#Easy Exercise for Kids

[3nn-express]

Importance of Regular Exercise: A Pathway to Health & Happiness

In today’s fast-paced world, it’s easy to let exercise slip down our list of priorities. With busy schedules and endless commitments, finding time to hit the gym or go for a run can feel like a luxury we simply can’t afford. However, the truth is that regular exercise is not just a luxury – it’s a necessity for our physical, mental, and emotional well-being. In this blog post, we’ll explore the importance of regular exercise and why it should be an essential part of our daily lives.

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[mecha--maniac]

If anyone's into it feel free to take this off my hands cause I don't want it:

Metadow where Silver's their kid, facilitated by Metal's mucking about with genetic splicing -- since apparently he's interested in biotech, judging by Heroes -- so insert whatever shipping stuff one wants with them during the 200 years or whatever, and eventually someone gets the bright idea for a test tube baby for some reason, and huh weird it came out looking a lot like that one guy they used to know from the future *wait a minute--*

[moe-broey]

GOD he might as well be wearing lingerie to the fucking battle field. Or leather gear. Either way HE'S A FUCKING WHORE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[cowbot-lumberjane]

traditional working out is stupid, find ways to make it fun. Deadass, get some martial arts pads and go to town on each other with a friend. Invest in a foam block pad or a punching bag and beat the shit out of it for 30 mins every other day. do morning stretches and go on an hour long walk/hike. lift your dog. run with your dog for 15 minutes twice a day. exercise has been made out to be some fucking rigid ritual that involves so much time/equipment/technique. you can literally just move around. play fucking wii sports for an hour but get REALLY into the movements of the sport. dance with a friend or by yourself for a while. walk around your neighborhood, go look for birds or flowers. make fake swords with pool noodles and PVC pipe and start a backyard swordfighting club with your friends. do whatever the fuck you want, there's no CORRECT way to be active. The policing of workout culture and whats properly "healthy" be it body types, body fat, workout routine, or eating habits is one of the dumbest fucking things on EARTH. Go have fun. I fucking hate working out as in: lifting weights, going to a gym, using exercise machines. I LOVE exercising as in: swimming, hiking, hitting my friends with things that wont actually hurt them, playing with my dog. YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT FOREVER. ANY AMOUNT OF ACTIVITY IS GOOD ACTIVITY. KILL THE GYM TEACHER IN YOUR BRAIN.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

One coaching challenge I'm running into is that we have an 11th grader on the team who is incredibly advanced. Like, so far above everyone else's skill level it's unreal. And her goal is to dance at a D1 college, which means that I've been watching technique videos for the last two weeks (and I'm nowhere near done) to try and find anything to help her keep leveling up.

The bright side of this whole experience is that I have run into SO many helpful notes to give my intermediate dancers to make sure they keep progressing, too.

[justposting1]

5 (Proven) Life-Changing Home Organization Secrets

When it comes to home decor, I’ve always been a bit clueless, but at the same time, I’m obsessed with organization. In this video, I’m going to share five secret principles that have allowed me to marry these two passions—organization and decor. One of the most impactful changes I’ve made involves the system behind the doors of this bookshelf. Starting with Principle One: Urgency Zones, I’ve…

[cursingtoji]

the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine

cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.

loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.

gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.

of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.

it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.

at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.

sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.

“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.

by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.

“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.

before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.

“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”

“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.

toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”

“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.

though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.

soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.

“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.

“let me alone, just today” you whined.

“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.

to correct your form. obviously.

"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.

"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.

"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.

"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.

it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.

"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.

how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...

"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.

and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.

"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.

"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.

"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.

[thepanvelite]

Bend and Stretch: The Super Moves to Keep You Nimble

Mobility stretches act like a magic spell for your body, keeping muscles and joints talking, leading to improved flexibility and energy. Start slow, progress, and feel like a superhero.

Imagine you’re a superhero, and your power is being super flexible. You can dodge obstacles, leap over buildings, and even tie your shoes without a grunt. That’s what mobility stretches can do for you—they’re like your secret superpower for an awesome, bendy body. Health Benefits Mobility stretches are like a magic spell for your body. They help keep your muscles and joints talking to each…

[meanderfall]

people tend to tell me that i work hard and i deserve to take it easy, and i never know what to say bc i dont really believe them

but also maybe i should remember how, for 13 years in p.e., i would push my body to the point of feeling like i was having a heart attack and i was going to throw up, every single time, partially bc they never taught us how we should be exercising but also partially bc i think a part of my brain figured you're not working hard unless you're hurting

and then in the last year i took that kind of class at school, i actually paid attention to what your bpm should be when working out, specifically for improving cardio

and for the first time ever, i actually enjoyed exercising. and i actually improved so much.

so maybe i dont have to be pushing myself to the point of burning out to feel like im working hard. maybe accepting that particular compliment and advice isn't contingent on me feeling like im putting in that extra effort.

[thewitchblue]

Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

[comicaurora]

hi, you seem to be drawing a lot. can you please tell me, will drawing ever become easy? or is it always a struggle?

(because for me, drawing seems like a neverending fight against artblock, and at this point, i start wondering if it's not really artblock, but instead it's just the reality of art making)

It's not so much that it becomes easy. It's more that you'll find new things about it that are hard.

Art will never become effortless because you will start finding new challenges to wrangle with, but the act of wrangling them is a good part of the fun. Finding new visual effects you struggle to capture or comprehend the shape of, let alone put down on paper. You might start off struggling to render shadows on a figure, and then as you progress you start wondering how to do shadows of foliage, or caustics of light projected through water, or how glowing eyes would cast shadows on a face, etc. New complexities reveal themselves as old struggles are mastered.

If you're struggling with something that feels like artblock, the problem might not be in your hands, but in your eyes. What to draw is at least as much of a challenge as how to draw it. If you notice your eyes snagging on small details or vistas and you catch yourself trying to work out how to capture that effect, that's your artist eyes at work, and the better you get, the weirder your artist eyes will make you.

There's an exercise my mom recommends that she got from her old teacher: three life drawings a day. Of anything - a chair, a glass of water, a tree, someone's dog, your own hand. I think this is less about honing your techniques and more about honing your eyes, training them to snag on everyday things and observe their complexities, the nuances, the way they really look, not just the way you think of them looking.

When you're a kid and you're drawing your first landscape, it's probably a house and a tree under a yellow sun in a blue sky. The tree looks like a lollipop, the house looks like a box with a hat, the sun is an egg yolk surrounded by lines, the sky is the bluest crayon you have. Maybe it has fluffy clouds in it if you were thinking ahead, cuz it's hard to draw white crayon or pencil over already blue drawings. This hypothetical drawing is a pure manifestation of art without artist's eyes; it is made entirely of what you understand things to look like, not how you see them. No real tree looks like a green lollipop. The sun is a blazing white ball that shades half of the dome of the sky in painfully bright white, and the sky is only blue in the loosest sense - even without clouds or sunsets confusing things, the sky will always fade to a lighter shade closer to the horizon. It is never uniform blue. Clouds usually look like shredded cottonballs around the edges, not fluffy rounded boubas.

This awareness extends to more complicated things. We know glass is clear. When we draw something made of glass, how can we capture that clarity? Do we just draw the outline, maybe some token specular highlights to show that it's catching the light? Or do we render the way it bends and distorts the image passing through it? We know gold is yellow and shiny; do we draw it as a yellow sparkly thing, or do we capture how it reflects the space around it? We know that water is blue and reflective. Do we draw it like we would draw a shiny blue car? Do we render a glass of water like a blue raspberry icee?

Actively perceiving the world as it is takes work and practice, but it's a vital component in all art - even completely fantastical art that is not at all drawn from life references. Skin has a particular luminosity to it, subcutaneous scattering of light that is inobvious if you just know that Skin Looks Like A Color. Even if you're painting a goblin or a mermaid or a centaur, capturing how the light hits their skin can make the difference between them looking like an action figure and looking like a living thing. If you're painting a landscape that isn't earth, it helps to have observed what earth's clouds and atmosphere really look like, how they catch and scatter the light. You have to know the rules in order to break the rules.

