#telephone coaching
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georgiasedify · 16 days ago
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I'm a licensed Professional Life Coach
I'm a licensed Professional Life Coach. Listings of what I offer, business hours, how to book, and etc. Thanks!
Booking with Georgia’s Edify Email Coaching Audio Coaching Remote On – Line Office Video Facetime, Skype, Hangouts, Google Meet Consultant Mental Health Coach Life Coach Virtual Coaching Nation Wide Health and Wellness Coach Spiritual Life Coaching Telephone Coaching One On One Coaching Coaching Calls Monday10:00 am – 6:00 pmTuesday10:00 am – 6:00 pmWednesday10:00 am – 6:00���
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karis17love · 7 days ago
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hiiii could i request bonnie from telephone (runaway version) for daily just dance coaches? thank you so much 🫶🏻
ꨄ ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏᴀᴄʜᴇs ꨄ
"𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑, 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔
𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢
𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑, 𝑒ℎ."
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click the image for better quality <3
Requested by: anonymous
If you want a specific map, feel free to ask <33
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aweirdoandhisfanfics · 3 months ago
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The relation between the Lady Gaga coaches and their alts
Me last post about the Lady Gaga coaches didn't focused a lot on the alts coaches, so I decided to make this post more focused on them.
I imagine the alt version to be more conected to their normal version than to other songs, so the theories here are more contained.
Applause: I've always imagined Joan and the Countess as being the same person.
Just Dance: The P2 in the On-Stage mode is a younger Icona Shard, but the P1 and P3 appearence really reminds me of Born This Way so idk, as for the Sweat Version (AKA John Dance), i've seen someone headcanoning them as Icona's husband, and i've accepted that ever since.
Bad Romance: I imagine two connections between Claire and Daray. The first is that Claire is the drag persona o Daray, her name matches the naming conventions of the other drags that we know (they are all named after colors).
The second option is that Claire is trans, and Daray is her pre-transition self.
Between the two idk who to pick to be my main hc, maybe the trans option, I have some really funny ideas involving it, and I think it fits better to my "Mother Monster" theory.
Born This Way: Isaac would be Adameve in the past, before they discovered themself and their Mother Monster heritage, Isaac changed their name to fit themself better with the other Lady Gaga coaches names.
John Wayne: As I said this in the last Lady Gaga post, I think Jane and Janet (extreme) are sisters.
Telephone: It's pretty obvious that Bonnie and Clyde are Louise's friends, or maybe they work for Louise, or maybe they met at the jail and Louise recruited them on the spot.
Poker Face: I'm not sure about the coach for the Magician alt, she could be a normal coach with no connection, or a lost member of the Hearts dynasty, who knows, we still haven't got the full routine to see the full picture.
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hbogirls · 1 year ago
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looked up at the sky and it was the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks so scarlet it was the mark they saw on my collarbone the rust that grew between telephones the lips i used to call home so scarlet it was maroon
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lyekisses · 2 years ago
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im not someone who usually cares about sports HOWEVER when you are born and raised in philly sports country it is actually in your dna to go hogwild if the eagles make it to the superbowl
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dtaegis · 2 years ago
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ok WHAT the fuck is happening there is just dance LORE
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months ago
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translators || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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You try to give your first English interview.
Before joining Barcelona, you had never left the small Catalan village that you had grown up in. You bled Barcelona in a way that the coaches said they hadn't seen since Alexia. There would never be another club for you. They took care of you just like your family did, and you loved every single one of the culers, on the pitch and off it.
As a part of the team, you had finally gotten to leave Spain. America was fine, even if you had little to no clue what was going on. The girls were there for you, however, and you were never alone. Alexia tried her best to look out for you on her own, but she had a lot of other things to worry about. That was how you found yourself with Aitana and Keira for the majority of the trip.
You got your first minutes in the game against Bay FC. Everybody had crowded around you to congratulate you. It was perfect for a few moments until a man with a microphone approached. You had been standing with Alexia, so you tried to move for her interview. A few of the girls had laughed at something the man said, and Alexia turned to let you know that he wanted to speak with you.
"Does he speak Catalan?" you asked. Alexia shook her head, and you prepared yourself to switch to Spanish. Your Spanish wasn't perfect, but it was pretty good for someone who had started learning it as late in life as you had. Catalan was the only language that your family had believed you'd ever need. "Spanish?"
"English, but don't worry. I believe in you," Alexia said as she pushed you towards the journalist. Immediately, you were off to a rough start. He was speaking too fast for you to decipher anything, so you just looked behind you at Keira for help.
He had repeated himself a couple of times already, and Alexia had an uneasy look on her face. You started to panic, and tears sprung to your eyes, but just before you could break down, Aitana stepped in to help you. You turned around to see more of your teammates crowding in around you for support if you wanted or needed it.
"He wants to know how it felt to get your first minutes," Aitana relayed each of his questions to you. You'd give your answer in Catalan, to which Ona translated back. It felt like an overly complicated game of telephone, but you were glad for this help. Linguistics were not your strong suit at all, but you knew that with more and more players coming from different countries, it was important to learn.
