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acowardinmordor · 4 months

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Contractual Obligation

The plan went perfectly, is the thing. TMZ got the scoop, Tiktok had hundreds of reaction videos in the first few hours. They were trending on Twitter. Which was good. Steve would get his pay day, Eddie would get past the rumors and back to the good press, back to the path towards platinum records. According to the plan, Eddie would even have new ideas and inspiration for his next album.

It was only five months. Long enough for the gossips to pick it up, long enough to be a big deal, not long enough that anyone would expect Eddie to be too broken up about it.

Steve torched all his social media accounts a few hours after TMZ posted the story. He had to. The handful of messages and notifications he saw while deleting it all made his stomach flip. Once it calmed down a bit, he might make anonymous accounts again, if only so he could follow the kids and see the weird pictures of Robin's travels. Not with his own face though. Part of the agreement. Steve Harrington wasn't going to exist online as himself for a minimum of three years. That would keep anyone noticing that he got paid. It would also keep Steve from being torn apart by Eddie's fans.

It wasn't like he had to worry about money for a while. That was why he signed the contract with the PR firm. They needed to erase the memory of his slut era - capped off with photos of Eddie in a decadent orgy - show that Eddie Munson was capable of a committed relationship, and then get him single again. His sales were better when he was single, and being seen on celebrity dates was great for PR. They needed someone to play a part to make the change.

Steve's dad hadn't cut him off or thrown him out for being queer, or for how he got GNC when the mood struck. No, Richard Harrington was a proud liberal supporter, and didn't give a damn about any of that. But Steve flunked out of his degree in business at Richard's alma mater, and that was unforgivable.

So he was working days at an amazon warehouse, and overnight at a 24 hour diner in Chicago, because he needed money to keep his crappy studio. The PR team found him at the diner. Steve accepted the job and the contract without knowing who the hell Eddie Munson was. It was that much money. Steve really should have thought through the final phase of the contract before he signed. But it was almost a quarter million dollars for just under five months of work. "Work". Five months of dating a guy who permanently altered Steve's brain chemistry with his first smile.

Steve knew this was his fault. How he felt was his own fault. He wanted the money so he took the job, and he agreed to the terms. He went in with open eyes. Eddie didn't know Steve wasn't a genuine relationship. A real moment of serendipity that put them in the same place. Didn't know there was an end date inked and signed before they ever met. Steve agreed to this stupid fucking job because his parents cut him off and he wasn't used to having to budget for food and use coupons and hunt for deals to get phone service.

He may have flunked out in his junior year, but he was a business major. Steve read the contract and knew there was no getting around the financial penalty if he broke the terms. Seven fold repayment. How biblical of them.

He wasn't stupid. Eddie had the cash to cover the contract breach. And the inevitable court case over it. But Steve was stupid, and when he signed, he'd thought it wouldn't matter to either of them. Then Steve realized it mattered to him, but thought Eddie would be fine. He was a rockstar. Surrounded by friends. Endlessly laughing and happy. Eddie would get over Steve quick. It was just a couple months with some broke college drop out.

Then he saw Eddie's face three days ago when the rockstar found his boyfriend in bed with two models.

So yeah, Eddie had the cash, and maybe if Steve had told him from the start, he would have spent it, but now? Eddie didn't have a poker face. He walked into the scene set up by the PR team - Steve in bed with two peppy blonde models after standing Eddie up on a date - and Steve knew there was no way Eddie would cover anything. The truth could have helped early. Now that it was done? Telling Eddie the truth would only hurt him more.

All the stories were on Eddie's side. The firm made sure of that. Photos were already being 'found' by the gossip sites. Steve had been 'cheating' for weeks. Really had fucked both women that night to satisfy contractual obligation and to make sure Steve knew there was no fixing it. Steve had his fifteen minutes of fame, and the thing he'd be known for forever, was the guy who cheated on Eddie Munson.

His phone pinged with a message from one of the only two numbers saved to it. The way his chest soared and sank in the moment before his brain caught up was awful. Hope and fear, neither of which made sense.

Steve had deleted all of his socials. The PR firm had taken his old phone and disconnected the number. Now he had a brand new samsung, with one contact for the PR agent, and one for Robin. One was a threat, the other was a lifeline.

Robin's message was a calendar with her locations for the next month, and a link to AirFrance. It was a good idea. She was absolutely furious with him, and had been since he told her about the contract a month ago. She was still his best friend. Eddie was famous, but mostly an American celebrity. Steve could be a no one easier in Europe.

His phone, the one he handed over, had hundreds of contacts and thousands of messages and conversations across apps. Hundreds of photos of him and Eddie. Messages and voicemails and stupid jokes and memes.

This one had the default background, the default apps, and a single conversation in the messages. Robin was going to scream at him when she saw him, but she'd give him a hug first.

That was a better choice than sitting in the dark in his new apartment, which was too big, and too nice for crappy stuff they'd moved from his studio. He tapped the link she sent, and started looking for the first available flight.

#steve harrington angst #steddie angst #my writing #as ever guys #I did not write this with any intent #just responding to a fic that ended happily #and my brain going 'ok but what if'#this idea is agony to me #that Steve completed the contract like he was supposed to #it is technically a success #this was the expected outcome #and it hurts like hell

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void-imp · 4 months

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Here's my Jeremy ramble, buckle up it's gonna be a long one

I was thinking about jeremy and how I feel like I haven't given him enough flaws, and I think I've figured out what to do. In the traditional, academical sense, Jeremy is not "smart". He's not dumb, far from it, but he was never the stereotypical booksmart kid who excelled in school. Math and physics are his biggest struggles, to the point he'd skip class as a teen. It was something so unlike him, someone who had been praised for being a good, dutiful kid who always did he right thing his whole life, but the fear of feeling stupid was greater than the fear of dissapointing his mom. Both, however, were ever-present. Languages were less of a hurdle, and those subjects that allowed or encouraged conversation, like social studies. Apart from having to memorize a bunch of dates, he enjoyed history too. Where he excels is when he gets to work with his hands. He's a great cook, an incredible artist, athletic, has a green thumb. These are his strengths but he's always felt like it pales in comparison to his mother's achievements. His mother, who came to the states and fought to make a life for herself here, who's incredibly clever, who went to college and became a doctor. Who raised him on her own while being a med student. He wants to live up to the expectations she has for him, to make her proud, and continously finds himself falling short. Some of this is partially resolved before Jeremy as we know him shows up in the story. On his last year of High School, he and his mother got in a fight. He'd finally gathered the courage to tell her his dreams of becoming a tattoo artist and she did not like the idea. Wanted him to go to college. Jeremy loves his mom more than anything, and defying her expectations was the scariest thing he's ever had to do. And in the same way, Alma loves her son most of everything in this world, and wanted what she thought was best for him but also wanted him to be happy. In Alma's mind Jeremy was still her baby, and the realization that he was almost fully grown up was like having a bucket of cold water emptied over her head. The little kid proudly showing off how he learned to tie his shoes was almost an adult, and was already becoming his own person. So she brokered a deal: if he tended to his studies, passed his finals and got an A in math, she would fully support him in becoming a tattoo artist. He studied hard, got help from his friends, and felt confident. When the day came, the culmination of all his hard work, the moment his hopes for the future rested on… he got a B. To say he was dissapointed would be an understatement. He was crushed. The feeling of being an utter failure was greater now than at any other point in his life. Pure dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of having to tell his mom, having to see the disappointment in her eyes. When he came home, his mom wasn't disappointed at all. She wrapped him in a hug and told him how proud she was of him, and he cried for what felt like hours. She made them a cup of tea, put on a movie, and they had a talk. She had seen his hard work and was still willing to support him, even if she would rather see him continue his education. He admitted he didn't feel fully ready, that he kinda wanted to go to community college first, and that's what he ended up doing. Now that he lives on the other side of the country, working as an apprentice at a tattoo studio, he's happy that he decided to wait those two years. He still sucks at math but he's more mature now, more grounded, and feel better suited to take on the challenges that await him now he's on his own.

#oc:jeremy #oc rambles #olly:rambles #i tried to break it up a bit bc if i was met with this wall of text my brain would just quit immediately #if you read this even a little bit of it ily thank you so much

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asimperingswannsong · 1 year

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Larissa’s Reluctant Romance

Part 4 of 4?

Larissa/Wednesday

Larissa sat at her desk drumming her fingers. She was restless and unfocused. She’d never had trouble focusing on work before. She sighed in frustration and closed her emails out; sat and stared at nothing for a minute; then sighed again; opened the student database and pulled up Wednesday’s profile. There was the student ID picture of a disgruntled young lady whose parents had made a sizable donation to pawn her off to their old alma mater mid term after a string of failed enrollments elsewhere. She noticed her birthday was coming up soon. Her eighteenth birthday to be precise. “And why is that important Larissa? Why fixate on that number?” She sighed once more and closed the page and her laptop. She gave up completely on work and made her way into her quarters. She was still worrying herself over Wednesday’s response to seeing her on a date and Wednesday was still avoiding her. She grabbed a bottle of red from the side board in her dining room and began pouring a glass at the dining table. She looked up to see Wednesday headed toward the forest. “It’s 10 pm. What is she doing?” She sat the glass down and made her way outside.

She followed after where she’d seen her heading. It wasn’t long before she realized the ridiculousness of her decision. Fall had arrived and it was officially cold at night. The lightweight suit jacket she’d paired with a shift dress wasn’t doing much to shield her from the cold and the four inch heels were a poor choice of hiking foot wear. She caught her toe on a tree root and stumbled reaching out and grabbing the nearby tree to keep from face planting. Suddenly Wednesday was there. She grabbed Larissa’s free hand and her waist to steady her. “Are you alright?” she asked with concern evident in her voice . “Wednesday, why are you out in the forest this late at night?” Wednesday released her hand and looked away. “Are my off campus privileges revoked again then?” Larissa sighed. She’d immediately opened on a harsh note again. That had not been her intention. She reached out and grabbed Wednesday’s hand. “Come with me.” Wednesday tried to pull away. “Please, I’m freezing.” Wednesday glanced back at her the concern back on her face. “Okay,” she relented.

Larissa led her through the forest over to a low dome shaped brick structure covered almost entirely by dirt and moss. She followed her down a set of recessed stairs to an old metal door. Larissa took out her master key and used it to unlock and open the door. It made a hideous sound from disuse that caused her to visibly cringe. She turned the light from her cellphone on and led Wednesday inside.