I can honestly say it never gets easy, but it does become a lot of fun, and if you're currently struggling to find the fun of it, it will get better the more you hone your eyes.

[rongloa]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | 𝐌. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

↜ CONCEPT | CHAPTER ONE — current ↝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. falling to earth like a comet—brilliant, burning, and broken. you don’t know their ways or their meaning. but there’s no harm in finding one thing for yourself.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬). mark grayson x fem tamarenean! reader

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. future slow burn, future gore, heavy angst, two aliens falling in love w/ each other, invincible series typical violence, extreme misunderstandings, eventual nsfw ( more to be added )

𝐚/𝐧. okay tadaaa! i couldn’t find a good way to start the story without having mark’s pov first. it’s been a long time since i wrote in third person, please go easy on my old 19 year old heart. other than that enjoy guys!

Mark isn’t quite sure why, but no matter how beat up and bruised he gets, Burger Mart is always his go to comfort. Yeah, he used to work there and it was a semi-miserable placeholder until his powers came through, but something about the greasy burgers he shouldn’t even think of eating are just what he needs. He shudders when he thinks about how they’re cooked by kids his age, but takes another bite regardless. Grease drowning his taste buds and the obscene amount of sauces gathering at the corners of his mouth.

Another bite has small bits of stray lettuce fluttering off like morbid green butterflies down past the windows of the apartment complex he chose as his lunch bench today.

The Teen Team were off doing god knows what, he can remember Rex droning on about some silly training exercise or maybe Doc Seismic? The villains just keep appearing and disappearing at this point. It’s not even abnormal to him anymore, just another part of his routine.

Yeah, this was his life.

He’s licking ketchup from his thumb and index shamelessly when, what at first, he thought was thunder—distant, but unnatural. The kind that made your ribs hum and your heart skip a beat with how loudly it travelled. Mark’s eyes flicked toward the skyline just in time to see the very air tear open. A light—an unnatural, blinding flash that painted the whole city in hues of green and gold, like it was another sun spawned right above Chicago. Not fucking good.

And something—someone—bursts through it, a blur of glowing limbs, trailing smoke and sputtering flashes of green.

And just like that, lunch is over.

He doesn’t even think as he drops his half-eaten burger, crumpling the wrapper in one hand as he launches off the edge of the building, mask pulled back on.

Just as he kicked off an immediate alert from the GDA was blaring in his earpiece, the only thing he could remotely make out through the static was Cecil’s voice barking: “Portal opened above Soldier Field Stadium—brace for a fight, and do NOT engage until you assess the situation.”

Too late.

Another one rips across the airspace, jagged and roiling, like it was folding upon itself over and over. He didn’t slow as he flew, not until he saw the needle point that came through the portal.

Three dark, angular shapes emerged, bursting from the edges of the portal with engines that screamed like tortured metal. They were armed. Fast. Purposeful. Starships of some alien species.

Not just one, but two. Two random portals opening right above the lakeside home of the Chicago Bears? Okay, no. Not right now, he shouldn’t even be thinking about football he doesn’t even watch it?

This is pretty bad.

That was the first clear thought cutting through the adrenaline pounding in his skull as he tore through the sky, wind screaming in his ears even through the material of his suit. He could still taste the lost burger on his tongue and feel the ache in his shoulders from yesterday’s training, but all of that vanished the moment the sky first opened up.

And someone was falling out of it.

No, flying—barely. A girl, lit from behind by a glow of hair too long and thick to be human, weaving mid-air like her body was seconds from giving out. Her movements were desperate. Not graceful. Not heroic. Just instinct.

And behind her—the three sleek, black alien ships screaming after her with weapons hot. He didn’t recognize the design, but his gut clenched anyway, flipped a little too hard. Nothing about them looked friendly.

Who the hell are they? Who the hell is she? It churns so oddly in his stomach. By appearances, the ships are the bad ones, but how can he be sure that she isn’t the criminal?

Mark’s body reacted before his brain could organize anything else. His arms locked forward, fists aimed ahead, and he rocketed faster toward her, trying to get a better look, to close the distance.

She was unlike anyone he’d seen—tall or maybe she just seemed that way, oddly toned and battle-worn, skin glowing faintly like a sun kissed her. Her hair blazed behind her like molten metal, so lucious and bright threaded with orange, alive. Even from a distance, she didn’t move like a human.

And her eyes? Bright. Wild. On fire.

He saw the fear there as he flew parallel to her, even before she turned away from him and darted toward the empty stretch of industrial rooftops. She thinks I’m with them, a thought that makes his heart sink yet he’s unsure why.

One of the ships flanked him—gleaming with unfamiliar symbols etched across its hull—letting out a shriek as it fired, a high-pitched frequency Mark felt in his teeth more than he heard. A hand to his head to stop the rattling, he banked right quickly and the ship flew right past him.

“Hey!” He tried calling after her but she only spared a glance. Maybe a wave? Okay definitely not, trying to wave at her seemed to make her even more scared, “I’m here to help!”

She didn’t answer, just pushed herself forward. Those green lights from before flickering at her fists like she was running on fumes. Still, she kept flying away from the built up areas—from the civilians—kept taking the fight to higher altitudes, even as she started to sway in the air.

She’s trying to protect people. Even now.

Another shriek followed and it seared so close to his back he could feel the shudder in his body. But it wasn’t meant for him. The charged black shot was meant for her as she weaved through the buildings.

The girl dodged just in time. She corkscrewed mid-air, her body trailing light. Green energy sparked from her hands, unstable and flickering, but she didn’t slow. She looped between buildings, drawing the ships after her and away from the crowded streets below.

She’s fast, Mark realized, pushing harder to catch up. Not just fast—trained.

That was all the confirmation Mark needed.

She launched a blast over her shoulder. It wasn’t precise—more like a flare of raw power than a targeted shot—but it zipped past him and clipped the edge of the lead ship’s wing, sizzling through the hull with a shriek of melting alloy.

“Alright, okay, okay.” A breath and then another.

Readying his aching shoulders as the ship barrelled ever-forward. He pumped the flight breaks, and the ship slammed right into the shoulder he steadied. The wing of the leading ship tore away from itself like bit of paper. The impact rippled across its plating, panels buckling beneath his shoulder, human wrecking ball. He grabbed hold, swinging it by the frame towards the water, the ship whistled so loudly as it flew, systems screaming, trailing smoke and debris like a dying meteor. His shoulder throbbed from the impact, but the satisfaction was worth it.

“One down!”

The girl looked over her shoulder at him in mid-flight—eyes wide with something like surprise. But before anything could be exchanged, a second ship swooped in from above, its cannon rotating and locking onto her.

Mark’s instincts screamed. “Watch out—!”

The other ship in that split second completely ignored him, flipping him away with the raw power of the engines. He just took out the most advanced looking ship, and they just flew right past? Hyperfocused on her.

Snapping from his stupor he moves right back into motion. Don’t stop, he grits his teeth, body pushing into motion once more— It’s not over yet, Mark.

They were trying to flank the girl from both sides. Mark moved fast, putting himself between her and the closest one. But this ship was faster, smarter—it fired a charged blast before he could dodge, slamming him in the chest.

Pain flared white-hot across his ribs as he crashed into the side of a parking garage, metal shrieking as he bounced off it and spun through the air. The car alarms made his ears ring as he was vaulted over the edge of it, concrete rubble and dust coating him in a chalky-grey hue.

Stopping himself mid-fall, hovering with clenched teeth, coughing hard as dust congealed in his lungs like a hard paste.

Okay. That sucked.

These ships were definitely not Earth tech.

