#wales v australia
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landosfenestraz · 1 year ago
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WE’RE IN THE QUARTERFINALS BABYYYYYYY
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superbeans89 · 1 year ago
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Wales 40 - 6 Australia
Those watching Wales’ progress across this World Cup may still think they’re dreaming. Written off by their own countrymen initially, they barely scraped past Fiji, and then they were troubled by Portugal.
But now they’ve broken records against Australia. With the biggest margin they’ve ever set against the Wallabies, they stroll into the quarterfinals, and Australia go home once the pool matches are over.
That’s two time world champions Australia. How low they’ve sunk.
Absolutely nothing went right for the men in gold, notching up just two penalty kicks and watching a one point deficit grow into a 34 point chasm. Strangely, Wales only managed three tries in this devastation, so they won’t receive a bonus point for their victory, but with qualification secured, and only an unlikely loss to Georgia stopping them from winning the pool entirely, it appears that Warren Gatland’s tactics have gained traction.
Australia will finish their World Cup with a match against Portugal, which they would hope to win. But it’s a fair bet that long suffering coach Eddie Jones will have to dust off his CV after this disaster. That’s if he doesn’t have to go into hiding.
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sparksinger · 1 year ago
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i showered today. and i cleaned a bit.
not much to be proud of, but i am glad i managed those two things at least.
now i am going to watch the wales/australia rugby match and try to do some fic writing.
we just got a try! ♥
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allylovesyaxx · 2 years ago
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when the saints … 🤍❤️🐉🫀
@bigballsacksammy
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whats-in-a-sentence · 3 months ago
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The claim of 'dangerous product' was also addressed in the NSW Court of Appeal in Mehta v Commonwealth Bank of Australia by Justice Roderick Meagher, who said:
A foreign currency loan is largely a gamble; consequently, it would be unattractive to the timid and the prudent. Nonetheless, there are perfectly rational people who are prepared to gamble; and it is notorious that many borrowers did enter into such transactions at the time without suffering any damage, some of whom actually made a profit. All the experts agreed that it was reasonable for an informed borrower to enter into such transactions. One cannot but have an uneasy feeling that a dogmatic view that such loans are necessarily irrational will lead to the imposition of liability on lenders where justice does not require it.
"Westpac: The Bank That Broke the Bank" - Edna Carew
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virtie333 · 9 months ago
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Paint It Black
Yovanna is starting a new life in Australia, but she would be happier if the man who helped her get there could share that life with her.
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My first Triple Frontier fic, written in honor of the Netflix movie's 5th anniversary. It's just a simple love story, what I would have wished to see happen for Santiago and Yovanna.
@triplefrontier-anniversary
Rated NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Only!): Includes protected P in V and mirror sex.
Cross-posted on AO3
5.6k words (sorry, not sorry!)
Inspired by this gifset!
“Katia?”
It took almost two full seconds for Yovanna to respond to the teenage girl behind the counter; she was still not used to that name. Katia Hernàndez was who she was now, but despite living with that name for the last six months, she still had a hard time remembering to respond to it. She wondered if she would ever find it easy.
She turned toward the front of the delicatessen, where sixteen-year-old Maggie was looking at her expectantly, a plastic bag on the counter in front of her. The girl smiled when Yovanna looked her way, and Yovanna smiled back.
“Sorry, I was distracted.”
Maggie giggled. “Yeah, my mind likes to wander a lot, too.”
Yovanna walked over to the counter to take the bag with her purchases. “Gracias,” she told the girl.
“De nada,” Maggie responded. “Is that right?”
Yovanna smiled. “Si, that’s one way to say ‘thank you’.”
A woman came up behind Maggie, grinning. “You know, she had no interest in learning a foreign language until you started shopping here,” Lauren said. Blonde like her daughter, Lauren Oggelby owned and operated Oggelby Deli, one of the few delicatessens in Kiama, New South Wales. Seeing as it was just down the street from the apartment Yovanna shared with her little brother Emiliano – Ezra now, she reminded herself – it was the only deli she had been to in this town. The straightforward friendliness of Lauren and Maggie made it feel comfortable and safe.
Safe was not something Yovanna was used to.
“I want to learn it so well I can have a full conversation with you in Spanish,” Maggie said, responding to her mother’s comment.
Yovanna nodded. “Well, from what I understand, it’s a lot easier to learn Spanish than English, so be glad you already know the hard one.”
Maggie laughed while Lauren nodded. “You speak it fluently,” she observed.
“My mother was raised in the United States,” Yovanna said, making sure she didn’t say where in the U.S. “I grew up speaking both Spanish and English.”
“I want to visit Guatemala someday,” Maggie said dreamily. “It sounds beautiful.”
Yovanna smiled again. “It is.” She shrugged. “I better get going. I’ll see you both later!” She didn’t dare speak any more about the country she was from, especially since it wasn’t Guatemala. The two women waved at her and said their goodbyes as Yovanna left the store. She slipped on her sunglasses and headed down the sidewalk, away from the beach which was only a quarter of a mile away to the east. She would probably end up there later today; she usually did. She loved the ocean, though she had rarely seen it before coming to Australia six months ago. She would be content to live next to the sea for the rest of her life.
