot @best-little-secret @basicoccult

Chapter 2: Starving

The next day of the conference wore on you like a trek through a theme park on a hot summer day.  You typically loved conferences, treating them as a mini vacation that happened to include mandatory workshops and trainings.  Learning and absorbing brand-new information was inspiring and invigorating.  Yet each new presentation you attended that day seemed to grow unbearably long. A nervous energy emanated from your body, manifesting in you through repeatedly crossing and uncrossing your legs, wiggling and bouncing your foot, and tapping your pen repeatedly on your notepad. 

A frustrated heat welled up in you as you realized your thoughts were turning to Dave. The space he was taking up in your brain was unexpected. Your watch and the slow hands of the analog clocks found in each meeting room reminded you of how far away you were from 7:30 in the evening.

When lunch time arrived everyone buzzed around you with an excited energy relieved to have a break. You grabbed a plate of salad from the complimentary lunch served to the conference attendees and searched for the quietest corner to enjoy your meal. To your disappointment, your coworker Brad found you. His plate and silverware clanked as he set it down in front of you. 

“How has your day been?” he asked, his teeth almost blinding you with how white they were. 

“I don’t know,” you answered between bites of your salad. “All the sessions just seem to be running together.”

“It’s only day two and you’re already experiencing conference fatigue?” He joked with little success, eliciting a polite smile from you. 

“It must be that time of month,” you shrugged, finishing your salad quickly. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to grab an aspirin from my room.”

Brad raised his hands, backing up slightly in his chair, squirming with discomfort. As you suspected, this made him uncomfortable enough for you to make your exit. The way the temples of your head began to throb revealed that your escape was only a half lie. You excused yourself and darted towards the elevator. Other hotel guests filed in behind you, checking in with their heavy, space-taking luggage. You backed yourself into a corner and closed your eyes, placing your fingers lightly at your temples. You shifted sideways as more people flooded in, leaving little room between yourself and the next person.

“You OK, firefly?” The gravelly whisper of a familiar voice reached your ears.

You looked up to see Dave standing before you, dangerously close. 

“Dave, hey,” you greeted, relieved to see him. “It’s just a headache.”

“You know, I have something for that,” he said and you felt him shift his weight until you felt his hip press against yours.

The throbbing of your headache dulled and you fought with yourself to hide the moan you so desperately wanted to release from your mouth. A tingling sensation tip-toed down your shoulders, stomach, and irresistibly, inconveniently down to your core. As you held each other’s gaze, you felt his smug smile drawing you in and tempting you. 

“You know what?” The satisfaction you got from challenging him was unmatched and you smiled back. “I think I can take care of it for the time being.” 

Feeling brazen and empowered, you brushed your fingertips along the side of his left pant leg, until your hand began to take hold of his hip. He knitted his brows down to glare at you, his hand meeting yours quickly to grip your wrist with one of his large, weathered hands. The way he stared you down, gripped your wrist, and shook his head indicating no without a word electrified you even more. It shot through your body from the tips of his fingers, its electricity awakening every cell in you and your heart thumping loudly in your ears. 

The elevator rocked back and forth as it moved upwards. Engrossed in each other, you barely noticed or acknowledged as the other guests left the elevator. You backed away from him a few steps, his fingers rippling open to release you from his grip. In only a matter of seconds, you knew you’d be arriving on your floor. 

“We’re still having that meeting at 7:30, correct?” He asked as he cleared his throat and as he pressed his hands to his hips.

“Still on,” you confirmed as you felt the warmth of his body heat overtake you as he stepped closer behind you. 

“Then you should save your energy,” Dave said, leaning his head close to yours, his breath caressing your ear. 

His hand gently brushed the back of your skirt, the back of his fingers just brushing your ass. The faintness of his touch was enough to leave you nearly breathless and yearning for more of it, so much that you hitched your breath with a quick gasp. 

“Noted,” you breathed, looking up at him with a nod of your head before you stepped away. 

Despite the slight dulling of your headache, you still gulped an aspirin upon returning to your hotel room. You lowered yourself to the fluffy sheets of your hotel room bed. Noting the time on the clock: 12:35 pm. It reminded you how quickly you had gulfed down your lunch just to get away from Brad. You closed your eyes, promising yourself it would only be for a moment. The ghost of Dave’s soft whisper against your ear haunting you. The power of your mind helped you to imagine his whisper as fingers traveling down your blouse to your skirt. An achy longing began to beat at your core as you thought of him. You began to slide your hand down the length of your skirt and gathered it in your hand, pulling it upwards. You drew your fingers up your thighs, walking them closer and closer to your underwear. All the while, you imagined his hand, his weathered fingers as your breath quickened. You pushed your panties to the side, sliding your fingers to your clit, feeling how your folds were coated with your slick because of him. Because of Dave. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, keeping the image of him in your brain. The memory of how his massive hand gripped your wrist, his fingers large and commanding. You let yourself imagine his hands touching you, dipping inside you, fucking you, and savoring the taste of you on his fingers while he chanted your name as he worked on you, beckoning you to come. Your orgasm crashed over your body, setting you on fire and wrapping you in warmth. You stared at the ceiling of your hotel room, letting your breath come down to a natural pace as you relaxed from your wave of pleasure. 

You stood up, pushing down your skirt. You met your reflection in the large, gold framed mirror. Your hair was disheveled and a rosy glow painted your cheeks. You gave yourself a quiet laugh, thinking wistfully of the solo activity Dave York had just inspired. Your fingers caressed the soft, silky fabric of your skirt to smooth the wrinkles as best you could. You took one last glance at your watch, realizing you had just enough time to make it downstairs for the rest of the day's presentations. You left your room letting the door close gently behind you, hoping the pace of the afternoon moved faster than the morning. Begrudgingly, you knew the specter of Dave’s touch and breathy whisper would haunt you for the remainder of the day. 

✦✦✦

Somehow, you managed to survive the day without driving yourself crazy about what awaited you at 7:30 pm. Every inclination you had was to wear the sexiest outfit you owned, but that was impossible since it was hanging in your closet at home. The only option you had was a tawny colored, form fitting sweater dress you packed. You pulled it on over your head, shimmying the fabric down your body. Its luxurious fabric hugged your curves perfectly and despite it having long sleeves it clung to your cleavage, enhancing it in the most enticing way. 

You looked at yourself in the full-length mirror, satisfied and confident in your look. Your long waves fell like a waterfall down your back, your shortest waves kissing your clavicle. Your make-up was simple and served to enhance your favorite features. You stepped into a pair of cream colored booties with a little bit of a heel, knowing it would bring attention to the little peek of leg that would reveal itself through the knee slit on the right side of your dress. You bit your lip, your reflection staring back at you with a mischievous understanding of why you brought this outfit to a professional conference. 

This is the kind of outfit that would get you fucked. 

You carried that thought with you from your room to the elevator, and downstairs towards the bar. Head turns that turned into intense gazes in your direction gifted you with even more poise and tenacity as each step you took brought you closer and closer to the bar. Your eyes skimmed the bar, searching for Dave. Taking a seat at the bar, a little fleck of disappointment turned in you when you were unable to find him. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked.

“Scotch please,” you replied, “on the rocks.”

The bartender nodded and walked away to get a few more orders before bringing you your own. A sudden burst of self-consciousness washed over you as you waited for your drink. Upon the bartender’s return, he handed you your drink along with a knowing wink and a small slip of paper. The edges were clean and folded sharply, evidence of the meticulousness of the messenger. You laughed at yourself as you opened it wondering why you hadn’t exchanged numbers with Dave. Your professional mind took over and deduced that he simply didn’t want to be tracked. You talked yourself into thinking that this made sense for someone in the intelligence field. You took a long, large sip of courage from your glass before opening the note. Small, slanted print greeted you as you did:

I’m at the far corner to the right of the bar. 

You found him with your whole body, your eyes settling over him in the dark, isolated corner. Your eyes poured over every feature of him from his clean shaven face, to his Romanesque nose, to his intensely dark brown eyes which were staring right back at you. You walked towards him, unhurried, carrying your scotch in one hand and your handbag in the other. You approached the quiet and secluded booth for two. He never lost eye contact as he stood up to greet you, taking your scotch from your hand, sipping the remainder of it, before setting it down on the table. The coldest of shivers traveled through your body as he pulled you towards him with a gentle beckoning of his hand on your elbow. The shivers left you frozen as he brought his face close to yours, kissing you lightly on the cheek until you felt his lips brush against your ear. 

“Look at you,” he growled as you closed your eyes, feeling his hand roam to your right hip, where his fingers traced the curve of it with the lightest of touches, “getting pretty just for me.” 

You parted your peachy-pink lips to respond, but for the first time in your interactions with him you found yourself speechless. The feeling was so novel as though you were being hypnotized to succumb to his words and motions. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he stated, drawing you in with his wickedly attractive grin that had imprinted itself in your brain. “There’s a place I’m going to take you, somewhere more private.”