"You did good," Ona complimented as the journalist began to pack up his things. You had answered a couple of questions, and as far as first interviews went, you knew that it could have been worse. Mapi told you so as you made your way back to the locker room after.
"Ale, can they get me an English teacher?" you asked your captain as everybody filed onto the bus. Alexia seemed surprised by your question. She had heard the stories of how difficult it had been to teach you Spanish at the youth academy, but she was glad that you were taking initiative in learning another language.
"You know that we don't have many English journalists in Spain, right?" Mapi asked you. You nodded, rolling your eyes at her question.
"Yes, but I will be the face of Barcelona one day, and I'll have to speak to all sorts of people, just like Ale. What if you had not known enough English to speak with Ingrid, Maria?" You watched in amusement as Mapi's face contorted dramatically. Almost immediately after her mind stopped racing, Mapi threw herself into Ingrid's arms.
"Stop teasing her. We'll get you an English teacher when we get back to Barcelona, but until then, several of the girls speak English. It's never too early to start learning," Alexia told you. You nodded and looked around until you found Keira. You figured that since English was her native language, she'd be the easiest one to learn from.
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dirtyvulture · 6 months ago
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Envy and Venom - Part 3
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4990
AN: Y'all are getting fed with this one. Have fun. :)
Click here for Part 2!
Thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping with some Russian translations lol.
DAY 34
“Do you have everything ready? Your presentation, your notes?” your dad asks.
“Yes, yes,” you tell him for what feels like the thousandth time. 
“This is where the comeback starts,” your dad says, and sometimes you wish he would just claim back his title. You were sick and tired of his coaching, even if you needed it a little bit. But if Envy Industries had gotten into this mess because of you, then you were the only person who could get them out of it. “I know I can’t be there in person–”
“I know, I know,” you dismiss. You were well aware of his vacation plans to the Maldives with his new girlfriend. Besides Envy, it was the only thing he wanted to talk about nowadays. But you still didn’t even know her name, and were certain he’d find a new one before the end of his trip.
“Tony will be there with you, right? He’ll keep you on track,” your dad continues, inching into sensitive territory now. Even though he denied it every time you confronted him, you knew he was always worried about you stepping into the CEO role because you were a woman. Hearing the doubts from the public and the competition hardly bothered you, but from your own father, it was like a punch to the face. Especially when you were not exactly proving him wrong given how things had played out since your first day.
“Who cares if Tony is there or not?” you snap, losing your patience. “He’s not the one giving the presentation. He’ll just be standing behind the curtain, stealing all the free merch, and–”
“Okay, that’s enough,” your dad cuts you off. “I want you to call me again tomorrow. We’ll run over your presentation again–”
“I’ll think about it.” You slam the handset on the receiver, a satisfying motion that could not be accomplished with modern telephonic devices. You try not to give the upcoming presentation any more thought–it was already stressing you out enough. Maybe an hour in the gym would take your mind off things. 
Your decision made, you step away from your desk to your private walk-in closet, rifling through the selection of workout clothes hanging there. All of them were custom-cut to your exact body dimensions to ensure the best fit and look. Although you were no professional athlete, you treated yourself as if you were one (and you certainly looked the part). 
But right now, you couldn’t care less what you looked like or what you were wearing as you grabbed the first set of clothes you could reach, slipping them on and grabbing your Louis Vuitton gym bag, monogrammed with your initials. You lightly jog out of your office, moving fast enough that people will think you’re in a rush and not stop you. The gym is on the tenth floor of the building, and because it’s just after lunch, most people are back at their desks. But you set your own schedule, so you’re happy to find that it isn’t too crowded and you quickly get warmed up before you start lifting.
In between sets, you check your phone, a bad habit that doesn’t exist when you’re with your training coach, but he’s not around to scold you, so you can do as you please. In the tracking app, Natasha’s red dot blinks in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, hardly three miles away from your current location in Envy Industries. 
She was hanging out at Black Widow Corporation headquarters, just where you expected her to be. She had an unsurprisingly predictable schedule, splitting her time just between work and home, which you discovered was in an apartment just a few blocks down the street from yours. You wonder if she lived on her own or with her father, who was likely paying for her housing either way. 
Natasha was not quite the self-made woman that you were. Her work was significantly more behind the scenes, which was one reason why you had never heard of her before. Alexei Shostakov was the only name you associated with Black Widow Corp. But you had done your own digging on her and her family the past few days. There was frustratingly little about Natasha and you were ready to hire a private investigator due to your lack of results. 
All you had learned was that she had graduated magna cum laude from Virginia Tech with a degree in economics, where she also held a brief internship at the university’s infamous Gamma Lab before it was shut down after the sudden death of its lead researcher. You assumed she had gone immediately to work for Black Widow Corp after her graduation; there was no other work history for her anywhere. No social media, no public interviews. This woman fascinated you more and more. 