She arrived at the gate to the small complex she lived in. At the moment, it was only temporary, as she hoped to find a nice house in the near future, but odds were good Emiliano would stay here. He had started on-line classes just a few weeks ago, and Yovanna knew he wanted to become more independent; they had been in each other’s pockets since they had arrived, and they were both ready to start living their own lives now that things seemed to be settled.
Kiama was a beautiful, quiet place, and Yovanna was ready to call it home.
Yovanna climbed to the second floor of the complex, then walked to the third door down. She unlocked it, then nearly ran into her brother as he was heading out. “Where are you off to?” she asked in Spanish.
“I’m going to Ted’s,” he told her in English. He was determined to fit in to his new home by rarely speaking his native language. He wanted to rid himself of any accent other than Australian. “Then I have a date with Margo tonight, so I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
Yovanna felt a tug of anxiety and tried to ignore it. Emiliano had been doing well since they had arrived to this new country with new names and forged documents. His short jaunt in jail in Colombia, and the terror of having been in the discotech in Tarapacà when it was raided and almost destroyed by police, had set him back on a safer course. Money was not an issue for them anymore, and drugs had fortunately not become an addiction before his arrest. Their arrest, actually. Only she had gotten away.
With the help of one of those ‘cops.’
“Well, have fun,” she responded, also in English. “But not too much fun. Make sure you use protection.”
She couldn’t help but smile as her little brother, who stood taller than her and was very much a mature young man, blushed. “I will,” he mumbled before heading past her out of the apartment.
Sighing, Yovanna took the bag into the kitchen and began to put away the meats and cheeses and spreads she had purchased, her mind drifting, as it often did, to the ‘cop’ who had helped her and her brother get here. She wondered where he was. What he was doing. Had he made it out of Colombia safely? Had he and his friends gotten all that money over the mountains? Was he now lazing on some beach somewhere, some beautiful blonde in a bikini feeding him cholados?
She shook her head, chastising herself. She needed to stop thinking about him. He most likely had forgotten about her. Hell, she didn’t even know his name!
She finished putting away her purchases and leaned back against the counter, remembering the last day she had seen him, when she and Emiliano had started their journey to Australia with three million dollars. She remembered the question his friend, another former soldier, had asked her. “After you had sex…” She scoffed. She wished that had been the case. For the almost thirteen months she had known ‘Consejero,’ he had never once done anything improper or propositioned her in any way. She had often wondered why, as other ‘officials’ she had known, American or otherwise, had never been shy about requesting sex in exchange for protection and secrecy.
And Lord knows if he had requested that of her, she would not have refused.
But he never did. Though there were times… no. She was fooling herself, thinking she had often read more in his gaze than was most likely there. That he cared about her. That he worried about her.
That he loved her.
She groaned out loud and pushed herself away from the counter, moving toward the refrigerator, intent on getting something cold to drink. Though the AC in the apartment worked wonderfully, thinking about Consejero always made her heat up. She needed to follow her brother’s example and find someone here. Goodness knows she had already been asked out by enough people since her arrival. It didn’t matter that she was always comparing them to him. And always found them lacking.
There was a sharp, sudden knock on the door and it made her jump. She shook her head at her own nervousness and moved toward the door, wondering if it was her brother. Maybe he had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, then stood in silent shock as she saw who was on the other side.
As if she had conjured him with her thoughts, Consejero himself was here.
XXXXX
Yovanna stared at the man standing outside her doorway, her eyes quickly assessing him, noticing the changes from the last time she had seen him. His hair was longer, the grey a little less pronounced in the thicker curls. He had the familiar 5-o’clock-shadow, but his face seemed narrower, his cheekbones more pronounced, as if he had lost weight. His broad shoulders also seemed sharper under his dark grey button down, and as her gaze trailed down his body to his khaki cargo pants, she realized he was indeed skinny. Too skinny.
She brought her eyes back up to meet his. Chocolate brown and as intense as always, this was something that hadn’t changed. She opened her mouth to speak, but the shock of his appearance kept her silent.
“Hello, Yovanna,” he said softly, his heavy brows low as he watched her carefully.
“Katia,” she said automatically in reply.
He huffed slightly and the corner of his mouth curled up. “Katia.” He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “If you want me to leave and pretend I never saw you-“
“No!” she interrupted him. She stepped back. “Come in, please?”
He did as she asked, walking past her toward her living room. His cologne, subtle and alluring, caught her attention. That also hadn’t changed, she thought as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Delicious. She opened her eyes and closed the door, locking it immediately as she had become accustomed to. She turned and followed him into the living room.
He turned to face her, his expression uncertain. “Where’s Duke?”
She rolled her eyes at her brother’s nickname. “Ezra is with friends.”
“He’s doing well?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She paused, and when he didn’t continue, she rushed ahead. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t bother asking how he had found her; he had been the one to have the fake passports and documents made. He knew more about her new persona than she did. The question that she needed answered was why he was here.
He bit his lip, and she tried not to think about what that action did to her physically, then he met her eyes with his own. There was a strange desolation in them, a sadness she didn’t remember seeing in his eyes before. She had witnessed him angry and concerned, and she had seen those eyes light up with laughter, but never had she seen him like this.