By the time he looked up again, she was finally making her move. Why now? He was utterly lost.

Today was kicking his ass without bothering to give him an answer why.

She called out in a language Mark didn’t understand or recognise, her energy dimming for a split second before reigniting. With a growl, she brought her arm back like throwing a baseball with the type of force that hurt your arm afterwards, and hurled two glowing green bolts toward the ship that hit him.

The bolts collided with the ship’s nose, blinding it with an eruption of emerald fire. It staggered midair, and Mark wasted no time. He rocketed up and delivered a punch straight into the undercarriage. Panels giving way and caving into frayed wires and empty space. He ripped into the ship’s engine core, wrenching it out like yanking the heart from a machine. It exploded in a blaze of black light, forcing Mark to throw himself clear.

What the fuck were these ships made of?

He turned to see the last ship zeroing in on her finally. She floated unsteadily now, limbs trembling, eyes glowing with that faint colour—but dimmer than before. A long burn streaked down her side, smoke rising from it. The shoddy metal alloy that plated her arms and legs had glowing spots that look like more bolt impacts. She’d taken the type of hits that Mark could feel on his skin just from seeing them— and she just watches something below, uncaring of her wounds. One hand to the burn as she simply stares at the ground, a glance at him as the other holds itself in a placating gesture. Blood oozing over her fingers and dripping down her right leg to the toe that faces straight down, droplets of blood splattering somewhere on the ground below.

He stays in his spot, seemingly suspended by wires he can’t see. He’s a hero- shouldn’t he be moving? But he isn’t.

Even the chains cuffed around her wrists dangle in the air limply. A stalemate, a standoff. He looks down and sees a crater, there’s blood. Bodies. Death. She’s looking at the destruction below them, a thought clicks in his mind- she’s looking for closure.

Another energy blast flies past her. A simple turn of her shoulder— hair blows out behind her, coming back and whipping at her cheeks. It shrouds her partially as the fighter zeroes in, no more green light or fiery hair. A high pitched whining that rattles the bones in his own body from so far away.

And still, she keeps her eyes trained on them. Even as it settles into a hover that makes the grating of metal and the roaring of the engine so much more painful on his ears.

Alien gibberish that he so badly wishes he understood is being blared from a robotic intercom. And she frowns deeply, eyes tearing up as she just gives up. Her eyes meet his and suddenly, he understands.

A surrender.

He can’t say anything that will mean something, nor anything they will understand. So he moves, he throws himself towards the last ship as it continues in its stupid alien language.

She dives forwards before he can register it, she meets him halfway in the blink of an eye and swings him by the arm. Thrown so hard and so fast he’s left spinning through the air until he’s three blocks away. He turned to look back at her just in time to see the aftermath.

The final ship tore apart midair, bursting into fragments that rained down in molten streaks of debris.

A stray piece of the destruction launched into his leg, leaving him grunting as it buries deep into the meat of his thigh. Grabbing a hold of it he squeezed, yanking the debris out as he raised his head to observe the girl once more.

He only just caught it out of the corner of his eye, her body tilting sideways. She wobbled once in the air, and then she fell. Dropping out of the sky in one swift motion that he could barely register.

“Nonononono—!” Mark shot forward, catching her in his arms just before she hit a rooftop.

She was heavier than she looked—solid muscle, entirely limp in his arms. Her body radiated residual warmth, her skin faintly shimmering with golden flecks that glimmered under the sun. Her breathing was shallow, ragged– there were bruises across her neck and shoulders, and the wound hadn’t stopped bleeding.

“Hey,” he said softly, lowering them both to solid ground, “I got you. You’re okay.”

She looked like she’d fought through a hundred battles just to get here. Tired skin that sunk into the hollows the bones created, bruises, and the chains.

Her lips moved, parting as though she were trying to speak.

“Za’reth… kory’na shal taruun…?” the girl whispered, her voice fraying like silk.

Mark blinked, leaning closer. “What?”

Her eyes opened—just for a flicker. Bright, glowing faintly beneath bruised lids. She reached weakly toward the blue of his suit, grabbing what little give it had.

“Vel kuth’zan… reth ka’ori… Nok varan.” Her voice was rough yet so fragile, shaped by sounds he’d never heard.

He didn’t need a translator to understand the desperation in her tone, the fear clawing beneath her words.

And then, just like that, she went entirely still.

Mark’s arms tightened around her.

His pulse was still racing.

What the hell was that language? Those jets?

It didn’t matter. He saw the look in her eyes. Whoever this girl was, she hadn’t just fallen through some intergalactic portal.

She’d escaped.

Mark looked up, scanning the sky for any trace of those ships. They were gone—for now.

He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening.

He activated his comm with shaky motions, his fingers fumbling for the button, “Cecil,” he said, staring down at the unconscious girl in his arms, “I need a med evac, now.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @nightmarewasteland @xoyumiqls @isnt-itstrange @dinorawrss @luvvcharxo @adeptusxia0 @pickledsoda @jiyeons-closet @osamudizzy @yaurss @frankee4foure @zomqiez

[lukie17]

I have come to feed you. Just kidding, hope you enjoy.

Excercising with the boys

Xavier

• Instead of him hitting the bycicle, you challenged Xavier to do push ups with you on his back. If he is able to do fifty push ups then he would win a cuddle session with you.

• Xavier was enthusiastic to say the least. He started well, the first ten push ups were a walk in the park, but half way he started to feel the tension in his arms.

• Worried about being too heavy for him, you offended to get down from him and let him do the rest with you on the top of him.

• Xavier was having not of it, it was like something switched inside of him "Don't get down" he warned before continuing with a slow but steady rythm. You could practically feel Xavier's body tensing up and getting warmer by the second. Maybe it had been a bad idea to challenged him.

• Suddenly you were pulled down and Xavier was at the top of you, an animalistic expression addoring his usually angelic features.

• "I think I am going to claim my reward now" with that, Xavier let his weight fall on you, his head resting in your chest and his arms traveling to your sides, cagging you beneath him.

• I hope that you didn't have any plans for the evening because you were going nowhere.

Zayne

• This man did not want to give in your challange. Either one of you could be hurt while doing so, but doctor Zayne cannot deny you anything for so long. That evening a bet had taken place. If you won, Doctor Zayne would be your personal chef for a month and if he won then you would bake him sweets for a whole month.

• Zayne would have to do a plank for ten minutes straight with you resting on his back. Easy and no one would get hurt, well not you at least.

• Zayne had to admit that it was hard but he liked the way your warm body collided against his back. He liked the way you felt so close to him, his mind was so focused on your proximity to him that he didn't even notice the timer had announced that he win.

• Carefully getting off him, you poked him on the cheek "Zayne, you won" Zayne looked lost in thought as he stood on his feet, his face had stern expression that made you worry.

• To your surprise, Zayne's expression become something that you couldn't understand. His finger caressed your cheeks and pull you closer to him. Breaking the distance between the two of you.

• "I want another reward" that was he say before bringing you to the floor with him, his body pressed against the exercise mat "The challange had put some tension in my body, so I need a massage" His hands took yours and take him to his shoulders and chest.

• "Wouldn't you help me, My Love?" That was all it took for you to be convinced and made your fingers work in Zayne's body. Was it a reward for Zayne or was it for you? You couldn't tell anymore.

Sylus

• Sylus only smiled at your "challange" Even went so far to make a bet, if he won then he would dress you like a doll for the evening, and if you won then Sylus would do whatever you want, without complaining or judging you. You were ready to make Sylus your slave, or so you thought.

• The challenge? He would need to do five hundred squats while carrying you on his shoulder. His pace was good, not rushed but not slow. When he was at the middle, he pretended to struggle, to entertain you a bit, you know?

• He liked the way his kitten looked in his shoulders as if she could ever have won. But Sylus liked his pretty too struggle so he would finish it faster. Your smile faded away, you were going to lose, but there was nothing you could do but to watch your massive boyfriend keep going as if you weight nothing.