After a final set of deadlifts, you re-rack all the weights because you’re not that much of a heathen and check your phone again. Natasha is no longer at Black Widow Corp, her red dot moving steadily through 86th Street that cut through Central Park. Your heart rate jumps, and not because of your workout. You sit down on a bench to steady yourself, watching as the red dot continues through Central Park. When she turns right on Park Avenue, you know exactly where she’s heading.
Hopefully you could intercept her first.
***********************************************************************
“Where are you going?” 
Natasha curses under her breath as she turns around to see Yelena standing in the lobby, her arms crossed over her chest like a scorned mother catching her child sneaking out of the house.
“What?” Natasha rounds on her sister, annoyed that she’s been watching her like a hawk.
“The board of directors meeting starts in seven minutes,” Yelena says, and Natasha curses under her breath because she forgot all about that.
“Dad can handle it without me,” Natasha replies, eager to get the heat off of her as soon as she can.
“They’ll be talking about CES,” Yelena reminds her, referencing the important annual show where the biggest tech companies came together in Vegas to reveal their newest inventions and products.
“You’re not going to CES,” Natasha points out, surprised her sister even knows its proper name. Since the company was going to fall on her shoulders once their father stepped down, Natasha had spent almost the entirety of her adult life learning, training, and breathing business and technology. Yelena had been able to pursue her own hopes and dreams, starting in the private security field until she had enough experience (and enough of Dad’s money) to start her own company. She was happy and thriving, something Natasha was endlessly jealous of.
Yelena had never experienced the pressure of managing billions of dollars in and out the door. She didn’t know what it was like to fight off every insecure man who couldn’t bear to do a business deal with a woman. She hadn’t spent hundreds of hours trying to learn coding languages and complicated mathematics and equations on her own. Yelena didn’t understand what Natasha had spared her from, and Natasha was afraid she would never be grateful for it.
“Yes, but you’re going to CES,” Yelena says.
“You’re not my babysitter,” Natasha snaps, turning away and marching towards the door. 
“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”
“What?” Natasha stops. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“That CEO you’re in love with.”
“Excuse me?” But Natasha’s face is flaming red as she struts over to confront her sister. “I am not in love with anyone. You know that.”
“You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with that CEO.”
“No, I’m not.”
Yelena smirks. “I own a private security company, sestra. You don’t think I know my own sister’s whereabouts and who she’s with?”
Natasha’s heart sinks, but she tries not to let it show. “Why can’t you ever just mind your own fucking business?” she growls, immediately regretting the harshness of her words when she sees her sister’s face fall. But she’s too proud to take it back.
“I don’t think it’s safe if you keep seeing her,” Yelena says. “And you don’t know what it could do for the company–”
“Why do you care about the company so much all of a sudden?” Natasha counters. “Dad’s not giving it to you when he steps down.”
“I don’t want it,” Yelena replies, although she looks hurt. “But to be quite honest, I don’t like what it’s turning you into.”
“Which is what?”
“This!” Yelena waves her arms at Natasha frantically. “It’s always ‘Black Widow this, Black Widow that.’ You don’t have any hobbies anymore. You never eat dinner with the rest of the family. You don’t go out unless it’s to see that CEO–”
Natasha interrupts her with a huff. “You wouldn’t understand, Yelena,” she says, trying a different approach and maintaining complete calm. “You can just stay holed up in your one-windowed office to spy on people and let the real adults go out in the real world and handle real shit.” With that, she spins on her heel and storms out of the building. 
***********************************************************************
“Why are you into shooting all of a sudden? Have you ever even held a gun before?” Tony asks, staring at you with a dropped jaw.
You shrug. “I need some new hobbies,” you lie.
“You’re not going to shoot someone with it, are you?” he half-jokes, his chuckle quickly dying up when you don’t laugh with him.
“No, of course not,” you mumble unconvincingly.
“Okay, well, when do you need the gun by?” he asks.
“How fast does Bucky work?”
Tony shrugs. “If I call him now, he can have one to me by the end of the day.”
“Okay.” The sooner the better, because it gave you less time to back out of your plan. “That works.”
“So, are we going big-game hunting in Africa this summer?” Tony asks, giving you a sharp nudge before starting his car.
“Maybe, maybe…” But you have a different target in mind.
The gun is surprisingly heavy, oily, and unfamiliar in your palm. Bucky had gone over the four “rules” of gun handling, which shocked you that he even knew:
Treat every gun like it was loaded
Don’t point it at something you aren’t willing to shoot.
Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.
Be mindful of your target and what’s around it.
He had given you a full box of ammo for “good luck” too, before jumping back into his car and driving away faster than you could read his license plate.
Currently, you sit in the darkness of your apartment, weighing the gun in your hand. Your heart is beating so hard against your ribcage you swear you can hear it. 
You check your phone. Natasha’s just parked her car in the parking garage. It should only take her a few minutes to ride the elevator up. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your workout clothes, worried that she would arrive at your apartment before you did, but you had just barely made it on time.