Dave was the kind of man people would warn you about. Your closest friends would tell you that he was a walking red flag if they knew. Any level-headed woman would and should know better. And then you thought to yourself: 

Maybe I just don’t care. 

You trembled with a charged excitement moving through you and arousing every cell in your body. It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a demand. It was a simple and true statement. Both of you knew it. You would do anything he asked. 

“Ok,” you confirmed your gaze connecting indelibly to his, “take me.”

A rush of cold air bombarded you as you stepped out of the hotel. You cursed yourself, wondering why you hadn’t grabbed a coat from your room. Dave perused you up and down, admiring your figure before he took off his own thick coat and draped it around your shoulders. The unexpected, but calculated gesture made you shiver more at his touch than from the cold. After this he moved past you toward a black sedan, opening the door for you. 

Your dress stretched against your legs, giving Dave the perfect view of your right leg from the slit on the side of your dress. He followed you, joining you in the warmth of the car. Not a second had passed since you buckled yourself in and you immediately felt his immense hand slide onto your knee with a tight grip. With no knowledge of how long it would take to arrive wherever Dave was taking you, you placed your hand on top of his and began to slide his hand further up your leg. 

“You dirty, little slut,” he whispered to you with a growl, “are you gonna show me how wet you already are for me?”

“Dave,” you panted into his ear as you felt his fingers massage up your thigh, “the driver…”

From the side of your eye, you swore you could see the driver smirk when you whispered Dave’s name. Your breaths continued to quicken as his hand continued to rub up your thigh. 

“Don’t worry I pay him for discretion,” he uttered, and you could have moaned at the thought that this was all a well-executed plan. “Just give daddy one little taste.” 

You squeezed your thighs together before opening them again. His thick fingers rested on the lush skin of your inner thighs. His half-closed, ravenous eyes asked you again. 

Just one taste. 

And so, you opened for him feeling his fingers brush against the silky fabric of your underwear. You kept your eyes on him as his fingers met where the fabric had become dewy with your desire. You rolled your pelvis forward, eager, and desperate for him to do something. He raised one coy brow at you, caressing you and making the spot grow with your heat. That dangerous dimple revealed itself as he tempted you with a wanton grin. You needed more. You needed him to give you more. As soon as you moved your hand to grip his forearm, the car came to a quiet stop. You shuddered as he took his hand away from your thigh. You followed his every move as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking his fingertips. A little taste of you. 

“You taste sweet,” Dave growled, the vibrato making you quiver all the way down to your toes, “can’t wait to taste all of you.” 

Dave opened the door and reached his hand in to help you out. Once you were out of the car you used one hand to smooth out the bottom of your dress and the other to grip Dave’s jacket around your shoulders. The strong grip of his hands on your hips as he rocked his pelvis into your ass was so surprising that it made you gasp louder than the cold air meeting your bare skin.

“Fuck, Dave,” you whispered, “are you trying to kill me?” 

“Hm,” he paused in contemplation, “not if I don’t have to.” 

The two of you stood before a quaint little whiskey bar repurposed from an old Craftsman home. Globe lights danced on strings in the December air as you walked up the brick stairs. Inside, perfectly placed lights of amber and gold set the room aglow with warm luminescence and shadows. He had made a reservation. You shivered as he took his coat from your shoulders handing it to the hostess. How was he able to have this so elaborately planned? The feeling settled in your abdomen simultaneously vexing and intriguing. 

You followed the hostess to a quiet u-shaped booth situated at the back of the bar. Atop a round table made from knotted driftwood, stood a table sign with the word “reserved” written in modern calligraphy. You had barely taken your seat when a server came to your table with a bottle of Macallan rare cask and two empty whiskey glasses. 

“Wow, pulling out all the stops,” you said, mesmerized by the expensive whiskey selection that was poured into your glass right before your eyes. “You do this before you bed all your conquests?”

He grasped his chest with a feigned expression of heartbreak, “Oh if that’s all you were, I wouldn’t have wasted my time bringing you here knowing I could’ve had you begging me to come to your room the afternoon we met.” 

“And if I had wanted you there that night,” you stalled, gently biting your glossy lips, “we wouldn’t have left my room at all today.”

“And that, firefly,” he said with a tip of his glass towards yours, “is exactly why you’re more than just a conquest.”

It felt like a date but you didn’t want it to. The mess of feelings running inside you could have been easily curbed if you had just fucked him. You’d done it before, you could do it again. Fuck and forget.

“How did you get into intelligence, anyway?” He asked, relinquishing a deep sigh from you. “Because and, forgive me, you don’t seem the type.” 

“Meaning?” You furrowed your brow at the statement.

“Well, you’re hot for one thing,” he stated, provoking a laugh, “but you don’t bullshit; you’re sharp, calculating, even.”

You took a sip to ponder your response to his question.

“Well I was always good at everything computers,” you explained, “building them, taking them apart, and figuring out how they worked.” 

It felt so easy to be telling him your story. His eyes were rapt with attention 

“In high school I got good at hacking,” this reveal had him move in closer to you, “even better at getting away with it.”

It felt like you were being asked to access a file that was stored away in your backup hard drives. You never expected anyone to want to hear about your angsty, adolescent techno rebellion. 

“You know, it started small at first: messing with the school online newsletter, changing my friends’ grades,” you smiled as the sweet nostalgia took over you. “My best work though was getting a pervy teacher fired who’d made rapey comments to me and my friends.” 

“A vindictive streak,” he said admiringly as his hand took purchase on your knee. 

A jolt of excitement shot through you as he said those words, in the way he said them. Did he get off on that? Revenge. It wasn’t the best of your personality traits. 

A slow sip of the Macallan. 

“Karma’s a bitch,” you said dryly with a shrug.

An impressed grin. 

“My parents said I needed to channel my talent into something productive and lucrative,” you shrugged, “so here I am.”

“Here you are,” he was so close you could feel his breath on your lips as he spoke. 

It took only one look of his pouted lips for you to dive forward to kiss him. His tongue pushing your mouth open while his right hand pushed your hair back from your face. You gripped that hand leading it to the base of your neck. You pressed your hand on top of his, desperate to feel his strength imprint itself on you. The needy groan that escaped him as you did had you snickering with consuming gratification. Falling into each other with breathless desire, you let his mouth go but not before pulling his bottom lip with an eager bite.

“Bad girl,” he groaned, as he tugged you almost impossibly close to him, the heat that rose from both of you intertwining. “You get off on it don’t you? On not getting caught?”

Your heart hammered loudly in your ears as Dave’s hand glided up the slit of your dress. His fingers made quick work of finding the spot he had made wet in the car. Your cunt ached and drummed with anticipation for his touch. You swallowed a deep breath when you felt his thick fingers sweep over the fabric, teasing you as he used his finger tips to play at the edges. You nodded at him, with pleading eyes. 

“Let’s see how much you get off on it,” he growled his head pressed to yours as he slipped his fingers under the velvety soft fabric of your underwear. 

Your thoughts began to swirl in the rich amber of whiskey in your glass as his fingers rubbed at your entrance. You rolled your neck with a deep exhale before placing a secure hold on your glass with your left hand. The wave of exquisite sensation washed over you as you felt his finger glide inside you, finding your clit in a matter of seconds. You brought your glass to your lips, taking in a long sip of whiskey to obscure the moan that threatened to escape from your mouth. The slow burn of the whiskey paired with the sinuous ecstasy that formed from his was almost too much to bear. You could do nothing but roll your hips forward begging for more of his fingers with your body. 

“Firefly, you dirty, fucking slut,” he whispered to you through gritted teeth, “you fucking love this, don’t you?” 

Your hands gripped at the fabric of the bench beneath you, your brain barely registering what he had just said. All you could concentrate on was your desperate attempt to slow your ever-quickening breaths. 

“Answer me,” he demanded in the quietest whisper while tortuously denying you the attention his fingers were giving your clit.

“Yes--I, I love it,” you whimpered

Your body ignited with a luxurious heat at each touch of his fingers at your core. You felt yourself surrendering to him as he continued the deep ministrations within your body, worshiping your clit. 

“You fucking love that you’re about to come right here in public,” he growled his nose pressed to the side of your face, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “I was a fucking stranger to you yesterday and now you love how I already know how to make you come undone. You’ve never felt this good before have you?”

Jesus, fuck. You thought to yourself as you nodded. True. It was all true. 

He rocked his pelvis towards you, his fingers moving relentlessly. “Fucking answer me, firefly.”

“I’ve never felt this good, Dave,” you wanted to cry.

“Good,” he said, his voice gravelly and low, “you wanna come now, baby?”

“Please.” 

With another sinful grin, he crooked his fingers inside you, bracing you with the weight of his body. And you came undone, your entire body trembling and the quietest moan escaping your lips as you clenched around his fingers. You reached out for your glass to drink the last bit of whiskey. You breathed out a long, slow exhale feeling the burn and bliss of the whiskey and your orgasm. 