• "Do I even weight anything to you?" You asked as he continue, his crimson eyes returning staring at you through the gym mirror. "It's like I am carrying a rag doll"

• When the last squats was done, you tried to ran away. Knowing well that Sylus wouldn't have you any mercy while dressing you to the nines. You were his prey and he liked to play with his food.

• His evold held you in his place, and as you get pass by Luke and Kieran saying how everything was ready, you started to notice that something was wrong. Sylus was a resourceful man but how did he prepare everything so fast?

• As Sylus take you to the dressing room, you realized that he had played you like a fiddle. He had been aware of the challange, you wouldn't resist to dare him, specially with a reward as big as he had given. You had felt into his trap.

Caleb

• It was childish, Caleb knew it but he couldn't resist to take your dare to do one hundred pull ups while he held you with his robotic arm. That way he wouldn't cheat and he won't get to feel your ass while he was doing the pull ups.

• If Caleb lose then he would have to use a buttler outfit, and if he win then you would have to use a maid outfit plus cat ears.

• It started well, his previous training had prepared him and the struggle was minimum, but with your added weight it made it a little more challenging.

• At some point, Caleb realized that he was going to be able to win the challenge. His mind was already thinking what he could made you do in that maid outfit. But you have also noticed that, so you did the only reasonable think so he wouldn't win: distract him.

• Your pulled yourself up and started peppering his face with kisses, even praises fell from your lips "My Caleb is so strong", "My dear Caleb looks so good while exercising". Caleb's hold on the bar got lose with each second, he was trying to fight the urge to return the kisses and not melt under your touch, he wanted to win, he needed to win.

• His doom was a kiss right in the corner on his lips. The both of you fell down, Caleb had shield you from the fall, his body slamming against the cold floor. Yet as soon as he felt, he had pinned you under him.

• "That's cheating pipsqueack" His playful tone low enough to sound like a threat, his hands resting at each side of your head "Let's see how my pipsqueack can deal with her strong Caleb" A tickling sensation ran through your body as his hands made his way to your stomach. The room filling with laughter.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Off The Beaten Path.

Part One

Summary: Nivea Douglas takes Terry Richmond into her home after he saves her. Terry doesn’t want to be a burden, but Nivea insists.

Author’s Note: back with another story for Terry! This one will be short chapters. It’s just easier to write. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Obession, Smut, Primal Kink.

Silently, he prowled through the forest, crushing grass and twigs alike beneath his unsteady stride. His unseeing eyes flicked across the trees that passed in a blurry mix of greens and browns, searching mindlessly for his next victim.

He was only sixteen.

The evening sun had already started to set, casting the quiet forest in a haze of blood red hues. The forest was dead silent. His heavy steps were enough warning to send its usual inhabitants scurrying away to their hiding places. Even birds dared not to frequent the sky above his path, well aware of what consequences would await them. Instead, the forest remained hushed, as if every living thing was watching with bated breath as he trudged a path through the rich amber oak trees that shifted lightly in the crisp evening breeze.

He welcomed the numbing sensation in his sore, aching limbs when the crisp, winter air had grown colder and stronger.

Though he refused to look, he knew that bruises already painted the majority of his wretched flesh. Most of the pain had faded to haunting memories, however, his most recent mark still burned. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he continued on his path. One leg moved after the other in a steady rhythm. What little control he had left was slowly removed as the curse flowed through his bloodstream, igniting the beast.

There was nothing he could do now but watch the creature inside of him surface, taking full control to do it’s bidding.

Suddenly, he heard something.

A light, airy laugh rang out throughout the clearing. It was a jarring sound, bright, beautiful, and full of life, unlike anything he’d ever heard. Momentarily, he could feel himself surface, gaining control to savor the enchanting sound. However, the moment came and passed in a breath and the beast came forward, regaining control of his body and forcing him back to become a prisoner in his mind once more…

———

Present Day:

Nivea could almost taste victory as she sprinted along a winding dirt path towards the finish line. Her bohemian locs swept up into a ponytail oscillated across her upper back and the forest green GymShark matching set she wore felt more compressed from the amount of sweat that seeped from her pores. Heart pounding, ragged breaths unheard because of her AirPods, Nivea charged ahead, ignoring the burning in her glutes and thighs.

Beyoncé– America Has A Problem pounded her eardrums pleasantly. Her pink and green HOKA running shoes cushioned her size eight feet from the gravel and twigs. Running along Moon Seed Loop was an early morning ritual for Nivea. She’d been doing it faithfully since moving into her new Victorian style home with a wrap around porch.

Acadiana Park is a jewel in Upper Lafayette. It’s a beautiful place to wander with your kids, family and friends. An afternoon along the trails is more than just exciting—it’s an easy way to work in some exercise and learn a thing or two about the Park’s rich, natural landscape. Expect to see countless varieties of trees, fish and birds along the trails and beautiful waterways.

Nivea was hired as the sole Veterinarian for a pet clinic not too far from her home after moving to Louisiana from Phoenix, Arizona. She started out at The University of Arizona and after graduating she moved to the UK to study abroad and later received her doctorate. It granted her opportunities to spend time in Australia, South Africa, The Caribbean, and New Zealand. She’s in her early forties now, never been married, dated here and there, only having one long term relationship with a guy she knew from high school.

To be daring is to be bold, adventurous, and a little nervy. It’s a quality possessed by people who tend to take risks. Nivea had an audacious approach to life. Leaping off cliffs, skydiving, mountain climbing, swimming with sharks, even the little things like getting a tattoo or racing a motorcycle and even crowd surfing. Reckless and venturesome. Athletic and beautiful. She’d gotten those qualities from her late father. He was a veteran haunted by memories of the war.

Her mother, a free–spirited woman born in Trinidad and raised in New York, took a chance and moved to Phoenix where she’d met Nivea’s father who at the time still served in The Military. Nivea didn’t stay in one place for too long, a military brat who embraced a new scenery. Like her mother, Nivea didn’t have a problem with change. She embraced it.

Just like she embraced the burning in her lungs and the way her muscles ached. At the end of her run, Nivea slowed down and began smiling in victory. She placed her hands on her hips to catch her breath before pausing her music. Cracking her neck, Nivea perched her back against an old oak tree to settle her nerves before making the trip back to her car.

She licked her full, bottom lip, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. The sheen along her honeyed-skin gave her a glow similar to gold. The sun's rays tickled her melanin skin as she pushed her toned legs to the end of the forest and toward her parked vehicle. She dusted her edges with her fingers, reminding herself that she was in need of a hair appointment since it had been some months since her last one.

Her Toyota 4Runner in a desert sand color came to life with a click of a button on her key fob. Beyoncé’s mezzo–soprano voice could be heard from the speakers since her Bluetooth had connected. Nivea removed her fanny pack and opened her driver’s side door, flinging it in the passenger seat before taking a generous swig of water from her navy–blue Yeti cup. Keys in the ignition, Nivea didn’t waste time driving off, leaving her tire tracks and dirt dust behind.

_________

Sitting in his pitch black Dually, a sudden early fall rain showering it, his iridescent eyes were unwavering and intense beyond the boldness of his thick lashes as he watched his new obsession sprint through the forest. Like clockwork every morning, he waited to see her, an overwhelming sensation growing within his chest cavity so strong. Large, calloused hands grip his steering wheel firmly and his nostrils flare.

The first time he saw her, his heart fell. The second time he saw her, his heart fell. The third time, fourth time, fifth time, and every time since, his heart had fallen. He stared at her, and each time a sudden, overwhelming, and involuntary feeling of deep connection and devotion would consume him. It was immediate and intense. She’d thrown a wrench into his routine. Couturie Forest was one of the few areas he could escape and not feel as if he’d run into trouble.