Her red dot blinks in place on your screen. She’s in the elevator.
Your eyes flit to the front door, the gun feeling even heavier in your hand. 
The seconds drag on. 
You hold your breath for as long as you can between inhalations, heart pounding, ears straining for any sound of movement outside your apartment door.
Beep, beep.
A key card–yours–registers at the door lock. The handle pushes down from the outside and you snap to attention. 
Don’t miss, you tell yourself.
The door parts open, almost hesitantly, like your uninvited intruder is suddenly unsure of themselves. In the darkness, you see a figure slip through the door and close it behind her. Her body shape gives her away immediately. The thick thighs in black jeans, the curve of her hips leading up to her narrow waist, the fullness of her bosom stretching out the tight shirt she’s wearing.
When Natasha steps into the light, she freezes when she sees you sitting at the kitchen table, gun cocked in her direction.
“It’s about time you showed up,” you greet. “Building security didn’t question you when you used my key card to get in?”
“Clearly not,” Natasha says, her stance tense and wary.
“Come sit down. We should talk,” you invite, gesturing with the gun and breaking Bucky’s rule number one. Natasha stiffly walks towards you, her face an impassive shadow. You’ve never seen her genuinely scared before and it delights you that for once, you have the upper hand on her. You kick out a chair and she sits next to you. 
“Didn’t expect this, did you?” you ask. “Probably thought you could just waltz right in here and steal more of my shit?”
“Y/N–”
“Shut the fuck up.” You’re tired of listening to her excuses. You rest the gun on the table. “Is Black Widow going to CES?”
“Yes,” she says. “Like we do every year–”
“Well, there’s going to be some changes this year,” you interrupt. “Get your phone out. Call your dad. Black Widow Corp is going to be a no-show this year.”
Natasha balks. “That…That won’t be possible.”
You pick the gun back up and point it at her, breaking rule number two. “Then make it possible.”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“You don’t think this is real?” You point the gun at the table. Rule number three. You pull the trigger. Rule number four. The gun bucks in your hand, the blast reverberating around your apartment with enough power to rattle your teeth. Natasha flinches even though you hadn’t aimed anywhere near her. “No one can hear us,” you say with a chuckle. “I had the apartment soundproofed years ago to stop the neighbors from complaining.” 
She stares at the gun.
“Take your phone out now. And call your dad.” You hope you don’t have to ask again.
With shaking hands, she finally obeys, placing her phone on the table. “Put it on speakerphone,” you demand. Natasha presses a few buttons and you hear the dial-up tone.
“Privet, doch',” Alexei booms.
“English,” you hiss.
“Hi, Dad,” Natasha says, side-eyeing you uncertainly. “We, uh…We need to talk about CES.”
“Good, I just got out of the meeting with the board–”
“Black Widow can’t show up this year.”
Alexei’s surprise is palpable. “What, Natasha? What are you talking about?”
“We need to call off our appearance,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just for this year. We’ll go again next year like we normally do–”
“What’s wrong with this year?” Alexei asks.
Natasha looks at you, her eyes begging. You shake the gun to remind her you’re serious. “I…uh…I don’t think our tech is ready for the show,” she says. “You know how disastrous it can be if we unveil something that isn’t completely ready.”
“But we’ve been working on Project Transformer for months, Natasha. It’s plenty ready–”
“No. Dad, please.” She grits her teeth. “I was looking through the code last night with the engineers. There’s a bug in the programming. It’s going to take at least a few weeks to smooth out. We can’t debut right now, Dad.”
Alexei curses in Russian. “Shit. The board really liked our presentation.”
“I know.”
“I wish you would have told me earlier.”
“I know,” Natasha repeats. “But we only just discovered it this week.” 
There is more silence, punctuated by Russian grumblings from Alexei. “Okay, okay. I’ll make a few calls. Too bad we’ll be losing out on our reservation fee too.”
“It’s a small price to pay.” Natasha’s eyes dart to you again. “Sorry for all the trouble, Dad.”
“Where are you?” Alexei asks. “We missed you at the meeting.”
“I’m out.”
“Will you come to dinner tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good, good. Proshchay, dorogaya.”
“Bye, Dad.” Alexei hangs up first.
You slowly clap your hands. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” Your chest swells with pride at your achievement. Maybe now she would have more respect for you. You know she only saw you as a piece of meat. But you were much, much more than that.
“Fuck you,” Natasha spits.
“Oh, are we still doing that?” You put the gun down on the table, this time facing it away from her. You part your legs slightly, inviting her between them. Natasha glares at you with emerald daggered eyes. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you say, your voice deepening. “I got what I wanted today. It’s only fair you don’t leave here empty-handed too.”
