truly the wildest thing about all the Bridgerton discourse about "is Nicola Coughlan too FAT to be a convincing love interest???" is that in many ways she actually looks better in the period costumes than her thinner counterparts because she has the figure to really fill them out. those dresses are incredibly flattering on larger bodies because they emphasise the bust and cleavage whilst creating a very elegant silhouette. there's something unintentionally hilarious about hearing pearl-clutching in the distance over "idk is this FAT WOMAN sexy enough to be believable as an object of lust??" whilst Penelope Featherington's majestic heaving bosoms are almost spilling out of her dress in a category 5 titty event. if anything she's too sexy. they had to spend the first two seasons putting her in ugly dresses in a desperate attempt to conceal the fact that she's serving more cunt than the entire itty bitty titty committee combined
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The most soul crushing thing is being in your mid to late 20's and comparing yourself with your peers. One of them is married, one has an amazing job, one just bought a house, one is pregnant, one is very successful. And you look at yourself and you have none of these accomplishments, you still feel like a kid inside, you're the same age but really you feel so much younger, so behind. You're living in different worlds, different lives, so far apart. And you observe them and all you want is to be like them, all grown, all independant and functional. And then the fear creeps in: What if I will never get there? What if my mental issues are always gonna keep me in the same place? And that feeling, that huge fear and doubt and incapability, I wonder if that's what they meant when they talk about a "quarter life crisis". You're gonna get there, in your own time. This is a normal experience millions of people our age have and have always had. It will be ok.
And then one day you're in your mid to late 40's. A lot of your friends with the "perfect" marriages are divorced now; the ones with the "perfect" jobs burned out early, or succumbed to the grind. Some have kids, some don't. Some found their passions at work, some crashed and burned spectacularly, some are working a job for the paycheck to support their hobby of making their little clay animals or tending their backyard chickens. You? You know what you want, now. It's not the same as what you wanted when you were 25. In fact, you're kind of glad you didn't get those things then, because you became wise, at some point, while you weren't looking. You know now, in a way you never did when you were young, that your brain isn't actually that weird, and there are so many people like you, and all of them, including you, deserve to feel good and loved and cared for. You still feel like you're about 12 on the inside, but everybody else does too. You've learned to be kind, not least to yourself. You're happy more often than you're sad. You have people you love richly, and who love you. You laugh all the time. One day you sit by the lake in the late afternoon autumn sunlight and you think about being 25, and how you were convinced your life was already over, and you smile, and think to yourself, I'm so glad I'm here.
it's like i am literally never going to own a house or find authentic love or escape the clutches of late stage capitalism so really what am i living for
woman realizes that her tendency to procrastinate is not simply because she’s lazy but also due to a deep-seated fear of failure that has been fueled by everyone in her life who has not given her the space to make mistakes
A/N: it's been quite like a drought with me, i know, but writing just didn't come easy to me lately. but i finally felt inspired to write and this is the outcome so enjoy!
PAIRING: CEO!older!Harry x Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
SUMMARY: You're not what one would expect a CEO's girlfriend to be like. You're not like all those trophy wives. But does it bother Harry? That with you it's not yachts and fancy drinks and modern luxury, just wildflowers, mismatched furniture and shared finances.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
There’s nothing better than waking up next to Harry.
Okay, there are some levels in that as well, because you truly love it when he is cuddling you and peppering your shoulder with kisses, being a total sweetheart, but there is just something even better when he wakes up needy so he ends up fucking you so well first thing in the morning that you keep thinking about it the whole day.
Today it’s the latter and you’re so glad about that. Tangled in the sheets, sweaty and eager to get more and more from each other, you just keep moaning his name until relief washes over you and it’s not even seven in the morning.
“I love you. So… so… so much,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls you into his arms.
“I love you too,” you smirk and he just keeps kissing you.