She scanned the room with the light. It was furnished like a typical studio apartment - couch and bed draped in cloth, coffee table, dresser, two sets of wall mounted cuffs and chains, padlocked door in the floor leading further underground, small kitchenette, etc. Larissa looked as though she were considering building a fire but thought better of it; instead propping her phone on the mantle piece with the light still lit. “What is this place?” “An apartment Nathaniel Faulkner used sometimes.” “And why does it sort of also resemble a dungeon?” “Well it’s not, not, a dungeon. You do know there are wolves and bear in the forest right?” Wednesday huffed. “Eugene insisted to me that there were no four toed salamanders here, but I know that to be untrue because I’d seen one down by the creek earlier and I was on my way to provide photographic evidence in support of my claim.”

“Did that need to happen in the pitch dark, after curfew, in the freezing cold?” There it was again; the tone of a mother scolding a toddler. Why did she keep doing that? Wednesday’s nearly eighteen years old. She huffed at herself this time as she noticed Wednesday had opted for studying her feet intently. Larissa reached out and cupped the back of Wednesday’s head, pulling her into a hug.

Wednesday stood entirely slack for a moment, and Larissa began to question her actions, but suddenly Wednesday returned the hug. She pressed her full body against Larissa and hugged tightly with her arms in the small of her back. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been speaking to you lately, Wednesday.” “Are you planning to see him again?” “No.” Wednesday began walking them backward until Larissa’s back pressed against the wall. They stilled and Wednesday allowed Larissa’s presence to fully envelop her. She had her head buried in Larissa’s chest enjoying the smell of her perfume, the sound of her breathing, and the warmth of her body. She lowered one arm from the small of her back and wrapped it around the back of her thigh, gently moving her leg aside. She pressed herself in between Larissa’s legs, pressing her core against Wednesday’s belly due to the height difference. She could feel the pulse of Larissa’s desire against her belly. Larissa tried to maneuver out of the contact, but Wednesday tightened the arm she had wrapped around the back of her leg and Larissa stilled. Wednesday closed her eyes and committed the sensation to memory. She fought against the urge to drop down and place a kiss between her legs where she felt the pulse.

They stood in silence for a long while. Larissa allowed herself to enjoy the contact, realizing how touch starved she’d been, while also fighting back thoughts of how inappropriate this exchange was. Finally she spoke, “Wednesday, can you please promise me you won’t go salamander hunting in the dark when you can’t even see the bear coming at you so I won’t have to sit and worry about you being mauled to death?”

Wednesday let out a tiny huff, but gave in. “I will go back inside so you don’t have to imagine my gruesome demise.” But she didn’t move. They stayed as they’d been for awhile longer before finally Larissa leaned her head down, placed a kiss on top of Wednesday’s head, and said, “This is lovely sweetheart, but I’m freezing.” Wednesday immediately pulled away; there’s that look of concern again. Larissa reached out and cupped her face with her hand. “Goodnight, darling.” “Goodnight.”

The periodic dinners delivered to Larissa’s quarters started again. Apparently, Wednesday had forgiven her for the kiss she’d witnessed. Larissa found she was once again able to focus on her work.

One evening, Wednesday stopped outside the entry to Larissa’s apartment and as she reached into her pocket to remove her lock picking tools, she felt the door handle turn in her grip. That was odd. She’d never accidentally left the door unlocked before. She shrugged, opened it, entered, and locked it once inside. She made her way to the dining room to plate the food she’d brought but when she stepped inside she saw a gift, wrapped in black polka dot paper with a large black bow attached. “Happy birthday, darling.” She turned to see Larissa standing in her bedroom doorway with a glass of red in her hand. She’d removed her jacket and Wednesday was enjoying the view of her bare arms and shoulders.

She realized she was staring. “Thank you.” Larissa approached her. “Well, are you going to open it?” Wednesday was still busy taking in the view, appreciating all of the curves that were no longer hidden under her jacket. When she arrived at Larissa’s feet she noticed that her heels were making the tops of her feet red, just at the toe line. It looked painful. “Can I give you a foot massage?” Larissa was caught off guard by the non apropos direction they’d taken. “What?” she asked with a slight laugh. “The heels are beautiful but they look painful. Can I rub you feet?” “…for my birthday,” she added as an afterthought.

Larissa laughed again. “You want to give me a foot massage for your birthday?” Wednesday nodded and looked up at her with…puppy dog eyes? “Is she capable of puppy dog eyes?” It certainly looked like she was trying. “Well, alright, I guess. I do like a good foot massage,” she said while stepping out of her shoes. Wednesday followed her into her living room, where Larissa sat and then reclined on the sofa. Wednesday sat at the end, taking Larissa’s bare feet into her lap. She worked the pad of her thumb into the pad of Larissa’s foot, pressing gently and then drawing a circle. As she repeated the process Larissa absentmindedly placed her glass on the table next to the couch and leaned her head back onto the pillow behind her. Wednesday continued her efforts and removed a bottle of perfume oil from her pocket. She’d bought it on a family tour of the tombs in Egypt. It was meant to be a knock off of J’adore; floral notes of jasmine, orchid, and rose. She placed small dabs on her thumb and worked it into Larissa’s skin.

Larissa’s lips parted slightly as she relaxed further and Wednesday enjoyed the view of her chest rising and falling rhythmically. She shifted slightly and it caused her skirt to raise a little revealing part of her thigh. Wednesday realized she was ogling her like an object. She forced her eyes back down. When she finished Larissa’s feet, she moved up to her calf muscles. Pressing her fingertips in gently and working them in circular motions. She could feel the tension in the muscles giving way under her ministrations. Larissa stretched her legs out and then wiggled her toes before sighing contentedly. Wednesday sat with her feet still in her lap and resisted the urge to kiss the tops of her feet. Instead she admired the nail polish that matched the manicure which matched the lips. The woman was exquisite.

When she finally looked up again she saw Larissa staring sleepily at her. “Can I do your neck and shoulders?” Wednesday asked hopefully. Larissa arched an eyebrow at her, thought about it a moment, and sat up, turning around. Wednesday started at the base of her skull, working the skin and muscle between the pad of her thumb and the side of her index finger, gently massaging and working down her neck to her shoulders slowly, before working her way back up. She repeated the process a few times before working out to her shoulders, pressing her fingers gently into the muscles and working out in circles. She relished the feel of Larissa’s skin and the feeling of the tension leaving her body. As Wednesday started back at the base of Larissa’s skull to repeat the whole process again. Larissa let out another contented sigh. Wednesday used more of the perfume oil this time and as she started to work her way out to the shoulders she asked Larissa if she could unzip the top of her dress to move it aside. “Mm, okay.”

Wednesday reached up and unzipped the back of her dress, pushing she straps to the side of her shoulders. Larissa placed a hand at the front of her dress to keep it in place as she felt Wednesday move her bra straps aside as well. Wednesday worked two small dabs of oil into her hands and started massaging them into Larissa’s shoulders. After a few minutes Larissa’s head fell back and Wednesday reached up and began removing the pins holding her hair in place. She slowly removed them all and then worked her fingers in and started gently raking her nails against her skin drawing soothing circles. She worked her way all around the back of Larissa’s head before moving to temples and continuing the circles, this time with the pads of her fingers instead of her nails.

When she’d finally finished she thought Larissa had fallen asleep. She was leaning against Wednesday with her head draped back. Wednesday pressed her cheek into her shoulder blade and wrapped an arm around her stomach to steady her. They sat like that for a while. Wednesday would periodically reach up with her free hand and run over her scalp again or draw more circles at her temple. Eventually Larissa said. “You forgot to open your gift, sweetheart.” Wednesday hummed against her shoulder.

Larissa reached down and placed her hand over the arm Wednesday had wrapped around her stomach. Wednesday pulled back, fixed Larissa’s bra, and pulled her hair up. Larissa reached back to hold her hair while Wednesday zipped her dress back up. Larissa let her hair fall and turned to look at Wednesday. She’d started to get up to go retrieve the gift but she stopped to admire the sight of Larissa with her hair down, falling in waves, past her shoulders. She was stunning. Larissa looked at her questioningly and Wednesday went after the gift.

She opened it to find a velvet lined box containing a lock pick set but this one was a far cry from the one she’d been using. “It’s platinum and ivory but I don’t think that ivory is elephant or rhinoceros. The set belonged to Iggy Itt. It was given to me years ago by an alumni. I figured you’d get more use out of it than me.” “Thank you.” Wednesday surprised her with another hug. It continued longer than hugs generally do. This seemed to be becoming a pattern. “I think your meal is cold now.” “Well now that I’m relaxed, I might surprise myself by actually cooking for once.” Silence again; more hug. Finally, Wednesday offered, “I’m eighteen now…” A pause. “Yes, and are you still one of my students?” Silence again; hug continues. “So graduation day then. Got it.” “Got what sweetheart?” Wednesday pulled away finally. “If you’re going to cook, you should probably start now. It’s getting late.” She stood up. “Right. I’ll drop your gift off tomorrow when you’re in class.” “Right. Graduation day then. Goodnight.” Wednesday turned and walked toward the door to leave. “What about graduation dear?” “Wednesday?” “Goodnight, Principal Weems.” “Goodnight, darling…what about graduation?” she asked to an empty room.

#larissa weems #principal weems #wendesday addams #my fic #fluff #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems

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b-afterhours · 4 months

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Avenue of Sins: Neon

A sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debacherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Chapter Eight

February 1993

Bill looked around the small apartment filled with a dozen rose bouquets he had delivered to her home for Valentine's Day a few days prior. He had worked on Valentine's as it was a popular and busy night at the club but he had left earlier than usual to watch Simion’s boxing match. While Alma still held onto him she looked up and by the look on his face, he seemed fatigued from the travel. Being tall he could see above the couch's backrest and saw Echo napping hard and splayed out with her arms above her head.

The juxtaposition between his penthouse and Alma’s apartment always rattled him every time he visited. Together they lived in nice apartments in NYC but never stayed long enough to personalize it. Alma’s apartment wasn’t a terrible place to live by any means, it was perfect for herself and Echo. Though besides the couches and everything in Echo’s nursery, almost everything looked second hand and they most likely were. He had access to one of two of her bank accounts and noticed her monthly statements were average, maybe even less than that sometimes. She probably only used it for groceries and bills. The only big purchase he ever noticed was when she bought her used Jeep. The other bank account she had she most likely used whenever she needed things for Echo to keep him in the dark until she was ready. She never seemed to touch their joint offshore accounts even though she could access them without a hassle or permission.

He just found it odd sometimes but he understood that a seemingly single mother working at a record shop shouldn’t live beyond the means of that metric. Compared to Strathburg living she was doing very well in the facade she had built for herself in Seattle. The life Bill had built in New York was simply unfathomable to those back home though. Besides that, he liked where she lived, the sleepy neighborhood looked good and boring and all her neighbors were old and retired women. The landlady lived just on the other side of the wall in the four-apartment building and while she liked to lease to retirees she took a chance on a young mother and her infant child. He knew she lived in a studio before finding this place and he always wondered what that was like.

“Why didn’t you call? I was going to pick you up?” Alma said to him.