Natasha shoots up and marches over to you. For a second, you think she’s going to hit you, but instead she straddles your lap and kisses you so hard you’re sure she’s bruised your lips. The ferocity is both frightening and arousing as she tears off your workout shirt and shorts. She palms at your left breast roughly, sinking her nails into your abs and dragging them down to your belly button. You groan into her mouth when she bites your bottom lip. She’s never been this aggressive with you before, but you know she’s taking out her frustration on you.
And you absolutely love it.
“Now that I’m done fucking with your company, you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk?” you whisper, shoving your bare thigh between her legs. The friction from her jeans burns your skin, but you hardly register the pain. 
“You’ll have to carry me out,” Natasha says, trailing her fingers down the vein on your bicep.
“Deal.” You kiss her again, slipping your muscular arms under her thighs and standing up with her. You carry her to your bed, leaving her to undress while you grab your strap from its drawer and slip it over your legs. When you turn back, she’s shimmying off her lacy black panties and the feral urge to keep your promise overrides all your senses. 
You pick her back up and she hooks her legs around your waist, her arms circling your neck. She presses her naked chest against yours, both of you moaning in unison when your nipples brush together. You walk with her until Natasha’s back bumps into the wall, shifting her weight off your arms to the wall. You maneuver your right hand to grab onto your strap, lining it up with Natasha’s center. 
“Are you ready for me?” you ask, rubbing the tip of your cock over her soaking entrance. Natasha’s whines at your teasing, her fingers tangling in your hair and jerking at your roots painfully. 
“Fucking ruin me,” she begs.
You slam your hips forward, burying your entire cock in her in one move. Natasha screams, tearing her nails down your back. Your big hands grip onto her waist to hold her in place as you thrust into her tight heat, your abs flexing and tensing. Natasha’s body rolls with yours, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the perfect column of her neck to you. You lean forward to decorate it with your marks, so every time she undresses for the next week, she’ll be reminded of you.
The only item of “clothing” she still wears is a thin silver necklace with a rectangular charm hanging from the chain. It bounces in the hollow of her throat every time you thrust into her.
“Y/N, oh, Y/N,” Natasha chants, music to your ears as you keep your relentless pace. Your thighs, already spent from your gym session, are absolutely on fire now, so you need her to finish quickly before you drop her. You shift the angle of your hips, bumping the top of your cock against her clit with every stroke. Natasha squirms and moans, trying to find a rhythm with you, but she’s so close she can’t match you at all. 
“Tell me when you’re gonna cum, baby,” you pant. 
“Soon,” she moans. “Go harder. Don’t stop.”
You’re afraid you’re going to break her with how hard you’re thrusting into her. But finally, her body tenses in your hands and you know she’s finished all over your cock. You’re grateful to slow your thrusts as she comes down from her high, your entire body sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. You slip your arms under her quivering thighs and stumble back to the bed, collapsing onto it with your legs hanging off the edge, Natasha panting on top of you. 
You’re not sure who’s more exhausted, you or her. You lay there unmoving, trying to catch your breath, which Natasha does before you. She sits up, slowly pulling your cock out of her and crawling up your body to kiss you messily. Her tongue slips into your mouth, but you’re too tired to return her fervor very much. 
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I too much for you?” she teases, cupping your chest and pinching your nipples. 
“No, just give me a minute,” you grumble. It was rare to meet someone with stamina like hers. And as much as you prided yourself on yours, you feel like you may have met your match with Natasha Romanoff. Your arms and chest are covered in her scratch marks, and your back still stings a little. Natasha traces the scratches gently.
“Mine,” she murmurs.
“Hmm?” you grunt, not sure if you heard her correctly.
She props herself up on your chest to look at you. “I can give you a minute,” she purrs, her voice becoming husky and seductive. Natasha slides down your body, resting her knees on the floor and tugging the harness of your strap down your legs. You can hardly lift your hips high enough off the bed to help her, embarrassed by how tired you are. Natasha grabs your calves to lift your feet up one at a time to remove the harness and throw it to the side. She rubs her hand  across your defined abdomen, stoking the fire in your belly again.
“Don’t move, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Huh?” You lift your head high enough to see Natasha’s head between your legs, her mouth lowering onto you. It’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shoots through your core and you moan loudly in appreciation. Natasha makes eye contact with you as she slips her tongue into you, smiling as you pant and squirm. 
“Oh, God. Fuck me,” you gasp, dropping your head back on the bed. Your hands claw at the sheets as her tongue explores your walls. Natasha pushes apart your muscular thighs to make more room for her, pushing so deep into you her nose bumps against you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe evenly, arching your lower back off the bed in a silent plea for more. 
Natasha eats you out like she’d been starving for a week, her tongue alternating between swirling around your throbbing clit and pushing through your clenching walls.
You finally find the strength to lift your right leg, twisting it sideways at the knee and hooking it around the back of Natasha’s head, pressing your calf against her scalp and dragging her closer. You reach down with your hand to tangle it in Natasha’s flaming red hair, pushing her down so she isn’t tempted to pull away right when you reach the edge of release. 