“What happened?” she whispered, knowing it wasn’t good.
He gave a heavy sigh and moved to sit down on one of the stools that sat along the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Everything wrong,” he told her.
“You didn’t get the money out, did you?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “Not much.”
“Did everyone make it?” she whispered, instinctively knowing that while losing all that money would be devastating, losing one of his friends would be worse.
His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed as he looked away from her, then he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Redfly didn’t,” he mumbled.
“Redfly?” she said. She hadn’t known the men he had brought to take down Lorea, but he had told her that she could trust them. That he trusted them with his life. And she had overheard them talking with each other. “He was the one that didn’t trust me, wasn’t he?”
He gave another sharp nod, then looked at her. “And I’m not going to deny how pleased I was to prove him wrong about you,” he said softly. “But he was off his game. We all were.”
“I’m sorry,” Yovanna said softly, and she meant it. While she might not have had a good experience with the man, he was still this man’s friend. And she cared about this man. Too much.
He shrugged. “What money we got out, we gave to his family,” he continued. “I’ve just been… wandering since. Can’t go back to Colombia. Can’t go back to the States.”
She nodded. “Diego and his men know your real name,” she said. And they had plenty of contacts in the States. She huffed a laugh. “So, you came to the one person you know who actually benefitted from your heist.”
He furrowed his brows for a moment, then his eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. “Oh, no! That’s not why I’m here,” he argued. “I may not be a millionaire, but I’ve still got plenty of my own money from investments keeping me afloat. I…”
She laughed at his defensiveness and moved to the refrigerator in the kitchen. Opening it, she pulled out a couple bottles of Schweppes lemonade and handed one to him. “It doesn’t matter,” she told him, trying to believe it herself. The idea that he had come for her and just her was too much to hope for. “It’s not like Emiliano… I mean Ezra and I are going to need all that money. It started out as yours, and you are welcome to a share.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s yours. I don’t care if you keep the majority in hiding or invest it or give it all away to charity, it’s yours.” His dark eyes were focused on her intently once more. “I came here because I missed you.”
Yovanna sat on the stool next to him, but couldn’t look at him. Instead, she focused on opening the bottle in her hand.
He continued. “I missed talking to you. I missed complaining about all those little things that annoy me to you, and getting your sympathy. You were the only person I really trusted in Tarapacà, dare I say my only friend there?” He paused, waiting for her to look at him. “I missed your smile. Your laugh. The way you glared at me when I teased you.”
She finally looked at him, searching his face, but she saw no duplicity there. Despite their official relationship, she believed he had never lied to her. And she had never lied to him, which is why he had been so angry with her after the discotech raid. “I wasn’t like any of your other informants, was I?” she asked, and she couldn’t help the bit of sarcasm in her voice.
Either he didn’t pick up on it or he chose to ignore it. “No, you weren’t. And you were my only one in the end. The only one I trusted.”
Yovanna took a sip of her drink, then shook her head again. “I always wondered why you treated me different,” she told him. “Carmen and Lucia had much different relations with you.” Carmen was one of the secretaries in the office she had worked at, the one where most of Lorea’s money was funneled through. And Lucia was her friend who worked as a housekeeper for several of Lorea’s men in Tarapacà. It was through them that this man had found her, a lowly accountant, who knew far more about the coming and going of all that dirty money than most of her coworkers.
He seemed to pull back at her words, knowing now what she was getting at. Carmen and Lucia had both commented more than once that he ‘paid them well,’ both in and out of bed.
He watched her silently for a long moment. “You’re wondering why I didn’t fuck you, aren’t you?”
She felt her face heat, which was crazy. Yovanna wasn’t an innocent, though it had been a very long time since she had been in a relationship with a man. Since before she met this one, in fact. She tried to shake her head to deny his question, but she couldn’t.
“There’s two very good reasons why I never asked you for that kind of arrangement,” he told her, his voice hardening. “One was that I knew you weren’t that kind of woman. Lucia and Carmen both used sex to control the men in their lives on a regular basis. It was an exchange as easy as money to them. I knew you were different.” He took a deep breath. “And two… I knew I could love you.”
Yovanna’s eyes shot up to his face. Had she heard him right? Had he actually used the word love? She was literally speechless at his comment, but as she searched his face, she once more found no evidence of deceit. If anything, he looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure he should have admitted something so dangerous.
When her silence continued, he grimaced and nodded. Setting the unopened bottle of lemonade on the counter, he stood. “I just wanted to be sure you and your brother were doing okay. It looks like you found a perfect home, and I hope you are happy here. I don’t want to upset that peace. Goodbye, Yovanna.” He paused and smiled slightly. “I mean Katia.” He nodded and turned toward her door.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said, hating how desperate her voice sounded.
He stopped and turned back as he reached the door. “Santiago,” he told her. “Santiago Garcia.”
She slid off the stool and walked quickly toward him. “Don’t go, Santiago. Please, don’t leave.”
“Give me a reason to stay,” he responded, his voice rough.
She reached for his hand, taking it in both of hers and rubbing his calloused palm gently. She brought it up to her mouth and kissed his rough knuckles, then looked him in the eye. Slowly, deliberately, she turned and tugged on his hand, coaxing him to follow her to her bedroom.