“I know… I just didn’t feel like waiting around anymore after that bullshit delay,” he said, turning to pick up his duffle bag he had dropped by the door.

“You only brought one bag?”

“My luggage is in the trunk of the rental. I’ll get it later,” he took her hand and walked around the couch to admire his sleeping daughter. She looked like she had gotten so much bigger in the weeks he hadn’t seen her. “Is she feeling better?” He asked leaning down to touch a short lock of her golden hair.

Echo had a bad cold the week prior that Alma suspected she had gotten from another child from their library visits. She hardly slept to ensure that her daughter wasn’t stuffed up with snot, which hindered her breathing in her slumber.

“A lot better,” she assured him. “But she’s still a little foggy, she’s been sleeping hard still like she is right now,” Alma remembered telling him she wasn’t well over the phone and he sounded a bit mad about it. Not at Alma but at the germ that even dared to make his child ill. “You’re here though she’ll be back to her normal self,” she smiled.

She let Bill help himself to her shower and bedroom while she stayed in the living room with their daughter to give him some space. He always felt dirty and dehydrated after flying and a scalding shower was one of the first things he wanted when he arrived at his destination.

Bill left the shower holding onto a towel around his waist and went down the hall where Alma would lay her head. He dug through his duffle bag for a pair of boxers and deodorant to put on and then sat down next to it on the bed before pushing it off. He laid back on the queen-sized bed and sighed loudly as his muscles eased after having been cramped in a plane seat. While her bed was smaller compared to his king-sized one, it definitely felt cozier. It was plush with more pillows than just one person would need. The quilt bedding and frilly pillow shams were all lilac. Much more girly and even more inviting compared to the sleek silk bedding situation he had going on. Even the scent in the room was lovely like lavender and vanilla and a hint of rose from the bouquets permeating the living area. Luckily, he could feel his headache melting away as he finally felt he could relax.

As he dressed himself, he noticed her nightstand which was by her usual side of the bed when he visited. On top of it were her glasses, several black hair ties, a banana clip, and a framed photo of them standing before Bianca’s Christmas tree prom posing. He sat down on the bed after pulling on his sweatpants and picked it up to look at it closely. He always liked how they looked together but more so how he looked and felt with her. He found her to be so much more pleasing to look at than he felt about himself sometimes. Gently, he set the photo down and on impulse quickly pulled open her nightstand drawer. Inside, were lotions and night creams, nail files and nail polishes, and forgotten receipts. He picked up a round light blue plastic case the size of a powder compact and opened it, it was Alma’s birth control pills and he saw that day's pill had been taken. He set it back down when he noticed in the very back of the drawer was a short pink device about the width of a finger and grabbed it. He knew exactly what it was and he smirked. On accident he turned the vibrator bullet on, startling himself, and with fumbling hands he hastily turned it off and quickly placed it back where it belonged.

Alma could hear him coming back to the living room after some time to himself. He was wearing a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants. Even Alma noticed that now when he visited Seattle, he dressed down more than he did in New York. He would bring a nice outfit or two in case but he quickly picked up that wearing designer just signaled to the locals that he wasn’t one of them or worse, that he was a yuppie.

Echo was finally awake sitting on Alma’s lap and babbling a mashed-up version of the alphabet with her back facing him, completely unaware of her father's presence. Alma looked up at him and noticed he looked a bit more refreshed as he approached and he quickly put his finger to his lips. With sock-covered feet, he tried his best to walk softly but even with Alma trying to distract Echo she turned her head in his direction. Before she could react he quickly scooped her up in his arms and she laughed when he kept peppering kisses on her cheek. He sat down next to Alma with Echo’s arms slung around his neck.

“You missed me, baby?” He said holding on to her. “I missed you.”

Echo stood on his lap and then pointed towards the phone that sat on a side table on the other side of Alma. “Papa phone?”

“Hmm?”

“Papa phone.” She pointed again.

“Papa is here, E’,” Alma lightly laughed. “She knows when you call and-”

“She’s associating me with the phone,” Bill raised an eyebrow at her as she scratched her head nervously.

Echo would clamor up her lap whenever she was on the phone, thinking it could be her father on the end of the line. Bill called once in the morning and once in the evening typically. Though the past couple of days before his arrival their conversations were fairly short so that they would have something to talk about when together.

“It’s alright,” Bill said, kissing Echo’s hand to get her to stop pointing at the telephone.

Alma was a bit relieved when he said that she didn’t want him to make it a thing when it wasn’t she was just a baby making associations. Bill helped Echo sit on his lap and then pulled Alma closer to himself wrapping an arm around her. He kissed the top of her head.

“I missed you too,” he said into her hair.

The family stayed in for the rest of the day. Bill decompressed further and even managed to fall asleep on the couch while Alma prepared guacamole for their nacho dinner. She was happy he did because it meant that he was comfortable enough there to do so. Echo was playing on the floor next to him before she began to stack toys and roses along his body making him look like some kind of ritualistic offering which amused her mother.

It was after dinner that they all took a short walk to a convenience store that stood next to a laundromat close by and they spent time choosing snacks and drinks. Bill allowed Echo to run up and down the candy aisle and let her choose whatever caught her eye. Though at the register he told Alma it was for himself and even though she knew it was a white lie she found it endearing. For them, they left with some chips and a case of Rainier beer.

When they came back home Alma took the phone off the hook deciding she wasn’t taking any calls for the rest of that weekend should they come. As night came Bill put Echo to bed himself. He rocked her a bit as he paced the nursery to soothe her enough to lay her down while she had her little hand up to rub the stubble under his jaw. In her room, she also had framed photos hung on her walls, some of herself but also ones of him and her together. One was of them in front of the Washington Square Arch and another of them on Christmas in front of the tree in his penthouse. Being able to see them that way made his heart swell as if he could finally see the way he looked as a father in a still photo. That it didn’t look awkward or strange like he sometimes felt it did. Right next to that photo was the one he took of Alma and her at the Ritz in black and white. Even though he knew the fact, suddenly it hit him that they were really parents to an actual child they created together. He noticed Echo’s hand stilled and looked down at her fast asleep in his long arms. Before laying her down he just stood there for a moment to admire her. His little baby.

When he joined Alma again she had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was shuffling some of her accounting homework she had on her small dining table into a neat pile. He stopped next to her, picking up a thick textbook that was on top of a children's coloring activity book, and flicked through it quickly. To him, it all looked painfully boring.

“You want to learn something or do you want a beer?” Alma said, looking up at him.

“A beer,” he said, giving her a dimpled smirk and handing her textbook back. “Is school still going alright?”

“I have the whiskey you like to drink too by the way,” she said, reaching into the fridge. “But yeah, it’s not so bad. The teacher tries to make it somewhat fun with his little corny jokes,” she shrugged, handing him a beer.

Together they sat on the couch and Alma turned the TV on to a music channel for background noise. Alma was explaining how her classes went and spoke about her classmates with him and learned she was one out of three other girls in her class.

“Last week right before Echo got sick I stayed behind cause I had some questions about an assignment. Mr. Miller helped but then he started telling me that most of the shit we’re even doing can basically all be done by computers these days and then he pulled out this Macintosh Powerbook. Have you seen those?” Bill shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “Well, he showed me this program on there that basically does most of the work for him.”

“You should get a computer then?” He said resting his elbow on the backrest as he spoke to her.

Alma looked around her place for a second and looked back at him. “I don’t even know where the hell to put something like that here,” she laughed. “What do you do on yours anyway?”

“Eh, not much. I only bought it because I wanted to and I was bored mostly,” he reached over to check how much beer she had and quickly went to the kitchen for another round plus some just to have a few waiting on them on the coffee table instead. “So you stay after class to talk to Mr. Miller now?” He said popping the beer tab open and handing her the beer.

Alma rolled her eyes. “Yeah because math just turns me on so bad I stay after class to talk to my nerdy 50-something-year-old teacher?”

“Just wondering,” he said playfully, which earned an annoyed look from Alma. “I do have a question though,” he said looking a bit more serious now.

“What,” Alma asked pensively as she put her drink down.

“Is, um,” he said, straightening up which was making Alma nervous. “Is that vibrator in your nightstand better than me?” He laughed.

“What fuck you went through my drawer?” She said, pinching him under his arm. He winced as he pulled his arm away and pulled her onto his lap which made her giggle.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean to?”

His only response was to kiss her on the lips because he had no excuse for his impulsive snooping.

“Why do you always like to tease me about stuff,” she pouted while he trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

“Mm,” he paused his lips but his hands snuck inside her shirt. “I’m sorry. I just get jealous when people get your time and I don’t. Especially that little friend you have in the nightstand.”

“It isn’t better than you but it’s helpful,” she giggled, pecking his lips. “We can even use it together?” She said standing up to kick off her leggings but before she could straddle his waist he leaned forward. With his large hands on her waist, he pushed her oversized flannel up and kissed her belly down to the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down to kiss her pussy mound with adoration.

His other hand ran up her inner thigh and quickly he pulled her panties to the side. A finger ran through her wet slit and he groaned under his breath as he bit his lip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he questioned as he put his middle finger in his mouth to taste her. He leaned back and adjusted himself when he felt himself starting to grow in his boxers.

Alma chuckled under her breath as she straddled his lap finally. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.” She admitted as she kissed him along his stubbly jaw.

“Fuck me too,” he said in earnest. If it was up to him he would have taken her there on the floor when he first walked into her apartment.

As they were feverishly kissing, their tongues collided with each other. Alma could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants and she moaned against his lips. He could feel her cold hands sneak into his hoodie and meet his warm skin. It made him jump a bit but the change of temperature felt tantalizing. They broke away for a moment so that he could help her take his hoodie off but as he tried to meet her lips again he paused. Alma's brows were furrowed with a bewildered look in her eyes as she ran a hand over his much more prominent abs. He had always had them but now they looked closer to chiseled marble.

“What the hell have you been doing?” She asked looking back at him.

“Eh,” he scratched the back of his neck feeling slightly self-conscious. “You know I’ve worked out a few times with Simion.”

“A few times?” She asked skeptically, grabbing his much more developed biceps as these weren’t the results you’d get from only a few casual visits to the boxing gym.

Bill held on to her tightly and swiftly got up with her legs still wrapped around his waist making her yelp. He didn’t want her to get ahead of herself when he finally had her where he wanted her.

“Shh. Remember we can’t be too loud here,” he reminded her walking them to the bedroom as she kissed along his neck.

