#she would be 78 today

[airaibunny]

BRATTY/DEGRADING/ETC SMUT PROMPTS

1. “i can’t keep going” - “aw, too bad. i don’t care”

2. “i dont care who’s outside”

3. “do you want them to hear you being such a slut?”

4. “what if i don’t?”

5. “i promise i’ll start being good, just please…”

6. “make me”

7. “that sounds like an excuse, i want a confession”

8. “you don’t get to tell me what to do”

9. “that’s strike 3”

10. “if you stop, i’ll stop”

11. “no more, please, i can’t”

12. “where are your manners?”

13. “i hear an acknowledgement, not an apology, do you want 3 more?”(the ‘it’ can be anything)

14. “what did you say?”

15. “try that again”

16. “no, you don’t get to touch”

17. “beg for it”

18. “i said no”

19. “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?”

20. “stop pushing, it won’t end well”

21. “you don’t need anything, you want it”

22. “say it”

23. “use your words”

24. “i can’t understand you”

25. “i can’t read your mind”

26. “could he/she do it better?”

27. “do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?”

28. “take it like a good girl and stop whining”

29. “that’s whining, i thought we talked about that”

30. “sluts don’t get to make requests”

31. “what happened? you wanted this so bad five minutes ago”

32. “stop talking”

33. “did i give you permission to talk?”

34. “you don’t understand how angry i am right now”

35. “be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

36. “why are you already squirming?”

37. “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

38. “come here, now”

39. “you can barely speak, so cute”

40. “i’m tired of you speaking, i need something in your mouth”

41. “if i have to stop this car, i’m going to make sure you can’t walk out of it without my help”

42. “you really don’t deserve this”

43. “i didn’t mean to, i’m sorry”

44. “don’t cum until i tell you to”

45. “what if i just leave you here, wet and needy?”

46. “what’s the safe word? you’re going to need it”

47. “what are you going to do? punish me?”

48. “i really don’t care that we’re in public”

49. “keep it up, you won’t like the situation you end up in”

50. “who do you think you are?”

51. “grab the handcuffs and come back here”

52. “no, you’re in trouble, you don’t get to demand”

53. “liar”

54. “stop teasing me”

55. “i like it when you’re mad”

56. “punish me”

57. “are you going to stop me?”

58. “shut up”

59. “no, you started this, now you’re going to finish it”

60. “clean my fingers, this is your mess”

61. “did you really think that would work? cute”

62. “bad girls/sluts don’t get to cum”

63. “can you tell me what you did wrong?”

64. “explain what you did, if you don’t finish before you cum, you don’t get to finish again for the rest of the night”

65. “you’re being particularly insufferable today”

66. “you’re such a fucking slut/whore/cunt”

67. “make me cry”

68. “ruin me”

69. “you’re not in a position to make demands”

70. “if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i won’t wait until we get to our bedroom”

71. “say that again, i dare you”

72. “i’m going easy on you, you should be getting the belt right now”

73. “what happened to my good girl?”

74. “what would the others think of this? their innocent little maknae being such a whore”

75. “you’ll cum as many times as i want, got it?”

76. “look what you did”

77. “i should edge you”

78. “stop moving, you’ll take what i give you”

79. “swallow"

80. "i'll untie you if you're good"

81. “i want to make a mess of you"

82. “you think your begging is going to change my mind?"

83. “i don't care that you're sorry"

84. “don’t argue with me”

85. “you royally fucked up”

86. “you heard me”

87. “don’t make me repeat myself”

88. “hurry up, if you take too long i won’t touch you”

[reasonsforhope]

Hazel Chandler was at home taking care of her son when she began flipping through a document that detailed how burning fossil fuels would soon jeopardize the planet.

She can’t quite remember who gave her the report — this was in 1969 — but the moment stands out to her vividly: After reading a list of extreme climate events that would materialize in the coming decades, she looked down at the baby she was nursing, filled with dread.

 “‘Oh my God, I’ve got to do something,’” she remembered thinking...

It was one of several such moments throughout Chandler’s life that propelled her into activist spaces — against the Vietnam War, for civil rights and women’s rights, and in support of environmental causes.

She participated in letter-writing campaigns and helped gather others to write to legislators about vital pieces of environmental legislation including the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act, passed in 1970 and 1972, respectively. At the child care center she worked at, she helped plan celebrations around the first Earth Day in 1970. 

Now at 78, after working in child care and health care for most of her life, she’s more engaged than ever. In 2015, she began volunteering with Elder Climate Action, which focuses on activating older people to fight for the environment. She then took a job as a consultant for the Union for Concerned Scientists, a nonprofit science advocacy organization. 

More recently, her activism has revolved around her role as the Arizona field coordinator of Moms Clean Air Force, a nonprofit environmental advocacy group. Chandler helps rally volunteers to take action on climate and environmental justice issues, recruiting residents to testify and meet with lawmakers. 

Pictured: Hazel Chandler tables at Environment Day at Wesley Bolin Plaza in front of the Arizona State Capitol in Phoenix, Arizona, in January 2024.

Her motivation now is the same as it was decades ago. 

“When I look my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren, my children, in the eye, I have to be able to say, ‘I did everything I could to protect you,’” Chandler said. “I have to be able to tell them that I’ve done everything possible within my ability to help move us forward.” 

Chandler is part of a largely unrecognized contingent of the climate movement in the United States: the climate grannies. 

The most prominent example perhaps, is the actor Jane Fonda. The octogenarian grandmother has been arrested during climate protests a number of times and has her own PAC that funds the campaigns of “climate champions” in local and state elections. 

Climate grannies come equipped with decades of activism experience and aim to pressure the government and corporations to curb fossil fuel emissions. As a result they, alongside women of every age group, are turning out in bigger numbers, both at protests and the polls. All of the climate grandmothers The 19th interviewed for this piece noted one unifying theme: concern for their grandchildren’s futures. 

According to research conducted by Dana R. Fisher, director for the Center of Environment, Community and Equity at American University, while the mainstream environmental movement has typically been dominated by men, women make up 61 percent of climate activists today.  The average age of climate activists was 52 with 24 percent being 69 and older...

A similar trend holds true at the ballot box, according to data collected by the Environmental Voter Project, a nonpartisan organization focused on turning out climate voters in elections. 

A report released by the Environmental Voter Project in December that looked at the patterns of registered voters in 18 different states found that after the Gen Z vote, people 65 and older represent the next largest climate voter group, with older women far exceeding older men in their propensity to list climate as their No. 1 reason for voting. The organization defines climate voters as those who are most likely to list climate change, the environment, or clean air and water as their top political priority.

“Grandmothers are now at the vanguard of today’s climate movement,” said Nathaniel Stinnett, founder of the Environmental Voter Project.

“Older people are three times as likely to list climate as a top priority than middle-aged people. On top of that, women in all age groups are more likely to care about climate than men,” he said. “So you put those two things together … and you can safely say that grandma is much more likely to be a climate voter than your middle-aged man.” 

In Arizona, where Chandler lives, older climate voters make up 231,000 registered voters in the state. The presidential election in the crucial swing state was decided by just 11,000 votes, Stinnett noted.

“Older climate voters can really throw their weight around in Arizona if they organize and if they make sure that everybody goes to the polls,” he said. 

Pictured: Hazel Chandler’s recent activism revolves around her role as the Arizona field coordinator of Moms Clean Air Force, a nonprofit environmental advocacy group.

In some cases, their identities as grandmothers have become an organizing force. 

In California, 1000 Grandmothers for Future Generations formed in 2016, after older women from the Bay Area traveled to be in solidarity with Indigenous grandmothers protesting the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline at the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation. 

“When they came back, they decided to form an organization that would continue to mobilize women on behalf of the climate justice movement,” said Nancy Hollander, a member of the group. 

1000 Grandmothers — in this case, the term encompasses all older women, not just the literal grandmothers — is rooted at the intersection of social justice and the climate crisis, supporting people of color and Indigenous-led causes in the Bay Area. The organization is divided into various working groups, each with a different focus: elections, bank divestments from fossil fuels, legislative work, nonviolent direct actions, among others...

“There are women in the nonviolent direct action part of the organization who really do feel that elder women — it’s their time to stand up and be counted and to get arrested,” Hollander said. “They consider it a historical responsibility and put themselves out there to protect the more vulnerable.” 

But 1000 Grandmothers credits another grandmother activist, Pennie Opal Plant, for helping train their members in nonviolent direct action and for inspiring them to take the lead of Indigenous women in the fight. 

Plant, 66 — an enrolled member of the Yaqui of Southern California tribe, and of undocumented Choctaw and Cherokee ancestry — has started various organizations over the years, including Idle No More SF Bay, which she co-founded with a group of Indigenous grandmothers in 2013, first in solidarity with a group formed by First Nations women in Canada to defend treaty rights and to protect the environment from exploitation. 

Pictured: Pennie Opal Plant has started various organizations over the years, including Idle No More SF Bay, which she founded in 2013 alongside Indigenous grandmothers.

In 2016, Plant gathered with others in front of Wells Fargo Corporate offices in San Francisco, blocking the road in protest of the Dakota Access Pipeline, when she realized the advantages she had as an older woman in the fight. 

As a police liaison — or a person who aims to defuse tension with law enforcement — she went to speak to an officer who was trying to interrupt the action. When she saw him maneuvering his car over a sidewalk, she stood in front of it, her gray hair flowing. “I opened my arms really wide and was like, are you going to run over a grandmother?”

A new idea was born: The Society of Fearless Grandmothers. Once an in-person training — it now mostly exists online as a Facebook page — it helped teach other grandmothers how to protect the youth at protests. 

For Plant, the role of grandmothers in the fight to protect the planet is about a simple Indigenous principle: ensuring the future for the next seven generations. 

“What we’re seeing is a shift starting with Indigenous women, that is lifting up the good things that mothers have to share, the good things that women that love children can share, that will help bring back balance in the world,” Plant said...

[Kathleen] Sullivan is one of approximately 70,000 people over the age of 60 who’ve joined Third Act, a group specifically formed to engage people 60 and older to mobilize for climate action across the country. 

“This is an act of moral responsibility. It’s an act of care. And It’s an act of reciprocity to the way in which we are cared for by the planet,” Sullivan said. “It’s an act of interconnection to your peers, because there can be great joy and great sense of solidarity with other people around this.”

-via The 19th, January 31, 2024

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I love the idea of Richie always making fun of how sweet carmy is to you but he litterally can't help it because he's so in love with you so he just blushes and tells Richie to fuck off

Lovesick puppy

He can't help it, poor guy. He just loves you and it just happens. Holding the door open for you. Always stopping to listen to what you have to say. Shrugging off his jacket to wrap it over your shoulders. Making your food even during rush hours. But then it's the way Carmen can't help but bring you into any and every conversation. "Oh, but Y/N said", and "Y/N.. we could just call her, she knows".

And Richie he clocked onto that so fast. And he's so happy that his cousin has finally found the one. He too knows that lovesick puppy look. He catches the way Carmen looks at you when you're not watching or when you speak. He's captivated as if all the world's miracles are now in front of him. As if there's nothing else around him but you.

But he's Richie so he has to... You know, a must to tease. It starts with him just pointing out every time Carmy is lost admiring you. He would come up to him, brushing a napkin onto Carmen's chin, "You're drooling, man", and Camren would snatch the napkin, flipping him off. Then it's the, "Oh, you won't say anything else? You won't mention Y/N?" when Carmen doesn't say your name in a conversation he is having with Richie or someone else. Checking Carmen's temperature when he doesn't lean to smile at his phone for longer than ten minutes, "Fuck off, Richie", Carmen growls.

But baby boy is just so in love he simply can't help it. Every part of him craves you. He feels the most himself when he's around you. So yeah, he is smiling as bright as the Christmas tree when you walk through the restaurant door later at night. And yes, he's dropping whatever he's been doing just so he could wrap you up in a hug and kiss your lips a couple of times. Enjoying the giddy, bubbly feeling in his stomach.

"Happy to report that he only mentioned you 78 times today, five times less than yesterday", Richie calls out already smirking. Carmy's grip on you tightens but you only laugh, "Dangit... Are you feeling out of love with me??", you cup Carmy's face, giggling. He shakes his head in disbelief. "I've missed you", Carmy whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You look up at him smiling, "Missed you two, bear".

"Use protection, kids, surprise conception is a real thing", Richie shouts. "Oh, fuck off, for real", Carmen barks back, only causing Richie to laugh harder. "Ignore him, he's not getting any", Carmen shakes his head but before you can answer Richie's voice booms through the place again, "Heard that and just to be clear. You're getting too much because you're as soft as a fucking buttercream frosting, cousin".

[imagionationstation]

Today on the Mikey Is Not Abused news

Research shows that 78% of the “Poor Mikey” fanclub claims that Mikey is incapable of standing up for himself, whether that be because he fears further abuse, fears his brothers in general, suffers from intense depression, an abuse sort of conditioning, or *insert other incredulous views here* (Statistics may not be entirely accurate and should be used with caution).

Unfortunately for them, Mikey does knows how to stand up for himself and it has been shown that he can speak his mind to even the main abuser, Raphael, and walk away unscathed.

Astonishing claim, I know, but the facts prove themselves.

Mikey has brought up beliefs on several occasions, but his lack of awareness outside his own mind often disproves his own claims.

Years of leprechauns, cream cheese demons, and certainty in cupcake uprisings have worn down his brothers’ trust in his word on many different subjects. This is not his brothers ignoring him out of spite. This is merely because he has proven himself to be an unreliable source when it comes to reality.

His lack of interest in taking most battles and training sessions seriously grate on his brothers’ nerves and often lead them to doubt his prowess and abilities on the field. Mikey being the youngest and earning all of their must protect with life instincts doesn’t exactly help his case. He knowingly brings much of their wrath upon himself- with tauntings, and purposefully infuriating acts, and the constant reappearance of Dr. Prankenstein.

When Mikey doesn’t go gun-hoe or call Raph out for a whack on the head, it’s probably because he’s conscious enough to know he likely said/did something stupid, or because he purposefully did something annoying.