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he groaned as he released his fingers from your center. 

A gasp vibrated out of your throat, and you relaxed back into him. Everything around you looked hazy with delight, like a dream sequence in a film. You watched as Dave licked his fingers, savoring the taste of you that left its mark there. You felt your pussy clench again at the eroticism of the moment, of how good he must be with his mouth and tongue, and how big his cock must be. You tip-toed your fingers to his pants, cupping his bulge, feeling it grow in the palm of your hand. 

“It’s time we get out of here, firefly,” he spoke with the stoic conviction of a man ready to complete the most important mission he’s ever been given. 

“What are you going to do with me?” You leaned to him, whispering your delicately chosen words into his ear. 

He turned to you, his stare low and focused with lust, “I’m going to make you mine, possess this cunt in ways you’ve only dreamed of.” 

You smiled with satisfaction as though you’d been waiting a lifetime for someone to growl those words at you. He stood up and your gaze poured over his entire body as he pulled out his wallet, leaving a wad of bills on the table that you assumed as far more than the cost of whiskey. He held out a hand to you and you laughed like it was a joke, knowing well you didn’t need or want the feigned gentlemanly gesture. You gathered his jacket around your shoulders again to protect yourself from the biting air.  He slipped one possessive hand beneath the bottom of his jacket to grip your ass and then your waist, holding you close to him the entire, short ride back to the hotel.

[look-at-the-soul]

The Runway -Part 3

Lenny Miller x reader (Cillian Murphy’s role for movie Anna)

Series Master list

Special thanks to @heidimoreton for this amazing BTS gif! 🥰😍 Look at that smile!

And @zablife for the playlist recommendation to finish this part 💕

Looking at the clock, Y/N felt frustrated because Anna was still nowhere to be seen. A member of the crew talked to the pilot and shoot a long look at the other flight attendant.

“Where are you Anna?” She mumbled to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Are you going to Paris with those long faces?” Anna appeared with a huge grin on her face, oversized black sunglasses.

Everyone waiting for her sighed loudly as they realized she was hungover, the atmosphere was tense.

“Goodness Anna!” Y/N shook her head embarrassed by her sister’s attitude.

“Oh please just cut the bullshit.” Anna made a face and walked determined to move past them, but Lenny stood up with a death stare in front of her.

“You‘ve a contract, this is unacceptable and so disrespectful from you, we’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.” Lenny spat at her, clearly bothered.

Y/N wanted to intervene but she new Anna shouldn’t have made them wait.

“I really can’t wait to fire you as my agent.” She brushed past him, into the bedroom in the back of the private airplane.

Finally up in the air, Y/N tried to get comfortable in her seat, grabbing a book from her purse, unfortunately it slipped from her lap and landed on the floor, her personal belongings scattered around, Lenny was quick to help her, scrunching down.

“Thank you, I’m sorry about what happened with my sister earlier.”

“Sometimes I doubt you’re related to be honest.”

Y/N made a face. “That’s bold… but I doubt it myself sometimes.”

Lenny was eager to stop talking about Anna, she was a headache. “Are you excited for taking the Runway in Paris?”

“Yes! It’s the first time I’m hired by Miu Miu, luckily it will bring me good luck for the rest of the shows.”

“But you’re scheduled to walk for Luis Vuitton first, Miu Miu is on Wednesday.” Lenny was proud to realize he had both correct; the order and the fucking pronunciation. He spent a good part of the previous night getting involved in the fashion industry, to not look so out of place.

He learned names, trends, important details, designers faces, everything that was necessary. He was also a bit scandalized about the ridiculous amount of money Y/N and Anna got paid just for taking over a runway and he almost got a heart attack when he added the contracts of magazine covers, collaborations, being the faces of make up, shoes, clothing and appearances to the mix.

“Yes, sorry… I always get the dates mixed, but it’s all in my agenda.”

“Right, well I’ll be doing some paperwork right there if you need anything.” She saw Lenny walk back towards his place. “Make sure to eat something.”

She didn’t know what to expect from this trip, Richardson was never worried about her or her needs, on the contrary he used any opportunity to make her feel inferior, insecure, terrified of doing or saying something, he was different with Anna though always cheering for her and he constantly made them fight for contracts with big brands.

Y/N decided then to relax a little by opening her book, but her eyes constantly ended looking up towards Lenny as he was reading something in his computer, typing then leaning onto his hand, completely focused in his task. Unlike, unable to focus on her book, so Y/N decided to put her mask on and take a nap.

Lenny got access to Anna’s photos, nothing relevant, until he found one she sent to a few people personally requesting to not share the information with anyone else as they were invited to an exclusive meet and greet with her. In the message she mentioned the location would remain secret until the date. Lenny was checking for similar photos where she was invited to do a master class of how to walk like a model. Everything looked normal.

He felt like walking in a maze, like going in endless circles with nothing.

Lenny signed one of the contracts, Y/N would wave a flag at the Monaco F1 as the ambassador of a luxury watch brand in a few months, this deal was engaged by Richardson and he realized how unfair was Y/N’s cut compared to what her ex’s-manager got. These kind of inconsistencies had been also present in other of her contracts. He made a mental note to demand an audit later for that.

“You look like you need this.” Y/N offered him a glass of whiskey.

“That’s a nice way to say I look like shit.” Lenny chuckled inviting her to take the seat next to his.

“What’s the matter?”

“The numbers, there are inconsistencies, I’m starting to believe that your ex-manager has been stealing from you. But once we go back I’ll request an investigation.”

Y/N’s face was full of worry.

“I can’t believe it! How long has he been stealing from me?” Y/N asked, Lenny begged her to keep her voice down.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, do you remember signing something unusual?”

No, everything was legal, Richardson got her the apartment she lived in, signed her assistant, suggested a portfolio as investment, he took care of everything, she barely got involved in those kind of decisions.

“It’s fine, I don’t want you to feel anymore pressure, you have enough with the runway.”

“To tell you the truth, I feel at a much better place now that you’re my manager, I never really liked him…”

Lenny was pleased to hear that.

“Anyways… I was wondering if Richardson told you about the contract I signed with the lingerie brand?”

Clearing his throat, Lenny tried to let his tie a bit loose. “Yes. What about it?”

Y/N smiled but shook her head.

“He wasn’t really excited with the project. Anyway I don’t want to bore you with it now.”

“It’s fine I don’t mind.” Lenny closed the laptop, to give her his undivided attention. “Tell me, what do you like the most about modeling?”

His question seemed to take her by surprise, but it was easy. “Meeting young girls who want to become a model as well.”

“Yeah?” He nodded. “Aren’t you scared of meeting them?”

Y/M shook her head. “No, they’re always nice… most of the people are, they just want a photo, as a matter of fact, I love it when Anna and I meet with fans and take them to a Runway with us for a backstage experience and have a little time you know, chatting.”

Lenny raised his eyebrows shocked to hear that piece of information about Anna but didn’t comment anything else.

“So, what’s your story?”

“Bored compared to yours.” Lenny chuckled, making Y/N giggle. “I’m not a model,” he admitted as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Oh but you could be easily mistaken by one.” Y/N interrupted.

Even if it was for an instant, Lenny blushed by her words. “I can assure you I could never be in front of the paparazzi like you do, I hate it.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of the restaurant.

“You should give it a try.”

“Sadly I don’t have time for a side job, you and your sister keep me busy.” He winked.

Y/N squinted her eyes and a playful look took over her.

***

“Would you believe me if I say, I’ve never been to the Eiffel Tower?” Y/N sighed loudly on their way to the elevator. “Like see it properly.”

Lenny held the door open for her.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, and it might be something silly you may think oh but she’s doing the walk at the actual tower, but it’s not the same you know? I won’t see or enjoy a picnic and have a good time, this is my job.”

“No, I totally get what you mean.” Lenny agreed. “Perhaps you could take a day off once you finish the fashion shows.”

“Oh, you’re saying I get to have a little holiday?” Y/N smiled walking out of the elevator.

Lenny walked to the front door of the suite. “Why not?”

“I thought you’d be demanding to have proof of my weight daily, you know that kind of stuff.” She shuddered.

“Oh no, I’m going to my little room in the attic. Way better.”

Y/N was surprised to learn he didn’t request a suite.

Lenny looked behind her shoulder, the room was ridiculously huge.

“Have some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” As he walked towards the elevator at the end of the corridor, Y/N wondered why Lenny was so different to her ex-agent. He was kind and attentive, praised her work, reassuring, his presence made her feel secure and those blue gems made her knees weak.

���-

Y/N was on the cover of every single fashion magazine, the photographers went crazy when she stepped out of the hotel between one runway and another, but she always gave them what they loved, she posed for them and blew kisses to everyone, even took the time to take photos with the fans that asked her. The camera loved her, she was a natural and it didn’t matter that she was wearing a simple pants and top. She looked stunning.