He kissed her and then he practically tossed her on the bed which made her laugh. She hurried towards the side of the bed where he stood and reached for the waistband of his sweatpants eager to free his erection but he intercepted her and reached for her shirt to pull off instead. He was pleased that she wasn’t wearing a bra, he noticed that all day especially because she purposely had a few top buttons of the oversized flannel open. He pushed her back on the bed and instructed her to scoot backward a bit and she happily obliged. He hooked one hand around her knee and the other ran along her panty-clad pussy. As his finger pressed along her slit he could feel her wetness soak through prompting him to lean down. Replacing his hand, he teasingly ran his tongue along the cotton fabric making her whimper in anticipation. The warmth of his tongue and the taunting pressure of the fabric against her clit made her hips buck for more.

“Take them off for me,” he demanded as he righted himself to quickly do away with his boxers and sweatpants. He even plucked off his socks because Alma once told him he was weird for leaving them on if he was fully naked.

Alma reached down to her waist and took off her cheeky black panties and playfully tossed them at his chest. He smiled as he crawled on top of the bed with her now. Taking her knees he pushed them together and then against her chest causing her hips to rise a bit from the mattress and on perfect display for him. Without a warning he took two long fingers and pushed them inside her, making her gasp. Bill swallowed hard as her slickness coated his curled fingers and he had to keep himself from just burying himself deep inside her instead. He had gone so long without her he ached. The panties she had hidden for him to find and he would wrap around his hard cock and the occasional phone sex just could never compare. He wanted to savor this break from a dry spell but his throbbing cock was wanting to already feel her warmth and tightness around it.

He continued working his fingers as he reintroduced his swirling tongue to her bare clit reaching a rhythm. Alma’s hand clasped around her mouth to stifle the moans that erupted out of her. When his lips wrapped around her clit and she could feel the reverberations of his grunt, her head fell back on the mattress as her eyes rolled and the tension melted from her body as she came. He could feel her squirming from the sensitivity so slowly he stopped his movements while she caught her breath. He leaned back on his knees and spat her arousal in his hand and wrapped it around his erection to coat his cock in her slick. He started to position himself between her legs but she gently stopped him.

“Do you want to use the vibrator?” She asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to be the reason you’re coming.”

Alma could see his eyes darken and looked at her hungrily. She turned around then and positioned herself on her hands and knees. The sight of her plump ass perked up in the air excited him like no other. To him, it indicated that she didn’t want it so sweet.

He crawled off the bed to stand right at the edge of it and then reached forward gripping her hips to pull her back towards him so that their bodies aligned better. Alma looked back at him in anticipation and their eyes met. He had a devious look in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her ass cheek and then brought his hand down hard to smack it. Alma wailed briefly before it turned into a loud moan as she felt the sting of it tickle up her spine. He ran his hand from her lower back up to the middle of her shoulder blades prompting her to lay her chest to the mattress and his hand ran back up caressing the perfect slope of her back. Lining himself at her entrance he pushed in and his eyes fluttered closed as her warmth enveloped him so completely. Moans from deep in their chest escaped their lips.

Thrusting deeply inside her tight cunt his mind was stuck on the feeling and sounds of their bodies pleasuring each other and the moans and pants filling the room. His hands took a possessive grip of her hips tightly pulling her own body into his thrusts with the strength of his new bulging muscles.

“Shhh,” he said as a reminder as she struggled to stifle her moans.

She caught her breath in her throat while she pressed her face into the mattress to muffle her moans but it didn’t help much. As the friction of their bodies continued she could feel the crescendo just around the corner. He was so mercilessly deep inside her that it was making her a blubbering mess. Then the new rhythm he created made her body respond favorably and he knew by how she began to pulse around him. He looked down at her, her face was crushed in the mattress as she bit onto her knuckle to keep from sounding out her pleasure. Quickly he reached for a pillow and tossed it by her head.

“Here. Fucking scream into that.” He said through deep pants.

She reached up for it and once she had her face in the pillow he smacked her ass again and hearing her muffled holler sent him over the edge especially how she continued tightening around him.

“Ah fuck you feel so good… come with me,” his jaw fell, feeling her body intensely respond to his. “Give it to me,” he said, listening to her muffled screams.

He couldn’t hold off any longer as the shockwave of pleasure enraptured him. He snapped his hips with each spurt of cum that was now pooling inside her. He gave her a few languorous thrusts before collapsing on her. He could feel her body shuttering and gently he removed the pillow away from her face. Just as his lips parted to say something he paused and noticed that she was crying. She tried to quickly wipe them away, feeling silly for them.

“Alma?” He said concerned as he slowly pulled out of her causing her to whimper from the disconnect.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her towards him to face him. His hand cupped her chin and she began to giggle under her breath a bit as she sniffled. He didn’t know quite what to make of it.

“Did I do something? What’s wrong?” His heart pounded against his chest with worry.

Alma took a deep shuddering breath and put her hand to his cheek to kiss him passionately. That somewhat eased his worrying heart. While still kissing she got him to follow her full lips into a more comfortable lying position right beside her.

“I’m fine. I don’t know… you make me feel so good. I fucking missed you,” she said cuddling into his side.

“Are you sure,” he said, putting a finger under her chin and tilting it up so that he could search her eyes. They were still heavy with lust and satisfaction.

“Yes,” she assured him. “I feel so much better,” she sighed wistfully. “Don’t you?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I think I need a damn cigarette,” he said laughing.

After lying while caressing their tender bodies and kissing each other Bill got up from the bed to wash up in the bathroom and brought back a damp warm washcloth to help her clean up. When he came back from tossing it in the bathroom hamper he saw Alma up from the bed in a short black silk kimono she didn’t bother tying closed. She was on her tiptoes reaching for the top shelf in her small closet and grabbing a small wooden box.

“Shut the door,” she told him.

While he closed it she walked around her room, her kimono blowing away from her naked body as she opened the windows as wide as they would go which let the cool breeze waft in the scent of rain and mud into the room. Bill pulled his boxers back on and sat against the headboard when she joined him.

“Do you want a cig’ or do you want a joint?” She asked him as she opened the box producing a lighter and pre-rolled joint from it.

“You smokin’ all the time now?” He asked her, grabbing the box to look inside it himself. It was empty now and speckled with bits of bud and ash. He closed it, settling it on the bed.

“Eh not really,” she said, putting the joint between her lips and lighting it. “I’ve just been saving this for a rainy day,” she said, winking at him. “But really no, it makes me fucking lazy when I’m by myself. The last time I smoked here I just fell asleep.” She took a deep drag and then passed it to him.

They only smoked it down halfway just enough for them to feel nice. At one point Bill held the smoke in his lungs to grab Alma’s face with one hand and blew the smoke into her parted lips as she inhaled it. The first time he had ever done that was in high school and it wasn’t the smoke making her dizzy then but how his full rosy lips hovered above hers. Alma put the box away in her closet again and then lit a warm vanilla incense stick to help usher the weed smell out the open windows.

“Did you ever get that package I mailed out last week?” She asked him, crawling back up on the bed and between his legs to cuddle with him.

“No,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “What was it?”

“It was your Valentine's gift,” she groaned. “You’ll see when you get back home then. You’ll like it.” She said looking up at him with a cheeky smile.

“Panties?” He guessed.

“I think you have enough of them don’t you think?” She laughed.

“Well,” he playfully shrugged.

“How was Simion’s Valentine's fight?”

“Yeah… that’s a long story.”

“Bad?”

“Eh, no not exactly.” He said rubbing the silk fabric of her kimono between his fingers.

“I know you told me you took Payday to it. So are they like… together together now?”

Bill nodded his head in response and then straightened up. They both got into a more comfortable position. This time Bill laid his head on Alma’s chest who played with his hair as he began to tell her about his Valentine's Day.

#my bill writings #bill skarsgard #avenue of sins #aos neon

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inmydeepestdreams · 9 months

Text

The friendship between the six of us was special.

When I arrived at university, the hope that I might find a friend was tiny. I’m not very social, I had no interest in clubs and no interest in a sorority. I was certain I’d spend these four years all on my own.

I could lay out how I met each other the six people, but that would take too long. What’s relevant is the link that kept us together: Summer.

Summer was this tall, gorgeous student athlete. She was on a volleyball scholarship and she was a nursing student, that’s how I met her, through our shared major. She asked to borrow my eraser, and I was pulled into her orbit.

That’s what summer does, collects people. She’s beautiful, the most beautiful person I’ve seen. She’s always smiling, her teeth weren’t perfect, but it was the best, most radiant smile I’d ever seen. Her blonde curls were sometimes frizzy, but they were perfect in a natural sort of beauty.

For a while I was worried I was simply in love with her, that my perception was entirely invented by my lonely heart, until I realized the other four of our friends felt the same.

Ainsley described being drawn to her like she was the sun. Brittany said she was taken in by Summer’s wicked sense of humor. Quinn said she fell for Summer’s generosity, as the girl shared meals with her when Quinn was between paychecks. Alma said Summer’s cheerfulness pulled her out of her rut of homesickness.

We were all along for the ride.

We were all single. Sometimes as a group we went out to bars, but we were more than okay with hanging out in Summer’s studio apartment. The bed was directly behind the sofa. Four girls piled onto the couch that comfortable sat three. I sat on the shag rug and Ainsley was on the chair across from me.

We were content to stay in. Two of my friends were making fun of Greek life, glad that none of us were interested in that.

“Yeah, my friend was in a sorority,” summer said, not saying who the mysterious ‘friend’ was. Summer was like that, friends of all ages and all walks of life. “They made her do crazy shit to join.”

“Like what?” Alma prompted, her hand on Summer’s knee. Summer leaning with her back against the armrest, her legs over the three girls.

Summer giggled.

“What?”

Everyone leaned forward, excited for a new story.

“They made her and the other pledges watch lesbian porn.”

Silence, followed by uncomfortable giggling.

As far as I knew, my five friends were straight, and I was a closet case, afraid to ruin what I had with them. They never seemed homophobic, but you can never really know.

“What? Why?”

Summer shrugged, smiling.

“I asked her what happened after, but she just got all red and defensive, wouldn’t say more.”

“Oh my god, do you think they like, had an orgy?”

“Oh my god!”

“No!”

“They couldn’t have!”

“Did they?”

“No way!”

Summer giggled at our foolishness. Everyone was blushing and playing at shocked. I watched Summer from the floor, feeling some level of anticipation I wasn’t expecting.

“Its no big deal,” Summer said, the picture of cool. “I’m straight, but I watch lesbian porn sometimes.”

Quinn laughed, sounding unsure. The other girls looked around, trying to gauge reactions about how to proceed.

“What?”

“How can you be straight and watch lesbian porn?”

“What, you guys have never done that? Really? It’s the only kind of porn where the women experience pleasure.”

I felt squirmy on the floor. From across the room, Ainsley raised an unreadable eyebrow at me. I could not contribute to this conversation, afraid my queerness would shine through.

“But…there’s no men…”

Summer huffed, exasperated.

“Im telling you girls, it’s the way to go. Ugh, fine, I’ll show you.”

I’ll show you.

What.