When you first met Harry three years ago you would have never thought this is how you’d spend your mornings with him one day. He’s ten years older than you and it was a typical ‘he fell first’ situation where you tried to deny your feelings for him for as long as possible.
You thought you were as far apart as the poles, Harry was, and still is, a millionaire CEO, a true business man, living a life you could only dream about before. You, on the other hand, just finished your master’s degree back then and started working for a marketing agency that was linked with Harry’s company. You still remember the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was already looking at you with an expression that had your stomach in a knot.
He asked you out that day, not wasting any time and you said no. You said no exactly thirteen times before finally giving in and going on a date with him and you never let go of each other since then.
Now you live together and even though people tend to think that you just want to be his trophy wife and use him for his money, they can’t be more wrong. You still have your own job, you fight Harry to pay for groceries every other time and you tell him off every time he tries to give you money for nothing.
You’re equal and you never plan to use yourself just because you’re dating Harry.
He is still wrapped around you like a koala bear when you check the time and realize you better start get ready or you won’t make it to work on time.
“Uh, I need to get up,” you groan and just laugh when you feel him holding you even tighter. “Harry!”
“I want to hold you a bit more!” he whines like a child.
“I have work!”
Finally, your manage to peel him off of you and head over to the bathroom, feeling his pleased look as he follows you walk around naked. You like to tease him and all him a creep, but you both know you love it how obsessed he is with you even when you’re your truly natural self.
You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your robe when he saunters into the room and leaning against the tiled wall he watches you apply your mascara in awe.
“You didn’t forget about tonight, right?” he asks, his eyes wandering down your body before returning to your face.
“Nope, fancy cocktails with your fancy friends.” You give him a teasing smirk.
“And you’ll have to wear a fancy dress,” he adds.
“I know.”
“I got you one, by the way.”
“Harry, you know you don—“
“I know I don’t have to buy you shit, but you also know I love spoiling you sometimes. The dress will be in your closet when you get home,” he states, all bossy and confident and you feel the tingles in your tummy from this side of him. It’s not often he uses his dominance on you outside of the bedroom, but whenever he does, it’s always the right amount to make you weak for him.
He pushes away from the wall and walking behind you he presses a kiss to the back of your head before walking towards the door.
“I have a last minute meeting, but I will be here to pick you up at seven.” And with that he walks out.
You leave from work early to get ready for the evening. Luckily, your work is pretty flexible and it allows you to work your schedule around the social events Harry asks you out to every once in a while.
It’s not often, though. You never talked about it, but it’s like both of you knows it’s not your favorite way to spend time together. Truth is, you don’t quite fit into the circles Harry runs in. You’re not talking about his close friends, they are amazing, Sarah and Mitch are wonderful people and you’d jump to have a double date with them anytime for example. It’s the outer circle, the people Harry doesn’t necessarily consider his friends, but he makes his rounds with them every once in a while to keep up a somewhat positive relationship with them, because they are loosely also business connections and he needs them.
Tonight is one of these events, some kind of fancy rooftop party for whatever occasion where the men are smoking cigars and drink expensive bourbon while the women look good, sip on their cocktails and gossip for hours. It’s not quite your setting, but it’s not that painful every once in a while.
When you arrive home you quickly get ready, gather your hair in a sleek bun, touch up your makeup and then walk into your closet to find an elegant black dress hanging there, waiting for you to put it on.
Harry knows your taste well, it’s not over the top, but the open back and high slit brings just enough spice to the look. You pair it with the diamond earrings he got you for your latest anniversary and when you look in the mirror you feel like a boujie, quite hot version of yourself, just what you need for tonight.
At 6:57 Harry texts you.
HARRY: You ready? I’m waiting for you.
Y/N: Be there in a minute.
You slip on your heels, grab your purse and then make your way downstairs. As you’re walking across the hall you already see Harry standing by his car, waiting for you with a huge bouquet of flowers.
All wildflowers.
You’re all smiles when you step outside and approach him.