He didn’t resist.
XXXXX
Santiago.
The name rolled around in her head like the lyrics to a favorite song. Santiago. It was perfect for him. It was strong and masculine, but caring and empathetic, like the stories of the saints she learned as a child. Santiago.
As soon as the door to her bedroom closed behind them, he had her pinned to the wall, her arms up with their fingers entwined, his mouth on hers. She reciprocated by writhing against him, meeting his tongue with her own in a sensuous dance. As his lips dropped to her neck, she pulled her hands free, reaching down to work on the buttons of his shirt. He responded by grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it up and over her head. She stepped away from him a bit so she could toe off her shoes and he moved to sit on the corner of her bed so he could remove his boots.
She followed him there, bending over to work on his shirt once more. He tried kissing her while they both worked, missing her mouth and connecting with her cheek or her ear over and over again until she was giggling. When she looked at him, the crow’s feet around his eyes grew as his smile widened. The darkness in his eyes had faded.
She straightened and reached behind her for the clasp of her bra, slowly letting it slide down her arms. His eyes became intense once more as he watched her, slowly taking off his now unbuttoned shirt. As he focused on her bare breasts, she ran her eyes over his chest. While he had indeed lost weight in the last few months, he was still beautiful. Muscled without looking like a body builder, his copper skin tantalizing. His chest was hairless, but the trail of hair that began under his navel and disappeared under his waistband was alluring.
“Wait!” he said suddenly, and she brought her eyes up to meet his. “I seriously wasn’t expecting this,” he told her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes huge. “I don’t have protection.”
Yovanna smiled slightly and walked over to the dresser next to the bed. She opened the top drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, then brought them back to Santiago. “I bought them for my brother, but he assured me he had his own.” She tossed the box onto the bed next to him.
He looked at them, then looked at her, and the excitement she saw in his eyes sent a shot of electricity through her. He began to unbuckle his belt, and she started to work on the fly of her lightweight trousers, quickly sliding them off as he stood and removed his, boxers and all. He stepped into her before she could get a good look at his impressive erection, wrapping his arms tight around her and finding her mouth with his own once more. She let herself sink into his kiss, feeling her whole body shiver at the feel of his naked skin against hers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her hands sweep along his shoulders and the back of his neck. Her fingers found the scar there, and she gently massaged the area. She knew he had gotten surgery on his neck only a few months before the heist had taken place; he had returned home to the States for it, and she had missed him while he had been gone. His mouth once more dropped down to her neck, but then she felt him still. She pulled back slightly to look at him, and realized he was looking behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see what had caught his attention away from her.
It was their own reflection in the floor length mirror on her closet door. She felt her heart start to race as she watched his hands smooth down her naked back, cupping her almost-bare bottom; she was still wearing a pair of teal-colored panties.
Suddenly, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around with a growl deep in his throat. As she faced their reflection, she caught sight of his cock, which looked even more massive than before now that he was fully aroused, and then she felt it pressed against the upper curve of her buttocks. His arms came around her once more, one hand cupping her breast and squeezing it lightly, the other dropping down between her legs, his fingers delving into her panties to burrow into her wet heat. She cried out, both the feel of him and the sight of them in the mirror shooting her arousal into orbit.
“So fucking wet,” he murmured roughly against her neck, his fingers playing with her sensitive folds. “So fucking wet for me.”
His words made her whimper, and she rocked her hips against his touch.
“Look at me!” His words were harsh and made her jump. She hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes. She opened them to look at him in the mirror, making eye contact through their reflection. “Tell me you want this!” he demanded. “Tell me now or I walk out of here.”
And he would, she knew. He would stop if she didn’t give him the okay. This man, a trained killer, would leave her alone if she asked, even as fully aroused as he was right now. Holding his powerful gaze, she nodded. “I want this.”
He brought his hand out from between her legs and plucked at her panties. “Off!” he told her as he backed toward the bed, grabbing the box she had put there and ripping it open. She slid her panties off as he removed a condom, preparing it and sliding it on. She had turned to watch him and didn’t hide that fact. ¡Dios mío! He was thick! She felt her pussy weep even more fluid at the thought of him inside of her. He finished and stepped toward her again. Briefly he made eye contact once more before grasping her shoulders and turning her away from him again. He pushed her forward gently, toward the mirror.
She realized what he was doing and she began to pant in excitement. When she was close, she leaned forward, her hands on the mirror. She looked up to see him move behind her and grasp her hip with one hand. She felt his cock come up between her legs, but he didn’t push in. Instead, he used his other hand to run it all over her dripping pussy, covering the condom with her juices. She moaned at the sensation, her hips moving counter to his actions. “¡Dios!” she cried, feeling an orgasm already threatening.
“Hermosa?” His throaty gasp caught her attention, and she looked up again, meeting his questioning gaze in the mirror.
She nodded quickly. “¡Ahora!”
Without any resistance, he slid into her. She cried out, smiling at the absolute pleasure his invasion brought her. “Yes!” she cried out in English.
“Fuck!” he responded. “You’re so tight! Please, tell me I’m not hurting you!” His voice was desperate.
“Santiago,” she said, her voice breathy as she continued to pant. “Santiago, please, fuck me!”