But the tv was turned on. I stared at the floor. The girls on the couch started giggling. One shrieked as Summer opened some unfamiliar porn website. Of course Summer would watch some indie, fancy porn while the rest of us stayed at pornhub.

“Summer…” Ainsley protested quietly, she looked mildly frightened. I felt a connection to her, the two friends on the floor.

Summer either didn’t hear her or ignored her and the video started.

“I’m Jenny and I’m Brooklynn, and this is our video.”

“Oh my god.”

“Summer, stop, no way!”

No one was seriously asking her to stop it, this was a challenge to them now, watch the icky, weird porn, be like Summer, understand Summer.

I could hear Jenny and Brooklynn kissing. It was loud as the room quieted down. Summer also turned the volume up.

I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t. My. Face was hot, I hadn’t come in over a week, it was a recipe for wet panties.

Rustling from the tv. Don’t watch, don’t watch, don’t watch…

“Afraid, Kamie?” Summer’s voice was like music. She was looking down at me. While the others looked on curiously at her words, Summer was looking right through me.

I was horrified. Was this somehow all about me? A ruse to embarrass me? How could she possibly know.

I turned away from her. Once my eyes fixed on the screen, I couldn’t look anywhere else.

It was slow, I didn’t like it to be slow. Their shirts were off, they were making out, one was on top of the other, pushing their titties together.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that in real life.” Summer said, quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

No one was loudly teasing anymore. No one was objecting to the porn. The girls on the screen sat up, hugging each other as they kissed.

“What?”

“Two girls kissing like that. Like, in an aesthetic way, obviously,” Summer said, because she knew a lot about art, everyone accepted the words as normal.

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Brittany agreed, sounding absent.

“Yeah, hey, Kamie? Ainsley? You’re both on the floor. Why don’t you put on a little show for us?”

“Ha ha, Summer,” Ainsley said, assuming she was joking. My mouth was too dry to protest. I couldn’t…oh god.

“Well, it’s easier if you to do it, because I wouldn’t have to get up and release us sofa girlies.”

Oh, that makes sense.

I thought. But no it doesn’t! Why would I make out with Ainsley. Why would…

Ainsley is gorgeous, all my friends were, it was goddamn annoying. Her hair was dyed black, she was wearing it one long braid she kept over her shoulder. Her eyes were deep green, she had freckles over her nose.

And she crossed the room to me.

Oh. My. God.

“Will you take off your shirts? Like the girls in the video?”

The girls in the video were doing much more than kissing. I hadn’t been shirtless in front of them before. My chest wasn’t perky and small like theirs, I was a D cup, I had stretch marks.

“Do you want to?” Ainsley asked, settling in front of me on her knees. How quickly we’ve come to this, doing Summer’s bidding. I was half a second away from a heart attack, Ainsley kissed me.

“Woo!” The girls cheered, but quickly quieted down as we pulled away and looked bashfully at the floor.

“Ill keep them quiet, keep going, lovelies.”

“Okay,” we agreed, like robots. I sat on my knees like Ainsley was, like they were. This time I kissed her, lips finding hers magnetically.

She tasted like bubblegum, the slid of her tongue was professional and smooth. Through layers of shirts and bras, our chests pressed together.

“Take ‘em off!” One of my friends from the couch ordered. I was horny by then, so horny I wasn’t to push Ainsley to the carpet and forget who was in the room with me.

I took off my shirt, Ainsley did too. I moved forward and expertly undid the clasp of her baby blue bra. It popped open, her boobs were freckly too, like her face.

She undid my bra too, so we were pressed together as they fell between us.

“Holy fuck, that’s hot,” someone said, Alma or Brittany. Ainsley and I started kissing again, hungrily, needy. Our nipples grazed each other, causing me to gasp against her mouth.

Someone took a picture with flash, but I couldn’t bring myself to give a fuck as Ainsleys hand rested on my thigh, fingers close to where I needed attention.

I dug my fingers into her scalp, where her braid disconnected from her skull, ruining it. Somehow, our kissing got deeper, I wanted to crawl inside her, move in there.

“Alright,” Summer said from nearby, so close I jumped. For a moment I forgot about our audience. The women on the tv were still fucking. Loudly.

We broke away. Summer was right there beside us.

“If someone doesn’t kiss me like that, I’ll be jealous.” She stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. I wanted to keep kissing Ainsley, but our obsession with Summer made the offer too good to refuse.

I made it to her lips first. She met my kisses eagerly. She tasted like sugar, she must have licked the rim of her mixed drink. We had all only managed one before…this…

Summer’s hands were on my chest, holding my boobs, weighing them. She squeezed, groping as she saw fit. My clit was throbbing, but I focused on kissing my friend.

Meanwhile, Ainsley was alternating between sucking on my neck and hers, I know because we would each momentarily get distracted, enjoying the pleasure our third friend was giving us.

Summer pulled away first, pushing Ainsley back towards me, a silent order.

The sofa had devolved into chaos. Alma was in Quinn’s lap, her tongue down her throat. Alma was almost completely naked, save for boxers in place of underwear. Brittany was woefully abandoned, looking at everyone with wide eyes.

It had started, officially. This was what Summer always wanted, I knew it in that moment. I was just along for the ride like the rest of them.

I pushed Ainsley to the carpet, slotted our legs together, grinding on her as we kissed. She was more sensitive than I was, moaning outright as our clothes pussies rubbed together. I needed a little more than that, but I enjoyed her pleasure.

I sat up, attempting to control the situation a bit more. I writhed against her. Her mouth fell open, eyes squeezed shut as she moaned. It was so gorgeous, that when the flash of Summer’s camera covered us, I hardly cared. I wanted us to be remembered this way. Ainsley horny, mid-moan under me, and me, making her feel that way.

“Come on, Brittany, do more than soak your panties.” Summer pushed Brittany’s shoulder. I looked at her hungrily as I rocked my hips, dragging another high pitched moan out of Ainsley. “Go see the experienced lesbo.”

If this were any other situation, I’d be mortified that Summer apparently knew my secret, but I was drunk on this, and Brittany was as pretty as the rest of my friends.

I moved slightly, stopping the pressure on Ainsley.

“No, wait, please don’t go,” she practically sobbed. Which. Jesus Christ.

I kissed Brittany, but was instantly annoyed. Summer was just watching. Quinn and Alma were making out on the couch still, lazily, slowly, like the porn she liked. If summer wantsd this, I wanted her involved.

I directed Brittany towards Ainsley.

“She’s so worked up, making her come will be a breeze,” I whispered in Brittany’s ear. Ainsley still looked wide eyed and desperate. I wanted her, but I had a new target.

“Hello.”

I pushed Summer against the back of the couch, near the kissing girls, and hovered over her.

“How long have you planned this? Hmm?”

I trailed my index finger down her face, resting under her chin to lift her head slightly, forcing her eyes on mine.

“How many photos have you taken for your personal collection.”

“I, uh…” she fumbled with her phone, it slipped right out of her hands and down the cracks of the couch.

“And if I touch you, what am I gonna find? See, Summer, you talk a big game, but you’re just as horny and queer as the rest of us. Aren’t you?”

Her eyelids lowered, she was looking strictly at my lips. Long lashes, plump pink lip glossed lips.

“I knew you’d like this,” she breathed, then surprised me by lurching forward.

Things moved beyond kissing quite fast.

They started with Ainsley and Brittany on the floor. Ainsley’s pants were off and Brittany was openly fingering her, in front of everyone, under the bright lights. Ainsley was not quiet about it either.

Ainsley’s performance got quinn and Alma to slither onto the floor. They were all touching her, but I couldn’t focus long enough on that. No, it was Summer for me. Only Summer.

I pushed her length wise down on the couch, her long legs took up most of it. She whimpered as I opened the button of her shorts and slipped my hand inside to find wet panties.

I nipped at her skin, she was blushing pretty pink.

Whenever I glanced to the side, my friends were a writhing mess of tangled limbs, half-removed clothes. They were moving as soon, the pairs had joined, but I wanted to make Summer come before I inserted myself into the pile.

“I could tell you were gay,” she said as I rubbed her clit, she was breathing heavy, actively biting back moans I needed to hear. “You tried to pretend but it was obvious.”

I fucked her on my fingers, momentarily pulling away to remove her shorts and soaking panties completely. Not before showing them off to Summer.

“Yeah? What’s this? You could tell I was gay?” I asked as I pressed a kiss to her torso. She shivered. Someone on the ground was coming, Ainsley probably.

“Yes.”

I kissed her hipbone. Her hips lifted slightly, but she controlled herself.

I was gonna say something like takes one to know one, but that was cheesy.

“I think planning a sex party for you girl group is more gay than I have ever been.”

She growled, frustrated. Through gritted teeth she said “shut up and make me come.”

Whatever. She wanted to come? Maybe I’ll make an effort to ruin any sex she has in the future. She can fuck anyone she wants, but she’ll always compare it to-

“Fuck!” Summer yelped, practically, as I licked at her clit.

My brain could separate her shuddering breaths from those on the floor. I wasn’t paying attention to them, anyway. It didn’t matter what they were doing, I was focused on her and her pretty pussy.

I sucked on her clit, fucking her with two fingers. It really was that simple, and she was gone. She wasn’t lasting, I could tell by the way she clenched around me, tight and wet and desperate.

“Fuck-“ it was a choked-off cry, and she was coming. Her hips lifted off the couch, I followed her, continuing to eat her through it.

When I pulled away, I eyed her. Panting, spent. She looked pretty even there, with mascara smudged, hair sweaty on her forehead.

I looked to the floor, only to find the girls all sitting there in various states of undress, watching with open adoration. Ainsley looked blissfully fucked out, she was holding her phone. It was pointed only at summer, recording her reactions to the sex. Good, the memory would be helpful for us all, going forward.

“Um, Kamie?” Brittany asked, her chest was out, her lips were swollen, and I was so horny I felt less than human. “Do you think you could make me come like that?”

They all looked at me, wide eyed and curious.

Yes. But not before I got my own pleasure. Ainsley put down the phone, but only for a moment. When the evening was over and everyone went their separate ways, the group chat was flooded with pictures and videos from the night, everyone remarking on what was captured, what fun they had.

#the friend group #unedited #work? nah not safe #it didn’t come out the way I wanted oops #whatever #maybe a new series idk

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philadelphia-hq · 1 year

Photo

"The way you make an omelet reveals your character."

ROSE RALEIGH

Age: 26 Gender and pronouns: Female, She/Her Occupation: Chef De Partie at Friday Saturday Sunday Neighborhood: Fishtown

BIOGRAPHY

tw: parental abandonment, cancer, infidelity

Rose Raleigh was the result of a quarter-life crisis.