However, if he sees an injustice affect another by his brothers’ hand, he will be the first one to stand up and correct it.

Mikey is proven to be more likely to speak his mind when it comes to others around him getting retribution that he deems underserved.

IN FACT, a few of the only times fans actually see an aggressive argument/challenge poised to a brother is to Raphael, often in regards to his crass judgement.

Take Fourfold Trap as an example:

“I got the answer for you! Karai’s a lost cause!”

“Don’t say that, dude!”

Mikey shoves at Raph’s shoulder to make him face him and they both begin yelling/bickering/roughly gesturing. Mikey is in no way scared of how Raph will react to this and is immediate in getting physically aggressive and speaking his mind.

Not normally how someone who’s been abused all their life would act towards the main abuser, I think. Not convincing enough?

Well, The Curse of Savanti Romero is another:

In it, Renet is seen admitting to her mistake of letting Romero loose. Raph responds by immediately coming down on her for it, even though she understands and regrets her mistake.

Mikey has zero hesitations about jumping into the picture.

“You really are the worst time traveler ever! The worst!”

“Back off, bro! She needs our help!”

Psychology of most abusers would not point to this kind of situation going well. If this were the case- in no universe would Raphael have relented under his brother’s glare and stepped away, especially not after being shoved and yelled at in front of someone outside the family. That would be seen as a calling for punishment.

Moving away would be letting the abused assert dominance and think that they’ve gotten away with a win.

If this were really an abusive relationship, then Raphael would have had a far more violent reaction to his youngest brother butting in.

Instead, he growled, glared, and then relented. He could tell this was not an issue that could be further challenged. Mikey was standing his ground, intensely meeting his glare, and so Raph stepped away.

Now, have there been times where Mikey felt like he was left out or being ignored and that made him feel insecure?

Yes. Absolutely. Mikey Gets Shellacne is a prime example.

But, have the abusers, his older brothers, been made to share similar feelings of being unable to rely on their brothers at one time or another? Perhaps due to his direct or indirect actions? Why, yes.

Because, as hard as it is to believe, every person in that family has made mistakes when dealing with another family member. Relationships are hard. Not one person, or mutant, is perfect, and facing or accepting insecurities is always a fact of growing up.

Is this to say Mikey never stands up for himself?

No. Not even close.

Is it ever portrayed as something big and dramatic as a focal point of an episode? No. Because it doesn’t need to be.

If Mikey holding onto resentment and depression from how his brother abuse him was meant to be part of his character, it would have been a plot point in the episode where they’re literally in his brain. There would have been the slightest hint of something going on somewhere in that chaotic realm.

Instead, Mikey’s brain welcomed all of his brother with open arms.

And the true, inner Mikey runs ecstatically toward his brothers and into Leo’s open arms for snuggles, no more scared of his brothers inside his mind than outside of it.

The only time that he has thoughts of “my brothers are so mean to me I should run away” is the episode The Croaking, where he takes accountability and has the realization that his brothers aren’t the jerks that he thought they were when he ran off…

“Dude. Your brothers sound awesome.”

“Yeah. They are… Even after I trashed the house.”

Mikey doesn’t often react violently to his brother’s teasing because there’s not a reason too. He understands that his brother’s pick on him, but in reality, he picks on them too. It’s not a big enough deal to point out unless an evil planet is letting Angry Mikey consume all of his thoughts and then everything is terrible.

Mikey can stand up for himself. Mikey will always stand up for others.

And that brings this article to an end. Subscribe for more!

Next time, we’ll discuss why Parasitica May or May Not have a worse reputation than it truly deserves. Cowbunga!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 10, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 11, 2024

Former president Trump has always approached debates as professional wrestling events in which the key is not to explain policies or answer questions, but rather to demonstrate dominance over your opponent. In 2016 the Democratic nominee, former secretary of state Hillary Clinton, had a hard time countering this strategy effectively because of the many expectations of what was appropriate behavior for a female presidential candidate. In 2020 and then again in the June 2024 “debate,” Democratic candidate Joe Biden’s stutter made it difficult to counter Trump’s scattershot attacks.

The question for Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris in tonight’s presidential debate was not how to answer policy questions, but how to counter Trump’s dominance displays while also appealing to the American people.  

She and her team figured it out, and today they played the former president brilliantly. He took the bait, and tonight he self-destructed. In a live debate, on national television. 

The Harris campaign began the day trolling Trump with a new campaign ad featuring the pieces of former president Barack Obama’s speech at the August Democratic National Convention that concerned Trump. “Here’s a 78-year-old billionaire”—the ad cuts to a photo of Trump in a golf cart—“who has not stopped whining about his problems.” Then a clip of Trump shows him complaining about Harris’s crowds, before Obama notes Trump’s “weird obsession with crowd sizes,” complete with Obama’s hand motion suggesting Trump’s sizes were small. “It just goes on, and on, and on,” Obama says, before the ad shows empty seats and people yawning at Trump’s rallies.

“America’s ready for a new chapter,” Obama says to the overflow crowd cheering at Chicago’s United Center during the Democratic National Convention. “We are ready for a President Kamala Harris!” At the end, even Harris’s standard statement, “I’m Kamala Harris and I approved this message,” sounds like a challenge.

This morning, the Harris campaign began running the ad on the Fox News Channel. 

At the same time, they began running Philadelphia-themed ads across the city on billboards, in the Philadelphia Inquirer, and on food trucks and taxi cabs, sidewalk art, and digital projections making fun of Trump’s fascination with crowd sizes. They showed, for example, a full-sized Philadelphia pretzel labeled “Harris” alongside a piece of one that looked like an upside down U labeled “Trump.”

The taunting might have been behind Trump’s demand for loyalty from Republican lawmakers this afternoon, telling them to shut down the government if he doesn’t get his way on the inclusion of a voter suppression measure in the bill to fund the government. The right has often relied on threats of government shutdowns to try to get their way, but such shutdowns are never popular, and even moderate Republicans are leery of launching one just before an election.

Nonetheless, Trump tried to lock them into such a shutdown, reiterating in a post this afternoon the lie that undocumented immigrants are voting in presidential elections. “If Republicans in the House, and Senate, don’t get absolute assurances on Election Security, THEY SHOULD, IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, GO FORWARD WITH A CONTINUING RESOLUTION ON THE BUDGET. THE DEMOCRATS ARE TRYING TO ‘STUFF’ VOTER REGISTRATIONS WITH ILLEGAL ALIENS. DON’T LET IT HAPPEN—CLOSE IT DOWN.” 

Throughout the day, the Harris campaign placed posts on social media showing Harris looking crisp and presidential and Trump looking old and unkempt. And then, for ten minutes in the hour before the debate, the Harris campaign held a drone show over the Philadelphia Museum of Art showing campaign slogans and then turning the words “MADAM VICE PRESIDENT” into “MADAM PRESIDENT.” 

Hugo Lowell of The Guardian reported today that Trump’s advisors were concerned ahead of the debate about whether they would get “happy Trump” or “angry Trump,” worrying that a frustrated Trump would engage in the vicious personal attacks that turn voters off. They expressed relief that having the microphones muted when it was not a candidate’s turn to speak would prevent Harris from irritating him with fact checks and snark of her own. Conservative lawyer George Conway noted that it was “[i]nteresting how one campaign is extremely concerned about the emotional stability of its candidate, and how the other is not.”

Harris’s attacks on Trump, including her campaign’s subtle digs at his masculinity, appeared to have accomplished what they set out to. When the two came out on stage, he went straight to his podium, while she strode across the stage, moved into his space, held out her hand, introduced herself and wished him well: “Kamala Harris. Have a good debate.” He muttered in response, “Nice to see you.” Then she took her own spot at the podium. When the debate opened, it was clear that Harris was the dominant figure and that her opponent was “angry Trump.” He would not look at her during the debate.

In her first answer, Harris tried to set out both her own story as a child of the middle class and how she intended to build an opportunity economy for others, lowering food and housing costs and opening the way for more small businesses. It was a lot, quickly, and she looked a little nervous.

Then Trump spoke and it was clear he was going off the rails. His first comment was to suggest Harris was lying, and then to insist that his proposed tariffs will solve everything, although he has the way tariffs work entirely backward: they are paid by the consumer, not by foreign countries. As he followed with a long list of his rally lies, Harris started to smile.  

From then on, he continued to produce rally stories full of wild exaggerations and attack Harris with lies in what CNN fact-checker Daniel Dale called “a staggeringly dishonest debate performance from former president Trump.” "No major presidential candidate before Donald Trump has ever lied with this kind of frequency,” Dale said. “A remarkably large chunk of what he said tonight was just not true. This wasn't little exaggerations, political spin. A lot of his false claims were untethered to reality." As Harris spoke directly to the American people, growing stronger and stronger, Trump got wilder and angrier and told more and more crazy stories. 

And then, about ten minutes into the debate, Harris baited him. She invited the American people to go to one of his rallies, where “he talks about fictional characters like Hannibal Lecter, he will talk about ‘windmills cause cancer.’ And what you will also notice is that people start leaving his rallies early out of exhaustion and boredom.” 

Trump lost it. He defended his rallies, said Harris couldn’t get anyone to attend hers and has to bus in attendees (in reality, her rallies are packed and he is the one who reportedly hires attendees), and then, in his fury, repeated the lie about immigrants eating pets. When a moderator fact-checked that story, he fought back, saying he heard it on television.

And from then on, Harris kept baiting him while explaining her own policies directly to the camera, and he took the bait every single time. He ran down every rabbit hole and appeared unable to finish a thought. Notably, he refused to say he would not sign a national abortion ban and admitted that after nine years of promising one, he had no health care plan (he has, he said, “concepts of a plan,” and if they pan out, he’ll let us know in the “not too distant future”). 

He threatened World War III and repeated that the U.S. is “a failing nation.” He told a long story about threatening “Abdul,” the leader of the Taliban; in fact, the leader of the Taliban since 2016 is Mullah Hibatullah Akhundzada. In response to Harris’s statement that foreign leaders thought he was a disgrace, Trump answered that Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán, who destroyed his country’s democracy and replaced it with a dictatorship, says he’s a good leader. New York Times columnist David French wrote: “It's like she's debating MAGA Twitter come to life.”

The debate moderators, David Muir and Linsey Davis of ABC, asked solid questions and corrected the most egregious of Trump’s lies. But as he continued to interrupt and yell at Harris, they increasingly gave him leeway to do so. This meant he spoke more often and for more time than Harris; MSNBC’s Stephanie Ruhle reported that he spoke 39 times for a total of 41.9 minutes, to her 23 times for a total of 37.1 minutes. But the extra time did him no favors.

By the end of the evening, Harris had delivered a clear message about her hopes to move the country forward beyond years of using race to divide people who have far more in common than they have differences. She promised to develop an economy that will build small businesses and support a growing middle class, while protecting rights, including the right to make reproductive decisions without the intrusion of the state. And she showed the nation that Trump can be baited, that he lies freely and incoherently, and—perhaps crucially—that he is no longer the dominant politician in America.  

Immediately after the debate, the Harris campaign continued their demonstration of dominance. Harris-Walz campaign chair Jen O’Malley Dillon released a statement recapping Harris’s strength and Trump’s angry incoherence. She concluded: “Vice President Harris is ready for a second debate. Is Donald Trump?”

Then things got even worse for Trump. 

Music phenomenon Taylor Swift endorsed Harris, telling her 283 million Instagram followers that she felt she had to because of Trump’s earlier reposting of an AI image of her seeming to endorse him. That, she said, “brought me to the conclusion that I need to be very transparent about my actual plans for this election as a voter. The simplest way to combat misinformation is with the truth. I will be casting my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz in the 2024 Presidential Election.”

After explaining why she was supporting Harris and Walz and urging her fans to do their own research, Swift signed off: “Taylor Swift, Childless Cat Lady.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[two-white-butterflies]

i love you in the morning | c16

Description: Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend.

Pairing: charles leclerc/driver!reader

poppy_7: focused 🍓

78 comments 10,839 likes

y/nfanbase: anyone annoyed that she gets less engagement just bcs she's a girl and somehow 'f1' fans think she's not good enough - bellaisloca: Me! She gets podium every race

charles_leclerc: ❤️

maxverstappen1: Prepare to eat my dust, - poppy_7: nah, not this time. - scuderiaferrari: we're counting on you @poppy_7

Being a female driver was one of the hardest jobs one could ever had - you once thought that training was the hardest part, but proving yourself to the audience? That was another.

"Are you ready for the race?" Charles asked while fixing the helmet on your head. "Yes," you answered with a smile.

You were wearing all of your lucky charms; bracelet that a fan gave you, lucky pants that you bought on your first day, and the red lipstick that your mother gave you before she died. "We'll do a great job, let's show Max that Ferrari is still great." you smiled, walking out of the garage. Charles responds with a chuckle - knowing that the strategist was going to screw the both of you over again.

"If the strategy begins to sound like shit, turn the radio off." you wink, entering the service car that would bring you to the start of the race. "I'm not sure that they'd like that," he hummed - following after you.

POPPY_7_TWT P2 in Spa! Forza Ferarri.

Susie_Wolff Had a video call with Y/N today. Super nice speaking to another woman in racing. Podcast in collaboration with Spotify is available! (-Toto Wolff)

poppyismommy: i just know that she's begging him to let her switch to mercedes 😭

charles_leclerc: Will be listening to the podcast! ❤️ - POPPY_7_TWT: thank u amor ! 🫶🏾

POPPY_7_TWT @charles_leclerc you wear the white, i wear the black.

charles_leclerc: just an inchident

poppy_7: we used to be best buddies :(

tagged: danielricciardo

98 comments 27,192 likes

danielricciardo: we were never 'best buddies' - poppy_7: 💀 @charles_leclerc he's bullying me - - danielricciardo: imagine calling backup

maxverstappen1: that's his fav pose - poppy_7: reminds him of himself

redbullracing: Come back...be here

charlesandynuniverse: after every race, she always changes her clothes. (she's everything, he's just ken.)