And he did, his hips immediately thrusting into her at a steady and solid pace. She dropped her head, unable to keep on watching their reflection in front of her, her sole focus on the feelings his body was creating in hers. She was so full, but she wanted more. She pushed back into him, encouraging him without words to move faster. He responded by quickening his pace, but he grumbled at her as he did so. “I’m trying to take this slow, Querida.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his words. “I don’t want slow. We can go slow next time!”
“Fuck, yeah!” he said, his grip on her hips tightening. “Next time!” He began to pound into her harshly, and she laughed again in pure joy. Yes!!!!
“Oh, Dios!” she cried. She was almost there!
Suddenly, he dropped one of his hands down, reaching around in front of her to tease her clit. “Come on my fucking cock!” he hissed in her ear.
His touch combined with his words sent her over the edge and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her body convulse, her pussy squeezing him tight, her legs tremoring. She saw stars. Or maybe they were fireflies. She wasn’t sure and she really didn’t care. She was crying, tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks. Her legs began to give out and Santiago moved his arm up to wrap around her waist, holding her tight against him.
When she was able to focus again, she realized he wasn’t moving. His cock was still buried deep inside her, but he was simply holding her. She looked up at him in the mirror, afraid and embarrassed of her reaction. He was smiling softly at her, his eyes wide and almost black with passion and… dare she think it? Love?
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
She gathered her strength and straightened her legs, standing on her own again. His grip loosened, then he let her go completely and backed away, sliding out of her.
“No!” she couldn’t help but gasp. He wasn’t done. Just because she had had the most amazing orgasm of her life didn’t mean they were done!
His smile got bigger as he took her hand and led her toward the bed.
He sat on it and pushed himself back, laying down with his head on her pillows. His smile had turned into a smirk. “Come on, Cariño. You know what I want you to do.”
Yovanna climbed onto the bed on her knees and shuffled over to him. She threw one leg over his hips and settled on his thighs, his still rock-hard cock in front of her, teasing her super sensitive clit. Taking a deep breath, she rose up on her knees and grabbed his cock, then carefully mounted him. She was still so wet, he slid in easily, and she closed her eyes as she absorbed the feeling of him filling her once again, this time touching places he hadn’t in their previous position.
“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “Perfect.”
She opened her eyes to see him looking to where they were joined. She also looked down, rather amazed that she could take him all, then she looked back at him. He was watching her now, and as she made eye contact with him, he lifted his hands toward her, fingers outstretched, in invitation.
She accepted, meeting his hands with her own, palm to palm, fingers intertwined once more. She began to rock, back and forth, with her hips. She leaned down to kiss him, bringing their joined hands up to rest just above his head on the pillow. He moaned into her mouth, letting her take control this time around, and apparently loving it. Eventually, they let go of each other so they could take their time touching each other. Yovanna played with his hair, running her fingers through it as she had imagined doing so many times before. Santiago let his fingers toy with her breasts, thumbing her nipples, then massaging her curves. They never stopped kissing.
As her rocking became faster, his hands moved down her back to her buttocks, the tips of his finger straying down to where they were joined, then up to tease her asshole briefly, making her squeal in surprise. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, she realized, just nothing she had tried before. Interesting. She pushed herself up straight once more, using her strong thighs to push herself up and down on him now. He also sat up, diving in to lick and suck on first her breasts, then her neck. He found her pulse point and began to suck hard; she knew he was marking her and didn’t care. Her bouncing increased in speed and his grip on her ass tightened.
“Fuck, I can’t hold it anymore,” he groaned.
“Don’t!” she told him. “Let go! Come for me!”
She felt his hips raise up off the bed as he ejaculated, finally coming. Dios, his stamina was amazing! As he let himself fall back onto the bed, Yovanna felt her own body start to tremble once more. This orgasm wasn’t as strong as her first, but it was no less satisfying. Breathing hard, she let herself fall forward and a little to the side, letting him slide out of her. He winced, then sat up to take care of the condom, tossing it in the waste basket next to the dresser. Then he fell back onto the bed, looking at her, a soft smile on his face.
She scooted close to him, tentatively putting her head on his shoulder, not sure how he felt about post-coital cuddling, but his arm wrapped around her immediately and he began to kiss her hair. They lay like this for a long time, letting their breathing and their hearts come back to normal. Yovanna became sleepy, but her brain soon started working overtime, and she was wide awake once more.
“Where are you staying?” she asked him.
“A little bed and breakfast on the other side of town,” he told her.
“You’re welcome to stay here,” she said softly.
“For how long?”
She lifted her head to look at him. “For however long you want.”
“With you?”
She shrugged. “Well, for a while. I’m planning on buying a house of my own, soon, but Emi—I mean Ezra, will probably stay here. So,” she gave him a teasing smile. “You can be roommates with him, or you can come live with me.”
He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d love if I stayed with him,” he said sarcastically.
“Then stay with me,” she told him, her voice soft but firm. “As long as you want.”
He was silent for a moment. “I know where the money is.”
She frowned at him.
He licked his lips. “Ironhead gave me the coordinates where we dumped it. In the mountains.” He was looking at her expectantly.