She took over the most important fashion shows; Balmain, YSL, Dior, Luis Vuitton… and now she would be closing the Paris Fashion Week with Chanel. At the very top of everything and everyone. He was proud to learn about her work ethic, Y/N was always on time, didn’t need to make someone feel bad, was kind to everyone around her, treated her stylist, makeup artist and bodyguard with respect, she always had a smile on when a fan approached her for a photo or autograph and still made time have a good laugh backstage.

But by the end of the night, Y/N knocked on Lenny’s hotel room door make up free, glamour long forgotten with her hair in a small bun or a loose braid and sweats and they spent a good amount of time talking, he learned her ex manager forced her to get eye surgery so she didn’t need glasses anymore, he wanted her to get a nose job as well, but she refused that and the other surgeries advised firmly.

And little by little, Lenny started to warm into her. Between backstage chats, walking back to her suite or in the car ride to the venue, whenever she had the chance to talk to someone, she would choose him, he also noticed the way she was flirting back because she started doing a particular head tilt only reserved for him.

There was no use to deny the attraction that started sparking in those days, it’s was a natural thing after spending a lot of time together.

Lenny stared at the screen backstage as Y/N started walking, the cameraman zoomed out and captured the base of the Eiffel Tower, moments later he catched the entire Tower. Those lips pursed in a tight line, eyes focused in some point in the distance, long and firm strides as she walked elegantly. He wasn’t even able to look away, she was stealing the show.

The city lights illuminating every step, this was the longest runway Y/N had ever walk, it was ambitious and the perfect way to close the Paris Fashion week.

It happened too fast. Her heart was pounding as she returned backstage, her ears ringing from the noise and emotions, her hands shaking but not out of nerves, but the feelings of being walking that runway.

“Goodness I thought it was endless.” She was rushed to get changed into her next outfit.

“Four minutes, Y/N.” Someone announced as she started to undress to change into her new outfit.

The dresser adjusted the fabric while someone sprayed her hair and used a small brush to get the perfect look. And she was ready to go and take the runway one more time.

It was impossible to describe the sensation she got once she started walking. But she loved every second of it.

After changing one more time and finally closing the Paris Fashion Week, she rushed to her corner in backstage to change into her clothes, hang the design she was given, place the shoes she wore in the box and she started to remove the make up from her face, Lenny appeared behind her, knocking on the wall.

“Come in.” Y/N joked.

“Are you ready to go?”

“I thought you’d be back into the hotel by now.”

Lenny offered his hand to take her bag. “No, I stayed here watching the show backstage.”

“Oh, did you like it?”

Lenny shook his head and her heart stopped beating. “Loved it. Come on, I want you to see something.”

He showed her the way to a car with a driver but refused to say anything about their destination and she was too distracted by his voice to notice they crossed a bridge and the car was stopping next to a dock until he pointed out a yacht.

“What’s this?” Y/N asked out of breath.

Lenny chuckled, surprised by the sound he was making. “This is your chance to see the Eiffel Tower, we got it for an hour or so, so let’s go?”

Placing her hand over her heart, Y/N touched Lenny’s arm to mumble a low thank you. She was touched beyond words.

As the yacht started to move, she was able to see a first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower illuminated, lights dancing before her eyes.

“Goodness! This is beautiful Lenny!” Clamping her hands over her mouth to suppress a squeal, she didn’t want to blink so she wouldn’t miss a single second of it.

Lenny was pleased to see Y/N enjoying so much the moment.

“Thank you for this.” She repeated, her heart full of happiness, but when she looked into Lenny’s eyes, she found something else, something new.

“No, thank you for making me see things differently,” he let his fingers wander up and down her arm, “you made me realize a lot of things in a very short time.”

A chill ran down her spine by the intensity of his eyes. “Like what?”

“Like I’m starting to fall for you.” Lenny whispered and tilted his head towards her, finding her lips.

But the best part was when Y/N returned the kiss and placed her hand in the back of his head. It was demanding and she gave in when he intertwined his fingers through her locks.

“So am I, Lenny.” She admitted when they broke the kiss. Looking over at the monument and its lights.

Her line of work was somehow chaotic at times, with a crazy schedule, she never imagined to fall in love with someone in the media, but yet it felt so natural, they shared a couple of interests, got to understand each other over work, she noticed he was so serious at the beginning but slowly, he started to warm into her.

Leaning on Lenny’s shoulder, she fixed her eyes on the sight before her eyes, he was so thoughtful for giving her a moment like this.

Y/N sighed. “But this is going to be a huge thing, because I once had suspicions about my sister and my ex agent and I always told her it wasn’t professional,” she chuckled caressing Lenny’s face.

“What?” He asked with a frown, he wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m not sure if they had a one night thing or something…”

Lenny looked up at the sky, during her rehearsal, he got classified information about Anna. He rubbed his chin frustrated.

“There’s something I need to tell you first, but I need you to listen carefully.”

Y/N’s expression changed. “What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t work for the fashion industry, I’m an undercover agent investigating the girls that had been missing from different parts of the country, some even foreigners, I received information about your sister, apparently she’s involved by recruiting young girls for a meet and greet or a model session, after that some of the girls went missing.”

It was a lot to digest, she was confused after all the information he just dropped.

She was shocked. “You’re a spy?”

“An agent.” He corrected. “Not a models agent.”

Y/N took a deep breath, the beautiful surprise took a different turn.

“Are you sure Anna is involved?”

Lenny nodded. “We’ve been tracking her down for a while and recently got access to a couple of messages codified that started the alarms again.”

“Why? She doesn’t need to.”

“Could be a lot of things.” Lenny admitted watching the sadness in her eyes, the veil falling to the ground and the pedestal in which she put Anna breaking. “I’m sorry, but I needed you to know this, since she has involved you somehow.”

“I’ve been to those meet and greet with the girls, the after parties, but everything seemed to be normal.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t imagine those girls wanting to have a dream come true and then not coming back home.”

As it started to get chilly, Lenny took off the jacket of his suit and wrapped it around Y/N’s shoulders, then he pulled her into his embrace and she leant into him giving one more look to the Eiffel Tower as the yacht started to go back.

As much as she loved her sister to death, she wasn’t going to allow her to hurt innocent people.

“What can I do to help you?”

Lenny ran his thumb across her face, giving her a small peck on the lips. “For now, I just want you to be safe.”

****

Part 4

A/N: I found the runway photo on Pinterest but I don’t know what fashion show it’s from ☺️ this was particularly hard to write because although I had the entire idea figured out, I couldn’t get around the document 🤷🏻‍♀️ what do you think it will happen now?

Tag list: @lyarr24 @cillmequick @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @babaohhhriley @moral-terpitude @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @sydneyyyya @camilleholland89 @allie131313 @star017 @babayaga67 @imichelle-l-rigby @lovemissyhoneybee @jyessaminereads @emmanuelle19 @cillixn @polishcrazyone @flippittygibbitts @tinyminxie @shjjpm @viesanterieures @marissat1998 @creativepawsworld @heidimoreton @winchestergirl22 @l1-l4

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

....Ummmmmm..... I just saw a post with complaints about Alastor's race and nitpicking about the perceived insensitivity and inaccuracies the people who get angry enough to post about the heavily censored Yiff in Hell Cartoons being waaaaaaaay too unrealistic for them usually get butthurt over and OP just assigned Alastor, like... This random ass last name that I'd personally never heard of before... And I thought it was strange since we've already kind of been "teased" technically in a way about a potential last name for him and it wasn't that but I thought maybe it'd already been confirmed so I decided to just look that weird little last name the fuck up just to see like, where the fuck OP was pulling this brand new information from and, uh ....

I can't believe I just got wikirolled in the wild by a fucking fanti I hate these people. 😭

You guys, when I reveal my revamped blog/OC redesign for Hazbin proper that I'm currently collaborating on with a very talented artist right now (🫶) I promise I'm never gonna do this shit! I'm gonna narrate my OCs little backstory for you in like an audiobook format on a podcast or something like the truly tired Cripple that I am! 😭 ❤️

I'm so glad someone decided to be silly today though so I have an excuse to save my random little announcement/pitch for my podcast idea for next Wednesday because I'm exhausted! 😭

I DID watch Saltburn (2023) in full recently and it gave me just as many Alastor feelings as I was expecting it to and then some, can you tell? 💘🦌

But yeah please remember to consume Adult Media that isn't just cartoons or else you'll end up exactly like the person who wrote this wiki and that's not good for you! Or anyone! 💀

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

@therealgchu tagged me earlier today for WIP Wed, thank you for the tag! I've been behind with Wed and Sun updates due to stress, medical appointments, husband getting ready to and starting his new remote job, and more stress. Everything is fine and I'm getting back to a more normal routine which means I have snips to share again!