1298 comments 182,299 likes

[salem-witch-slut]

My Kryptonite

Kara Danvers x Masc! FemReader

SYNOPSIS: Kara wants to take things to the next level with you, but she is terrified to hurt you. Not to mention, you keep getting shot at!

WORD COUNT: 8.6K

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, stitches, blood/gunshot wounds, Kara being horny for you, fingering, eating pussy, misuse of superpowers, reader is described as muscular with lots of tattoos

Author's Note: A continuation for "This Is What I Know of Life". I have several in the works for this, I love these little fics (little my ass, each one is over 7K)

Dividers made by @cafekitsune

It had been three months since you met Kara in the bar where you used to work. Three months since you started dating Kara(Supergirl) and quit your job to join the DEO. In the club, you could only protect people inside of the area. But in here? You had more power than you ever thought possible.

You got to carry a gun at all times, and there was a gym at the agency where you got to work out to your heart’s content. Whenever Kara didn’t know where you were, she usually found you there doing whatever it was you decided to do that day. Sometimes you were practicing your hits, and other times it was just simple weightlifting.

It’s how Kara found you today. Normally you wear some loose t-shirt and sweatpants to work out at the DEO in your free time, but not today. There was a small problem with the air conditioning and the temperature was stuck at about 78 degrees Fahrenheit. And that meant you were in the least amount of clothing possible while still being considered modest.

“Hey, Alex was looking for…” Kara’s black heels paused on the steeled floors of the gym where she saw you hanging from a bar attached to a 360 machine. Her heart stopped… or did it speed up? Whatever it did, it made her face turn red!

Kara knew you were strong; you were ex-military for Rao’s sake, and she had seen you in your bra and boxers that one time when you first asked her to be your girlfriend. But there was something… something almost surreal about seeing you wearing a Nike sports bra of all things, and compression shorts that clung to you in an almost sinful way. Your skin was glistening in the lights overhead, and your dog tags hung loosely around your chest as you dropped to the floor and turned yourself around to face her. It took a lot of Kara’s willpower to not reach out and trace that V line in your abdomen that vanished under the waistband of your shorts.

“Hey,” You said, out of breath as you reached for the towel on the bench. Kara tried not to stare as she admired the way your muscles bulged when you lifted the towel up and wiped the back of your neck near your hairline. “Kara?”

“Huh?” The Kryptonian looked up from where she was staring at your defined abs and felt her entire face turn red with embarrassment. “Sorry, uh… yeah, Alex is looking for you and… I mean— obviously I said you would be here, but she still insisted that I come to tell you and I just—”

“Babe,” You stepped forward and pressed a hand against her shoulder. You felt so… so warm right now that Kara tried to not lean into your hand with all of her might, but you made it impossible. Very quickly, you bent down and captured her lips in a kiss that lasted for a few brief seconds, making Kara hungry for more. “Let me go get cleaned up and I’ll go find Alex, okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Kara stuttered, her thoughts traveling to very… not okay places. You were about to go shower. What did you look like under the spray of the water overhead? With soap sticking to your skin and rolling across every single soft curve and sharp edge of your body? Did you tilt your head back and lean into the water or did you simply stand right under the showerhead and let gravity do its job? And the more inappropriate questions that Kara would never ask.

Kara watched you go, hand closed around your duffel bag as you headed for the bathrooms, and she immediately began walking away. Her heart was racing, and she felt like one wrong step and she could fly away in an instant.

Of course, there was only one thing on your mind. If you had asked Kara to join you… would she have said yes?

The mission that you had been sent on was more eventful than you expected. You had been in an undercover situation as you tried to look not suspicious and walk around the crowded area, looking for the threat that the DEO was mentioning all afternoon. The only problem? Kara was too busy looking at your ass instead of focusing on the task at hand.

Kara had gotten so distracted with you, and how you looked with the rain coming down from the dimly lit sky that the sound of a gunshot brought her out of her senses. It wasn’t until she saw you on the ground that she finally sprang into action and attacked the perpetrator a lot harder than she had to. It was just a human, and his arm was now broken because of how hard she had hit him… but then she saw you laying on the ground with a hand on your side and she wished that she had hit him harder.

She brought you back to the DEO in her arms and you were laughing the whole way as she kept telling you to keep your hand on your side and apply the pressure.

“Babe, it just grazed me,” You rolled your eyes as she continued to carry your body towards the medbay. “I can walk there, you know—”

“Absolutely not,” Kara snapped, nearly lasering the panel on the door to get it open. Alex was the first one to help you down onto the table and she slowly began opening up your shirt. “Is she okay?”

“She’s gonna be fine, Kara,” Alex reassured her, looking at your wound and gently touching the bruising flesh around the bullet wound. It was just a graze, and you would need stitches, but it was an easy fix and you wouldn’t even need blood this time! “How’s this feel? Does it hurt?”

You laughed at feeling Alex’s fingers against your skin and looked up at her with amused eyes. “I got shot, Danvers… yeah, it hurts.”

The two of you laughed as Alex went to put a pair of gloves on and properly clean your wound. And for a moment, you saw Kara and how she was looking at you. Your eyes fell for a second and you attempted to reach out for her hand. “Baby, I’m sorry if I wasn’t being as serious as you wanted me to—”

“It’s fine,” Kara said coldly. She backed her hand away from your touch and you frowned. She’s never refused physical contact from you like that… What was wrong? Did you do something wrong, well other than getting shot? She seemed more upset than you wanted her to be over this. “Just be careful next time.”

And just like that, Kara was leaving the medbay, her red cape swishing as she walked away. An even deeper frown textured your face as Alex returned with a suture kit and began to get to work on your stitches. You flinched a little every time she made a new stitch, but you were sitting still for the most part.

“Alex,” You asked, looking up to try and meet your superior’s gaze. “Is Kara okay?”

“Why do you ask?” Alex finished up your stitches and placed a patch over your side to keep the wound clean.

You slowly sat up, stripping off the remains of your bloodstained shirt and pulling on a gray t-shirt. How do you phrase to your girlfriend’s sister that you were worried about how she was acting? She’s been funny all day since she found you in the gym this morning.

“She’s been a little off today,” You rub the back of your neck, already looking forward to heading home so you could finally lay down. “I don’t know, I figured if anybody would know, it’d be you, right?”

Alex removes the gloves stained in your blood and tosses them in the sanitary bin, aggressively washing her hands before she looked over her shoulder at you. “Why didn’t you wear the Kevlar?”

“Uh,” You thought it was obvious. “A bulletproof vest isn’t super under cover, you know—”

“Kara’s worried about you,” Alex states, running a damp hand through her dark auburn hair to move it out of her face and she approaches your bedside. You frown as the agent sits next to you and carefully grabs your hand in hers. “I’m worried about you. I get that you’re ready to prove yourself to J’onn, but you have to remember that you’re not an alien, and you’re not bulletproof.”

“I’m not trying to—” But then it hit you… Wasn’t that exactly what you were doing? Signing up for missions left and right, going out at every possible chance to show the DEO that you aren’t just some stray off the street and you belong here with everybody else? Fighting side by side with a literal alien that actually is bulletproof?

It was making more sense now; you actually were trying too hard. And in doing so, you were going to get yourself killed somehow, and Kara would be… who knows how the Kryptonian would act if you died on the job somehow.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” You stood up from the bed, letting out a sigh and rubbing up and down the back of your neck, almost like you were trying to soothe your headache away somehow. “I’ll try to calm down… Maybe I’ll do some in-house stuff instead of jumping at the field work?”

“I think Kara would really appreciate that,” Alex smiled as you headed out of the medbay to go get your stuff from your locker. You ejected the magazine from your pistol and checked that everything was okay before putting the safety on and tucking it into the holster that you strapped to your side.

As you were pulling on your coat jacket and you headed for the exit, you caught a glimpse of a red cape near the analyst lab and decided that talking with your girlfriend was way more important than heading home and wasting your night away.

Your boots hit the ground hard as you turned a corner, just trying to catch up to Kara who moved at inhuman speed (pun intended). “Hey Kara! Babe, wait up!”

The blonde stopped in her tracks, whipping around at high speed and you immediately stumbled on your feet to try and not fall into her. And yet, gravity had other options. Your left toes smacked against the back of your right heel, and you stumbled forward, hands slamming against the lab door as Kara stumbled backward and into the glass pane, taken by surprise at your movements.

You huffed, cheeks turning a soft pink as you looked down at Kara and watched her face tint a soft red just like yours. Her chest was rising and falling hard, almost painfully quick as you could feel the heat of her body through her supersuit. That cute red and blue outfit you loved so much with the House of El crest on her chest, the short skirt and the sheer black tights to somewhat cover up her pale legs.

Oh, why was she so beautiful? Her eyes were so blue, and you adored that strawberry flavored pink lip-gloss she wore all of the time that you loved to lick off of her lips whenever you got the chance… She’s so gorgeous and so perfect and—You were just staring at her! Oh, maybe she was uncomfortable now!

“Shit, sorry,” You stepped back, only to feel her hands had curled into the sides of your jacket and you stumbled forward, arm going over her head to stop yourself from hitting her body. Kara was quiet, and the only sound she was making was the sound of her breathing. “Kara...?”

You wish you knew what was going on in her head. What was she thinking? What was happening behind her eyes that you couldn’t seem to comprehend?

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat did you finally take a step away from her, face turning even redder than before as a lab analyst stepped around the two of you and into the room.

“I should probably head home,” Kara cleared her throat, chewing on her bottom lip with a nervous smile on her face. “I’ll uh… see you tomorrow?”

Before you could even kiss her goodbye, she was gone out of your sight. A frown was on your face instantly at the loss of contact and the miniscule words exchanged with her. Why was she pulling away like this? Have you done something wrong? Well, you did get shot but was that why she was being so cold with you?

So many questions raced around in your mind as you packed up your stuff and headed home for the night.

You could hear your cat meowing like crazy before you even opened the door. As soon as it was open, the orange tabby jumped onto the table near the entrance and started pawing at your arm, making you smile as you put your stuff down and lifted him up into your arms. “There’s my baby, did you break anything today?”

Tigger pawed at your face and began wiggling in your arms, a signal that he did not want to be held right now. You complied and put him down on the floor before heading to the kitchen to prepare his food for the night. You were basically moving on auto pilot as you mixed up the wet food with the dry, put it on the floor by his food area, and headed to the bathroom to get ready to relax for the rest of the night.

Wash face, comb hair, change clothes, put on slides, it was all so mundane and routine for you. Even grabbing the glass out of the cabinet and grabbing the bottle of alcohol in the liquor cabinet. You poured a heavy glass of whiskey, lifting the glass up and looking down at the dark amber liquid. You needed this, badly.

“Kara, why can’t I figure you out?” You muttered, seconds away from lifting the glass to your lips when it completely shattered in your hands. A look of complete shock went across your face as you looked down, the liquid coating your countertop and the glass in pieces all over the marble surface.

Tigger hissed and looked over at the window that was now fractured with a bullet hole straight through the glass. Almost immediately, your heart rate sky-rocketed as you dropped down and hid behind the couch, mere seconds before your entire apartment was riddled with gunfire.

Unfortunately, you were more focused on not getting shot and saw your cat tearing off towards your bedroom to avoid the bullet storm coming in the direction of your apartment. What the hell was happening?! Why were you being shot at?!

The momentary reprieve of fear was beginning to vanish and now you were just pissed off as your hands slid under the countertop underneath you and you grabbed the mounted pistol on the bottom of the surface, pressing your back against the couch and waiting for a second. They were using AR-15s and you waited until they were reloading to fire back. You had about 2 seconds before they reloaded the guns, and you counted in your head before you jumped up and began firing back at the assailants on the other roof of the building across from you.

So busy with taking out your attackers with assault rifles… you had forgotten about the sniper that had initially shot through the window. In seconds you were going from pissed off, to full on pain as the sniper fired a round and hit you directly in your left bicep, knocking you against the counter and back onto the ground.

Well, you were pinned down with no safe way out now… what the fuck can you do?

“Goddammit!” You had to get out of your apartment, but how? How would you get out without getting taken out by the sniper? And the couch will only hold up for so long before it begins to break, and the bullets actually start hitting you. And you had to get your fucking cat before he was shot to death too! Poor Tigger, he must be terrified…

You thought of easy exits, but none of them would be applicable without running to the bedroom first and finding your cat. And you weren’t just gonna leave him here to be riddled with gunfire… So busy thinking of a way out that you almost didn’t notice the gunfire had stopped… Completely stopped.

Your heart was racing as you looked over the side of the couch for a second, and you caught a glimpse of a red cape. No fucking way… Of course, of course she came to save your sorry ass! Kara was a wonder and you owed your fucking life to her, so many times over.

Very slowly, you dropped down to the floor and pressed your hand into your bleeding arm, the red quickly oozing from the bullet wound as you huffed and steadied your breathing. This was one of the worst nights ever…

The sound of heels hitting the hardwood floor on the other side of the couch made you relax as Kara jumped over the remains of your sofa and got down on her knees in front of you.

You smiled weakly. “Hey, Supergirl…”

“Your arm—” Kara immediately began fussing, grabbing at your shoulder and looking down at the wound and feeling her blood boil with rage. The one time she isn’t around, and you almost get killed! Why did danger always find you when she wasn’t looking? Why were you always getting hurt? Why couldn’t she fucking protect you!?

“Baby, I’m okay,” You reassured her, resisting the urge to touch her and smear blood on her super suit. Kara shook her head and before you could react, she was picking you up and lifting you back into her arms like she had done earlier that night. “Wait, wait, Tigger’s in my bedroom! He’s scared and—”

“I’ll come back for him, we need to get you somewhere safe now,” Kara reassured you as she took you through the shattered window and off into the sky. You kept constant pressure on the bullet wound, closing your eyes and trying not to look down. You’ve never been too good with flying, especially when not in an actual plane…

You knew Kara wouldn’t drop you or anything, but it was still terrifying. But before you knew it, Kara was setting you down on the ground inside of an apartment before she kissed your cheek and bolted back off into the sky, most likely to retrieve your pet.