“Nat,” you whine. “Please, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”
Natasha hums against you, the vibrations finally causing you to lose control. Your entire body goes limp as Natasha cleans up all the slick between your legs, then climbs back up to rest on you like you’re her personal pillow.
“Gimme a kiss,” you mumble and Natasha presses her lips to yours obediently. She tucks her head in the crook of your collarbone and you stroke her hair absently. “If I fall asleep, are you gonna leave again before I wake up?” you ask, your voice sounding small. 
“Only if you want me to,” Natasha murmurs. 
“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t know if I can,” you admit.
“Then don’t,” Natasha says. “Because I was thinking about it too, and…I think we should go public.”
“Public? Like us being…” You can’t even finish your own sentence.
“Mhmm.” Natasha nods against your chest.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” you scoff.
“No, I’m fucking you.”
“And you’re done. Right?” Your eyebrows scrunch together at the dual meaning of your words. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “At the very least, you owe me fifteen-billion-dollars before we can go public about anything,” you say, referencing the amount your company lost in the last month when Black Widow Corp pulled the rug out from under your feet.  
“Done.” Natasha searches around your bed for her phone. “What’s your bank account number?” 
“What are you doing? Seriously.” You’re a little lost now. 
“Well, our dads spent all their time fighting each other,” she says.
“Not fucking?” you joke.
“I can’t confirm that,” she says with a smirk. “But I was thinking about it. And I know Envy hasn’t been doing so well lately–”
“Because you sabotaged our contracts and stole our ideas,” you remind her.
Again, Natasha does not confirm nor deny this fact. “But what if instead of competing, we…helped each other out?”
“Like a collaboration?” you ask. Your father had specifically warned you against any kind of “collaboration” work with another company. You weren’t running a YouTube channel. You had a multibillion-dollar business. It was your responsibility to look out for the well-being of your company and your company only, damn philanthropic endeavors, personal favors, and relationships.
“We can work something out,” Natasha insists.
“Did you go through all of this just to ask me that?” you ask.
“No.” Now, Natasha looks away from you. “I mean, at first, yes. I thought you would just be a hot one-night stand. And yes, you were–” You raise an eyebrow. “–But you’re also a lot more than that.” Validation burns through your veins to hear this. “You’re smart, you know the tech, and you know how to run a business. And you’re the hottest CEO in the country and the best person who’s ever taken me to bed,” Natasha says. You think you’re going to combust at the praise. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about us. And what we could accomplish together.”
It takes a few seconds to let her words process. “I don’t know how this could work,” you say, the logical side of you taking over for once. “We’re not regular people, Nat. The future of this country is literally in our hands. The public watches our every move and criticizes every decision we make. People like us need whole PR teams to manage their relationships.”
“Fuck the PR teams,” Natasha says. “If we like each other, then why can’t we be together?”
It had been years since you had publicly been in a relationship with someone. After all, it was so much simpler to cycle through partners and not have to worry about commitment or any long-term decisions. But deep down, you were cripplingly lonely and terrified you wouldn’t be able to find someone who would settle with you. 
Because truth be told, your lifestyle was not for many. Most people couldn’t handle the pressure you were subjected to every day. The never-ending torrents of judgment. The borderline-criminal way you were stalked by reporters and paparazzi. The unreal expectations you were held to by people you’d never even met.
But out of all the people you had ever been with, Natasha Romanoff was the one with the best chance of understanding all that. She knew what she was getting herself into, because your life would be her reality the day her father passed on the company. Of course it wouldn’t hurt her to get some practice beforehand.
“I want you to be mine,” Natasha says suddenly. She reaches up to her neck, her fingers brushing the hickeys you left there, before unclipping the silver necklace. She puts it around yours, flipping the charm around so you can see that it reads “Natasha.”
“Baby…” You didn’t even care what your dad’s reaction to hearing the news would be. How would the public react? The consumers? The shareholders? At your level, it was unavoidable crossing the line between professional and personal interests. People would either cheer you on or vow to never use another Envy product again.
But Envy had been tanking ever since you took the helm. Maybe this was what you needed to bounce back…courtesy of the same woman who ruined you in the first place. The math seemed to add up–Natasha would cancel out herself, wouldn’t she?
Natasha interlaces her fingers with yours, distracting your thinking. “We could be the most powerful couple in the tech industry. In the world,” she says. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
“Yes,” you sigh, although that’s not really the truth. There was one thing you wanted more than power, money, and fame.
“Then don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” She squeezes your fingers. “With me, you’ll have everything you want and more.”
A rush of emotions suddenly overwhelms you–fear, annoyance, love, envy, and venom. You would kick yourself in the head if you missed out on the chance to be with Natasha, but you also weren’t entirely convinced this was the right move. 
“Y/N.” The way she says your voice is desperate and pleading, like she too can’t be without you.
“Okay.” You make up your mind in an instant. “Okay, baby. Let’s do it.”
Natasha beams, snuggling closer to you. The two of you say nothing further, and her steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep. Natasha holds onto you even as she feels your body relax under her. She turns her head to look at the gun you left on the table, wondering what it would feel like in her hand, to hold against your head.