“You look amazing, baby,” he smiles as he gathers you in one arm, pulling you in for a kiss.
“Need to look fine for my man,” you chuckles, patting his chest and running your hands down the lapels of his chic suit.
“This is for you,” he hands you the bouquet and you can finally have a better look at the colorful flowers.
It’s been an ongoing thing between the two of you, Harry has never given you any roses. After your very first date he just knew you weren’t the kind who wants the expensive rose boxes women beg their partners for. You’re different, unique and he knew you appreciate the beauty in things others might consider not fitting. Wildflowers are not quite what women who are dating a millionaire want, but it’s definitely what brings you joy.
“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you smile up at him and steal another kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you into the passenger seat.
The event is what you expected, what you always expect. You make your rounds with Harry, he keeps a hand on your waist at all times, always making sure you’re alright, you have something to drink and he keeps asking if you’re cold, but it’s a warm late summer evening, so he has nothing to worry about.
At one point you part ways, it’s how it always goes, the men gather and the women form their circle as well.
“I swear, I was ready to jump off that boat and swim to the shore!” Riah, one of the wives gestures wildly as she tells a story about their latest trip to Italy, making everyone laugh.
The boat here means their luxury yacht and the reason why she wanted to leave was because they ran out of her favorite champagne. Relatable, right?
“Anyway, it was nice, we’re going on another trip next month. Y/N, wouldn’t you and Harry want to come with us?” she asks, putting you into the spotlight.
“Oh, um… I can’t really just go on a vacation on such a short notice. We usually put in our days off about two months in advance.”
The looks you get are worth a million dollars, truly. There’s confusion, pity, they obviously don’t understand why you’re working when you have Harry. They are all typical trophy wives, they spend their days shopping, going to the spa, spending the money they didn’t earn.
You don’t judge them, everyone gets to live their life the way they want, but they do judge you and that’s what irks you.
“Ah, I see,” Riah forces a smile to her face. “Well, next time… let’s plan it out like a year ahead.”
You notice the edge in her words but choose not to call her out and just nod in agreement.
“Hey, want to grab another drink?” Noora suggests you, saving you from the conversation that flows to the upcoming Fashion Week, something you will probably no attend.
Noora is the only person you get along well in this circle. She is a lot like the other women, she doesn’t work and she is definitely kept by her husband, but she is not blatantly ignorant towards people who are different from her.
“Don’t listen to Riah, she’s been a bit mouthy since she found out her cousin’s wedding cost more than hers.”
You can’t help but smile at her comment as the two of you walk up to the bar.
“I don’t know why they are always so shocked by my answers, I’ve been around for a while now and they still don’t understand me.”
“Because they don’t want to. They are happy in their little bubble,” Noora shrugs. “Just let it go. It’s not worth getting upset, you’ll just have to get through these nights.”
Nodding you let her bring something else up to talk about, but as your gaze wanders over to Harry your thoughts continue to swirl around.
He used to go on these random vacations all the time, before he started dating you he ran in these circles a lot more often, you know for a fact he went sailing to Italy at least five times a year and those weren’t considered vacations, he spent months away in Thailand, Dubai and in all corners of Europe.
It’s not like you don’t travel. You do and you love it too, but you’re also working and it doesn’t let you take two weeks off every other month. You’ve had plenty of adventures together, but you planned them all ahead and you also insisted sharing at least part of the cost. Your job pays well, but not ‘spend a month cruising on a yacht on the Adriatic Sea’ well.
Is it possible Harry misses it? That he wants you to be like these women? Free and ready to get on a private jet anytime he wants to drink his morning coffee by the Eiffel Tower? Does he want you to be his trophy wife?
His sixth sense is on, his eyes find you as you’re drowning deep in your thoughts and he shoots you a soft smile, mouthing: “You alright?”
You force a smile on your face and just nod, but you know it didn’t convince him at all, however this is not the time and place to have this discussion.