It didn’t take a scientist to realize that this was Kara’s apartment. It was very aesthetically pleasing, and everything had a designated place to be in. Not to mention the framed photos of her and Alex on the coffee table.

In almost a blink of an eye, Kara was coming back with the orange tabby in her arms. She carefully put the cat on her floor and Tigger immediately began freaking out and tried to crawl under her couch. When he saw that he was too fat for it, he ran to her bedroom and hid under her bed.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” You questioned, pulling off your sleep shirt and grimacing at the bullet hole in your arm. Kara frowned before she grabbed the extensive first aid kit under her kitchen cabinet… why she had it, you’ll never know. Kara doesn’t get hurt.

Kara pulled out a pair of long tweezers and put her hand against your shoulder as she looked extremely hard at your arm. She was using her x-ray vision to see the bullet lodged inside your arm… Considering it was the only thing that was lead in your body, it wasn’t hard to see.

“I could hear your heartbeat,” She said softly, looking up at you as you grabbed the tourniquet from the kit and wrapped it around your arm. You pulled it tight, holding it with a steady hand as Kara reached in with the tweezers and used her expert alien precision to extract the bullet from your muscle and drop the lead onto the table. You felt tears track your face as she immediately began to apply pressure to your wound, and you let out a heartbreaking cry of pain.

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, looking up at your eyes and seeing your other hand shaking as you held the tourniquet strap. Your blood stained her hands and her super suit as she kept pressure on the wound, still whispering apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“S’okay baby,” You reassured her, smiling weakly as tears covered your face. When the blood finally stopped, Kara quickly wrapped up your arm and pressed the gentlest kiss against the white bandages, looking up at you and watching as you released the tourniquet and almost fainted as the pain began to overtake you. “Fuck… Christ, I got blood all over your apartment, I’m sorry—”

“No, no, don’t apologize please,” Kara begged, grabbing your face with both hands and smearing the warm red blood on your skin. “You’re safe. You’re here, and you're alive and that’s all that matters… I’m just sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

“You have done nothing but save my ass since we met,” You chuckled, leaning down and pressing the softest kiss against her lips. Kara let out a whimper before she wrapped her arms around your neck and basked in the sweetness of your kiss. You muttered against her lips. “My guardian angel…”

Kara was always looking for new ways to display her strength as she lifted you up off the table and carried you in the direction of her bathroom. Very gently, she set you down on the side of the tub before she was running a wash rag under warm water.

“So, uh… who were those guys that shot up my place?” You tried to show that you were unbothered by what happened, but it was clear that Kara was focused on what happened. Her hands were seconds away from ripping up the towel as she got down in front of you on her knees and began wiping the blood off your arm. You tried not to flinch as she cleaned off your skin, but she noticed it. Her eyes fell and she began to move slower and gentler, her fingers twitching and her hand shaking as she did so.

“You uhm… You remember that guy I went on a date with when we first met?” Kara bit her lip, avoiding your gaze. Almost like she was ashamed of the answer. “Turns out he’s running this… anti-alien gang in the underground. He’s targeting alien sympathizers.”

You chuckled. “Something tells me that this one was personal.”

“Yeah,” Was all Kara said in response as she finished cleaning off the blood from your large muscular arm, quickly cleaning your face and tossing the rag in the sink, then looking down at the patch on your side. You frowned at her dismissive attitude, reaching down and gently taking her chin between your fingertips.

“Kara,” You breathed softly. The Kryptonian shivered, never getting used to how softly you said her name. “Something is bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” Kara stood up from the floor and washed her hands under the faucet. It was clear she was in her head about something and the way she was shrugging it off was not sitting well with you. Kara left the bathroom and you followed behind her, carefully stripping off your sleep pants that had blood splatters all over them. You folded them up and placed them on the bathroom floor as you raced after her.

“No, it’s not nothing,” You stated, nearly slipping in the hall as Kara pressed her hands on her hips and began walking around in that signature superhero pose that she always did. Only this time, she looked more distraught than regal. Her cape swung behind her all pretty like and the way her hair went down in golden waves never failed to make your heart race. “Baby, you have to talk to me, please.”

“No, I don’t,” Kara said defensively. She began to pull off her super suit, removing her cape and laying it down on her bed before she unzipped the back. You tried to focus, but watching her literally strip in front of you was doing things to you… “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can you say something that’s bothering you isn’t important?” You frowned, stepping closer to her and wrapping your arms around your bare abdomen as Kara pushed the suit down her body. You inhaled, trying your best not to look at the way her tights looked against her rear and how you could see the clear outline of her panties through the sheer material.

Kara stayed silent as she pushed the tights down her legs, now standing in her bra and underwear as she sat down on the bed and began unzipping her boots. Your entire face was a deep red as you tried to calm your beating heart but knew there wasn’t really a point. She could hear your fucking heartbeat. Instead, you chose to look away.

“I’m not going to be upset if you…” You rubbed your nose, looking at the wall. “If you tell me the truth on how you’re feeling, Kara. I just want you to know that you can be honest with me… I care about how you’re feeling—”

You couldn’t even blink before Kara was jumping off the bed and wrapping her arms around your neck, slamming her lips against yours and curling her hand into the front of your sports bra. Your entire body went stiff as you were taken aback by her response but quickly melted into her like she was everything you needed to stay alive.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before Kara fell backwards on the bed on top of her cape, pulling you down on top of her and making sure the kiss wasn’t broken for even a second. You reached up and slid a hand into her long, beautiful blonde hair and felt your heart going absolutely insane inside of your chest.

But you needed answers. You broke the kiss and huffed, brows pulling down in confusion as Kara gave you a look of disdain and reached for your face, her fingertips brushing softly against your cheeks and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders. She was trying to distract you.

“Baby, baby, stop for a second—” You gently slid your hand from her waist to her wrist and pulled her right hand away from your face. She looked upset. “I need you… to be honest with me. Right now.”

A moment passed between you two where Kara looked away from your face and frowned, a single tear leaving her eyes as she avoided your gaze. You frowned and brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “I’m scared, okay?”

“Scared of what?”

Kara pressed her lips together and she laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing ever. “I’m an alien… I can stop cars with my bare hands, I can break bones without even trying… I hurt people; I’m dangerous! I’m scared of hurting you…”

You pressed the softest kiss to her face and tried to stifle her sobs that she couldn’t hold in anymore. You kissed all over her face, trying to calm her down. “No, Kara… baby, please just listen to me… I’m not fragile; I was in the army! Yes, I keep getting shot at, but that’s different… You would never hurt me—”

“How do you know?” Kara demanded, trying to rationalize her thought process.

You let out a soft breath and pressed a kiss against her face, and then slowly trailed your lips down her neck. She was still so warm against your cool skin, and it always made her shiver when you grabbed at her body. You could get lost in her warmth if she allowed you to.

“Because I know you, sweetheart…” You started gently, almost like the wrong word would scare her away forever and you’d never see her again. Your hands shook with slight anxiety as you pressed your palms into her sides, pulling her as close as possible and feeling her hot skin against your own. “And I know you wouldn’t hurt me. But if you’re really scared… let me take the lead with this.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” Kara stuttered at feeling your teeth gently graze her neck and you all but purred in response to her soft little whimper.

“Here, let me show you,” You gripped her waist and lifted her off the bed, making her gasp as you readjusted the way she was laying. Very carefully, you moved her cape down onto the side table and rested her head on the pillows, looking down and almost drooling over her.

Your hesitation made the super feel insecure. Kara bit down on her lip and her instincts screamed to cover herself, her heart pounding as she brought both arms over her chest and avoided your eyes. Almost immediately, you grabbed at her arms and tried to coax her into moving them away.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart,” You cooed sweetly, trying to calm Kara down to the best of your abilities. Your arm was screaming, begging for you to relieve some of the pressure so you didn’t reopen the wound, but you were determined. Not the first time you’ve been shot so you can handle it, better than anyone else could. “I’m gonna take care of you… Just breathe, yeah?”

The blonde nodded and let out a breath. Her superpowers began to shine through and you saw the ice crystals dance in the air and you smiled, leaning back down and reaching her lips for a gentle kiss. Every new one felt better than the last and Kara simply lost herself in what she knew was your sweet, and gentle presence. Never a day to go by where she didn’t welcome the place you took in her heart. 

Your heart raced as Kara reached for the hooks on her bra. You carefully slid both hands from her sides up along her bare skin, pushing them under her and finding what she was reaching for. Almost like you were born to do it, your fingers unhooked the metal clasps flawlessly and you pushed the straps of the fabric down her arms and then removed it all together. 

This was the first time you were really seeing Kara, without any clothes whatsoever. She could no doubt hear your heartbeat get faster and faster, and your body heat was rising with every passing second. You ignored the throbbing in your shoulder and the ache in your sides, focusing all your attention on the flawless Kryptonian in front of you.

“Oh my God, Kara,” You whispered like you were out of breath, eyes darting all over her pristine skin. Your fingers twitched, and you bit down on your lip so hard that you almost ended up drawing blood. Very slowly, your hands slid across her waist, sending shivers across her nerves and making the blonde whimper underneath you. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-You have been touching me,” Kara breathed, her voice shaky with a laugh that seemed almost forced. You gave her a look, one that she was very familiar with when she was joking and you were not having it. Of course, it was in a playful manner because this wasn’t something that should be super serious. “Please… please touch me.”

You reacted to her like she was a spell and you were being drawn in. Your body fell down and you pressed kisses across the blonde’s sternum, making Kara inhale sharply and arch her back off the mattress. Instead of touching with your hands, your tongue trailed across her hot skin and you pressed soft kisses and licks to the underside of her breasts, taking your time and basking in every single sweet sound she made.

It wasn’t until you felt her hands in your hair that you began to dive deeper, one hand squeezing at the soft mound of flesh on the left, while the right was drenched in kisses. You made eye contact, gazing into those beautiful blue irises before latching your lips onto her right nipple, your teeth slightly grazing her flesh and making her gasp. 

“Ahh,” Kara released a breathy moan that made your toes curl with delight. You wanted more of those sounds. Your lips moved a bit harder and you pinched her left bud with your fingertips, pulling lightly and looking up to see her eyes fluttering as they rolled back in her head. 

The superhero whimpered out your name. It was soft, gentle, but screamed inside your brain and it just spurred you on in your hunger for her. Your lips continued to venture down, licking a stripe between her ribs and across her abdomen before you curled your fingers into the fabric of her panties and looked up. “May I?”

Kara laughed again, in that breathless way that made you dizzy. “Unbelievable… you have me in my bed, almost naked, and you are still asking for permission?” Her laughter rang throughout the apartment and you kissed over her belly, resting your chin on the soft skin and rubbing your thumbs under the elastic of her underwear.

“What can I say? Manners to a fault, darling,” You cooed sweetly and Kara could only stare in pure wonder as you grabbed at the fabric of her panties with your teeth and, without using your hands, pulled them down her legs and tossed them over your shoulder. 

The Kryptonian kept her legs together, shaking like a leaf in the fall wind as you slid your hands across her inner thighs and kissing at her bare knees. “Don’t be shy, Supergirl…” The blonde slowly opened her legs. “That’s it, good… Just like that…”

Kara reacted out of instinct and covered her face with both hands, hiding the only way she felt she could. You were staring her down, almost breathless as you stroked your hands across her inner thighs and seeing her legs tremble. It was one of the most vulnerable states you have ever seen her in. “Oh, Kara… You are so beautiful…”

“W-Why do you sound s-surprised?” Kara stuttered, removing her hands from her face and leaning up on her elbows to look down at you. A chuckle left your throat as you slowly crawled up the length of the bed and reached behind her head. 

Kara watched as you carefully pulled her forward and stacked two more of the pillows on her bed behind her to keep the blonde sitting upright. “Well, you are an alien, babe… I mean, shit, I half-expected tentacles–”

“Are you kidding me?” Kara started laughing, her breath tickling your face as she felt her face go pink under your gaze. You laughed with her, pushing her blonde bangs away from her blue eyes and loving every passing second with her. “I can assure you, I do not have tentacles.”

“Oh, I know now… You have something I’m pretty familiar with,” You cooed sweetly, leaning down a little more and pressing a kiss to Kara’s neck as your right palm caressed her taut abdomen and between her legs. “And something I will enjoy… devouring to my deepest desires.”

“Ahhh, Rao yes…” Kara cursed, her fingers curling into the pillows as her eyes rolled back in her head. You watched with pure fascination and love at her beautiful reactions, seeing her chest rise and fall with each deep breath as your fingers gently stroked between her slick, beautiful folds. 

She was so warm, so soft, and so… so everything you were addicted to. You were gentle, and you didn’t pay too much attention to a particular area on her cunt, exploring what she liked and what made her tremble and turn to putty in your hands. You pushed her legs apart a little more and looked down, watching how her body reacted. 

“Wow,” You smirked. “Someone’s excited, huh?”

“Y-You’re mean,” Kara whined, hips jerking upward whenever your fingertips brushed over her clit, begging for you to touch right there. “T-T-Teasing me like th-this…”

“Oh,” Your other hand reached for her chin, slowly turning her head so she could look directly in your eyes. You bit your lip and watched her eyes dilate before focusing your fingertips against that bundle of nerves that felt so human against your hands. “This what you want?” 

For the smallest second, you saw her eyes glow with heat vision before she blinked it away, forcing herself to calm down and relax. If she wasn’t careful, she would shoot lasers right through the ceiling. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, Rao yes,” You loved it when she used her God’s name in vain. It proved she wasn’t as pure and innocent as people made her out to be. You rubbed at her in tight circles, watching her muscles tighten and her back arch off the mattress underneath her. “Feels so good!” 