She is the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her body that she worked so hard on, the way she walked, the way she smiled and laughed and the way her cheeks dropped when she’s mad or upset. The way she dragged her feet when she was tired after a long shift. Every single thing about her is beautiful.

He stared at her, tracking her with his eyes, taking in every detail even from the distance between them. When he sees her the world stops. It stops and all that exists for him is her and his eyes staring at her. There’s nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The world just stops and it is a beautiful place and there is only her. Just her, and his eyes never leaving her.

He stared. He traced with his eyes that flicker between a kaleidoscope of colors, sparkling with longing and his stomach tightening because of the powerful, almost gravitational pull that feels inescapable. She’d trapped him and he hadn’t even smelled her yet. Licked her. Traced his fingers along her skin. Filled her.

When she’s gone, the world starts again, and he doesn't like it as much. He can live in it, but he doesn't like it. He’d just walk around in it and wait to see her again and wait for it to stop again. He loved when it stopped. It’s the best fucking thing he’d ever known or ever felt, the best thing, and that, beautiful woman is why he can’t ever just leave.

A part of him wished he knew how to quit her. The strong sense of loyalty and dedication to her made it nearly impossible. Quite frankly, it is impossible. Once it happens…it happens. This wasn’t fate. Fated mates are predetermined or destined partners. No…this was sudden. Sparked immediately. An unbreakable connection that awakened his protective instincts. It was so instantaneous. He’s far from that. He needed to be in control at all times.

Turning the key in the ignition, his truck rumbled to life and suddenly his tires began to move him beyond the damp soil and onto the roadway. Jaw clenched, the sun began to peek out, his eyes appearing to have golden flecks in a sea of green. He tapped the brake pedal with his boot–covered foot until her 4Runner came into view. As soon as it came into view, his heart fell again. He waited and then he was off, trailing behind her.

The ride lasted twenty minutes and he found himself staring at her beautiful body swaying up the steps and toward her front door. He stroked his bottom lip with his thumb, staring at the home. He couldn’t get too close because she had surveillance. It wouldn’t look good showing up uninvited. He had to settle for watching her. Hoping that he would introduce himself to her. It’s been a long two weeks.

_________

Nivea took off her shoes within the foyer of her home. Her Great Dane with its square jaw and imposing size galloped up to her and stood on its hind legs to greet her. Nivea giggled at her dog, rubbing it before walking away. Before taking a much needed shower, Nivea made a quick stop into her uniquely decorated kitchen with its vintage appliances and greenery. She opened her Big Chill Retro Fridge in a canary-yellow color and grabbed a pitcher of filtered water.

Nivea proceeded to pour the water into a tea kettle on the front left burner of her 1950’s vintage oven. Flames ignited the pot and Nivea took that time to prepare her ceramic mug with some organic lavender tea. She scooped some tea herbs from a mason jar into the mug and retrieved her tea spoon. Coco, Nivea’s large yet gentile dog, followed her towards the kitchen table, earning a few scratches behind her ears.

Staring out of the large window overlooking her garden, Nivea thought about her date that evening. She’d agreed to go to dinner with a man named Ian who’s German shepherd she’d taken care of. Nivea was wary about Ian for a while, because he’s recently divorced. The man was persistent in asking her out, even when his legal troubles were ongoing. That charming smile and carob skin distracted her and she couldn’t help but smile whenever he’d come in with his dog. Ian with his salt and pepper locs, well–muscled frame, and charisma.

The whistle of the kettle had Nivea standing from her seat. She turned off the stove top and poured the water into her mug. Nivea allowed it to steep for five minutes before taking a small sip of the hot tea, shutting her eyes as the immediate calming and therapeutic effects wash over her. With her tea, Nivea left her kitchen and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. On the second floor landing, she paused to sip her tea again.

What was she going to wear? A dress? Jeans and a cute blouse? Heels? Flats? The sound of the shower beyond the master bathroom filled her spacious bedroom as she combed through racks of clothes within her narrow walk–in closet. Multiple dresses were left discarded as she tossed them to the side. She still had hours to go before her date, but the thought of entering the dating scene again sparked her anxiety tremendously.

While nervousness is expected when meeting a new person, dating anxiety is more intense and long lasting. Nivea’s long term relationship caused her emotional and physical pain. Her ex fiance had been controlling and manipulative for years, one of the reasons why she’d left Arizona behind. While he moved on as if nothing happened, Nivea lived in fear of meeting someone new.

Nivea settled on a ruffled halter mini dress in red with a black moto jacket and distressed black heeled boots. She pinned her locs up and undressed herself, tossing her dirty athletic attire into her bin. She entered her bathroom and stepped into the shower. Nivea took her time cleansing, exfoliating, and moisturizing. Back in her room, she slipped on a thin, graphic T-shirt and loose sleep shorts with fuzzy socks. Locs in a messy bun, Nivea left her room with her mug in hand to enter her office for a bit of light reading.

Entering her office, she opened her window to allow a breeze in. The smell of rain and grass filled her nose as she curled up on her reading chair. Opening her smut book to where she left off, Nivea pursed her full lips to fight the urge to smile. She couldn’t wait to finish where she’d left off. Meanwhile, the black truck out front hadn’t made an effort to leave.

___________

“Table for two, please.”

The cool evening air transitioned into toasty coziness as they entered a semi–crowded Steak House. Pleasant, savory smells and the clatter of utensils against plates teased their senses. Nivea clung onto Ian’s bicep as her eyes swept over the restaurant in anticipation. The hostess, a pleasant Asian girl with long, shiny black hair and a pointy face, gathered two menus before leading them away from the booth and towards a table shrouded in a low ambiance.

“Thank you…”

Ian worked to pull out Nivea’s chair. She smiled at him with her ruby-red lips. Ian pushed her in closer before taking his place across from her. They locked eyes for a brief moment before staring down at the menus before them.

“I know I’ve said it before, but…you look beautiful.”

Nivea smiled, “Thank you, Ian. You look very handsome.”

Ian wore a black Lacoste polo shirt and khaki pants with black dress shoes. He had a fresh retwist, locs falling over his broad shoulders.

“Did you work today?” Ian asked.

Their waiter made his way over, a tall, white male with sandy brown hair and dark blue eyes that reminded Nivea of the Pacific Ocean. His name is Ben. Ben filled their water glasses and vowed to return shortly to take their orders.

“I had an off day. Went for my morning run in the forest and spent the remaining day inside. Something I cherish when I can since my schedule is full most of the time. You?”

“Detective work never dies. Working this case that’s taking a toll on me…”

Ian released a stressful sigh.

“…do you want to talk about it?” Nivea questioned cautiously.

“Nah. I don’t want to unsettle what’s supposed to be a romantic evening,” Ian smiled faintly, “Tell me a little more about you, Nivea. What does a Veterinarian do for fun?”

Nivea chuckled, “I make the most of life. I love to travel, I’m an adrenaline junkie…yes, yes. While I do love a good time, I have my moments where being alone with my Coco is enough. Reading, meditating, gardening…I do a little bit of everything.”

“Kickboxing? Let’s not forget that.” Ian mentioned with a smirk.

“Oh yeah, how can I overlook that,” Nivea replied sarcastically, “Didn’t mean to startle you with my high kick.”

“That leg is lethal,” Ian laughs, “I mean, seriously. We could use you on our team.”

Nivea giggled behind her hand, “How would I be of use to you? What would a kick do to take down an armed killer?”

“You’d be surprised.” Ian quipped.

“Sure,” Nivea’s dimpled smile increased, “Tell me about the case.”

“Eager, are you?”

“Let’s just say…I’m a true crime lover. It fascinates me.”

Ben made his way back over. Ian ordered a bottle of red wine and oysters.

“This case isn’t for the faint hearted, Nivea.”

“My heart isn’t a home for cowardice,” Nivea replied.

Ian looked upon her with a deep stare that seemed intrigued and surprised by her words. Nivea simply smiled, one brow arched.