Her mother, Alma, during a nervous breakdown of sorts, ran away from her husband and two children and landed herself in Philly while having what she described as “a nervous breakdown about her impending 30th birthday”. In a matter of weeks, after meeting him in the family diner where he worked, she was shacked up with Donny Raleigh in his apartment over the restaurant – named ‘Rosie’s Table’, a neighborhood staple. It wasn’t more than a month later that Alma was staring down two pink lines on a pregnancy test in Donny’s bathroom.

Her third child was on the way.

Fast forward to roughly eight months later, and Alma had had a change of heart about Donny, along with her husband and kids. Unceremonious would be the best way to describe her exit from the hospital after giving birth to her baby girl, jumping on the next flight out to reunite with her “real” family.

Donny didn’t think twice about what single-fatherhood would mean – the guy was all in. He raised Rose (named after his mother, the diner’s namesake), in the apartment above the diner. Rose grew up around the sizzle of the fryers and the smell of grilled onions; Sunday brunch regulars gossiping over endless coffee refills and hungover college students begging for a bacon egg and cheese even though they were a buck short. As soon as she was old enough to refill a ketchup bottle and roll silverware in a napkin, Rose was on the payroll.

She wanted connection desperately, and it was so easy for her to find in the kitchen. Rose loved the feeling of nourishing people, being a part of their daily routines and special events by proxy of the food that she made for them. She soaked up every foodie blog she could stumble across – Donny even sprung for the extended cable package so they would get more cooking channels. It wasn’t a shock to anyone when she set her sights on Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.

(Thank god for scholarships and Donny had been setting aside a portion of his tips since the day she was born.)

With a huge send off at a neighborhood block party, Rose waltzed out to Paris…and quickly realized that she was in over her head. However, failing and disappointing everyone in the diner who believed in her was not an option. With dedication and stubborn will (and several unhealthy coping mechanisms), Rose came out the other side with her degree in hand and a world full of potential at her feet –

And ended up right back in the comfort of her father’s kitchen.

It was there that she met Greg, the son of a local plumber who was allergic to pickles (hence why she remembered his order). One date turned into two, two went on to twenty, twenty led to moving in together, which led to a wedding.

Two weeks after he walked her down the aisle, Donny was diagnosed with lung cancer.

For the first year nothing seemed different, aside from a cough and chemo (which still wasn’t enough to stop the guy from smoking). Then he needed to wheel oxygen around with him – that added another year. And then things went downhill fast, and Donny was bedridden and in a hospital more often than not. Unable to handle the operations of the diner anymore, he signed ownership over to his daughter – but medical bills continued to pile up and additional treatment was needed, and then eventually in home hospice care.

Rose sold ‘Rosie’s Table’ to cover the expenses. And Donny died the next day.

The two weeks later, on the last day the diner was open, Rose ended up fucking a friend over the prep counter after closing. Greg ended up seeing the security video.

Things went downhill fast.

Divorce paper's freshly sighed and living in a studio partment, she pours herself into her position as a line cook at one of Philly's most exclusive restaurants – smoking out back like a fiend, doing a line or two mid shift, and wondering how the hell she got here.

ROSE RALEIGH has the face claim of DAISY EDGAR JONES and is played by DELL.

#fishtown #b #daisy edgar jones

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humansofhds · 2 years

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Katarina Wong, MTS ’99

“I think a lot about the word ‘belonging,’ because it goes hand in hand with not feeling ‘enough of’ in terms of my own culture and longing to belong. For the two years I was at HDS, genuinely engaging intellectually and spiritually with some of the deepest questions that shape our humanity became an incredible lesson in owning where I am. HDS became a community I felt I belonged in. I think that's the core of HDS for me—that belonging and exploring the expression of human experience.”

Katarina Wong is a writer, artist, and curator and is the associate director of fellowships at The OpEd Project. With a Cuban mother and Chinese father, she is the first generation of her family born in the U.S. Her writing and her artwork merge themes from these cultures as a way to understand the immigrant experience and her cultural inheritances.

HDS, NYC, and the Impact of the Pandemic

I graduated from HDS with a master of theology studies degree within the world religion track and with a focus primarily on Buddhism. After almost 20 years in New York City, I left after five months of the pandemic and moved to Santa Fe. In fall 2020, so many of us were working remotely, but I think we all thought we'd get a grip on this, and that life will go back to usual.

I was working at Columbia University as program manager of arts administration at that time, and a friend invited me to Santa Fe knowing that New York was a rough place to be. I went to Santa Fe thinking I'll get a little bit of a reprieve, but then we didn't go back. As I was in Santa Fe working remotely, another opportunity came along that led me to change jobs. I am now the associate director of fellowships at The OpEd Project, which is an organization dedicated to elevating underrepresented voices in the most urgent, important public conversations happening.

The unexpected upside of the pandemic was that it gave me time. Without access to a ceramic studio, I decided to focus on completing a memoir about renovating an apartment in Cuba and confronting my own cultural heritages, which had always been very uneasy for me. I grew up feeling I wasn't Cuban enough, not Chinese enough, not American enough, though that I've come to accept that being in this liminal space between the three cultures is a place in and of itself—one I can find respite in.

Religion, Spirituality, Art, and the Relationship with Vulnerability

Another thing that happened during this time was that my undergraduate alma mater, St. John's College, started a series called Spiritual Journeys and invited me to speak about my own spiritual journey. I centered my conversation around something I had been thinking about when I was at HDS: How, as an artist, do I talk about art as I experience it in the studio as a nonlanguage-based experience with its own kind of logic? It’s always seemed like a question of translation, which fueled my interest in the limitations of language around these kinds of experiences.

Before I went to HDS, I had been reading contemporary Buddhist writers. I realized Buddhism has a whole library around the limitations of language, not about art necessarily, but about the enlightenment process, which is a nonlanguage-based experience. There is language around it in the practices, the chanting, and the ritual, but there's a gap between how far language can take you and the experience itself. That gap became interesting to me, and how sometimes we prioritize language over experience. How much does language help one get into the experience of something beyond it? At what point do we just have to stop talking?

I grew up being curious about my parents’ respective religions. In my father’s village, the religious practices were a blend of Taoism and Buddhism influenced home altars. Certain days, mysteriously, his mom would be doing something on the home altar, but he never knew what it was. It was part of the fabric of how everyone lived, but for my dad, it felt more superstitious than religious.

My mother went to a convent school where she had very good experiences. Her beliefs are definitely influenced by her Catholicism. When she came to the United States, she continued to carry her beliefs but didn’t feel the need to be active in the church; however, my parents decided to send my sisters and me to evangelical school thinking that it would be stronger academically than public school. They probably thought a little religion can't hurt you, but I had a very negative experience there. I became very cynical about Christianity, especially as it was expressed in the fundamentalist movement. I formed a lot of very strong judgments that I still can feel occasionally rising up in me today.

Through my experience at HDS, those feelings began to soften and to shift. As I get older, I see that there is so much in religion, in spirituality, in art, in relationships that the only way to go deep is to allow yourself to be vulnerable. When I was in my 20’s my heart was more on my sleeve. Then, through lived experiences, I built defenses around that vulnerability. That's the thing that I find needs to come down first: breaking that barrier, being vulnerable to one another and to oneself by letting yourself be vulnerable by asking questions about practices and being open to experiences that are not your own. Curiosity goes hand in hand with, or maybe leads the way towards, vulnerability. If you can be deeply curious about someone else's experience and put judgment aside, that's a way of allowing yourself to be vulnerable.

Following the Unexpected Rhizome Path to a Place of Belonging

I chose HDS somewhat serendipitously because of a conversation I had with Sohyun Bae, a friend and fellow artist who had attended. I had never thought of divinity school as a place where you could ask the questions I had been grappling with, but we got into a conversation about the question of translation and nonverbal experiences, and she said I should consider Harvard Divinity School. So, in following one of those unexpected little rhizome paths, I applied and was accepted.

When I got to HDS, I really had to confront my own biases. My time at HDS gave me an opportunity to rethink Christianity. Some of the courses I loved taking were around early church history and some of the esoteric movements. I found I was able to reconnect with Christianity, not in a way that I would consider myself Christian, but I gained an appreciation for the beauty and the meaning that this religion can bring to people. On that level I began to feel, who am I to judge? I let go of some of the antipathy that I had towards Christianity that I experienced as a kid.

There's something about the HDS community that was so welcoming and so intellectually curious, pulling people in from everywhere, studying all these different things that allowed me to be open. I remember at orientation the words, “you all belong here,” which reminded me of my reaction when getting my HDS acceptance letter. I thought, oh my god, I got the other Katarina Wong's acceptance letter. I'm just going to show up and hope that she doesn't show up. I was experiencing “imposter syndrome,” but as I made friends and I talked to other people I found out that everyone felt that way.

I think a lot about the word "belonging,” because it goes hand in hand with not feeling “enough of” in terms of my own culture and longing to belong. For the two years I was at HDS, genuinely engaging intellectually and spiritually with some of the deepest questions that shape our humanity became an incredible lesson in owning where I am. HDS became a community I felt I belonged in. I think that's the core of HDS for me, that belonging and exploring the expression of human experience.

For Incoming Students and the Recently Graduated

To incoming students, I would say, take advantage of everything that HDS has to offer, including the whole Harvard University system and consortium. I audited a lot of classes and attended many of the Harvard public offerings. I made it my full-time career for two years to follow my curiosity and see where it led. Use this as an opportunity to build beautiful relationships with others, especially those who you might not otherwise. My HDS experience and the people I met are what helps sustain me even today.

For those who are moving into a post-HDS career, whether to get your PhDs, or on to chaplaincy and onto a career, the opportunity is to continue those relationships. Use your experience at HDS to consider the most important and pressing problems that we're challenging today—social justice, climate change, inequity, and so much more!—and ask yourselves, How can we be in this world with integrity and with love? That is a super important question—one that HDS helped me to think about differently and to reshape those conversations with others.