You were basking in her sweet words, enjoying the way Kara said your name, and followed it up with a soft curse word that swiftly rolled off her tongue. You were focused, watching and enjoying her wiggling on her bed before your fingers left her clit and began to dive down deeper. Kara felt your pause and looked up at you, eyes wide and toes curling against the covers around her feet. “Wh-Why did you–”

A soft grin spread on your face and before Kara could question you further, you slipped two fingers past her warm walls and inside of her tightness. The Kryptonian let out an embarrassingly loud cry of surprise melted with pleasure and her right hand went from under the pillows where she was containing her strength, to grab at your wrist and squeeze. 

You instinctively flinched and stilled your movements. “Too much? Could just say so…” 

“W-wait, wait,” Kara panted, her inner muscles contracting around your fingers and making you shiver at just how strong every single inch of her was. “B-Before you… keep going, we need a… a, uhm… uhh–”

“A safe word, baby?” You said, leaning down and kissing at her cheek, nuzzling against her skin and admiring how you managed to make her shiver every time. “I have something you will be able to remember… If I go too far, I want you to say ‘Kryptonite’. Think you can remember that, baby?” 

Your fingers gently pressed against all her inside walls and Kara yelped, releasing your wrist and grabbing at the sheets under her body. “Y-Yes! Yes, I can remember th-that. Now pleaaaase keep going, please?” 

The poor blonde looked close to tears and you decided she had enough torture. Very carefully, you set a soft and gentle pace, observing Supergirl like she was a test subject in a lab. Your eyes trailed across her facial features, how the crease in her brows would crinkle slightly, how her nostrils flared and the way her chest moved with each harsh breath in her lungs. 

You had never seen Kara get winded before, never seen her truly tired. But in this moment, you could see sweat forming on her brow and dripping down her face. Kara was using so much of her strength to hold back… It was beautiful, but you couldn't help the guilt you felt. 

But it didn't look like Kara had that thought process. The superhero was willingly submitting to you, which is something she's never done with anybody. Even with the miniscule information you learned about her past partner, she never seemed like the girl to submit like this… To willingly offer up control to you felt like the most intimate offering she could ever give you.

You were drawn into her like she was a livewire and you couldn’t let go. Your fingers stretched her out, relaxing her muscles from the inside and leaning down to wrap your lips back around her nipple and licking at her sensitive flesh. 

Kara snapped again, her hands releasing the sheets from her grasp and curling her fingers in your hair as she voiced her pleasure out loud. You didn’t flinch this time, so entranced with her sounds and the way she showed her desperation for more. Your tongue trailed over her hot skin, and down across her sternum, going lower and lower until you were laying down between her legs, watching up close and almost drooling at the sight.

“Hear that, baby?” You pressed your hand against her lower belly and without warning, sped up your finger motions and listened to the squelching sounds her pussy made against your fingers. Kara cried out, her spine arching and her inner walls clenching down. “Such a messy girl, aren’t you? God, so sexy…”

Kara was drinking your praise up like it was water. It felt like she was feeding on you as she writhed and squirmed on the bedsheets, looking down and watching your eyes glimmer with something that she could only define as mischief. 

Before she could ask what you were thinking… The Kryptonian let out a loud shout of pleasure and her entire body jolted towards your awaiting mouth. Kara swore she saw stars behind her eyes as your tongue met her clit and you gave it a soft, experimental lick while curling your fingers upward and pressing them against what you knew was a sweet spot. 

“Fuuuuuck,” You stared in wonder as your tongue began working faster, drooling on her pussy and fucking down into her as deep as her muscles would allow. You had never heard Kara swear like that before, and now that you had? You wanted more. It was like you were deriving pleasure from this too, just like she was. “Fuck, fuck, shit, th-that feels so fucking good!”

In your pussy-drunk state, you had this sinking suspicion that Kara Danvers has never been eaten out before. How dare someone strip this woman bare, spread her beautiful legs, and not wish to feast upon her like she isn’t the most delectable thing in the entire galaxy?! 

Your efforts doubled, wrapping your lips around her clit and experimentally sucking on the bud. Kara cried out, sitting up a little further and looking down to gaze into your eyes. Her own were glowing, and for a minute, you thought of stopping but decided against it. 

Is that what Kara did when she was about to cum? Did her super powers start to act up? Her fingers dug into the bedsheets and you heard an audible tearing sound. Her breath came out cold, panting like a dog in the sun as she rolled her hips against your skilled mouth. She was practically fucking herself down on your fingers and you carefully slipped in another one, making her shamelessly call out your name. 

“D-Don’t stop,” Kara begged, her teeth clenching as she lifted her hips upward and began grinding on your tongue. You persisted, your mouth keeping pace and moving your fingers faster as your other hand gripped her hip and held her as still as her super strength would allow. You twisted your tongue at just the right angle, and your fingers hit the right spot inside of her, and Kara was screaming. “Don’t stop! Oh Rao, right there! Please, please don’t st–” 

Her voice cut off with a deep cry of euphoria as she fell backward on her mattress and you could feel her inner walls contracting around your fingers. The glow in her eyes got brighter and before you could realize what was happening, her heat vision activated and did exactly what you thought she would do, which was burn a hole through her ceiling. 

You didn’t care. You kept fucking her through her orgasm, drooling on her cunt and hissing at her left hand going to your back and digging her nails into your flesh. She made cuts, but you endured, loving how she marked you in her own special way.

Kara’s cries of bliss faded to soft whimpers as you slowed your movements, lifting up off the bed and grinning. Her face went pink at the wetness dripping from your chin and all you did was lick your lips and wipe your mouth against your uninjured bicep. 

The blonde whined as you removed your fingers from inside of her and sobbed at seeing you bring them up and lick them clean. “Fuck, you taste like cosmic bliss, babygirl.” 

You didn’t get to flatter her anymore before Kara was yanking you down and pressing kisses all over your face and on your lips. She didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself as she pulled back to breathe and wiped at your nose with her hand. “Are you okay?” 

You laughed, tossing your head back for a second. “Kara, baby, I’m fine… Your roof isn't though.” 

Both of you looked up and saw the smoking hole in the ceiling, her face turning red and her heart beating fast enough that you could feel it if you concentrated. You chuckled, leaning down and kissing her once again before you laid on her chest. You knew she could handle your weight, and you didn’t mind basking in her warmth as you nuzzled against her bare chest and enjoyed hearing her heart. 

But the second was short lived as Kara gasped and shot up straight. “Oh no, no, no,” Kara muttered, her eyes widening as she looked down and ran her fingers across your back where the blood was ever so slightly beading at the surface where her nails cut in. “I hurt you… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Kara, hey, hey it's okay…” You cooed softly, reaching for her face and gently rubbing your thumbs across her cheekbones. Kara couldn’t keep the tears at bay as she held you by the wrists. “It’s okay… I liked it.”

“Y-You liked that I hurt you?” She frowned.

You simply smiled and kissed her forehead. “I did. You didn’t know this about me, but I’m a bit of a masochist… A little pain during sex? I like it a lot.” 

“Oh,” Kara blinked a little before she smirked and leaned back in, kissing at your neck. “Then I think I will have some fun with you too…”

“Just remember our safe word, babe,” You mumbled, practically melting in her hands as Kara started to remove your sports bra with nothing but her bare strength, tearing it at the seams and shredding the fabric to pieces. 

Kara gently bit down on your neck and you gasped, bucking against her. “Kryptonite…”

Alex hadn’t bothered knocking on Kara’s door for a long time now. It used to be her apartment, and it wasn’t like Kara had super hearing to sense whenever Alex was in the hallway… oh wait, yes she did.

“Kara!” Alex shouted out from the front door as she closed it behind her, a box of breakfast pastries sitting in her right arm. “I have a present!”

Alex was so busy setting the box down on the counter and opening it up that when she heard someone stumble out of the bedroom, she did a whole double take at seeing you in one of Kara’s massive shirts that she would sleep in. Of course, it wasn’t that big on you due to your muscular build. 

“Uh… Hey Alex,” You anxiously rubbed at your neck and Alex was practically gaping at the sight of you. Just from here, Alex could count at least seven hickies on your neck. You had a fresh set of bandages on your arm, which was shocking to see because Alex doesn’t remember you getting shot in the arm, just the side. 

Your hair was a total mess, and Alex saw even more bite marks on your thighs. What in the actual hell did Kara do to you? She never saw Kara make those kinds of marks on any of her partners before. The blonde was deeply terrified of hurting others,so for her to bruise you and so openly? It was so bizarre!

Kara called out your name from around the corner and you looked just in time to hold out your arms. The super stumbled for a second. “What? What is it?” 

You bit your lip and looked at Alex before seeing Kara use her x-ray vision to see who was on the other side of the wall. Almost instantly, she started shouting at her. “Alex! Why didn’t you knock?!” 

“How did you not hear me?!” Alex chirped back, biting into a muffin on the counter and sighing. “Not so super right now, huh?”

“Honey, you should uhm…” You looked at the blonde and how she was completely bare in the hallway, much to your enjoyment. You didn’t want to tell her, but it was needed. “Put something on?” 

The Kryptonian felt like dying in that moment, running back towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut harder than intended. You flinched and looked at Alex, nervously shuffling over to the kitchen island and rubbing your hands down over your face. 

“Whatever you are about to say,” Alex started, making you look up. “Keep it to your damn self.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything Agent Danvers,” You teased. “But I will tell you that my apartment was shot up last night…”

“Wh-What, why didn’t–” Alex sputtered, pushing the muffin away on the countertop and reaching for the bandages on your bicep. You simply allowed her to do whatever she liked, knowing damn well that she would pull the superior card like she loves to do whenever you get injured. Very carefully, Alex began to snip away at the bandages with her personal trauma shears that she kept on her person at all times, exposing the bullet hole in your arm. “Why do you keep getting shot at?”

“Woman, I am a lead magnet,” You said, flinching a little at the cold air touching the exposed, puckered and bruised flesh with the gaping wound on full display. Alex rewrapped your arm with the bandages sitting in the open medkit that Kara left out the night before and let out a deep, uncomfortable sigh. You frowned. “It wasn’t my fault this time.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, Agent,” Alex snapped, making you blush with embarrassment. “Who was it?”

“Remember when me and Kara met? And I beat that guy up in the bar? Well, he’s targeting alien sympathizers, but I think he just had it out for me as some form of payback for getting him arrested again.” 

Alex made a face of disapproval and immediately pushed the box of pastries in your direction. You immediately reached in, taking a chocolate croissant from the pile and smiling with gratitude. “If you had the night I think you had, you definitely need sugar.” 

“I thought we weren’t gonna talk about it.”

“We’re not talking about it, I’m just stating something rhetorical.” 

“Alex,” Kara demands her sister’s attention, wearing a tank top and sleep shorts, much to your disappointment now. “Stop embarrassing my girlfriend, please?” 

You immediately felt your face turn a deep pink and pretended to be very interested in the croissant in your hands, biting into the pastry and shifting your weight back and forth between your feet and refusing to look up at either of the Danvers sisters. 

“Is this my life from now on?” You muttered.

Kara snorted, picking up her own muffin and rubbing her fingers across your upper thigh making you shiver. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night, or this morning–”

Alex gagged. “Kara, gross! Stop!” 

Well, if this is my life… You thought with a smile. I could definitely get used to it. 

[dalekmeep]

Happy birthday to THE Doctor Who actress of all time!! Lis would have been 78 today. She has been a huge inspiration to me since I was a kid, it’s hard to know how to put into words what she has meant to me for so long. She is loved and missed always 💕

[taylorswiftstyle]

Out and about | Sydney, Australia | February 20, 2024

House of CB 'Chicca Top' - $119.00

I had voiced just today in my Tortured Poets prediction post over on the TSS Patreon what our first glimpse of “official” TTPD candid style would look like now that we all have a project to contextualize her fashion through. The last year has seen Taylor evoke a mature continuation of the schoolgirl styles (heeled loafers, plaid mini skirts, chunky knits) she’s loved since her late teens that one can now perhaps read in retrospect as future nods to ‘dark academia’ fashion that we may continue to see unfold under the TTPD masthead.

This ‘fit (our first following her album announcement at the Grammys) seems to all but confirm that by underlining the key items that she’s been repeating as this era’s uniform. Pieces like her House of CB bustier-style corset top (the hook and eye front closure, ruffled neckline, and curvy seam details feel soft and femme and a little sensual) and belted mini skirt (her third by Miu Miu).

I so look forward to continuing to watch TTPD fashion unfold. What are your thoughts? Both on past outfits and this one perhaps leading to the road of The Tortured Poets Department.

Worn with: Tilly Sveaas necklace and Miu Miu skirt

Get the look: Free People, $48 / Free People, $78 / LPA, $107

Illustration by Amelia Noyes

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 78 (Conrad's New Dad Mode)

Heather and Conrad brought baby Lavender home under a light snowfall. A dusting of white on the ground quickly disappeared: the calm before Brindleton's Bay's notoriously blizzard-like winter weather.

Inside the Nesbitt-Gordon home, not even the cries of a tiny newborn could dampen her blissful parents' spirits.

Baby Lavender loved attention from the start, often crying just to be held. Both mom and baby were in perfect health, and Conrad took to fatherhood immediately.

She was named to honour Conrad's mother, whose death so deeply affected him. Every night, he cradled his daughter in his strong arms when he came home from work, his heart full of love he'd never imagined possible.

"Hi, sweet girl. Daddy missed you today." The tiny infant gazed back at him, wide-eyed. "And what did you do all day? Did you sleep well? Did you let your mom sleep well, too?"

Heather woke from a nap and watched Conrad bond with their daughter. "I think she's already smiling at you," she said.

"I think I'm turning into my Dad. He loved everyone's babies and I always thought I'd drop them. But it's like I can hear him in my head telling me how to hold her. Like he's right here."

Heather shrugged. "Maybe he is. You know I'm not really into all that Watcher stuff, but we've seen ghosts, made friends with the Grim Reaper..."

"Mrs. Goth's daughter-in-law really walked in on her and Grim getting out of the shower together?"

"That's what Spencer said! If it wasn't Mrs. Goth, I might not believe it. But after everything she's shown us this past year, it just makes sense. Apparently Lydia wasn't even phased by it because living with Mrs. Goth is like walking around in a half-haunted house."