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AN: These two are for real going to be the death of me. 😩
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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princessnamora · 7 months ago
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How Marilyn Monroe changed Ella Fitzgerald’s life
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If asked “Who played an important role in the musical career of Ella Fitzgerald?” you might respond with names like Chick Webb, Louis Armstrong, Norman Granz, and Dizzy Gillespie.
The name Marilyn Monroe (who passed away 50 years ago this August), however, might not come to mind.
While touring in the ’50s under the management of Norman Granz, Ella, like many African-American musicians at the time, faced significant adversity because of her race, especially in the Jim Crow states. Granz was a huge proponent of civil rights, and insisted that all of his musicians be treated equally at hotels and venues, regardless of race.
Despite his efforts, there were many roadblocks and hurdles put in to place, especially for some of the more popular African-American artists. Here is one story of Ella’s struggles (as written in chicagojazz.com):
Once, while in Dallas touring for the Philharmonic, a police squad irritated by Norman’s principles barged backstage to hassle the performers. They came into Ella’s dressing room, where band members Dizzy Gillespie and Illinois Jacquet were shooting dice, and arrested everyone. “They took us down,” Ella later recalled, “and then when we got there, they had the nerve to ask for an autograph.”
Across the country, black musicians, regardless of popularity, were often limited to small nightclubs, having to enter through the back of the house. Similar treatment was common at restaurants and hotels.
Enter Marilyn Monroe
During the ’50s, one of the most popular venues was Mocambo in Hollywood. Frank Sinatra made his Los Angeles debut at Mocambo in 1943, and it was frequented by the likes of Clark Gable, Charlie Chaplin, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall and Lana Turner.
Ella Fitzgerald was not allowed to play at Mocambo because of her race. Then, one of Ella’s biggest fans made a telephone call that quite possibly changed the path of her career for good. Here, Ella tells the story of how Marilyn Monroe changed her life:
“I owe Marilyn Monroe a real debt … she personally called the owner of the Mocambo, and told him she wanted me booked immediately, and if he would do it, she would take a front table every night. She told him – and it was true, due to Marilyn’s superstar status – that the press would go wild. The owner said yes, and Marilyn was there, front table, every night. The press went overboard. After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again. She was an unusual woman – a little ahead of her times. And she didn’t know it.”
Learning from Ella
Ella had an influence on Marilyn as well. Monroe’s singing had a tendency to be overshadowed by dress-lifting gusts of wind and the flirtatious “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” not to mentions her movies and marriage to Joe DiMaggio. But years prior to the Mocambo phone call, Monroe was studying the recordings of Ella.
In fact, it was rumored that a vocal coach of Monroe instructed her to purchase Fitzgerald’s recordings of Gershwin music, and listen to it 100 times in a row.
Continued study of Ella actually turned Marilyn into a relatively solid singer for about a decade, but again became overlooked as her famous birthday tribute song to JFK in 1962 ends up being the vocal performance that is widely remembered.
Source: How Marilyn Monroe changed Ella Fitzgerald’s life – Groove Notes by KNKX
@hotvintagepoll
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taintandviolent · 3 months ago
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・❥・All fics are female!reader, and 18+. Please read warnings on fic summary!
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Watch You Bleed (Dark Fic - JPM x Reader)
Deflowering (JPM x virgin!reader)
Tendencies (au doctor!JPM x reader)
Le Petit Mort (JPM x Reader)
Kinktober 1: Overstimulation (JPM x reader)
Go for a Drive (JPM x Reader)
Devil's Favours (JPM x Reader)
Thrill of the Rush (JPM x Reader)
Trick or Treat (JPM x Reader)
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JPM / When the Night Begins to Fall
JPM x Teasing/Denying
JPM x Body Worship
JPM / "You Can't Leave Me [Angst Prompt]
JPM x Getting killed so he never leaves reader
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Fellatio Coaching (JPM)
Kill God (JPM)
Good Girls (JPM)
Make Love Or Kill (JPM)
Smooth Criminal (JPM)
Telephone Call (JPM)
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karis17love · 4 months ago
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Bonnie & Clyde for daily just dance coaches? 💕
ꨄ ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏᴀᴄʜᴇs ꨄ
"𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒."
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If you want a specific map, feel free to ask <33
Requested by: @iamoboe
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halfratsalready · 4 months ago
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JD Dancer Appreciation Vol. 3: Sarah Magassa 🦋
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Sarah Magassa is absolutely stunning and so incredibly talented. I love how expressive she is in all of her maps. She makes every map feel so genuine with her facial expressions, and it always draws me in and makes it impossible not to really feel the emotions of any coach she’s portraying. Her expressions as Blessing are absolutely phenomenal. Her joy is so infectious! If Mickael Lips is the king of facial expressions, Sarah is 100% the queen! Also, I can’t talk about Sarah without mentioning that I’m a huge Mothigan stan. Sarah has been in a lot of maps for the franchise and I look forward to any and all that she does in the future!