I decided to dive head first into working on the next Libertatia fic, the one I've been hammering on since like...April? Off and on. A fluff fic really about a little girl's wild west b-day party!

[narrator interruption: it is not a fluff piece. the 'subplot' is full of drama and angst.]

anyway...here's the snip!

--

They sat there quietly sipping their drinks and letting the breeze through the window and door cool them off. It would be another day before Jazz got the power to the indoor spaces running for the fans and refrigerator. A small compromise that took a lot of negotiating with Sophie since she wanted everything authentic. It took getting her to spend one hour in the saloon in an outfit similar to her costume for her to cave, admitting the last thing she wanted was for Bog to get sick from the heat.

Bella watched Cora and Manny walk by with Rokov, everyone loaded up with targets, empty bottles, and clay pigeons for the trick shots show a few of the crew had dreamed up. A question she’d asked Jacob popped into her head, his answer not satisfactory, “Did they say anything about Cora not being the ‘right girl’. Jacob had no clue what the fuck Jimmie was on about.”

Fox groaned and sank in his seat, “yeah and it’s stupid as shit.”

“Oh really,” Bella leaned in.

“The way Mom explained it sounded like some grand conspiracy,” he talked through his hands, “Whoever has been feeding them information spun quite the yarn and…you’re going to make me regurgitate that crazy?”

“Si, habla!” Bella motioned for him to continue.

He mumbled a string of obscenities before tipping his fresh beer back and taking a long drink. He sat the bottle down, took a breath, and shook his head, “it’s fucking stupid.”

“They believed it enough to risk fighting my husbands, I need to know,” she laughed.

“Whoever their informant is told them that Cora, real life Cora,” Fox pointed down toward the range, “is a little girl Jacob adopted to solidify the ‘lie’ that Sam had moved on with Lillian and that the ‘real’ Cora is a seven year old girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. They bought it because the Coes are mostly blondes and we have some blondes on the Bakers side so genetically it works out. They were told that was the reason Jay bought the Core Manor years back was so she could have Cora on Akila and let her Dad and Jacob see her in secret. Then two years ago they decided to stop living in secret and got married. Mom even showed me pictures given to her by the informant with ‘actress’ Cora dancing with ‘real’ Cora or ‘real’ Cora was sitting on Sam’s lap while Jay fixed her hair.”

The amusement Bella had felt was gone, burned away by the wrath growing inside of her, “they think Sophie is Cora?”

“Si,” Fox said sharply and took another drink, “never mind that Sophie is a near perfect replica of you, they believe that she’s actually Cora and that Jay had you come live with her to help take care of her so Jacob could keep his cover story going.”

“But that doesn’t make any fucking sense!” Bella shouted, “Sam and Lillian divorced years ago, there was no need to wait until two years ago to go public.”

“Jay was still building her brand then,” Fox rolled his eyes, “I asked them why they thought any of it made sense, why they thought Jacob would feel the need to fake anything since he clearly liked Jay so much or why they would name their daughter the same name as the ‘cover’ and they said their informant told them it was to save face since Jay chose to earn her masters and Ph.D in New Atlantis. He needed the family to look like a strong Freestar family and Jay was a liability at the time. The way she talked it was like the whole of the Core District was in on it.”

“That’s…”

“Stupid? Absurd? Absolutely ridiculous?” Fox opened his arms wide, “and before you ask: yes, I asked them where the informant got those photos. They said that they never met the informant directly, always through proxies, and that they had no idea where they’d gotten them but they were assured they were legit. I took them and told them that I’d be handing them over to the Rock for an investigation because those were wedding photos I took and the only people who have copies are me, Jay and Sam. Which means their informant broke into one of our homes to get those pictures.”

Bella sat slack jawed in her seat, her imagination running wild with scenarios she did not want to think about.

[nautiscarader]

What the hecking heck has hap-you all know the drill by now

Yadda, yadda yadda, metaphor about going to different dimension, because prospect of Polish hospitals is way too scary.

So, let's do this..

And, uh, what should I tell you about? Oh, maybe about the nurses that either treated me like delicate glass, and sometimes like sack of potatoes? No, done that. Absolutely minuscule food portions and- wait, I've done that... or maybe about the helicopters 've been watch- no, done that already...

See guys, the thing is, after a few visits stuff just... becomes new normal. You get used to it. So...

(source: @pauladrawsnstuff)

Oh. Well, in that case...

My dearest friends, I am honoured to present you with brand new filler segment. And since all those recent visits had something to do with wounds on my posterior, I see no better way than to call it...

Chapter 23: Utter bollocks #1

The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood. Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact. And if you know where does this quote come from, I am so, so sorry for you

On Friday, I was not admitted to a hospital. Initially. Instead, I had to participate in Hunger Games-esque Battle for the Bed, which I have won by throwing some sweets to distract my starved opponents.

On Saturday, I found a remarkably short proof of Fermat's Last theorem, but since I had no paper, and therefore, no margins, I couldn't write it down.

On Sunday, I was briefly folded in half to accommodate a third patient in two-patients room. I was going to start a YT channel, but then I remembered that Foldable Human (Dan Olsen) already exists.

On Monday, I watched the first episode of Gravity Falls: Journal Journeys, and it was delightful to see older Dipper and Mabel travel across US to track cryptids. No straight ship hints, but Dipper still wears Wendy's hat. Full review soon.

On Tuesday, I was visited by the Doctor. Okay, not me personally, the TARDIS just happened to land in my room. Turned out the Doctor wanted to take one of the male nurses for a companion, and honestly? Good for him. He looked exhausted and so effing done 24/7.

On Wednesday, the northern hemisphere was closed due to maintenance, so literally nothing happened.

On Thursday, I solved Wordle on the first try, but since I played not logged-in, my achievement was not recorded. The word was "BOOBS".

And on Friday, I was finally let out, but only after solving a Sphinx's riddle: What walks on four legs in the morning, two in the day, and three in the evening? The answer: most patients on the surgery ward, the docs are scalpel-happy here.

And thus, I was back home, ready to tell you about the whole heap of nothingness that has never not happened.

Tune in next time for... probably more of the same!

[g0thgh0ul]

This is going to be a long read, but here's the blog post update on what's happened since getting stranded.

With the help of you lovely people, I was able to get it towed the rest of the way to Dallas. I then had a cousin reach out willing to help get it fixed no matter what it took, so that I could make it back home. We had to wait out the weekend, then he took it to a mechanic to get the proper diagnosis as to why it wouldn't hold temperature. We then found out that there was a crack in the radiator, and that's where the fluid leak was coming from. My cousin had to help me get a brand new radiator in the car and pay the mechanic to put it in. I was also informed that the engine desperately needs to be serviced because there's a piston not hitting right. I'm not sure when or if that will get fixed in the future. We were stuck until the following Wednesday, then we finally made it home.

I desperately need to find a better source of income, so that I can be prepared for emergencies like that, or anything really. It's exhausting working all that I can, only to keep running into the ground with my bills. It's exhausting being unable to function like a normal person--provide my own groceries, pay to wash my clothes, provide other necessities such as hygienic products, buy new clothes or shoes as needed, or even just simply put my gas in my car to make it to work every day. Not to mention getting my car fixed so I have a solid form of transportation. I strive for nothing more than to be stable, I feel like I'm really pushing it trying to scrape up pennies to get by week by week. On top of all of that, I took on my 17 yr old sister to live with me so I could help her with her first job over the summer, who I completely enjoy having around but I feel like I need to not show her how stressed I always am although hiding my feelings is something that I'm absolutely terrible at.

Anyway, this is in no way a pity post or anything of the sort. Just a simple short vent about my situation.

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

fellas, is it autistic to argue with the person who diagnosed you as Not Actually Autistic Just ADHD + Social Anxiety by sending back results from fully 7 different autism self-tests that all agree you are in fact autistic

I mean, if I’d been on top of things, I would have done this before the evaluation and brought the results with me, and I also would have made a list and brought that with me, so I wouldn’t now be going back with “okay but have you considered that not all these social difficulties can be explained by social anxiety because here’s something I forgot to bring up,” but uh, the fact that I didn’t do that is...the ADHD (also one major example didn’t even occur to me as relevant until like last month, so I didn’t even forget that one, it just...didn’t occur to me--although one could argue that better questioning could have gotten to it regardless)

 ...anyway I did do that, I sent the scary email, it’s been almost two months since they sent the final report and I actually only read it a week ago, but luckily I had appendicitis last week so I got to start off like “yeah so I didn’t have a chance to go over this in detail until very recently, for um various reasons INCLUDING AN EMERGENCY APPENDECTOMY SO LET’S NOT SPECULATE ABOUT THE PREVIOUS MONTH AND A HALF, anyway moving on, what if actually it’s ADHD and anxiety and autism”

and I have no idea how that’s going to be received, because I’m...basically asking to be reevaluated in the context of new information, without having the guts to explicitly say that? also without having any idea if that’s like...a thing they ever do? or if it could be done like this, or with a followup appointment, or if it would require a brand-new evaluation, or...?

oh yeah and I have an appointment on Wednesday with the person who prescribes my psychiatric meds and I really just want to cancel, because I canceled my last therapist appointment in December and haven’t rescheduled and I don’t want to explain that, and I got this evaluation in December but didn’t look at it until a week ago but I don’t want to explain that, and she didn’t think I was autistic when she gave me the referral so I really don’t want to talk about that...and if it were an in-person appointment, I’d have a perfect excuse, and I might use it anyway, but I don’t know how legit it would sound to say “uh I had surgery a week ago so I’m not up to a 15-minute Zoom call, even though I’m up to basically everything else at this point”

[youhideastar]

WIP Wednesday: Net Impression

Poor Net Impression, one of my few WIPs that nobody ever asked about 😂 but I'm going to tell you anyway! Because I really wanted to share this scene.