(Apparently actual woohoo actions with Grim aren't available until Tuesday because these two are fully official romantic partners now and would not get in the shower or even 'woohoo here.' HURRY UP, BELLA WANTS SOME GRIMMIE!)

"She brings up travelling on her seance table practically every time I see her," said Conrad. "And it's weird...ever since I got back from the Magic Realm I've been just as curious as I've been glad we've been too busy."

"You should go sometime. I told you, it was like going to school. I might need to stick close to Lavender to meet her demanding schedule, but Bella kept you safe in Glimmerbrook and we all trust her. Ash, too."

"I heard him talk about good tailoring the other day." He chuckled, placing Lavender back in her bassinet. "Between Bella and Nancy, I won't be surprised if he ditches the knit caps and hoodies for good, eventually."

"How was your day?" Heather stood, pulling him into an embrace.

"Long. I'm glad to be home. Hard to believe you're already going back to work next week."

(She didn't take traditional maternity leave as a small business owner. She just had a baby on Saturday and went back to work on Tuesday in-game.)

Conrad's phone beeped. "Is that work?" Heather asked.

He nodded. "Ever since I made sargent at the station, my cases have gotten a little tougher. But this can wait."

"My parents want to come this weekend to meet Lavender, and I said it was fine," she said. Conrad nodded as his phone beeped again. "Do you need to get that? Conrad, are you okay? Is this about those security cameras you ordered?"

"What? No. That's just a safety precaution."

"Well, why now?"

He froze, glancing back at their sleepy-eyed little girl. "She came along and I just...It's not like we'll be the only people in the world with a home security system."

"Conrad, if you're working a difficult case, you can talk to me. I can handle it."

He smiled. "Everything's fine, and the phone stopped beeping. What should I make for dinner?"

Although Heather and Conrad were officially engaged, they had no immediate plans to tie the knot - mostly because Heather and the Watcher wanted to wait for a warmer season to get married.

They were still a team, still committed, but for now they were both busy with work, caring for their pets, and raising two kids. Heather balanced Lavender's feeding schedule, helped Ash with his homework, and ran the clinic.

But unlike when Ash was born, Heather wasn't by herself and she could rely on Conrad to be there. Despite her exhaustion, this time felt so much easier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I'm trying to make my posts shorter. Trying! This post was going to have 23 photos so it's been split into two and this episode is posting a lil earlier than I'd intended it to post tomorrow. I'm still trying to get out a certain amount of storyline before Halloween so I've already broken my plan to post every other day. I'm learning as I go and I'm slowly adapting to shorter installments, I swear, but thank you so much for putting up with my wordiness, guys. 🙏

[crguang]

can I request nsfw prompt #78 for yukong? 🤑🤑

i miss my wife so bad. why is this 2.5k words

cw: some smut at the end, oral sex w/ sub!yukong for the soul

It’s almost ten in the evening when you check your phone to send Yukong a message. You had been too preoccupied this afternoon to let her know that you would finish working later than usual, so you’re a little surprised to not find a text from her checking up on you once she realized you wouldn’t show up for dinner. You type out a message telling her that you’re back in Starskiff Haven and on your way home. You barely put the phone back in your front pocket when it buzzes with a reply. You walk through illuminated streets as you read it and frown.

Okay. I’m finishing up some things at the Palace of Astrum, be there soon.

It’s quite late, Yukong should have gone home hours ago, if she’s still working it means she likely got lost in the mountain of documents and reports on her desk and won’t want to step away from it until the pile has significantly been reduced. You sigh quietly, pocketing the device and changing the direction of your footsteps towards the Palace of Astrum. You wonder if she’s eaten dinner at all, you know how focused and negligent of her needs she can get; she’s also been feeling a little irritated recently due to hormonal changes and doing paperwork at night is easier without the usual clatter of employees and computers. It’s an old habit you’ve been trying to break by going home together whenever your schedules allow and having your last meal of the day in each other’s company (Yukong’s cooking is to die for.) It forces her to leave the office around six at the latest and that way, you get to have her for yourself all evening. You stop by her favorite takeout place on the way to her workplace and order some soup dumplings to go. Warm food in hand, you quickly make your way to the Palace of Astrum, knowing Yukong would still be there despite her earlier message.

The large door creaks open when you push it with one hand. You walk inside the spacious headquarters of the Sky-Faring Commission and instantly spot Yukong’s bent figure at the far end of the room, desk alight as she scribbles things on a document. She’s so busy with whatever she’s doing that she doesn't hear you come closer like she would normally. Her ears are flattened forward and her shoulders look tense, a clear sign of her discontentment.

“Yukong?”

Her head raises abruptly at the sound of your voice so near and the woman blinks as her gaze settles on you walking up the couple of stairs needed to reach her work station. You see a flicker of guilt blending in the violet of her eyes at the realization that time has passed her by once again and you smile to alleviate her worries.

“You’re here,” Yukong states softly then glances at the takeout bag in your hand. “What’s this?”

“Dumplings. Did you eat?”

“Ah…”

She doesn’t say no, but indirectly answers your question anyway. You step closer to her to peep over her shoulder at the dozen of papers laying before her, some of which are annotated with her neat handwriting while others are sprawled on the surface as if she was looking for something in particular. Yukong follows your gaze to her work and sighs.

“I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” she apologizes in a low voice, stacking documents on top of each other before organizing the piles into different folders. “I was so restless today, I could only focus when most of the staff had gone home. I didn’t realize it until I saw your message.”

“It’s alright,” you assure her lightly, “are you okay?”

Yukong looks up at you with a small smile, your concern appreciated. “Yes. Just… not quite myself at the moment.”

“You probably need a break. Let’s go home so you can eat, and I could give you a massage if you want.”

She hums. Your words sound nice but they’re not enough to keep her attention off the work waiting for her on her desk. She glances back at it, lingering on a certain pile to her right, and the tip of her ears twitch the way it does when she’s about to say something you won’t like.

“I still need to finish those though…”

You lay the bag of dumplings on the ground, freeing your hands to cross your arms over your chest. Yukong pointedly avoids the purse of your lips.

“They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s the problem. If I finish tonight, I can focus my attention on other matters tomorrow.”

“You’ve been working for hours. When was the last time you took a break? Two in the afternoon?”

Yukong’s smile turns apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

You don’t throw in the towel, instead shifting close to where she sits and lifting a leg to straddle her lap. Yukong lets out a soft sound of surprise, instinctively raising her hands so you can get comfortable on her plump thighs. You feel the desk’s edge against your lower back. Her eyes meet yours and you circle her neck with your arms, fiddling with a few strands of silky hair and curling them gently around your fingers. Her body is warm, like always, and you can’t help a smile at the unimpressed look she gives you even as one of her hands rests against your waist. If the place wasn’t totally empty, she would have pushed you off.

“What are you doing?”

“Now you have to focus on me.” From up close, the smooth bow of her lips seems to draw you in. Your gaze flitters to its pink curve before taking in her narrowing eyes.

“I really need to finish this, kit.”

“But do you?”

Yukong simply sighs once more. You know she’s close to breaking, to succumb to your insistent wishes, she just needs a little push. Your fingers leave her long hair to ghost over her warm cheek with your nails, drawing senseless patterns on her skin. There’s a faint flush across her face, and you briefly wonder if she’s feeling hotter than usual. You can feel the tension in her shoulders evaporate slightly at the loving gesture, but she also shifts under you a few times, seemingly restless. To convince her further, you lift a hand to the back of her left ear and brush the soft fur at your disposal in a languid motion. Her lashes flutter involuntarily.

“Come on…” you support your saccharine tone with a small pout, “go home with me?”

“It would be irresponsible—”

You don’t let her articulate her argument. You lean forward to press a chaste kiss on her lips and despite its short duration, her words melt on her tongue. The taste of her is familiar and brings comfort you only find in her. You can’t resist capturing her mouth with your own a second time and Yukong lets you, eyes falling shut. She returns your sweet kisses as you absentmindedly stroke the back of her ear, and a little quiver runs through it at your gentle touch. Again, her thighs shift under your weight, brushing together almost unconsciously. Her breath blends with yours with every quiet exhale through her nose. You’re first to withdraw from her puckered lips, gaze dulled by the tenderness of the moment. The pink hue of her cheeks spreads to the base of her neck and her chest rises a beat quicker. Her hands now hold your body to hers.

You recognize the veil over her irises as she looks at you, the sight of her dilating pupils is the last piece of the puzzle concerning her mood lately. The prominent flush of her skin, her restlessness— you spare a glance behind her and notice the sway of her fluffy tail. Her affliction becomes obvious.

“Yukong…” you start slowly, and she already looks embarrassed at her reaction to a few kisses, avoiding your growing smile for a moment. You bring her back to face you with kind fingers under her jaw. “Don’t be like that, Helm Master. Are you getting a little needy?”

Yukong makes a face that illustrates her self-consciousness. She doesn’t respond, but you don’t need a reply.

“Tell you what,” you continue, “we can go home and I’ll gladly take care of you, or… I could always get you off right here, right now.”

The mortification on her features makes you laugh and she swats your hand away from her chin, shaking her head like she aims to erase the thoughts that popped in her mind at your suggestion.

“Don’t be lewd.” She pauses for a couple of seconds after reprimanding you. “We can go home.”

You wear a smug smile as you stand from her lap and watch her put away her documents. She locks them in a drawer, quickly tidies up her desk and ignores your triumphant face all the while. She’s still flustered, you see it in the movements of her tail and the blush that colors her collarbones. You decide not to tease her further for now and readily lace your fingers with hers after she offers you a hand, picking up the food off the ground and leaving the Palace of Astrum behind for the night. Her warmth travels to your palm and up to your chest like a soothing balm and you drink in her proximity on your way back, occasionally pulling her to your side when she strays too far for your liking.

Yukong’s desire is written along her body, it’s in the flick of her ear and the grip of her hand around yours as you make your way home, and in the eagerness with which she pulls you forward to kiss you once you’re behind closed doors. Your breath is stolen by her fervent touches, her tongue wets your lips the moment they part, and it takes you a couple of minutes to regain your bearings. She is flushed against you, trapping you between her burning skin and the front door. She takes what she wants because she can’t help it and is too embarrassed to ask for it. Your hands squeeze her waist and a muffled noise sounds from somewhere in her throat. In one swift motion, you switch places with her, pressing her back to the door and her chest to yours. Your mouth doesn’t let her go, not that she minds. Your blissful sighs become one with each exhale and your hands dip into the cuts of her dress over her hips to feel more of her skin. You think you feel her shiver. Yukong’s kisses are eager with the hint of a desperation that you find deeply endearing. She verbalizes her needs through soft, muffled moans against your lips, and your mind fogs up with arousal at the low tone of her voice. Your knee wriggles between her thighs just to hear the sharp intake of breath from her mouth.

Her body is pliable under your hands, it bends and moves at your will as you lead Yukong to the bedroom, the takeout you bought forgotten somewhere near the entrance of the house. You’re suddenly hungry for something else. Yukong can’t control the sway of her tail or the hairs that rise across her body, you find it so arousing to witness her reaction to your devoted touch; you undress her carefully even in the face of her impatience, letting the fabric of her dress crumple to the floor, and you take a measured step backwards to admire the curves of her stomach and hips. She tugs you to the bed with a hand. When she gets like this, your weight on her grounds her to the present, to the open-mouthed kisses you plant over her jaw and the sensation of your fingers digging into her thigh. Wetness pools in her underwear just from having you so close.

“Hah… Mmnh…”

Yukong makes the sweetest noises when you finally take pity on her and trail your tongue up her wet slit, collecting her arousal like it’s a treat to be enjoyed. The dark hairs on her cunt are slick with her need, and like an obedient pup she keeps her thighs spread for you, allowing you to lose yourself in the heat between her legs. Her tangy taste overpowers your senses. Part of you hears the quiet moans that tumble from Yukong’s lips and feels her fingers in your hair, holding you firmly against her pussy, but your nose is buried in her and you can’t focus on anything else. Her clit throbs for your attention so you comply with her silent request and wrap your lips around the aching bud, sucking it lightly into your mouth. Your arms are around her thighs to keep her close, and you eat her out as if she was a glass of cool water on a hot summer day.

“K-Kit—“

The loving nickname, in this context, makes you moan into her cunt. Your tongue laves her puffy lips steadily, sometimes teasing her dripping entrance for more of her taste etched onto the walls of your mouth. You feel a throbbing sensation between your legs but ignore it for now, fully dedicated to having Yukong come on your tongue. Her breasts rise and fall with the beating of her lungs, perky nipples hard as gemstones and just as pretty. Her hips meet the pace of your mouth, desperate for her impending release. The tremble of her thighs indicate how close she is to coming for you and you flick her sensitive clit with your tongue a few times to send her over the edge.

Her eyes squeeze shut with the intensity of her release and a pitiful sound of pleasure sticks to the back of her throat, her cunt throbbing beneath your devout mouth. You lap up the cum smeared over her pussy with a satisfied hum. Yukong’s breaths are heavy, she lays against the pillows as she comes down from her high, and you clean her up as one would savor an iced dessert. Softly sucking on her clit earns you a noise close to a whimper. She’s too far gone to feel embarrassed about the sounds she’s making, the thought makes you smile.

You raise your head to look at her properly. You run your hands up her hips. She’s so beautiful, wrecked by your tongue. Yukong blinks slowly, gazing down at you through lidded eyes, and you recognize that lustful stare. You’ll be ruining her multiple times before the night ends; she won’t be entirely satisfied until her limbs ache and she’s emptied herself for you.