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Mothigan: Good Ones, Cure For Me
Bonnie: Telephone (Runaway Version), Telephone
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Onyx: Buttons, Don’t Cha
Blessing: Calm Down
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Adameve & Countess Butterfly: Telephone
Kan’Dake: Ma Itù
Other maps: All About Us, Boombayah, High Hopes, Ice Cream, Kill This Love, Not Your Ordinary, Policeman, Rain On Me, Run The World (Girls), Run The World (Girls) [Extreme], Temperature, Worth It
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herejusttosufferalong · 2 months ago
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Pancake anon here! I see I’ve been summoned.
To be honest with you all, I’m at a place of just sitting back and seeing what happens and not letting myself theorize too much. Whatever is happening right now, L & N are end game and they will get there.
BUT when I do let myself theorize about what’s going on, I personally still think that the A & L unraveling is/has been happening. As stated in my last few asks, I don’t think things ending with them will be a quick break. I think it will take some back and forth. A few break attempts with a few rounds of coming back together before the final end.
L does not know how to be alone and A is not going to go easily. Their anxious attachment styles also aren’t going to make this easy. I think there likely has been some attempts at a break up already with at least one or two rounds of coming back together. I kind of think Spain may have been an attempt at reconciling/rekindling things.
And yes I think she was in Spain with him. The evidence is clear. And yes I think the Spain trip was also recent. I love to be delulu, but we also have to base it on reality. BUT, I do not think the cake selfie was shade and I’m in the camp that he actually took it to send to N. I don’t think they are talking a ton right now, and there is likely some tension, but I personally think they still text each other in ways that are more than friendly. (Especially if they’ve been drinking)
I also think there is something up with R and L. I’m fairly certain R & S have broken up based on the R unfollow and S following the break up coach on TT. But my spidey senses also think he and L are not on good terms, which may be leading to the prolonging of an end with A. It would be a lot to deal with at once. Another gut feeling is that S & A are not on good terms. Why all of this is, yet to be determined. But it seems the group as a whole is unraveling.
The JD of it all has been a confusing component. My gut is still having a hard time accepting him as an actual partner of N, even though I’ve looked at all the evidence and, as I’ve said, try to really stay grounded in reality with all of this. But it does just feel very off. This is a component I have tried to stop over analyzing because it makes no sense.
The biggest delulu thought I have at this time, that I can’t let go of, is that the Telephone Song was definitely for L. I will die on that hill.
Really interested to see what shifts and what we see once filming starts. Hopefully in a few weeks I’ll have more thoughts. But for now I’m just letting it play out and not trying to get stressed about what we are or aren’t seeing.
I know that’s not very exciting, but it’s what I’ve got for you!
💜🥃
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phoebebridgerswife · 7 months ago
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after alerting some of my fav wbb blogs like a mf telephone line that i met some favs at the draft last night, here’s an overall review.
-Met Nika and got a selfie!! ACTUALLY the nicest person I’ve ever met. She was my fav person I saw that night, so kind and genuine. I thanked her for what she does for women’s sports and SHE GRABBED MY SHOULDER and said “awwww thank you so much!!!” I’m died.
-Met king Geno, he was such a grandpa I lived for it
-Met CC she she signed my ticket!!!
-Met Coach bluder and had like a 1 on 1 convo with her she was super chill and down to earth
-Talked to Jada rq bc she was standing behind me and my friend
-at the very end we decided to grow some balls and meet Paige and Azzi and HOLY FUCK they looked so good. They were like the section next to us we were freaking out the entire time. We got a selfie with them it was great (wished azzi luck with her recovery so if she’s in back real soon y’all know who to thank)
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lightning-and-sparks · 3 months ago
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Connecting the Gaga’s to Night Swan since Ubisoft won’t 💅 (Theory)
Ok here’s the Theory,
In 2022 we are introduced to Shadow Rider. A Gaga variant who appears in Judas. Shadow Rider is accompanied by these faceless black beings who somewhat mimic and support what she is doing.
One thing I realized was that these beings look an awful lot like the Swan Soldiers from their faceless expressions down to their feathered arms.
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This theory suggests that Night Swan did not invent the magic necessary to be able to enslave coaches and instead learned it from someone else. Shadow Rider doesn’t have much story but because she is present in Telephone she may be a key part.
I believe Night Swan captured the Gaga’s (SR especially) so she could learn/absorb and even alter the existing spells in order to create the swan soldiers. SR’s minions serve as the prototype for the current Swan soldiers and time-wise wise it makes sense because Judas is a map that came out the year prior to NS’s introduction.
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The proto-minions bear a striking resemblance to NS’s soldiers. It’s almost uncanny that they do given the countless possibilities. Night Swan capturing the Gaga coaches is still a huge mystery but seeing as they aren’t turned into minions they must be too valuable to lose.
But that’s just a theory…
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