“How dangerous would it be to go back for it?” she asked carefully.
“Very,” he told her. “Not just because there are still people looking for it, but because the location it’s in is… treacherous.”
She bolstered herself for her next question. “And how much do you want it?”
He took a deep breath and pulled away from her. He slid off the bed and looked around until he found where his trousers had ended up, then he went over to them and pulled his wallet out from the back pocket. He opened it and took out a slip of paper. He dropped the pants and walked back over to where she was still lying on the bed, leaning on her elbow, her head propped on her hand as she watched him. He showed her the paper and she could see the coordinates on it. Then he reached for the long-stemmed lighter that sat on the dresser next to one of her scented candles. He lit it, then touched it to the paper, setting it on fire. He held onto it while most of it burned, then placed it on the candle, the remaining flame lighting the candle as it burned the last of the paper. He looked at her.
She gave him a half smile. “That’s a beautiful gesture,” she told him. “But do you really expect me to believe you don’t already have those numbers saved in your phone? Or even memorized in your head?”
He laughed. “Oh, come on! Let me have this dramatic moment!”
She laughed along with him, but soon he became serious once more.
“Give me a reason to not go back for that money,” he told her, the darkness from earlier appearing in his eyes once more.
She looked at him for a long moment. Then, in a trembling voice, she said, “I love you.”
His expression softened and his mouth opened as if he was stunned. He blinked rapidly, and Yovanna felt tears forming in her own eyes in response to his obvious emotion. He cleared his throat and bit his lower lip, but didn’t seem to know what to say. So, she sat up and continued.
“Stay here with me,” she told him. “Start a new life with me, away from pain and fear and anxiety.” She paused. “You’ve done more than enough, dealing with demons both real and in your mind. Let your body and your soul rest the way you deserve.” As his expression turned hopeful, she added, “Let me love you while we take care of each other.”
Slowly, he moved to lie next to her on the bed once more. “Forever?” he asked, his expression still full of such hope.
“Forever,” she told him.
“I love you, Yov—Katia,” he smiled softly as he corrected himself.
“And I love you, Santiago.”
“Yes, I’ll stay.”
Forever.
THE END
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aus-wnt · 6 months ago
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CommBank Matildas v China PR Date: Monday, 3 June 2024 Kick-off: 7:40pm AEST Venue: Accor Stadium, Sydney, New South Wales Broadcast: 10, 10 Bold (PER), 10 Play and Paramount+ International Fans: Spo TV: South East Asia – Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Philippines, Macau, Vietnam Astro: Malaysia Digicel: Pacific Islands - American Samoa, Cook Islands, Fiji, Kiribati (East), Nauru, New Caledonia, Niue, Papua New Guinea, Samoa, Solomon Islands, Tonga and Vanuatu ESPN: USA If you reside in a country that does not have a designated rights holder, you will be able to watch the match live and free on the Football Australia's YouTube Channel.
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100gayicons · 8 months ago
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William Lygon, 7th Earl Beauchamp
William Lygon’s story is fascinating example of the homophobia and treatment gay people have had endure.
Lygon was the 7th Earl Beauchamp and a British politician who held various important posts, including Governor of New South Wales (1899 and 1901), and leader of the Liberal Party in the House of Lords (1924 and 1931).
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He married Lady Lettice Grosvenor in 1876 and had 7 children (3 sons and 4 daughters). He was also a homosexual (or more probably bisexual) which was a crime under Britain’s Gross Indecency act. This was the same law that doomed Oscar Wilde and Alan Turing.
While attending Oxford, Lygon met Evelyn Waugh. He would become Waugh’s inspiration for the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte in Waugh’s novel ‘Brideshead Revisited’
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In the 1920s Lygon would throw “racy” parties at Walmer, a castle he had been given. Lady Christabel Aberconway wrote in her diary of open party she attended:
“We arrived and were shown into a garden… There was the actor Ernest Thesiger, a friend of mine, nude to the waist and covered with pearls.”
Thesinger is best known for his campy performance as Dr Pretorius in “The Bride of Frankenstein” (1935).
Apparently Lygon’s sexual activity was an open secret within Britain’s upper crust. He had sexual affairs with servants, common men and other socialites (often at Madresfield Court, the Lygon family home; and at Walmer Castle when he resided).
Lygon toured Australia in 1930 with a young valet, who lived with him. The Australian Star newspaper reported:
“The most striking feature of the vice-regal ménage is the youthfulness of its members … Rosy cheeked footmen. (Each wearing) many lanyards… festoons from their broad shoulders. Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”
This came to the attention of Hugh Grosvenor (Duke of Westminster). He was Lygon’s brother-in-law and political rival. He hired detectives to get evidence about Lygon’s trysts.
Grosvenor was a Tory, an opposing party, and he wanted to ruin both Lygon and the Liberals. Grosvenor provided his evidence to King George V that Lygon was a homosexual. The King reportedly said,
“I thought men like that shot themselves.”
In 1931, Lygon was given an ultimatum - he must divorce his wife, resign from all offices and leave the country. Otherwise he would face public humiliation, arrest and potentially time in prison. Lygon left England immediately, first heading to Germany where he contemplated suicide. But he was talked out of it by his eldest son.