Interview conducted and edited by Denise Penizzotto; photos courtesy of Katarina Wong

#Harvard #Harvard Divinity School #art #cuba #china #buddhism #Christianity #large

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twittercomfrnklin2001-blog · 8 months

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Dear Heart

I have a strange relationship with Geraldine Page’s work. I like her best in the material for which she has the least respect. Put her in a mindless comedy or melodrama, and she delivers a wonderful performance, often much more fleshed out than what was in the script. And I delighted in her deft playing of Alan Ayckbourn’s farce ABSURD PERSON SINGULAR on Broadway. Put her in Tennessee Williams or Woody Allen at his most serious or, goddess help us, Chekhov, and after five minutes I want to step out for a smoke. I’ve never smoked. I hate smoking. But I’d take it up to get away from those self-conscious, mannered performances. Between her on-screen bouts with Williams and Chekhov, Page was cast in Delbert Mann’s romantic comedy DEAR HEART (1964, TCM), and she’s a delight. You can see echoes of her more serious work — the fussiness she brought to Alma Winemiller and a gesture she would slow down to an almost glacial pace in INTERIORS (1978) — but here it all serves to make the character more endearing and dimensional. As a single woman of a certain age attending a post master’s convention in New York, she’s like the new Jean Arthur. Her Evie Jackson comes off the train from Ohio at the start and knows the names of all her fellow passengers and the porters. She leaves messages for herself at the hotel desk or has herself paged just to feel somebody cares. Then she meets Glenn Ford’s womanizing greeting card salesman, who’s about to move into an office job and marriage to “that tomato from Altoona” (Angela Lansbury), and something magical happens. Her fussy, detailed acting and his proficient, studio-trained mining of personality meet and make something beautiful. There’s a scene in which he shows her the apartment he’s just rented for himself and Lansbury that’s a gorgeous acting duet, and they have a fully dressed scene in Page’s hotel room that’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. You half expect them to light cigarettes when it’s over. Tad Mosel adapted the script from his TV play. When he’s writing for the adults it’s spot on. The early scenes for Lansbury’s son (Michael Anderson, Jr.) appear to have been written by somebody with no understanding of young people, and Anderson comes off almost unbearably glib (he settles in later). Lansbury is very good as Ford’s fiancée, and the supporting cast also includes Barbara Nichols as another of her cheap blondes (but this one is funnier than she is irritating), Richard Deacon as the convention’s manager and a glorious trio of cranky old women played by Ruth McDevitt, Mary Wickes and Alice Pearce (I’m always amazed at how much nuance she can bring to roles like this). The Henry Mancini-Jay Livingston-Ray Evans theme song — the producers liked it so much they named the film for it — was more successful than the movie, but I think the film is ripe for rediscovery along with some of Delbert Mann’s other late works.

#romantic comedy #geraldine page #glenn ford #angela lansbury #michael anderson jr.#barbara nichols #ruth mcdevitt #alice pearce #richard deacon #mary wickes

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mirandamckenni1 · 9 months

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youtube

Liked on YouTube: Meeting this Syrian toymaker was nothing like I expected it to be || We Were Here || https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoWbPi1EEDI || I'm so excited for you to meet my new friend Mohammad. Thanks to everyone who helped make this happen, here's more information on the project: In support of World Refugee Day, We Were Here is an original documentary series from YouTube and UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency, that seeks to challenge stereotypes and perceptions about refugees by focussing on what unites us rather than sets us apart - our shared passions. You can see the other episodes in the series here: The Permaculturist - on the Gaz Oakley YouTube Channel - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCF-ACPYNN0oXD4ihS5mbbmw The Musicians - on the Jax Jones YouTube Channel - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCj95pmTj8-hClQPPc972VOw All episodes of the series are also featured on the YouTube playlist - http://yt.be/wewerehere Learn more at https://ift.tt/v4SsQHd #worldrefugeeday Directed by: Mahmoud Al Massad @massada Contributors: Mohammad Waheed Hussein Asaf, Simone Giertz Production Company: Uncommon Creative Studio @uncommon_london In Association With: Lief @we.are.lief Producers: Shananne Lane, Margo Mars, Rosie Woods @shanannelane @margomars @rosie_esme_woods Executive Producers: Alma Har’el, Nils Leonard, Charlie Gatsky Sinclair @alma.harel @nilsleonard Series Director: Laura Checkoway @laurachecks Casting Director: Six Minutes @sixminutes_casting Production Managers: Luke Tilbury, Laura Jenkins @thetilla Director of Photography: Ahmad Jalboush @ahmad_jalboush Editor: Simon El Habre @simonelhabre Additional Editing: Lewis Noll @lewisnoll Colourist: Yoomin Lee @yoominleecolourist Sound Designers: Patch Rowland & Nigel Mannington @patchland Music Supervisor: Bridget Samuels @bridgetsamuels Jordan Unit Producer: Faris Halaseh @faris_halaseh Service Production Company: Where To Film 1st AD & Translator: Leen Hamarneh @leenwithit 1st AC: Hussein Qadan @hussein_qadan Camera Operator / AC: Amr Khaled @_amr_khaled Location Manager: Ahmad Shehdeh @ahmad_jello Art Director: Ayoub Nahhas @ayoub.g.n Sound Recordist: Hussam Sabanekh @hussam.sabanekh DIT: Saif Abu Rabear @saif.aburabeea Sound Assistant: Bashar Khawaja Production Assistant: Hamzeh Hamidah @hamza.o.hamida Driver: Rashed Zghool @rahidzgh Assistant Editor: Patil Aynedjian Audio Post-Production: Machine Sound @machinesound.co Audio Executive Producer: Rebecca Boswell @rebeccajboswell Audio Producer: Amber Clayton @amberimogen1 Machine Music Supervisor: Brice Cagan @@bricecagan Audio Assistant: Chas Langston @chaslangston Colour: Company3 @company_3 Colour Producer: Kerri Aungle @kerrilondon Post-Production Company: Jam VFX @jamvfxuk Online Post Producer: Angus Berryman @angusberryman Title Design: Uncommon Creative Studio @uncommon_ldn Translations / Subtitles: Wael Joudeh @donotgooutside Production Assistant: Gaaron Clarke @gaaron_clarke Director Assistant: Tally Francis @tallyfrancish Director Assistant: Sasha Nicolas @sashanicolas Junior Researcher: Ethan Elliott @ethyweathy Photographer: Emily Garthwaite @emilygarthwaite Uncommon Creative Studio Creative Director: Shaun Savage @shaunsavage_ Uncommon Creative Studio Creative: Luke Carlisle Uncommon Creative Studio Business Director: Johnny McManus @johnny_mcmx Uncommon Creative Studio Legal: Murray Taylor Uncommon Creative Studio Head of Production: Goldie Robbens @goldie_robbens Special Thanks To: Meshal Elfayez Syrian Refugee Affairs Directorate Annemarie Jacir Roland Schoenbauer Peter Sripol Extra Special Thanks To: Osama Sabbah MUSIC CREDITS Emsallam, The Archiducer - Licensed c/o Keife Records Arabic Trap - Harry T Croxford, Theo Golding, Primetime Productions Ltd, licensed ℅ Universal Production Music Plant Hope - Cavendish Music, licensed ℅ PRS Major With Oohs & Ahhs - Taz Conley, Music Bed, licensed ℅ PRS Drifting With The Current 2 - licensed ℅ Machine Sound

#IFTTT #YouTube

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simmila · 6 months

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Alma's Studio Apartment || San Myshuno - 1020 Alto Apartments.

This is the final floorplan for this build, there are some rooms that i haven't upload, but for the most of it, you can find them here:

Part 1 (x) (Entrace + Kitchen & Bar)

Part 2 (x) (Dinning area + Living room)

Part 3 (x) (Music studio + Office)

Part 4 (x) (Bedroom)

Part 5 (x) (Walk-in closet + Personal bathroom)

Part 6 (x) (Library)

For those wondering, i don't upload to the gallery! But i am wcif friendly, so if there is something that interest you, feel free to ask!

#the sims 4 #sims 4 floorplan #sims 4 apartments #the sims #ts4 #sims #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #the sims community #new simblr #simblr #sims build #ts4 interior #sims 4 screenshots #simmila builds #alma's studio apartment

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coldwellbankerswap · 1 year

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Just Rented!✨

Studio Apartment in Lake View Tower, Lake Almas West

Congratulations to our Real Estate Agent @dhanesh, keep up the good work.👏 . . . 📞 Call us at 800 CBSWAP / 058 900 9747 to know more details! 📱 WhatsApp : https://wa.me/971589009747 🔗 Link in bio . . . #coldwellbankerswap#coldwellbanker#coldwellbankeruae#coldwellbankerrealestate#justrented#lakeviews#jlt#lakealmaswest#dealclosed#closing#dealdone#goodwork#nonstop#realestateagent#consultant#DubaiProperty#DubaiLuxProperty#property#propertyinvestment#rent#hotrental#rentalsdubai#hotsale#dubai#congratulations#contactus#callus

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oliverbraid · 1 year

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The amphitheatrical designs were framed by screwed-in walkways of gangplanks raised to head height for observation and accessed by bare studwork steps. Each occupant would feel the seriousness of their operations, and the productivity required through permanent display.

This first flourish we ornamented across our floor alluded to the buildings’ provenance as the third site of the Institute. Sol’s gathering of local knowledge informed our signposting the studios with wall stencils detailing practices of preceding inhabitants. Instruments of magnification adorned individual workspaces, a crucible signified the communal area, and an orrery floated above the open gallery entrance. In the lightwell, where I painted cogs and fossils on the toilet doors, Sol enlightened me. ‘Directly above our current location would be the site of the James Watt statue’. He lamented the removal of the figurehead, it’s replacement with two stories of city-break apartments, and our lost chance at penthouse status.

Sol told me that Watt pioneered the contested mechanical position of encouraging expert techniques to be adapted by everyday people. ‘From the most disposable of pre-Empire’s industrial work forces he raised the highest profile ad-hoc surgeons, amateur lawyers and unqualified engineers.’ I knew this to be inaccurate. Given Sol’s alma mater I expected Jolly Jack Phosphorous to roll off his tongue, but he stayed satisfied with his own interpretation. His pose suggested he too stood with hands resting atop an innovated cylindrical engine.

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donareply · 1 year

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Tove lo flashing concert

Exploring Tove Lo's Tove lo flashing concert and Latest Album 'FLASH': A Look at the Tracks and Production

Tove Lo’s latest album ‘FLASH’ is an eclectic blend of pop and electronic sounds that will have you dancing in your seat. While some of the tracks are more upbeat and dance-y, others take a turn towards a more experimental and experimental pop. Tove lo flashing concert. To get a better understanding of the album, let’s take a look at the tracks and production.

The opening track ‘Sweettalk my Heart’ is a mid-tempo synth-pop track that pulses with a dreamy feel. The track is a great opener to the album and sets the tone for the rest of the album. The track also has a great production with a heavy reliance on synth and a great vocal performance from Tove Lo. The second track ‘Bad as the Boys’ takes us in a bit of a different direction as it is an upbeat, electro-pop track that is sure to get you dancing. The production on this track is very tight and the track is layered with synths and electronic drums. The chorus is sure to stick in your head with its catchy melody. The third track ‘Stay Over’ is a mid-tempo track that offers a laidback, relaxed feel. This track has a great production with a nice blend of synths and acoustic instruments. The lyrics are also quite interesting as they tell a story about spending the night with someone.