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

William Adolphe Bouguereau (French, 1825-1905) The Virgin of Consolation, 1875 Musée d'Orsay Mary - Our Mother Has Mary any relation to us? Yes, she surely has--is the answer of the Catholic Church. And it is the same today as it was in the fourth century: "Eve was called the mother of the living...after the fall this title was given to her. True it is...the whole race of man upon earth was born from Eve; but in reality it is from Mary that Life was truly born to the world. So that by giving birth to the Living One, Mary became the mother of all living" (Saint Epiphanius, Against Eighty Heresies, 78, 9). Christians have expressed Mary's relationship to us by addressing her with the title "Our Mother." This, of course, does not denote motherhood in the natural sense of the term, but a real spiritual relationship. Just as truly as Saint Paul, speaking to the Corinthians, could say: "In Christ Jesus, through the Gospel, I have begotten you" (1 Corinthians 4:15), Mary can say to all: "In Christ Jesus, through my consent to your redemption, I have begotten you." She was associated in our regeneration by giving us its Author. When Jesus Christ on Calvary addressed to Mary the words: "Woman, behold thy son," and to Saint John, "Behold thy mother," he proclaimed this truth. Christians always have considered Saint John as personifying all the redeemed who would look upon Mary as their "mother." This is the origin of devotion to Mary.

[nikethestatue]

Happy birthday to my bestie, my mate, my Elriel sister @tswaney17

I wouldn't have joined this fandom without her. So if anything, blame her! Jokes aside, I hope you have a marvelous year and meet your own stranger in the night. Please enjoy!

One shot

Summary: Elain Archeron is celebrating her birthday and happens to meet an enigmatic and mysterious stranger who upends her world

She smoothed her black bodysuit over her hips, though it wasn’t wrinkled and then tousled her hair, in what she hoped, was sexy, beachy curls.  

Anyone else would’ve told her that she looked great—well put together, elegant, and not trying too hard. But to her self-critical eye, she saw a slew of imperfections. Hips too wide, breasts too large, stumpy fingers...She could stand here all night and critique herself, but what would be the point? It was what it was, right? Some part of her though, liked what stared back. The black bodysuit hugged her in all the right places, and paired with strappy golden heels and some delicate gold jewelry, she looked...nice. Not quite her 31 years old. Her friends always said that she was a ‘young 30’. She looked about 24. But inside, there were days when she felt 78.  

Oh well. Time to go. That’s not to say that she didn’t want to back out of her solo restaurant trip about 25 times today. Internally, she’s been telling herself that she is too busy, too tired, too poor, and that staying in with a bottle of wine and pizza would be just fine. Another part of her wanted to get out. Even if she looked like a loser, dining alone. At least it was a Wednesday night—not the weekend—so she could theoretically make up a story of being on a business trip. Not that anyone’s going to ask. But she needed that security blanket for herself: “I am eating alone, because I am here on business’. Yeah, that sounded legit. She was a successful, professional woman, determined and confident, and she was on business in Chicago.  

She grabbed her clutch and headed out.  

It was a warm evening by Chicago standards. The middle of April could be blustery or it could be blistering. You never knew. Tonight was lovely, actually. Trees were in full bloom—white, pink, yellow, assertive red, purple, even blue—bursting in flowers of every shape and size along the streets of her neighbourhood.  

Beatrice was a quint restaurant in Fulton Market. Or as ‘quaint’ as a restaurant could be in the bustling, hipster corner of the city. She only knew it because she’d come here before with her stylish, popular co-worker, Morrigan. She recalled how Mor wore a pristine baby blue bodysuit, sky-high heels, and a sparkling silver belt studded with glittery gemstones. Mor’s hair was a waterfall of golden blonde, which cascaded sensually down her back. Her skin was flawless. Her makeup was perfection, and her nails the right shade of pearl. When they were seated, all the girls in the party immediately rattled off a list of things they didn’t eat, were allergic to, and ‘avoided’. Mor announced that she was ‘celiac’ in a tone that implied that obviously she was celiac! And then proceeded to order bread. When the waiter told her that bread has gluten, Mor said that ‘she was allowed to today’.  

Back then, she’d ordered something called the Straight ‘A’ Salad, not wanting to tuck into something juicy and fatty in front of everyone. It ended up being empty and unsatisfying. But she still wanted to go back there, because the other items on the menu looked good, the vibe was nice and not overwhelming, and the drinks were inventive. If nothing else, she’d get her full in alcohol. 

“Follow me, Miss,” the hostess beckoned her and she scurried quickly between tables, wanting to be seated as soon as possible. 

It was nice. The table was by the wall, and she could see inside the restaurant and out the window. She laid her clutch on the table and exhaled. She was here. She was in her place, in her chair.  

She made it. 

“Are we celebrating anything tonight, Miss?” the waiter asked, when he approached with the menu. 

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I am on a business trip.” 

“And do you have any allergies?” 

“No!” she stated decisively. No. She is going to eat what she wanted. No faux allergies for her. 

The drinks menu looked a bit intimidating. Lots of things with Mezcal and Elderflower and words like ‘smoked’ and ‘hibiscus ginger kombucha’. After discreetly googling what kombucha was, she gagged and decided on a Lemond Drop. Safe and sound. 

The waiter wasn’t exactly impressed by her choice, but she didn’t care. Instead, she ordered Cheddar Popovers with bacon butter, and green chili queso for appetizers. It harkened back to her California upbringing, where things were less formal, the food less complicated, and the loneliness less acute. She suddenly and desperately missed her sisters, who lived back home. She missed the sun, tacos, trips to Sacramento and the simpler life she had back home.  

Sighing, she sipped her cocktail and looked around. It was fairly bustling, couples and friends chatting animatedly, drinking their complicated drinks and laughing. But...she felt okay. Not amazing, but okay. It was peaceful.  

It felt peaceful until her eyes fell on a singular, solitaire figure of a man, who sat at the bar, with a drink in front of him. The reason she even paid attention to him was because he was literally breathtakingly beautiful. So handsome, her breath stalled in her chest. Big. So goddamn big, it felt like he was sucking the air into the vortex of a black hole that he’d created just by simply...being. He sat, unmoving, in a sharply cut suit and a white shirt, unbuttoned at his neck. The other reason why she looked at him was because he was staring back at her. Big, bold, unflinching stare. Those incredible, luminescent eyes almost glared at her, and she wished she’d know what colour they were. The man’s face remained impassive, but he continued staring, even once she’s averted her eyes and squirmed in her seat. And now, all she could feel was his stare, following her every move. It was suddenly hot, and she felt her nipples pop like tiny Whack-A-Moles beneath her bodysuit. Served her right for not wearing a bra! Jesus Mary and Joseph. Well, her evening was ruined just like that. Instead of being at peace with her lemon drop and her popovers, she was not being scorched by the gaze of this absurdly handsome man, and all she wanted to do was look his way and see if he was still looking at her. While she didn’t want him to be looking at her. But she wanted to make sure that he was. Oh, god. What. The. Hell. 

She was on the verge of fanning herself, before realising that she’d be looking like she was having hot flashes, and it was too early for that. Her nipples were hard as bullets and she was forced to cover her breasts with her folded arms, just to maintain some sense of decorum. As she ‘busied’ herself with her drink, she snuck a momentary glance at the man. He was still there, but no longer looking at her. Instead, he was on his phone, and a deep sense of regret and longing washed over her at once. 

He was interested in her for 23 seconds.  

That was it. 

But she supposed that for the most handsome man in the world to take notice of her for 23 seconds was sufficient enough. 

“Miss, your popovers,” the waiter stepped up to the table, placing one plate down in front of her, and then the other, “and queso. Please be careful, it’s hot.” 

The food looked fine, but somehow, she no longer felt particularly hungry. She wasn’t sure if it was because the man was no longer looking at her, or because he was looking at her before. Did she want him to look at her? No. No, she didn’t. He was entirely outside her comfort zone, with his piercing gaze and his unnaturally good looks and he was definitely a player, so there was no need for all of this.  

On her birthday, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She didn’t need smouldering men giving her the death stare. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on her food. The popovers were light and fluffy and crispy on the outside, and the bacon butter was to die for. Sinful, but so, so good. 

She sunk into her seat, enjoying her cocktail and alternating between the popovers and then the rich, spicy queso. She was still deciding on the main course—penne with spicy vodka sauce? Slow cooked short rib?  

“Miss,” 

Her contemplation was interrupted by the waiter, who was holding a drink. 

“From the gentleman at the bar,” he said and placed the drink in front of her. 

Her mouth fell open. Whaaat... 

Timidly, she allowed her eyes to travel to the bar and sure enough, there he was. Staring. A small, secret smile touched his beautiful mouth and he inclined his head just a bit. She didn’t exactly know how to act in these situations. Was she supposed to drink the drink that he sent? Invite him over? Go over there herself? Ignore him like a total douche? 

Okay, first things first. She raised the pretty coupe glass to her lips and tentatively sipped the drink. Sour and smokey, with a touch of sweetness and heavy on lemon flavour, this was definitely a whiskey drink. And she didn’t like whiskey. But for some reason, she really liked this. She took another sip, a bolder one, and then glanced at the man. He was smiling, as he watched her drink, and when she swallowed, he winked at her. Approving? Enjoying watching her? Smug? Pleased? She wasn’t sure. But she... 

“Ready to order, Miss?” the waiter was back, and she absently said ‘fish tacos’ which isn’t what she even wanted, but she was too scrambled to come up with a better idea. “Very good,” the waiter chirped, and before he disappeared, she said, “can you ask the gentleman who bought the drink to join me?” 

Her throat was dry. Her underarms were sweaty. 

WHAT was she doing?? 

She never did anything like this before? Inviting strange men to eat with her? Never! 

“If he wants to,” she added quickly and the waiter nodded.  

God, please say no. Please. Please god, let him say no. I don’t want it. I don’t. 

There he was. Moving through the restaurant like the Angel of Death. Dark and tall and slim and muscular. Jesus. He was actually coming over! Oh. No. Nononononono. 

And then he was standing at her table, how own drink in hand. 

“I wasn’t sure if Whiskey Sour was the way to go,” he said—his deep, dark, raspy voice matching his appearance to a tee. "But it looks like I did well.” 

She swallowed hard and then muttered, “Is that what it is?” 

Yep, it sounded lame even to her own ears. 

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “First time?” 

Somehow, this made her blush. A simple question, and a correct assumption, but for some reason, it was laced with innuendo. 

Their eyes finally locked.  

Hazel. His eyes are a gorgeous greenish amber colour, spectacular like the rest of him. 

He took a sip of his drink and slowly dragged the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, swiping the droplet and that made her even sweatier than she was before. Soon she was going to be sweating like a sumo wrestler—which of course is the most enticing look a woman could sport.  

“No, I’ve had it before,” she finally managed to answer. 

He smirked a knowing smile. 

“Have you?”  

As he was looming over her and attracting way too much attention from the females of the species, and even some males, she all but ordered him, “you can sit down!” 

He smiled again, that smooth, secret smile, saying, “I thought you’d never ask”. 

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just watched him in silence as he slid onto a chair across from her.  

“Thanks for the drink,” feeling awfully uncomfortable, knowing she was not great at small talk, and completely out of depth with this man, she thought that this was all a pretty bad idea. What was supposed to have been a quiet and nice evening alone, was turning into...well, she wasn’t sure what it was turning into, but it was something.  

“You aren’t waiting for anyone, are you?” he asked, sounding curious. “I wouldn’t need to fight a boyfriend or something...I mean, I’ll win, but,” 

She huffed, and snorted a laugh. 

“So confident?” 

He shrugged, “pretty confident”. After a pause, he pressed, “so?” 

“No,” she blushed despite her best efforts to appear cool. “I am here alone. On a business trip,” she lied smoothly, grateful for having this little nugget in her pocket.  

He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, lounging comfortably. Suddenly, he said,  

“Nope. Try again.” 

Startled, she glowered at him, not knowing what he meant. All the while, as she squirmed in confusion, he casually drank his whiskey, watching her closely. 

“What,” she brought her glass to her lips and took a generous swig of the drink, “what do you mean?” 

“Only that you are not being exactly truthful,” he shrugged, and then grabbed a popover and swallowed the whole thing easily. “You aren’t here on any business trip.” 

“What?!” she exclaimed with indignation. “Excuse me! How do you know? What do you mean?” 

His eyes slowly slid over her bare arms, her chest, her neck, and again, she blushed like a fool, but there was no stopping her body’s reaction to this strange man. 

He was...enigmatic.  

“A beautiful woman like you, wearing something so elegant and understated,” 

Understated? Did he mean boring? 

“is not in Chicago on any business trip. So, that makes me think—if you aren’t waiting for anyone, and you are dressed up, then you must be,” he cocked his head, considering, “celebrating something? A new job? A birthday?” 

Most of his words rolled right over her head, because all she heard was ‘a beautiful woman like you’. He thought that she was beautiful? He? HE thought that?  

“What?” she asked dumbly. 

He chuckled, amused. “You are a little naughty liar, is what I am saying,” 

“You can’t call me that!” 

“Then don’t lie to me.” 

She bubbled her lips and finished her drink. Finished already? Shit. 

He noticed it too and motioned for the waiter.  

“Another drink for the lady,” he ordered. “And I’ll take another whiskey. And,” he thought for a moment and added, “bring us a bottle of champagne.” He looked at her and asked, “what are you eating?” 

“I think I ordered fish tacos,” she recalled, watching him in confusion.  

“Want to eat them?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Mind if I cancel them and order us steaks?” 

“Uhh...okay?” 

He did just that, telling the waiter that he’d pay for the tacos as well.  

Who the hell was this guy? He flicked his fingers and just got whatever he wanted. The waiter didn’t even question him! ‘Of course, sir’ ‘Whatever you want, sit’ ‘Right away, sir’.  

“So, is it your birthday?” he asked once the waiter ran to fetch the drinks. Literally, ran.  

“No.” 

His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips. 

Something about him and his look made goose bumps rise on her skin and she shifted under the table, crossing her legs. This guy and his unbelievable dominating bossiness were both scary, but also highly sexual. She knew that she was a bit of a submissive at heart, but that was mostly because she read way too many omegaverse books. But now, she was faced with a true Alpha. When they spoke of an Alpha Male, she suddenly became aware that she was in the presence of one. He wasn’t just tall, dark and handsome—even if he was a walking cliche with all of these attributes. But it was his undeniable, almost God-given natural dominance and superiority that she found so fascinating. And yes, so appealing as well.  