Grosvenor also showed the evidence to Lettice, Lygon wife, and Grosvenor sister. When told her husband was a bugger, Lettice misunderstood and thought he was being accused of being a bugler.
The divorce petition described Lygon as:
“A man of perverted sexual practices, [who] has committed acts of gross indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of sodomy … throughout the married life …”
Ironically Lygon’s children sided with the father and visited him often when he was out of the country. They shunned they’d mother.
Afterwards Lygon traveled, making his way to Paris, Venice, Sydney and San Francisco. But he returned to England after King George V died in 1936. His successor King George IV lifted the arrest warrant.
Lygon returned to Madresfield, his family estate in 1937. Unfortunately he was diagnosed with cancer and died in 1938.
Before his death, Grosvenor wrote Lygon saying,
"Dear Bugger-in-law, you got what you deserved. Yours, Westminster."
(Grosvenor, by the way, was a Nazi sympathizer and hated Jews, he was known for His anti-Semitic rants.)
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jewellery-box · 1 year ago
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HANÁCKÝ KROJ TRADITIONAL FOLK DRESS FROM CZECHOSLOVAKIA
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Powerhouse Collection
Outfit, hanacky kroj (traditional folk dress), womens, cotton / embroidery / lace / silk, embroidered in part and worn by Olga Kupkova (nee Skacelova), designed and made in the Hana region of Moravia, former Czechoslovakia (Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia), 1940
This women's hanacky kroj dating from 1940 is a well provenanced example of traditional dress from the Hana region of Moravia in Czechoslavakia. Worn and partly made by Olga Kupkova the dress includes twelve components, intricately constructed and embroidered by specialist seamstresses and needleworkers, reflecting the time, expense and variety of skills that go into creating hanacky kroj. The style and design reflect the importance placed on communicating and celebrating regional identity through dress. In addition its elaborate composition and embellishment are meant to remind the viewer that it originates from Hana, one of the most prosperous areas of Moravia, which was renowned for producing the richest and most complicated designs. The related Hanacky Kroj book explains the social significance of the hanacky kroj, the very specific conventions for manufacture and wear. This is reinforced through the inclusion of patterns for components of the outfit and embroidery, step by step instructions on how to make it and information on the fabric, threads, starches and the costs involved as well as the names and addresses of specialist makers including shoe makers, embroiderers, lace makers and seamstresses who can assist with making components of the outfit. The social and cultural importance of kroj is explained in the introduction by Dr Jan Kuhndel 'Kroj is an expensive, precious and sacred symbol of national and tribal tradition. It is a child of the Baroque era and its style, in which Czech soul found its festive days, cultural base and unqiue folk art. Every kroj is a mirror and a expression of its era, its region, and its people.' Furthermore, as records of Czechoslovakian immigration in New South Wales, the garments form part of an important historical narrative concerning the experience of refugee escape and settlement in Australia. The significance of the costume collection is further increased by its well provenanced history associated with the Skacelova/Kupkova/Slezacek family and the accompanying photographs of Olga Kupkova wearing the hanacky kroj and Olga Slezacek wearing the childs traditional dress. Glynis Jones, Curator and Sarah Crowe, intern, May 2011. References Cizkova, M. and V, Prostejove. 1940. Hanacky Kroj, Czechoslovakia. Hargreaves, B. n.d. Migrants of the Nepean Valley. NSW. Snowden, J. 1979. The Folk Dress of Europe. Mills and Boon: London, Sydney, Toronto.
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theroyalweekly · 2 years ago
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Heartening but heartbreaking to speak with some of those affected by the serious flooding in Australia. 

As ever, their sense of community and selflessness is humbling, but it is terrible that such devastation seems to be occurring more often.

▶️ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zsIGc_q_RE -- The Prince and Princess of Wales
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landosfenestraz · 1 year ago
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i’m so nervous for this game bro
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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 2 years ago
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Characters
                                                         70/119?
                              2ps are known to lust for blood and power.
Below lies are those that have allowed themselves to be made know, though not without a PRICE.
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A:
           America
           Ancient Egypt 
           Ancient Greece
           Ancient Persia
           Australia
           Austria 
 B:
           Belarus
           Belgium 
           Bulgaria 
C:
           Cameroon 
           Canada 
           China
           Cuba 
           Cyprus
           Czech Republic
 D:
           Denmark
 E:
           Egypt
          England
           Estonia 
F:        
           Finland
           France
 G:
           Germany
           Germania 
           Greece
 H:
           Holy Roman Empire 
           Hong Kong 
           Hungary
 I:
           Iceland 
           India
           Ireland
           Italy
 J:
           Japan 
K:
           S. Korea
 L:
           Ladonia 
           Latvia
           Liechtenstein 
           Lithuania
           Luxemburg 
 M:
           Macau
           Moldova
           Molossia 
           Monaco
 N:
           Netherland     
           New Zealand 
           Niko Niko Republic 
           Norway
 O:
           None at this time
 P:
           Philippines
           Poland 
           Portugal 
           Principality of Wy 
           Prussia
 Q:
           None at this time
 R:
           Republic of Kuglemugle
           Romania
           Romano 
           Rome
           Russia
 S:
           Scotland
           Sealand
           Seborga
           Seychelles
           Slovakia
           Spain
           Sweden 
           Switzerland
 T:
           Taiwan
           Thailand
           Turkey
           Turkish Republic of Cyprus 
 U:
           Ukraine
 V:
           Vietnam
 W:
           Wales
 X:
           None at this time
 Y:
           None at this time
 Z:
           None at this time
                                            Return to Masterlist
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journals-and-journeys · 1 year ago
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Hello :) 📚☕🍁
Introduction
My name is V (short for my real name), and I'm 26 years old. My pronouns are she/her.