Once upon a time, x_los wrote this beautiful miniature of a modern AU, and I left the following comment:

"Wow, I was not expecting to be taken back so acutely to That Time in My Life, i.e., the three years I spent as a government litigator in unrequited love with my broke legal-aid lawyer best friend and former classmate, but A+++++++ emotional verisimilitude and excuse me while I go hide under the covers with a Kleenex box for the rest of the day and possibly year!"

And then the next day, without making any conscious decision to do so, I wrote this:

Lan Zhan wakes of her own volition, when the sky is still dark; habit makes the best alarm. Core hours at the agency don’t start until 7. She rolls out her mat and breathes through her morning yoga. A quick shower; she’ll wash her hair tonight after tennis.

Breakfast is a banana—eaten standing up, in a private rebellion against one of Uncle’s rules—while she skims the Post’s website. Wei Ying has informed her that reading the paper over breakfast officially makes her an old lady.

Lan Zhan favors light colors but has bowed to practicality in the matter of slacks; today, navy, with a white shell and cardigan, and white ankle boots. “This is how I know you’re a witch, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying had told her. “Because you wear white shoes and they’re never dirty.” The last words had been pronounced with the kind of grand j’accuse energy that would accompany the reveal of a murderer’s identity at the end of a mystery novel.

Jewelry is tricky; Lan Zhan likes how she looks with adornment, but still does battle with a voice telling her not to draw attention to her appearance. Today, simple white pearl eardrops suffice. Sometimes she pairs them with a string of pearls around her neck, but Wei Ying had commented offhand that the cardigan-and-pearls look was “very Stepford,” and it still stings, though she’s sure it wasn’t meant to. Her hair goes in a French braid, as it has every day of her life since she was twelve; the movements automatic by now.

She feels about cosmetics much the same way that she feels about jewelry, with the added risk of looking like a fool for lack of practice in its application. Wei Ying had mentioned, once, that mascara was “hard to fuck up.” Lan Zhan bought the same brand she saw in Wei Ying’s bag, and applies it most working days. A restrained rose-pink lipstick has also become habit. She likes the look of it, and the feel of applying it, silky and light. She looks in the mirror and sees nothing to criticize. Good enough.

No leftovers to bring for lunch; she will take her chances with the food trucks.

It’s cold outside—not New York or Chicago cold, but cold enough for a scarf and a jacket. With no lunch to pack, her briefcase is light. Her tennis racket and tennis clothes are at work. She has no competition for a seat on the Metro, at this hour, and she makes good progress on her book.

She badges into the building, and then into her floor, and then sits at her desk at 7 precisely, for another day at work, having only thought of Wei Ying four times. That, too, is good enough.

[nyctictea]

Hey the post about Spotify is misinformation. They always release it on the Wednesday after US-American thanksgiving, which is why the date itself varies by a few days. There are a lot of brands colluding with the Israeli govt, and investigating BDS is a great way to find out who to boycott. Spotify has plenty of other issues that would justify not wanting to support them, like fair pay for artists. Unfortunately this particular instance is “Jews control the media” style propaganda and not substantiated by anything. It’s a good time to be vigilant because hidden among the real and horrific news I’m seeing, I’m also seeing people uncritically spread blood libel and dual loyalty propaganda, which doesn’t help Palestinians and gets innocent people hurt.

Thank you for informing and catching me on that! I think I saw some similar deconstruction after the fact and honestly forgot about the post, but as of now I've un-reblogged it. Even if it doesn't undo any of the spread that may have come from it, the least I can do is cut off its avenue. It's a good reminder to not get lax with our judgement and keep an eye out for these things, so it's important to remain critical of the things we intend to share.

[amethystamanda]

Week 1 Report

Identification scanned. System access granted to Qhesreia Aryasha of the Sixami Exploration Corps.

Daily reports compiled and attached for review by the Council.

Day 1, Sunday on the sims calendar:

I have secured housing in this sim land I have been left in. It required nearly all of the simoleons I was provided with. It is very brown.

I have secured employment suited to this locale. I have become what they call an actress. I have my first audition tomorrow. I have practiced the skill required.

I have met a neighbour, Venessa Jeong. She is also an actress. She is neat, cheerful, and ambitious. She is single with no children. A potential breeding partner.

Day 2, Monday on the sims calendar:

Some random sim shoved a brand new pair of earbuds at me and refused to take them back? Have we ever learned the purpose behind this? Is it a means of tracking us?

I regret to report that I failed my audition. Maybe I was too purple, maybe I'm just not accustomed to human expectations. I accept the judgment of the Council.

I have another audition scheduled for tomorrow evening. If I also fail that, I will consider alternative income sources.

Venessa has requested to stay at my house for a few days. This could be promising.

Day 3, Wednesday on the sims calendar:

A vampire visited last night. I was not impressed.

Venessa is only interested in masculine sims. This is disappointing. I will select a different breeding partner.

I attended GeekCon (a sim festival) in hopes of finding someone, but nearly everyone is costumed. I cannot judge their suitability if I cannot inspect them.

A sim called me and told me that I had inherited simoleons? When I asked who they were referring to, they just gave it to me and wouldn't take it back? Sims are very strange.

I succeeded at the second audition. I go to work in two days.

I don't know who made the decision to abduct Venessa while she was staying at my house, but I am not impressed! This is a security risk if sims start investigating!

A sim named Raj Rasoya invited me to spend time with him. He is a possible breeding partner, so I accepted. He vanished almost immediately. I do not have much hope for him.

This is more difficult than I thought it would be, but with your support and leadership, Councillors, I will prevail.

Day 4, Thursday on the sim calendar:

The pollinator did not even manage to pollinate Venessa. It was not worth the risk, and there was no benefit.

At the acting job, one of the producers, Krista Lewandowski, immediately asks to be physically intimate. Possibly something will come of that?

I have attached the feedback I received from the talent agency. I have been promoted. I look forward to a time when I have enough recognition for a superior talent agency.

My next audition is in two days.

Day 5, Friday on the sims calendar:

I asked Krista on a 'date' to better assess her suitability. She proposed marriage (lifetime romantic partnership). I saw no reason to say no, since the proposal isn't the actual marriage (there are legal forms to sign) and the 'engagement' (agreement to marriage) can be cancelled. She's the most promising breeding partner I've found so far and I cannot afford to lose track of her.

Krista is a herbalist and a technophobe. While not ideal, she will likely not pry into our affairs. A more complete report will follow when my inspection is complete.

I was invited to join a club called the 'Good Timers.' I am not fully informed about the details, but in case Krista does not work out, it could be useful. It also looks positive to join a human organization.

Week Summary: Despite setbacks, I have aquired an acceptable income source, a breeding partner, and a human social circle.

End of weekly report. Report submitted by Qhesreia Aryasha to Sixami Royal Council at the end of the fifth day. Weekly orders received: The Sixami Royal Council requires a more detailed report. Take photos of your life every day for 7 days.