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve heard about the missing hikers from Monroe?”

“I have. The two couples…”

“Yeah…well…they’ve been found. And…all four are dead. Bodies mutilated and buried beneath a slashed tent on Palmetto Island Campground.”

“Goodness…mutilated?”

“Disfigured. Large slash marks and bludgeoned.”

“You don’t think an animal had something to do with it?”

Ian shook his head, “We’ve looked into that. There’s no way. Their wallets and other personal belongings are missing as well. Someone did this. No eye witnesses.”

“Jesus,” Nivea accepted her filled glass of wine from Ben, “Any signs of a struggle? Defensive wounds?”

“Yes. You could tell they tried to escape. Two bodies were found away from the campsite. They received the worst possible attacks.”

“Scary…”

Ian nodded his head in agreement, “Shaken up?”

Nivea glanced over at him with a tiny hint of a smile, “A little. Maybe I should be careful running alone in the forest while a killer is at large in Lafayette.”

“Maybe you should run on a treadmill for a while instead.”

Nivea giggled.

“I’m serious, Nivea.” Ian said.

“I’ll be fine, Ian. I run along the Moon Seed Loop trail.”

“What difference does it make? You’d be better off in a gym.”

Nivea shifted in her seat. Ian sensed her unease.

“Sorry. I just…I want you to be safe.”

“I appreciate it. Really. I know it’s in your nature to worry. But I’ll be fine.”

Ian took a sip of his wine. Their oysters arrived and Nivea ordered red snapper.

“Fish at a steakhouse?” Ian teases.

“I’m pescatarian.”

“Oh–I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay. I used to love red meat at one point. That was ten years ago.”

“Next time, I’ll take you to my favorite seafood place.” Ian vowed.

Nivea smirked beautifully, “Next time?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to do whatever it takes to win your heart.” Ian confessed.

“Woah there, tiger,” Nivea said, “Still have to get through date number one.”

“I have a lot of work to do then.”

“Damn right,” Nivea replied.

“It’s worth it. You’re worth the trouble.” Ian said.

“Good trouble.” Nivea replied with a tilt of her glass.

They shared a look. One filled with excitement and anticipation.

“Why Lafayette? Phoenix is a great city.” Ian asked.

“Got tired of the desert.”

Ian laughs, “Seriously. Why the sudden change?”

Nivea shrugged a single shoulder, “I wanted a fresh start. My love life was at its end. They offered me a hefty salary here. I’ve always loved Louisiana. Didn’t see why not.”

“Ex boyfriend?”

“Ex fiancée,” Nivea dramatically enunciated.

“Oh? You were engaged?”

“To a narcissist. One of which scarred me for life. One I kept going back to even after he’d proven to me time and time again I meant nothing to him.”

Nivea drank some of her wine to conceal the tightness in her throat. So long ago yet so fresh.

“I’m sorry, Nivea. I know what it’s like.”

Nivea cleared her throat, “Your ex wife?”

“Shannon. We built a life together. Had two children. She had an affair with her personal trainer. Threw away almost twenty years of marriage.”

Nivea didn’t know what to say. She’d been cheated on in the past, but in the same breath, she’d done the cheating herself. New dick to numb the pain. That ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ rump. She could recall how good it had felt to have another man make her cum on his dick and take his cum down her throat. Going back home to her ex fiance with the stench of another man on her.

“The divorce was amicable I guess?” Nivea asked after a long, awkward pause.

“It was. However, it left its mark on the kids. My daughter is taking it the hardest.”

“She’ll come around I’m sure.”

“I hope.” Ian responded in a solemn tone.

Nivea perked up, grabbed her glass of wine, and raised it.

“Let’s toast to new beginnings.”

Ian lifted his glass high and both of them clinked them. Ian watched Nivea down her wine in one sip. He chuckled into his glass.

“More?”

“Hell yeahhh! Whoops—”

Embarrassed by her outburst, Nivea giggled into her hands. Ian simply laughed.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a wine–o.”

“No worries. I love when you let that side of you show.”

Nivea’s tawny–brown skin tinted beneath his gaze as she fought the urge to smile.

________

A Week Later:

Sitting in anticipation of seeing her again left him feeling anxious. It’s been too long since she’d entered his life without any real connection. He’d heard her voice through a window and as she was leaving work, but he hadn’t smelled her. Touched her. All of which he longed for. He occupied his usual parked spot hidden from view, dressed in a black T-shirt and Wrangler Jeans. One elbow propped up against the open window of his truck while his other hand gripped the steering wheel.

Checking the time, he should have expected to see her pass beyond the trees. However, an uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. She’d never missed a trail run. It was a part of her meticulous routine. Had she overslept? Did she decide to skip a run? Why would she alter her routine? Frustration and worry coursed through his body as he contemplated leaving his truck behind to search for her.

He kept a distance because he knew what it looked like stalking her. She’d be afraid, call the police, and he couldn’t have that. Not when he needed her so badly. Stroking his bottom lip with his thumb, his ever–changing eyes moved about, hoping to spot her. Minutes stretched on and so did his patience. His mind drifted to the worst possible scenario. One he was all too familiar with. Begrudgingly, he opened the door to his truck and climbed out. His heart hammered away behind his mended ribs as he walked along the gravel leading into the trees.

He made his way onto a trail, pausing his steps. Eyes searching from one end of the forest trail to the other, he allowed his sensitive sense of smell to pick up her scent. His keen eyes paid close attention to any disturbance in the forest before him. Trampled vegetation. Disturbed soil. As these can leave behind unique scent profiles.

He was far away from his truck now, the smell of lemon peel, oak moss, and mint burned his nose. A metallic smell made his muscles tighten and his tongue tingle. He picked up into a run, trailing off the beaten path, away from what her usual route would be. As he ventured into the wilderness, the metallic–like scent grew stronger, enough to make him lose sight of his destination. His footsteps paused a few feet away from a man-made ditch, and as his eyes peered into it, there, he’d found his latest obsession.

She was unconscious, filthy, and bleeding from a laceration on her head. He frantically jumped down into the ditch and scooped her into his arms. His nose crinkled as the smell of blood seeped in. He pressed two fingers against her neck, faintly making out a pulse. She’s alive. Relief washed over him. Standing, he cradled her limp body in his arms. He hoisted her up and onto the ground carefully before hopping out of the deep darkness of the ditch.

He couldn’t leave her there, she needed to go to the hospital immediately. As he made his way over to her, he caught a whiff of something unfamiliar. Something unwelcome. His eyes searched around him, fists tightly clenched. The trees lashed and crashed against each other like drumsticks in the hands of a giant. It was eerily quiet. He could sense something watching. A painful groan from her captured his ears and he immediately focused all of his attention on her.

She stirred on the ground, face frowned and her eyes moving beneath her closed lids. Terry held his breath as he crouched down to look at her. He placed one hand beneath her head for protection, his eyes staring down into her beautiful face. When she opened them slightly, his lips parted to speak.

Her soft locs in his calloused hands he adored. Her tawny skin was a work of art with her arms covered in tattoos. Lips plump and soft. She’s a goddess. Pools of brown peered up at his face with difficulty. She furrowed her brows, trying to make out who this stranger was as the sun above made him less distinguishable. She parted her lips to utter a few words, but it required energy she didn’t currently possess.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now. I’m gonna take you to the ER.” He spoke softly as her consciousness began to fade again, “Just hang in there…I got you.”

Her head lulled as he picked her up. Quickly and carefully, he made his way back to his truck. Once there, he flung his back door open and placed her on her side with her head reclined on a wrinkled flannel shirt of his. He slammed the door shut and rushed to the driver’s seat. Truck rolled to life and he took off with a quick burst of speed so fast he almost collided with a tree.