As the night carries on you just keep adding to your list of things that could possibly be an inconvenience for Harry.
Your job, wanting to be somewhat financially independent, your lack of enthusiasm for the social conformities that women in these circles are held against…
Arriving back home the feeling just intensifies, looking around the penthouse you notice how much it has changed since you’ve moved in. Before it was all modern luxury, precisely decorated, something out of an interior design magazine.
Half of the furniture has been changes, there are second hand pieces, little nick-nacks all around the place, a lot more colors and a lot less modernity.
Walking into your closet you step out of your heels and pull off your dress when Harry appears.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks. He doesn’t question if there’s something to talk about, he knows there is, because he knows you so well.
You take a few moments to think about how to put it all into words. Grabbing a big shirt you pull it on before turning to face Harry.
“Do you… Do you want me to be your trophy wife?”
Pure confusion takes over his handsome face as his eyebrows shoot up.
“Explain this a bit more to me, baby,” he asks as he casually walks closer. You know he wants to touch you, pull you into his arms, but he wants to give you space to voice your thoughts, so he just gently runs his knuckles down the side of your face.
“Does it ever bother you that I’m not like those wives?”
“In what way do you think you should be like them?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“It’s just… We don’t go on random yacht cruises, our home has mismatched furniture because I didn’t want to get rid of some of my stuff, I’m not… I don’t stay home, I have a job that I don’t want to give up… Do you want me to be more like them?”
He finally understands what this is about.
Takin your hand he pulls you out of the closet and sits on the edge of the bed, tugging you until you’re sitting on his lap, your knees on either sides of him. His hands rest on your naked thigh, soothingly running up and down as he looks you in the eyes.
“Baby, all I want is you. The way you are. No changes.”
The first wave of relief washes over you and then he continues.
“Do I want to travel the world as much as possible? Of course, but I also love that you want to work and build your own career, I love how ambitious you are and I wouldn’t want you to give it up just so we can go on yacht cruises every weekend,” he chuckles softly. With a sheepish smile you place your hands to his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his dress shirt underneath your palms.
“I love our home, I love the mismatched furniture, it’s a piece of you merged into a piece of me. I don’t want you to stay at home. Or I do, but only if that’s what you want to do. I want you to be happy. Are you?”
“I am,” you nod without hesitation.
“Then I’m happy too. I love you and I do want you to be my wife. The trophy part? Not so much.”
Now it feels silly you even thought about all of this. Harry never gave you a reason to believe he wants something different, you shouldn’t have let yourself be fooled.
“I love you too,” you smile at him before leaning in to kiss his soft lips. “And I love our life,” you mumble after several kisses.
“I love it too. The wildflowers, the secondhand furniture, our fights every time I try to pay for something,” he grins at you, hi army caging you into his embrace as he pulls you tight against him. “I love every unique piece of you and of us.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
girls live in a world where they are forced to work and there is no time to read every second of the day and a beverage does not cost one dollar. and they wonder why we’re insane
you can genuinely tell harry has been so so so happy on stage these past two years and it warms my entire heart knowing he truly loves doing what he is doing and for what his shows mean to us and the atmosphere that every fans creates for every show and its just amazing to see how far he has come and the fact that he feels so comfortable being himself on that stage I can’t imagine how tiring it must’ve been for him to tour for so long and travel across the world and yet he still put on the best show every single time giving us all such incredible memories im gonna miss him so so much but im also very happy he is finally gonna get some rest bc he deserves it ❤️
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i want to go home. i will always want to go home. even when i am at home i want to go home. but i’m not really thinking of a place, it’s more that feeling of everything finally being over, of seeing the light in the windows of your house on a cold night, of being safe, the relief of leaving a party you’re not enjoying, like when you felt sick at school and they sent you home, or when you got upset at a sleepover and they called your parents. i want my mam to come get me. i want to go home.