How Tove Lo's 'FLASH' Revolutionizes Pop Music

Tove Lo's hit single "FLASH" is revolutionizing pop music, and it's about time! For too long, pop music has been dominated by the same cookie-cutter sounds, but Tove Lo is shaking things up with her unique blend of catchy beats and powerful lyrics. Tove lo flashes crowd .The song's catchy chorus is sure to get stuck in your head and make you want to dance along, but it's the verses that really set it apart from other pop songs. Tove Lo's frank and honest lyrics are a refreshing change of pace from the usual vapid pop love songs, and they tackle topics like heartbreak and self-love in a way that's both empowering and relatable. The production of the song is also revolutionary. The combination of a driving beat and shimmering synths create a unique sonic landscape that's both modern and retro. It's the perfect backdrop for Tove Lo's emotionally charged vocals. Overall, "FLASH" is a refreshing take on pop music that's sure to have you singing and dancing along. Tove Lo has proven that pop music doesn't have to be boring or formulaic – it can be fun, meaningful, and even revolutionary. So don't be afraid to flash your own light and show the world what you're made of!

Tove Lo's 'FLASH': A Review of the Album's Lyrics and Reception

Tove Lo's fourth studio album, 'FLASH', was released in 2019 to much anticipation from her fans. The Swedish singer-songwriter has been known for her unique blend of pop music and experimental electronic production, and 'FLASH' is no exception. The album's lyrics are a testament to her signature frankness and unapologetic attitude. From the opening track, 'Glad He's Gone', which explores the power of being able to move on from a toxic relationship, to the empowering 'Bad As The Boys', which celebrates female strength, Tove Lo paints a vivid picture of what it means to confront life's challenges head-on. Tove lo flashing crowd . In addition to its lyrical content, the album has also been praised for its production. Songs such as 'Sweettalk My Heart' and 'Stay High', which features rapper ALMA, are the perfect blend of infectious beats and lush instrumentation. Tove Lo proves that she is not afraid to take risks, and the result is a collection of songs that are both daring and captivating. Overall, 'FLASH' is an excellent addition to Tove Lo's impressive discography. Its lyrics are thought-provoking and inspiring, while its production is a testament to her willingness to explore new sounds. If you're looking for an album that will make you laugh, cry, and dance, then 'FLASH' is definitely worth a listen.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Tove Lo's Flash is an energetic and powerful pop anthem that successfully captures the singer's unique musical style. With its catchy chorus, infectious synths, and confessional lyrics, Flash is sure to be a hit with fans of the Swedish singer-songwriter. Lo's ability to craft such an anthemic and memorable song speaks to her talent as a songwriter and performer. Read the full article

#toveloflashingcrowd

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annoyinghideoutcollective · 2 years

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7 Liverpool Dil Okulu Hakkında Kaçırmış Olabileceğiniz Eğilimler

Liverpool dil okulları Sizin kucakin İngiltere’deki en muhik şehri, okulu ve izlenceı danışmanlarımızla baş başa bulabilirsiniz. İngiltere’nin en popüler zeban okullarından biri Ec English İngiltere Lisan Okullarıdır.

elden her tat alma organı okulunda çok ve yarı tombul umumi İngilizce programları, IELTS hazırlık, iş İngilizcesi,

İngiltere’bile zeban eğitimi bağırsakin bulunurken 6 yahut 11 maaş vize süren bulunur. Eğitimin bittikten sonrasında vizen icazet verdikçe eğitimini istediğin derece uzatabilirsin fakat ara sınav uzatılabilir bir vize bileğildir.

Buzzwords, De-buzzed: Liverpool Dil Okulları Fiyatları

Liverpool dil okulları Eğer ki öğrenci vizesi alarak kursa sertlacaksanız ve okuldun göndereceği bir çağrı mektubuna ihtiyacınız varsa bunun farklı koşulları mümkün. Lütfen öncelikli şartları inceleyin: Vizenin Reddi Yerinde Tercihi Koşullar

Liverpool konumundaki bu okulların sıralaması %100 şeffaftır. Tek sitemizden kıstak kursu rezervasyonu yaptıran ve katılımı doğrulanan müşterilerin sağlıklı incelemelerinin nesnel kriterlerine dayanmaktadır.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/yPioKeg_LzI

Academix'teki eğitim bilimi danışmanlarımız size en yaraşıklı ve en güncel promosyonları sunacaktır. Gündeş tenzilat fırsatları midein 2020 Tat alma organı Okulları Promosyonları listemizden yararlanabilirsiniz.

16 Liverpool Dil Okulu Pazarlamacıları İçin Mutlaka Takip Edilmesi Gereken Facebook Sayfaları

Liverpool dil okulları İlgilendiğiniz programlarımızla ilişkin size elan hızlı ve ayrıntılı bilgelik aktarabilmemiz bâtınin formu doldurabilirsiniz.

Lila City Explorer + Dance Academy: Şehir kâşifi izlenceına ilave olarak haftada 9 vakit domestik bir dans stüdyosunda Liverpool dil okulları yapılan raks çalışmalarının dahil evetğu programdır.

Habitat konaklamaları daha müstakil yaşamayı tercih eden öğrenciler tarafından yeğleme edilmektedir ve elan çok self-catering olarak sunulmaktadır. Studio ve ya apart dairelerde mevcuttur.

Profesyoneller Liverpool Dil Okulu ile Sorunla Karşılaştığında, Yaptıkları Şey Budur

Liverpool dil okulları Liverpool lisan okulu seçeneklerini bileğerlendirmeye ne dersiniz? Liverpool International Language Academy, şu demek oluyor ki kısa adı ile LILA beklentilerinizinde ötesinde size bir yurtdışı dil eğitimi programı vaat ediyor.

Yurtdışı eğitim nedir? Yurtdışı eğitim bilimi; öğrencinin eğitim bilimi yaşamını devam ettirmek kucakin yurtdışına gitmesi ve eğitim yaşamının belirli bir süresi süresince eğitimini yurtdışında sürdürmesine yurtdışı eğitim denilmektedir.

İngiltere Dil Okulu bedel sıralamasında beğendiğiniz okulun ismine tıklayarak, seçtiğiniz kıstak okulu ile müteallik henüz detaylı haber edinebilir ve okul videolarını izleyebilirsiniz. Güncel İngiltere yürek okulu paha listesini inceleyin, indirimlerden faydalanın.

Liverpool Dil Okulu: Basit Bir Tanım

Liverpool dil okulları Homestay: Ev yanı konaklama İngilizcenizi geliştirmek bağırsakin tavsiye edilen en güzel konaklama seçeneklerinin başında gelir.

Size referans ve dayanak verebilmek derunin aracı kurumlarla çhileışıyoruz. Ferdî verilerinizi nite çalışmalediğimiz üzerine daha bir tomar veri kazanmak bağırsakin Gizlilik politikamıza bölüm atın

Derece İngiliz mirası olarak nitelendirilen zamanı bir binanın 2. Taşlıknda bulunmaktadır. Meslek binası şehir merkezine 10 dakikalık yürüme mesafesindedir ve toplu erişim noktalarına yakındır.

En İyi Olanları Alıyor musunuz? f Liverpool Dil Okulunuz mu?

Liverpool dil okulları İlgilendiğiniz programlarımızla alakalı size henüz hızlı ve ilimlı veri aktarabilmemiz sinein formu doldurabilirsiniz.

Yurtdışı Eğitim’in görmüş geçirmiş danışmanları size şehir beklentinize ve ekol tercihinize için şehir

Öğrenciler istekleri doğrultusunda rastgele bir ayın ilk haftasında zeban okuluna sarrafiyelayabilmekteler.

Liverpool dil okulları Horizon Heights, Liverpool'un faal Knowledge Quarter bölgesindeki Lime Street şimendifer istasyonunun indinde mevzi almaktadır. Okula sadece 20 dakikalık yürüme mesafesinde ve Liverpool'un en kebir barları ve restoranlarıyla çevrili olan bu bölgede, ihtiyacınız olabilecek her şey elinizin aktında olacak. Horizon Heights'ta mikrodalga fırın, tam donanımlı fırın, lavabo, kez ısıtıcısı ve kazanç kızartma makinesi mideermiş şık mecra odaları ve mutfaklar bulunmaktadır.

Liverpool Dil Okulları Hakkında Daha Fazla Sonuç Nasıl Alınır Dil Okulları

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Sporla aranız iyiyse ve özellikle ayak topu seviyorsanız Liverpool doğrusu sizin ilginizi çoktan çekmiş demektir. Liverpool’un Manchester şehrine ortalama 50 km uzaklıkta olması da aynı zamanda Manchester maçlarını da rahatlıkla izleyebileceğiniz fehvaına gelmektedir.

İngiltere’yi tercih ederler. İngiltere dil okulları sene süresince yaptıkları çeşitli promosyonlarla Türk

Bu derginin çıbayanlış amacı, yalnızca fırka ideolojisinin pekâlâştirilmesi olmasına karşın Elazığ ve çevresinin tanıtımını yapmakla bile taharri ve incelemeler ilkin edinmek üzere fikrî ve toplumsal muhtevalı kırlar, şiirler ve hikayelere de mahal mevdutir.

Liverpool dil okulları The Beatles Story Müzesi; İngiltere’nin Liverpool şehrinde kurulan ve 60’lı senelerın en popüler gruplarından olan Beatles üyelerinin musiki aletlerinden şahsi eşyalarına denli biriyi özel eşyalarının sergilendiği müzedir.

Neden Liverpool Dil Okulu Hakkındaki En Büyük "Mitler" Aslında Doğru Olabilir

Bir liman kenti olan Liverpool’da Victoria stili binaların oluşturduğu sokaklarda cafe ve restoranlar bulabileceğiniz, size farklı bir dünyadaymışsınız hissi verecek bir yer var: Albert Rıhtımı (Albert Dock). Liverpool’da gezilecek bölgeler Albert Rıhtımı’nın ardından Tate Galerisi, Merseyside Denizcilik Müzesi ile devam edebilir. Bir özge önemli derece ise Liverpool’un merkezinde mekân saha Pier Head bölgesi. En önemli üç mimariyı bağırsakermiş bölgede aynı zamanda Titanic’in araba dairesinde çaldatmaışan ve faciada yaşamını kaybeden denizcilere adanmış bir hatırat da bulunuyor.

Eğitim kalitesi ve kullanılan materyal itibarıyla sabahleyin programıyla aynı olmakla beraberinde öğleden sonra programları sabahleyin programlarına için %25-30 önında henüz uygundur. İngiltere’deki okulların tamamına doğruında IELTS tedarik ve iş İngilizcesi programları vardır ve bu dersleri seçmeli olarak alabilirsiniz.

Liverpool dil okulları Hassaten Kemal eş istatiksel olarak alfabemı yazmıştım ama şunu beyan etmek gerekir ki size cidden keyfi kısaca bin bile 1-2 dediğim kısmına emsal gelip red vermişler.

Yandaki menüden, Liverpool şehrindeki promosyon alternatiflerine ve indirimli lisan okullarının paket fiyatlarına erişebilirsiniz.

#Youtube

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