The nearest emergency room wasn’t too far of a drive. What would have been twenty minutes on back roads took him ten minutes or less on the I–10. As he drove, weaving his way through traffic, he would look back to check on her, making sure she was okay and not bleeding out. As his truck screeched to a stop in the visitor parking lot of the emergency room at Ochsner Lafayette General Medical Center, He quickly left his car to grab her.

Bystanders watched as he carried her through the automatic doors. Medical staff rushed over, surprising him with how diligent they were with getting her to a room. His heart thumped as he watched them place her on a gurney and secure the safety rails. Sweat doused his body from head to toe. The adrenaline was running through his body. He could make out someone trying to speak to him, but his eyes were glued to her distant figure as she traveled down the EMS corridor and towards the resuscitation area.

“Excuse me, Sir?!”

A woman in teal green scrubs shouted for his attention from the reception area. He allowed his eyes to sweep over her and then the reality of where he was and what he needed to do hit him. He took long strides towards the desk, bracing himself there as he tried to calm his nerves.

“Can you tell us what happened? Who it is you brought in and what’s your name and relationship to the patient?”

Another woman with ceil–blue scrubs and a scrub jacket with little faces of children printed on it sat typing away at a registration computer.

“Uh, yes…I’m not sure what her name is. I…I found her…”

His eyes glanced around him warily.

“Found her where, sir?”

“Unconscious. In a ditch. She’d fallen in.”

The two women shared a glance with each other, one that told him they weren’t very trusting of him.

“Where was this?—”

“Moon Seed Loop.” He replied abruptly with a deep voice.

“The trail?”

“Yes,” he stroked a large hand down the front of his hair, “I don’t know her. I just saw her laying there and rushed to bring her in.”

The woman asking questions seemed to relax after those words but still kept an eye on him.

“Did you try performing CPR?”

“No. She’d woken up at some point before going back out.”

“Okay, and what’s your name to put on file?”

“Terry Richmond.”

“Contact? Unless you wish to stick around.”

“I’ll stick around.”

Terry peered into the waiting area, not too thrilled with sitting amongst a bunch of people. But he refused to leave without making sure she was okay.

“Alright. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you.”

Hands in his pockets, he made his way towards the waiting area filled with sick patients.

__________

Plain walls.

The beeping of a monitor.

Fluorescent lighting.

A whiteboard listing her information.

The name of the nurse taking care of her and the physician.

Metal side rails caging her in.

Stark white linens and pillows beneath her head while she lay in Fowler's position.

A hep–lock was placed in her arm and connected to an IV secured with tegaderm. She’s still wearing the GymShark pale blue set but it was covered in dirt stains. Her head pounded from an intense migraine as she tried turning her head.

The pulse–ox on her finger beeped as she moved. Suddenly her curtain had been pulled back and an older white woman with ginger hair and a freckled face appeared. She wore navy blue scrubs with a name badge that read Leslie.

“Hello, Miss. Douglas. I’m nurse Leslie. Glad to see you awake.”

Nurse Leslie sauntered over to check her vitals. Nivea touched the back of her head over a tender spot and felt staples.

“A pretty gnarly lac ya’ had there. Thank goodness the young man that brought ya’ in found ya’.”

Slightly disoriented, Nivea sat up completely in her hospital bed, “Young man?”

“Yes ma’am. Now, can you confirm some things with me, Miss Douglas? Dr. Laphaun would like for me to give you some Tylenol. Just tell me your name and date of birth please.”

She groaned In discomfort, “Nivea Douglas. March twenty first. Nineteen eighty two.”

“Thank you. Here’s your Tylenol and some water…”

Nivea accepted the medicine and washed it down with the water. Her mouth was so dry from dehydration.

“Fluids are nearly done.”

“Leslie,” Nivea placed her cup down and reclined back, “is the young man a detective?”

“I don’t think so. Doesn’t look it. Looks more like a handy man. Tall, muscles, pretty eyes…ring a bell?”

“No—where did he find me? I was out for my morning run and—”

It was cold. She felt her pulse accelerate as her sneaker–clad feet imprinted the dry grounds of Mount Seed Loop. The air thickened around her as she ran faster. Paramore kept her going as she mouthed the words Hayley Williams sang. As she crossed a bridge, an intense wind picked up, causing her to sway slightly. Nivea slowed to a stop, bracing herself along the bridge. Her dark brown eyes focused ahead, and there, staring her in the eyes, was a wolf. Its piercing amber eyes didn’t waver. Nivea took two steps back, and the wolf took two steps forward. A low growl sounded from its muzzle and all sense of animal awareness left her body and was replaced with a fight or flight response.

Nivea ran, leaving the trail and entering beyond the trees. It was behind her, darting between the trees after her to attack. She didn’t know where she was going or why she thought running into the forest was a good idea, but soon, the wolf stopped chasing her, possibly finding something else more interesting. Nivea tried to stop running, but she tripped over an uproot and fell into what appeared to be a perfectly concealed ditch. Nivea gasped, too startled to comprehend what was happening. Her head collided with a sharp stone and her world went black…

“Almost ready for discharge, Miss Douglas. Dr. Laphaun will be in again to check on you before we release you. I’m assuming the young man waiting is your ride home? If not, we can call you an Uber.”

Bemused, Nivea tried to recall if she could remember the man that saved her from an almost fatal accident. Visions of a figure looking down at her flashed across her eyes, and words she couldn’t discern before.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now…”

A man’s voice. A voice of resonant quality. Gruff and husky.

“Can I see this man?”

“Sure! I’ll go grab him for you…”

Nurse Leslie exited the room and Nivea watched her turn down a hall. The distant sound of voices and a ringing phone could be heard. Nivea didn’t know what to expect when that curtain opened. But whoever this man is, she’s forever grateful for his kindness.

A knock to the frame separating her room from the outside startled her.

“Miss. Douglas. It’s Dr. Laphaun. May I come in?”

“Yes,” Nivea sat up, “You can come in.”

The curtain opened to reveal a white male with a bald head and tired eyes. He approached her left side.

“Just doing one final check. Your vitals are stable. Let’s take a look at your head again…excellent. So, I see you’re a veterinarian! How exciting.”

“Yeah,” Nivea gave him a small smile, “Neurological exam good? MRI results?”

“All good. You’re a lucky woman. As I’m sure you know, rest is a crucial part of concussion recovery. Once your symptoms improve, a gradual return to normal activities is recommended. I suggest taking at least a week off from exercise. Maybe your practice as well to be sure.”

“I have a lot of appointments this week, Dr. Laphaun—”

“All that I’m sure can be postponed, Dr. Douglas. The dogs and cats would be grateful to have a competent provider taking care of them.”

“Okay,” Nivea replied with a sigh, “Tylenol, elevate the head, cold compresses if swelling occurs…anything worsens I’ll be back.”

“All the above.” Dr. Laphaun said.

Another knock brought Nivea’s attention to the curtain. A nervous tickle in her stomach.

“Looks like your knight in faded jeans arrived!” Dr. Laphaun jokes.

The curtain opened to reveal a man standing at 6’3 with a body mass index that took up most of the entryway. His eyes are indeed pretty. Hypnotizing. An array of colors that seemed to change whenever the light hit. Sculpted jawline, generous lips, tattoo–covered arms, skin a toasted brown from the intense sun of Louisiana. His black T-shirt stretched over what had to be a well–sculpted torso and the faded jeans Dr. Laphaun was referring to fitting his lower half snug in all the right places. He had a rugged look to him with dark, almost black hair that stood out boldly. Thick, dark lashes and brows with hair that Nivea could tell grew out of control if he didn’t keep it cut low.

Nurse Leslie worked to remove Nivea’s hep–lock. Dr. Laphaun made his exit after shaking the Adonis’s hand. Nurse Leslie informed Nivea where her things were and asked if she needed help out of bed and into a wheelchair.

“I’ll be back with a chair.”