(Featuring Holographic Computer by @hamsterbellbelle https://hamsterbellbelle.tumblr.com/post/698652895159140352/holographic-computer-download-alt-download-2)

[internationalrealestatenews]

[ad_1] Fed up with being tied to Miami's dysfunctional authorities corruption, David and Leila Centner backed out of their no-bid deal to construct a $10 million recreation middle at a city-owned park. Throughout public feedback at Thursday's Miami Metropolis Fee, David Centner stated he and his spouse are backing out of a license settlement to develop a youth sports activities advanced with a dome in Biscayne Park, a 7.4-acre property at 150 Northeast nineteenth Avenue. The Miami Seashore energy couple personal Centner Academya personal college chain with three campuses, together with a constructing adjoining to Biscayne Park. “We have now been defamed, trolled and attacked for doing factor,” David Centner stated. “Nobody right here will even have a look at me within the eye….We're pulling out….We're into enhancing the park, however we're not all in favour of spending $10 million in a domed sports activities park.” The Centners have confronted mounting opposition since Miami metropolis commissioner Miguel Gabela initially sought to terminate their no-bid deal in January. After a number of postponements, Gabela's decision to kill the Centner settlement got here again on the agenda this week. Supporters of a scuttled plan to redevelop Biscayne Park right into a mixed-use mission that features a new residence for a well-liked magnet college outnumbered Centner Academy advocates at Miami Metropolis Corridor in Coconut Grove on Thursday. Forward of the town fee assembly, the Miami-Dade County Public Faculties board voted to assist Gabela's decision and oppose the Centner settlement. The general public college system operates iPrep Academy, the magnet college that may be a part of the mixed-use mission. “We have now been making an attempt to make a considerable reward to the town,” David Centner stated at Wednesday's public listening to. “It's surreal we're combating so exhausting to present our cash away.” Leila Centner informed metropolis commissioners that the couple would oppose any renewed plan for a industrial growth at Biscayne Park. “A park is a park is a park,” Leila Centner stated. “We simply need it to be inexperienced house. However we can't enable it to be a constructing.” Tainted by public corruption probe Regardless of their insistence that their intentions for Biscayne Park are altruistic, the Centners' $10 million recreation middle proposal is tainted by the general public corruption probe that led to felony fees in opposition to Alex Diaz de la PortillaGabela's predecessor, in September. William Riley Jr., a lawyer the Centners employed to foyer Diaz de la Portilla and metropolis officers, was additionally criminally charged. In 2020, when he was chairman of the town's Omni Group Redevelopment Company, Diaz de la Portilla allegedly sandbagged efforts between the town of Miami and Miami-Dade County Public Faculties to redevelop Biscayne Park, an arrest affidavit states. The scuttled plan concerned partnering with a developer by way of a request for proposals to construct a mission with reasonably priced housing, workplace house and a brand new residence for the general public college district's iPrep Academy. As an alternative, Diaz de la Portilla directed Omni CRA and the town of Miami staffers to formalize a license settlement with Perpetual Love Belief, an entity owned by the Centners. Along with donating the $10 million leisure middle to the town, Perpetual Love Belief would share 50 p.c of the ability's income and use the opposite 50 p.c to supply upkeep and safety for the primary decade of the settlement. In alternate, Centner Academy would get partial unique use of the constructing. Riley allegedly arrange a shell firm beneath his identify that accepted $245,000 in funds from Perpetual Love Belief between 2020 and 2022, the arrest affidavit states. Riley's entity then allegedly funneled the cash in numerous quantities at separate occasions to a pair of political motion committees managed by Diaz de la Portilla, the affidavit states.

Diaz de la Portilla allegedly didn't abstain from voting on the license settlement on account of his battle of curiosity, in addition to allegedly didn't publicly disclose his battle, the affidavit states. The Centners offered sworn statements to investigators, and each have vehemently denied any wrongdoing. Throughout Thursday's metropolis fee assembly, the Centners performed a video wherein they forcefully preserve their innocence. “I can not reiterate sufficient, and for the 1,000th time, David and Leila Centner aren't concerned” within the alleged public corruption between Diaz de la Portilla and Riley, David Centner stated within the video. Metropolis commissioners revoke license Although David Centner stated he and his spouse would not pursue the $10 million growth, metropolis commissioners formally killed the license settlement late Thursday afternoon by a 5-0 vote. Commissioner Damian Pardo famous the cloud hanging over the no-bid deal justified killing the settlement. “What we have now ascertained is that this was born in a really corrupt scenario,” Pardo stated. “It makes good sense to revoke this license. “It is a case the place the general public pursuits have been merely not being served.” Commissioner Gabela dismissed considerations by his colleague, Joe Carollo, that the Centners could sue the town. “They do not have a lease and so they haven't got a contract,” Gabela stated. “They cannot come again at us.” [ad_2] Supply hyperlink

[crispyfryenperu]

Projects, Musings, Shocks

I am chilling on the brand new sofa my host family just bought. It’s a stiff navy chair. I lie across the arms of the chair, in my classic Foreigner chaco-style Teevas, ill-fitting shorts  (my last clean pair), and a pink t-shirt.  I watch and listen to the Peruvian news. It really keeps you hooked. Endless blood and shootings motivated by money, drugs, and stealing. Today I was surprised to see that in Lima, there is a standoff between fishermen and police officers. Both sides throwing rocks and large sticks at each other. Several men rushed to the hospital. The air is warm and unpleasantly cozy, fortunately a breeze makes its way through the iron grates on the window.  I have a slight stomach ache from eating too many potato chips with lemon and the Valentina sauce I brought from the US. My host mom eats a homemade lucuma popsicle. Since no one has AC here, popsicles are a constant in life. Like drinking water (In the US, since in Peru most people don’t drink water). Every few days you have to make a new batch of popsicles, with whatever fruit you have available. If no fruit, make a chocolate milk popsicle, or use any juice you have. Right now we have lucuma, and I took advantage and made lucuma pancakes today too. Lucuma is a delicious fruit and perfect in a chocolate cake, something I will miss dearly when I leave.

I’ve been working on a higiene project in my town. The idea is that a nutritionist comes to talk about kitchen higiene. I invite all of the restaurants and the rest of the town. Then the municipality gives certificates to participants and promotes participating restaurants on their website. 

It has been very frustrating to work with the municipality to organize this project. It was like pulling teeth, and I am so happy that we are nearing the end of the project! First we did the workshops in La Capilla, which is where more of the districts restaurants are located. 6 women came. That is a lower number than I was expecting, but it allowed for a lovely, intimate workshop. Every woman was able to ask questions and participate in the hands-on activities. This week, the workshop is in the municipality. Since only 6 women came to La Capilla, I thought to myself, most likely around 10 women will come to the muni. But on our first day, 23 women showed up!!! I am still in shock. And I wonder if they came for the certificates, the restaurant promotions, the rifa sorpresa, or because I walked around in the heat 4 different times collecting info and inviting everyone to the workshop. Although 23 women are welcome, I’ve quickly discovered how hard it is to capture the attention of the whole group at once. Everything takes longer. Plus, a few people brought their young children. Still, the workshop had some very good moments, and I printed out all the information and slides in booklets, so I think that helps it to flow more smoothly, and helps people pay attention.  Tomorrow, Wednesday, will be the last workshop, and I went and bought more materials. A few women, who also own restaurants, commented that they have never had any formal training in restaurants or kitchen higiene, so that is what is motivating me to do my best. 

Once the workshops are finished, I’ll still have to organize kitchen inspections and restaurant publicity on the webpage. 

Besides that, I am trying to enjoy the hot, sweaty summer. I am training girls age 8-12 in soccer, and spending time at the beach with Peruvian friends and family. 

On Sunday my host brother and I found a scorpion on the floor. With a small scream, he smashed it into oblivion. On Monday, my host mom found another scorpion. She picked up the scorpion with a handkerchief, found its tale, and injected herself with the venomous butt. She explained to me that the venom is good for skin and can help pimples go down.  I am very happy to report that she is still alive and bopping. Although I haven’t checked to see if that pimple went down.  It was like an alternate universe. 

Also like being in an alternate universe, was someone was describing to me an awful motorcycle crash. But aside from the motorcycle crash, by the time the ambulance and police got there, the victims had also been robbed of their wallets and cellphones, while in their state of severe injuries and severe shock. It’s so awful to imagine. But so many people in Peru are poor, desperate, and accustomed to death. 

Today my host brother cooked a yellow-pepper-and-cheese pasta. It’s called tallarines a la huancaina. He put too much yellow pepper in and it tasted like a spiced pasta - spiced but not spicy. I was thoroughly enjoying it, and my host brother sat there eating and chugging down glasses on glasses of lemonade. He dumped half a parmesan cheese on top to lower the spice, and gave me half of the pasta he had served himself.  In the end he gave up and went to take a shower to cool off after the spicy pasta. It was like eating mac and cheese with some black pepper on top. He must be a super taster like my real sister.

Look at their faces

[mldesigngraphics]

Specialist Practice

1:1, feedback, major project and idea changes, New problem, insight and solution.

I had a 1:1 with Emily on Wednesday (8th Nov), i was worrying ab9out the compatibility of my idea and if i could successfully achieve what i wanted to without the wrong impression as well as what time i have left to complete it.

I started my 1:1 with Emily explaining my original idea and telling her where I think it wouldn't work and what i was thinking of changing.

Problems with idea 1:

Creating a skin care brand for this brief might give a different message to consumers than i want to give. Skincare is paired with improving skin and or to cover up imperfections or improve them.

A skin care brand wont delivery the educational aspects i want to correctly as the website may be disregarded.

New Problem, Insight, Soltuion

Problem:

Many young children suffer from poor self esteem and lack of confidence in their skin. This is usually caused from negative comparisons to social media images that are edited and perceive unrealistic beauty standards and expectations. Along with peer bullying and not enough support from adults around them like parents and teachers.