I've had this blog for about five years, but recently returned from a quite long tumblr hiatus. I graduated with a Master's degree in Visual Communication in England and did an internship in Australia while I was gone!
I thought I'd reintroduce myself to y'all since it's been so long since I'd been an active studyblr on here! <3
Who/what I am:
a graphic design graduate (BA & MA)
living on the countryside not far from a city in Northern Germany (I want to move back to England though)
former student in the UK 🇬🇧
former graphics intern in Wales and Australia
fluent in German and English
I also speak basic French and I'm a beginner in Spanish (planning on learning more languages)
a shy introvert (I feel more confident talking online though!)
bigender (about 60 - 70% female, the rest feels male deep down). I don't make a big deal out of it though. She/her is what I go by 100% of the time, but I don't mind he/him either!
What I love:
music (metal & rock) + concerts
travelling - I especially loved travelling through Australia! 🌏
goth-y and witchy stuff 🦉
collecting vinyl, CDs and DVDs
books - I buy more books than I read though haha
art, design and museums
languages - however I wish I didn't lack motivation to study most of the time!
food & going to restaurants
coffee, tea & cosy cafes
nature, the sea and space
animals - especially dogs and birds!
diamond painting (I need a few more hobbies like that!)
stationery & pretty journals
decorating my home
Harry Potter (proud Ravenclaw!)
summer & autumn
the UK
ancient Egypt
philosophy, psychology & paleontology
old typewriters
more stuff that I can't think of atm
What I want to achieve:
become an art director at some point in my design career
learn more about these topics: marketing, art history, linguistics, philosophy, psychology, astronomy, ancient Egypt, etc. (I love learning!)
read more books, esp. British classics 📚
draw & paint more
overcome depression
be less anxious
post more original content on here
spend less time on my phone - I'm not a social media person and only use WhatsApp and Tumblr
not be a perfectionist all the time
I might add a few more points later.
Thank you for reading! I look forward to getting to know more of you lovely people and reuniting with old friends! 💕🌻
P. S.: I follow (back) from my main blog @hardwired-to-self-destruct.
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stele3 · 8 months ago
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allylovesyaxx · 1 year ago
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love me some gussy.
@bigballsacksammy
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darlinggeorgiedear · 1 year ago
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Was George V a jealous husband?
No he wasn't! When George and Mary went on their first tour of the Empire, Mary was a hit, especially in Australia and New Zealand. George wrote to his mother about the success of the tour, describing how everyone fell in love with his wife and thought of her as pretty and charming, which made him proud. He also wrote to Mary saying that she was responsible for the tour's success and how thankful he was for her.
I think us royal fans are a little twisted in our thinking about what happens when a royal shines too much (ex. Diana and Meghan), and believe it always results in jealousy. The usual explanation is that the palace or Royal Family turns on whoever gets too much attention.
I think the real problem is the Palace or Royal Family feel that royals, like Diana or Meghan, were working against the royal family for their own popularity, instead of trying to represent the Queen. When the Duke of Windsor was Prince of Wales he was dragged all over the Empire to spread his Royal glamour with full support of the Palace.
I acknowledge that there are holes in my way of thinking because the Duke of Windsor, as Prince of Wales, did experience some sort of jealousy from family members at times (royal family are humans and you can't always help feeling insecure at times). But my point is that the Palace definitely supported him as Prince of Wales, since they felt like he was benefiting the Crown, unlike Diana and Meghan. (Also, I am not trying to make the argument that Diana and Meghan were out for themselves, I'm just saying that the Palace (and possibly Royal Family) seemed to see them that way).
I think even when Mary out did George (in stature, knowledge, etc), he didn't mind because he knew she was only trying to help him. Of course, this doesn't mean George let Mary walk all over him. There are a few reports about how, especially when he first became King, he tried to seem very formal with Mary in front of people, to ward off gossip that the consort is in control. He was valid in his response, since when you think about his son George Vi, many like to credit his success with his wife, in result of her seemly dominance over him.
I hope this is what you meant by asking if he was jealous! If you meant it more like if he was jealous of other men, I would say no to that too! George and Mary definitely had a very secure marriage. This is easier to see from her side because she befriended and didn't mind Julie Stoner still being good friends with George.
There is also a photograph from when they did that photoshoot in their London home, York House, where they are both posed while he is reading the paper. If you look closer, in between them, there is a photo of Missy of Edinburgh. There is also a photo of her in Mary's boudoir or sitting room on the mantle at York Cottage. These pictures were probably gifts, but similar to her acceptance of Julia Stoner, shows how both past romantic interest of George's, were past news. I'd imagine George would have looked at Mary's past romantic interest similarly.
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