Nurse Leslie left the two of them alone. Nivea locked eyes with the man who was staring back at her unblinking. She broke her eyes away as she tried to swing her legs over the edge. Immediately, the man was by her side, one hand on her back and the other reaching out for her hand.

“Woah, woah. Careful…”

Nivea cast him a wary glance.

“I’m Terry.” He finally introduced himself.

“Nivea.”

Silence stretched on as they locked eyes. Nivea didn’t know what came over her, but she leaped into his arms, circling his neck with her arms in a choking embrace. Terry quickly secured her waist with his hands so she wouldn’t fall. Nivea cried against his neck, the smell of his scent crowding her nose. It was earthy and warm.

“Thank you, Terry! You saved my life!”

Terry was rigid against her.

“Okay, oh!–I’m so sorry—”

Leslie turned beet red. Nivea moved away from Terry with a sheepish smile while rubbing tears from her eyes and snot from her nose.

“Giving Terry here a proper thank you for saving me.” Nivea giggled softly.

“What a lovely young man,” Leslie patted him on the back, “Think you’ll be okay to wheel her out to ya’ truck? If you want ya can pull up and I’ll take her out.”

“Good idea,” Terry patted his back pocket, retrieving his keys, “I’ll be out front.”

Leaping into action, he hurried out of the room. Nivea’s eyes never left his brawny back until he was out of sight. Leslie helped Nivea into the wheelchair and with all her things, they left the room and towards the emergency room exit. Terry’s pitch black dually truck sat high off of the ground. Leslie stuck around to make sure Nivea could be safely transferred.

Terry lifted her up into his arms and placed her on the seat. Leslie smiled before waving goodbye to Terry and Nivea, turning to enter the emergency room. Nivea kept an eye on Terry as he fastened her in. He shut her door and made his way around. Nivea did a quick sweep of his truck, finding it pristine and cozy. It smelled of Royal Pine. He entered the truck and started the ignition. Terry placed his cell phone on a magnetic phone mount, keying in his passcode and pulling up the GPS. Suddenly, he picked up his phone.

“Sorry,” he gave her an apologetic nod before placing his phone back on the mount, “Where to?”

Nivea elevated a brow at him in wonder.

“536 Sterling Grove, 70503.”

“Got it. Let’s get you home.” Terry said.

@theereinawrites @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations-19

I notice Earth suns tend to have a very bullying type of humor. Very harsh dry humor that’s borderline offensive is their style. Sometimes it’s hard to know if they’re joking or serious especially Capricorn’s 😭

Aries men are surprisingly not as hot headed as people would expect. It actually takes a lot before they really yell at you. Usually only if u insult something they’re passionate in. The women are a lot more hot headed & easily set off imo

Mercury Rx people usually struggle with speech or reading problems. I notice it can result in having a stutter or a lisp, dyslexia or just very bad social anxiety. In extreme cases I’ve seen selective mutism. I also notice they have a very intense relationship with books & reading, it’s either they absolutely love reading or it’s really challenging for them in some way. A lot started off in their earlier years finding reading challenging then ended up loving reading as they grew. It’s like a mental exercise for them.

Saturn RX people always make bad choices lol. They always choose the path that will lead to the most hardship just for the fun of it or the excitement (which it’s normally not fun for too long) they usually grew up having a hard time with authority. Could of had very authoritative parents that were too hard on them which caused them to rebel. In this lifetime they are here to learn the value of HARD-work because in past lives these people were usually really irresponsible & put fun and pleasure over building their futures. These people will face so much disappointment until they surrender their rebel lifestyle. Deep down they do want to mature & be better but many believe they aren’t good enough. Once they reach this maturity however their life will do a 360.

Venus in the 1st house people can act very unpleasant when they are getting ignored or the attention isn’t fully on them. They value people liking them & fitting in so when they feel like they aren’t vibing with anyone they go into this deep self pity downer attitude. Their self esteem and happiness is determined by how many people accept them.

Venus in the 3rd house people have relationships that look more like friendships. Their partnerships are more playful & light then deep and intense. They usually end up dating their best friend. Could lack in the physical realm however in some cases.

Venus in the 7th house people usually have a lot of crushes. Most of them however never turn into anything deeper. It’s surprisingly hard for these people to fall in love. They can also lead a lot of people on because of their multiple crushes. Not easy to keep these people attention.

Moon in Caps are really afraid of rejection. They will act they hate you even if they’re in love with you to avoid showing their vulnerable side. Their coldness can ruin a lot of relationships that they actually really wanted.

Mercury in Pisces people can never stay on topic while speaking 😂 they have this habit of going off topic then completing forgetting why they were even telling the story in the first place. They also disassociate like a mf. They can be staring dead in your eyes for hours and not hear a word you’re saying lol.

If you try to argue with a Mars in the 3rd house you will never win. These people are natural born lawyers. They come with all the receipts 👀

Cancer placements tend to have really round faces. Like the moon.

Pisces placements are really wise and really childish at the same time. They all have this naive childish aura around them where you assume they don’t understand much but then when you really get to know them they will talk to you like your listening to an Alan Watts lecture 😂

Mercury in the 12th house I believe is the most introverted mercury placement. Even with a more extroverted mercury sign there’s still this deep reserve to them. These are usually those kids in class that you never heard speak once then they finally speak u think “holy shit they do know how to talk” lol. I notice they choose to stay quiet because people ignore them anyways. Like people will ask them to be more open and talk more & when they actually try they are usually brushed off.. it’s really not fair, and they know this all too well.

Aquarius Venus 🤝 having their friends catch feelings for them

Uranus/Venus aspects are usually apart of the LGBTQ community.

[robertreich]

When the KKK Murdered My Childhood Friend 

When the Ku Klux Klan murdered my protector, it made me see the world differently.

I was always the shortest kid in school, which made me an easy target for bullies. To protect myself, I got into the habit of befriending older boys who’d watch my back.

One summer when I was around 8 years old I found Mickey, a kind and gentle teenager with a ready smile who made me feel safe.

Over the years, I lost track of Mickey. It wasn’t until the fall of 1964, my freshman year in college, that I heard what had happened to him.

Several months before, Mickey, whose full name was Michael Schwerner, had gone to Mississippi to register Black voters during what was known as “Freedom Summer.”

On June 21, Michael and two other civil rights workers, James Chaney and Andrew Goodman, were arrested near Philadelphia, Mississippi by Neshoba County Deputy Sheriff Cecil Ray Price, for allegedly speeding.

That night, after they paid their speeding ticket and left the jail, Deputy Price followed them, stopped them again, ordered them into his car, and took them down a deserted road where he turned them over to a group of his fellow Ku Klux Klan members. They were beaten, shot at point-blank range, and buried in an earthen dam. Their bodies weren’t found until August 4.

The state of Mississippi refused to bring charges against any of the Klan members. Eventually, the U.S. Justice Department brought federal charges against Price and 17 others.

An all-white jury found seven of the defendants guilty, including Price. Ultimately none would serve more than six years behind bars.

When the news reached me that Mickey, my childhood protector, had been murdered by white supremacists — by violent bullies who would stop at nothing to prevent Black people from exercising their right to vote — something snapped inside me.

I began to see everything differently.  Before then, I understood bullying as a few kids picking on me for being short. Now I saw bullying on a larger scale, all around me. In Black people bullied by whites. In workers bullied by bosses. In girls and women bullied by men. In the disabled or gay or poor or sick or immigrant bullied by employers, landlords, insurance companies, and politicians.

Sixty years after the Freedom Summer murders, America still wrestles with bullies — a rise in hate crimes targeting people of color, LGBTQ people, immigrants, Jews, and Muslims — new laws restricting the right to vote, banning books, and stripping Americans of reproductive freedoms — leaders who insult and demean people with disabilities, women, and trans kids.

We must never give in to cruelty and violence. It is incumbent on all of us to stand up to bullies and be each other’s protectors.