Insight:

"30-50% of teens and young adults suffer from low self-esteem due to skin related issues like acne". Researching into the main reasons of young people's unhappiness within their bodys/skin. looking into the negative effects of social media, comparison culture to models and edited photos on social media, peer pressure and bullying from peers, lack of encouragement and confidence boosting from adults like teachers and parents.

Solution:

To create a campaign/ Pop up workshop to support young people in school, college and university’s to improve their self confidence and self-esteem. The pop-up ‘workshop’ will include group activities, activity’s to educate young people on the use of editing in images on social media that portray unrealistic beauty standards, tips and tricks on how to improve self confidence with daily positive affirmations. This will include a social media presence, a website with more things on offer to support young people and posters that can go up around university’s, schools and colleges to make people aware of the workshops or re-direct them to the website for more information.

Using personal experience for my solution:

Another reason for this solution response is due to personal experience, as a teenager i struggled terribly and still do with mental health and having self confidence because of having acne prone skin, from the ages of 11 to 17 i was teased and bullied for my skin, i wasn't encourages by others often about my skin being okay as it was and to love it, so i would try anything and everything to improve my skin and it started to affect my mental health more and more. i wish i could've had something similar to this where i was encouraged to love my skin and what i looked like at a young age as i feel it definitely would've helped me mentally and helped my confidence.

Next steps:

Design brand assets (logo, brand name, type face colour palette etc)

decide on what illustrative elects i want o add to social media, posters and website.

look at inspiring for poster design and website design/layout

Designs social media posts to promote workshop/ pop-up shop

What will the pop up shops offer and include design things for that, banners, goodie bags and contents.

further research to support choices

[suitov]

"Don't you know how to eat lobster?"

"Um." Makoto looked between the chopsticks in his hand and the giant red insect on his plate. He didn't think that was a trick question, but...

"Tch. Where were you brought up?" Byakuya rapped one long, manicured finger on the bleach-white tablecloth. "It's just as well I took the trouble to host you first. Imagine if I'd I let myself be seen in public with you."

"We go to school together, in public," Makoto pointed out, trying for conciliatorily reasonable rather than confused. He was a little tired of always scurrying to catch up with Byakuya's thought processes. It felt like being in a foot race with someone on a really skittish horse, and Makoto didn't have the best history with horses.

"Put those down. For heaven's sake." Byakuya did the nose pinch thing, which involved taking off his glasses, so Makoto had always secretly suspected it was mostly for show. "Here. The naming of parts. This is your fork, your pick, and these—"

"The nutcrackers?"

A sigh. "The lobster crackers. They're for cracking the claws."

"You eat the claws?"

"Of course. That's some of the best meat. But start with the tail; that goes cold first. Here. Like this, and twist."

"With my bare hands?"

"Of course. You washed them, didn't you?"

Makoto, rather than answer that (of course he had—and he'd taken a long bubble bath earlier, too, so that Byakuya couldn't call him a great unwashed again), watched carefully and managed to twist off the tail. He wasn't as neat about the juice as Byakuya was, but he earned a sniff of I-can't-be-bothered-to-criticise, which was basically praise.

"Crack like this—yes, both hands—and now use the pick to extract the meat."

Makoto followed along obediently. This felt like the 'fon-doo' thing all over again. It seemed like the richer you were, the more work you had to do to eat a meal. Maybe this was some kind of conspiracy among chefs? He'd have to ask Teruteru—actually, no, he'd rather not ask Teruteru anything.

He felt like he should be apologising to the lobster for the mess he was making of its body. At least it was long dead. Even as a proud meat teen, he didn't want to think about eating something that had just recently been alive.

But eat it he managed to do, despite several instances of scolding and one shriek when he accidentally dipped a piece of leg meat into the finger bowl. And it was nice! The butter was good. Byakuya insisted he eat the brain, too ("you can't afford to turn down a spare neuron"), even though it had a disconcerting colour and wasn't as nice as the rest.

"Fine," said Byakuya afterwards, dabbing daintily at his lips. "Now you won't embarrass me quite so thoroughly."

"I'm still wondering one thing, though," said Makoto, after rescuing his cuff from its entanglement with his napkin. "When exactly were you expecting to eat out with me?"

"Why, next Friday night, obviously."

"Obviously? What do you mean, Friday? I'm seeing Komaru then."

"No you're not."

"I am! We're going to the shopping district to check out her new—"

"Well, then, that's your foolish fault to have double-booked yourself. The car will be there at seven sharp. Dress nicely, not in tonight's scraps."

Makoto gaped at him. This suit was brand new... he'd counted himself lucky, when Byakuya had (unilaterally) informed him of tonight, that he'd already had it ready for next month's graduation.

"Don't tell me that's the nicest thing you own? I assumed you were dressing down for the evening so as not to outshine the host. Not necessary, I assure you."

"Um..."

"Tch. Fine. I'll send a man on Wednesday to bring you to my tailor."

Makoto felt the urge to press his eyes back into their sockets. Definitely not with any of the instruments of torture they'd used on the poor lobsters, though.

"Honestly, Naegi, sometimes you're almost more trouble than you're worth," complained Byakuya to the world at large. "You would do well to consider just what you bring to this relationship."

"R-relationship?!"

Byakuya be like, "Naegi, good news. I've generously decided to let you walk with me to lunch. Well, since you're here, you may as well sit at my table. Is that all you brought to eat? Fascinating; so that's what the 99% are willing to put in their bodies. No, I won't allow you to be seen at my table eating that garbage; I will be buying you a lunch. This is nonnegotiable. Tch."

[eazy-group]

Clean Hollywood Skin: Scarlett Johansson’s The Outset Launches in the U.K.

New Post has been published on https://eazybeauty.net/clean-hollywood-skin-scarlett-johanssons-the-outset-launches-in-the-u-k/

Clean Hollywood Skin: Scarlett Johansson’s The Outset Launches in the U.K.

LONDON — Scarlett Johansson’s The Outset, which she launched with beauty veteran Kate Foster, is coming to the U.K.

Johansson and Foster, who serves as the brand’s chief executive officer and has worked in beauty at Victoria’s Secret and Juicy Couture, launched the brand in 2022.

“It’s important to set your boundaries so that you can give your best to the things that you prioritize. Being able to delegate is critical to the success of any ambitious project. We have a lot of moms working on our team at The Outset and it feels like moms are especially gifted at multitasking,” said the actor, who is launching in the U.K. with Cult Beauty on Wednesday.

The cosmetics retailer will sell the brand’s Gentle Micellar Antioxidant Cleanser, Firming Vegan Collagen Prep Serum and Nourishing Squalane Daily Moisturizer, starting from 32 pounds.

Kate Foster and Scarlett Johansson of The Outset.

The Outset uses a signature Hyaluroset complex, a botanical alternative to hyaluronic acid, in all of its products that is meant to provide lasting hydration, plumping and smoothing. The brand said it excluded 2,700 harmful ingredients from its products and looked to only clean ingredients.

“Our U.K. community members have been particularly vocal asking for the brand, and we’ve seen that many of them have traveled to the U.S. to shop The Outset at Sephora,” said Johansson, explaining that she wants to forge a deeper relationship with her European customers in order to figure out where to expand to in the future.

More than 50 percent of The Outset’s social community comes from outside the U.S.

The brand has a combined social reach of 769,000 across Instagram and TikTok, and has 4,000 5-star reviews. According to the company, 30 percent of customers are men and the repeat customer rate stands at 40 percent.

The business is expecting to double its numbers this year. 

Cult Beauty will stock the brand’s Gentle Micellar Antioxidant Cleanser, Firming Vegan Collagen Prep Serum, and Nourishing Squalane Daily Moisturiser, starting from 32 pounds.

According to industry sources, the brand was expecting to reach $10 million at retail for its first year on the market in 2022, which is when it entered Sephora.

Foster said the company has been “selective about retail expansion at this early stage.”

The idea had been brewing for five years for Johansson, who suffers from very sensitive skin. She teamed up with Foster to play scientists until they came up with a clean product.

In a sea of celebrity-founded lines, The Outset considers itself an indie brand.

“We think like an indie brand and set goals for ourselves to earn the opportunity to take the next step. Last year was all about launching, learning and optimizing. This year is really about growth, engagement and capitalizing on efficient opportunities for growth,” said Foster, who is spearheading the business side.

“We have a five-year strategic plan with a product development roadmap, but it would be premature to discuss. At every stage our goal is to listen to the customer and let those insights inform future plans,” she said.

Johansson was a longtime beauty ambassador in her 20s, starring in campaigns for Dolce & Gabbana.

“I met so many generous and intelligent leaders in the beauty industry who taught me about the various business models and helped me determine which path was the right one to take in order to bring this vision to life; that’s how I determined that I wanted to do it independently with a cofounding partner,” she said, adding that it was the only way she could get her hands dirty in the process.