“It’s not your birthday?” he repeated. 

“N-no,” she bleated pathetically. 

He didn’t respond immediately, but only drummed his fingers on the table, and she noticed that his hands were scarred. Rather extensively. Burns, from what she could tell. Jesus. How did he get these? And both hands, too.  

“Lie to me again, and I will take you over my knees and spank that perfect bottom until you beg for mercy,” he warned, his voice impassive, his face unchanged.  

Her mouth dropped open and she thought that she was going to slide under the table and dissolve into a puddle. 

Was she supposed to cause a scene and slap him? Was she supposed to storm out of the restaurant? How does one reacted to being threatened by a spanking by a complete stranger? 

Also, he thought that her ass was ‘perfect’? 

“Let’s start anew, beautiful girl,” he proposed then, while she made silent gasping noises like a dying fish. 

The waiter arrived just then, and only that prevented her from fainting or screaming out loud. He popped the champagne bottle with flourish and poured both of them a measure, while also setting their cocktails down before them. 

“Don’t come back until the food is ready,” the stranger warned the waiter and the man nodded and left without saying a word. 

“What is your name?” 

She swallowed, but remembering his warning, she decided to go with the truth this time. 

“Elain.” 

“Gorgeous name,” he approved. “It suits you. I am Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” an exotic name for an exotic man. “Nice to meet you. I think?” she ventured and extended her hand to him. 

“Pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, squeezing her hand in his huge, warm, powerful palm, watching her with strange, almost palatable hunger. “Whether you’ll receive pleasure from me or not remains to be seen,” he decided vaguely and she bit her lip, sensing that innuendo again and not knowing how to deal with it. 

The one time a guy was instantly interested in her, and he is a dangerous weirdo. Figures. Just her luck. 

He raised his glass and said, “Happy birthday, Elain! I hope it’s wonderful to you.” 

“Thank you. That remains to be seen, I think,” she said softly and they touched their glasses. She sucked the champagne quickly, and with a sense of foreboding and some kind of desperation. She had no idea where this was going, or what he wanted from her. But she wanted it to continue. At least for the duration of this dinner. 

“What do you do?” he inquired, dipping a chip into the queso, but instead of eating it, he held it out to her. She looked around, in some kind of futile hope that someone would save her from this, but there was no one. Only this stunning, somewhat insane man, who was feeding her chips and dip. 

“Come on, beautiful Elain. Open up,” he urged soft, his voice smooth and husky and so tempting.  

Numb, and only driven by the sound of that sensual voice, she opened her mouth and he gently pushed the chip inside. As she pulled it between her teeth, he brushed his finger over her lower lip and then brought it to his mouth and sucked. 

“More?” he whispered and then concluded, “more.” 

He dipped another chip and fed it to her again. 

“So?” 

“I am in marketing,” she answered, knowing in advance that hers was the most uninspiring answer in history. But she was more preoccupied by the fact that she was being fed chips by a strange man in the middle of a restaurant. 

“And you live in the city?” he asked further. “Please don’t even start with the whole ‘I am here on business’.” 

She sighed and admitted, “Fine, I am from the suburbs. But I work in the city. What do you do?” 

He didn’t seem too thrilled about her question and took his time eating the last of the popovers. 

“Do you really want to know?” he asked finally. 

“Yes, of course. Why not?” 

“You might not like it.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? What do you do? Kill people?” she joked. 

He smiled at her, but the smile was less of a smile, and more just a stretch of his lips. The smile didn’t reach his eyes 

“And if I am?” he wondered at last. 

She frowned and then it dawned on her and she laughed, “what? You kill people?” 

“Maybe.” 

A shiver ran down her spine and she gawked at him in shock. Until she dissolved in a flurry of laughs. 

“You had me there for a sec!” she wiggled her finger at him. “A+ for a perfect deadpan delivery! I am impressed.” 

He didn’t seem to be laughing, but he added, “but they were all bad”. 

She stopped laughing and nervously shifted in her seat. 

“Wait. What?” 

“You wanted to know what I did for a living,” he reminded her. 

As she processed his words, he just sat there, watching her intently. 

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed at last, realisation dawning on her, “it’s a scam, right?! You are one of those guys who pretends to be an assassin, or a millionaire, or in the CIA and then I fall for it, and in two months you’ll start asking me for money and I blow all my savings on you and then never hear from you again.” 

Shaking her head in disbelief she grabbed her napkin and then said, “thank you for the drink, Mr. Azriel. But I am not stupid. I appreciate the gesture—the razzle dazzle—but let’s part ways right here so that no one leaves here too traumatised.” 

He listened to her impassively and in the next moment, the waiter arrived with their steaks.  

She was hungry and upset, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here any longer and remain in his company. The whole thing was too bizarre and she didn’t want to get in trouble. And this man was clearly trouble. Or maybe troubled. Or both. 

“Azriel, I am,” 

“Sit,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. “You are safe with me. Don’t worry. But you did ask me what I did for a living,” he insisted again. 

“Well, when I did ask you, I didn’t expect for you to tell me that you are some kind of a killer!” she snapped, her voice rising. 

“I’d rather you didn’t yell,” he requested. “However, I wanted to tell you,” 

“Why?!” she exclaimed. “Don’t killers usually try and keep their profession,” she made a quotation mark sign with her fingers, “a secret?” 

“Normally, yes,” he agreed. “But, I want you to trust me and I felt that being honest is the best way to earn that trust.” 

“Trust me? Why? And,” 

“Because I want you,” he interrupted her and his tone was blunt, but calm. 

“Wha,” 

“I want you,” he repeated. “I saw you and you...well, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And now, I am obsessed with the idea of learning what you’d look like when I enter you. What sounds you’d make when you come on my tongue.” 

At that, the big steak knife fell out of her trembling fingers and she wondered if she was having some kind of out of body experience. An ‘episode’? She wasn’t prone to episodes, but hell, there was a first time for everything, right? 

He shrugged, and continued like this was a perfectly sane conversation they were having, “Sorry if this is a bit unorthodox,” 

An understatement of the century! 

“However, I am not one to mince words,” 

Another understatement of the century. 

“And when I want something, I go after it. And right now, I want you.” 

She made a gurgling sound, but he ignored it, then cut into his steak, and chewed slowly.  

“However, you don’t strike me as someone who sleeps around or who is used to the type of man I am,” 

Was any woman? 

“Therefore, I wanted to build a baseline of trust between us. Like I said, you have nothing to fear from me. I am simply a man, interested in a woman.” 

He was anything but, but okay. 

“So,” she finally found her voice which was lost somewhere in the bottom of her stomach, “telling me you are an assassin is your way of establishing a baseline of trust?” 

He looked at her hand, which was clutching a butter knife, her knuckles white, and smiled faintly. 

“I suppose so.” 

She reached for the bottle of champagne, but her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely grasp it. Smoothly, he took the bottle and topped off her glass. This was probably the worst idea—to continue drinking—but she couldn't think of anything else. 

“Why don’t you relax and eat,” he suggested. “The steak is cooked perfectly.” 

“I don’t think I am hungry.” 

“Nonsense. Lay down your weapon of choice, dig into your dish and relax a bit. Have fun. It's your birthday!” 

He then raised his glass and mused, ‘what should we toast to?” 

“Me remaining sane after this dinner,” she muttered under her breath. 

He laughed.  

“How about ‘to the future’? Because tomorrow with you is worth every yesterday I spent without you,” he said and she almost choked.  

He couldn’t be for real.  

No man talked like that. Ever. 

“Listen, I know I could a little blunt, but in my line of work, I have to move quickly and I typically don’t get many second chances. And I don’t want to miss my chance with you,” he drank his champagne and watched her attempt to concentrate on her steak. “And when I said that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am being honest. I saw you across the restaurant and you kind of blew my mind. It happens, you know,” 

“No, it doesn’t,” she argued. “Only in romance novels.” 

“Okay,” he shrugged, “so we have a romance novel beginning, so what?” 

“It’s not real,” she insisted.  

“Well, while you think on that, tell me when I can kiss you, because I’d really, really would like to kiss you right now,” 

“Never!” she shrieked. “Stop talking like that!” 

She desperately needed him to stop talking. Stop using that sensual, deep baritone to say deliciously sinful things to her. Because if he continued, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She kept trying to shield her breasts from him, since her nipples were achingly sharp, threatening to poke through the top of her body suit. And between her legs—disaster. She was flooded. Every glance at his strong, powerful hands made her wonder what they’d feel like between her thighs. What his soft lips would taste like if he did get that kiss from her. And every word he said just made her wetter and wetter. She feared she’d have a stain on her clothes once she got up from her seat, and the thought alone was mortifying.  

“I think you should let me kiss you,” he insisted, watching her intently. 

“No, I am not kissing you!” 

God, this steak was good!  

“How about this then,” he proposed slowly, “I scoot closer to you, and you let me play with your clit, while you eat, and then you come all over my hand. I pay the bill and we go to my place and I’ll continue making you come. Because all I want to do right now is kiss every inch of your porcelain skin, and fuck your soft, lovely mouth and watch my dick disappear between those rosy lips. And then you’ll come on my dick in your perfect pussy and ask for more, while screaming my name. And if you let me, I’ll fuck that gorgeous ass as well and will make you come from that as well. And then you’ll sleep in my arms and in the morning, we’ll go get breakfast.” 

She watched him in dull astonishment, her brain failing to work properly as she attempted to process his words.  

This really couldn’t be real. At all. No man, in the history of mankind, ever said words like these to a woman.  

Yes, he just sat there, with her perfect face and his perfect body, and waited. 

“And then you’ll go and kill some people at work?” was all she managed to say to his explicit monologue.  

She’s never been fucked anywhere, let alone her ass. So yeah. 

“Well, not at work. For work,” he corrected. 

“Uh uh,” she sighed. “And you are okay with me knowing about that then?” 

“Like I told you, I want you to trust me.” 

“Uh uh,” she sighed again. Then she set her napkin aside and told him calmly, 

“Azriel, it certainly has been an interesting evening. I thank you. I am not sure I’ll ever forget it, or you, but...I don’t think that I am the girl you need,” 

“All me to decide that,” he argued sharply. 

She chewed the inside of her cheek, before clarifying, “I suppose I choose not to be that girl for you.” 

“Why?” 

“I like my boring little life. It suits me. And you...you don’t suit me or my life.” 

She couldn’t even believe her own assertiveness. She was rarely like this.  

“It’s unfortunate,” he said sadly. “Forgive me if I offended you,” 

“Astonished, more like,” 

“Better than offended.” 

She got up from her chair and her knees felt soft and shaky, and for the first time she understood what ‘jelly legs’ were. She had jelly legs because of him.  

“Thank you for dinner. I better be going.” 

“I’d like to walk you to your car,” he offered. 

“I think it’s a bad idea. Besides, I am getting an Uber. I drank too much. Goodbye, Azriel.” 

She rushed out of the restaurant and onto the bustling Fulton Market, where there were hundreds of people milling around. Her fingers trembling, she got her phone out of her clutch and pressed the Uber button on the verge of hysteria now. She didn’t know where she was going even, so she pressed ‘home’ even though she knew this Uber would host like $60 at least. But she needed to get away. Away from here, away from him, away from making a bad decision. Very bad, terrible decision that she was yearning to make right now. 

3 minutes. 

3 minutes. 

Okay, she just needed to make it for 3 minutes out here, until the car came. 

She glanced at the phone frantically, over and over again, watching the little car move along the street diagram. 

Suddenly, a familiar scarred hand reached over her shoulder and grabbed her phone.  

“Wait! Give it back!” she demanded desperately. 

Azriel smiled at her and then typed something in her phone.  

“Now you have my number.” 

A text chimed, and he added, “and I have yours”. 

“We’ll never see each other again,” she promised. 

“We’ll see,” he said simply. 

Finally, Honda Civic! Blue! There she was!  

She bounced on her heels impatiently, hoping he wouldn’t do anything, and yet hoping that he would at the same time. 

Ugh. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” she said again. 

He opened the door for her politely and before she folded herself into the car, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” 

-

Azriel ‘The Shadow’ Night had two problems on his hands. 

As he watched the Honda weave in and out of busy traffic, he lit a cigarette—an occasional bad habit of his—and inhaled deeply. 

Nothing that he told her was a lie. 

He did find her to be incredibly beautiful. And his attraction to her was instant and hit him like an avalanche. He’d never felt anything remotely like this before. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and know, innately, that their paths were crossed forever and for a reason. 

The only omission in his tale was that their meeting was not accidental. And that she was the target, who was his current assignment.  

Now, he needed to figure out how to murder her, while keeping her alive. 

[stormy-river]

Transcripts from the Humanity Hotline 5

This one's been a long time in the making; had to make sure I did it right. Special thanks to @mothepissedoffmidget for the idea, and my roomie, @starryeyedlarkspur for helping with the advice.

-------

Operator: "Hi, thank you for holding. My name is Mindy. How can I help you today?"

Caller: "Yes, hi! I'm Nishel, the EMO [Entertainment and Morale Officer] on my ship. We hired a human about a month ago, and I'm struggling to keep up. Is it normal for humans to tire of activities so quickly?"

O: "That depends on the human, and the activities. Could you tell me a little more?"

C: "Yes. When we hired the human, she brought books and knitting supplies to entertain herself, which I though was helpful, but after a day or two she requested some puzzles. I was able to approve and acquire some fairly easily, but the human returned only a few days later asking for scrapbooking materials, and, well, the same thing happened. Over the last month, I've acquired puzzles, scrapbooks, a climbing wall for the gym, locks and a lockpicking set -- that one was a hassle to get approved, more knitting supplies, crochet supplies (I don't even know how that's different from knitting?), painting supplies, face painting supplies (again, I don't know how that's different), strange plastic bricks that fit together, and a violin. And that's just what was approved. I've also heard from the crew that she's downloaded more books, started writing stories on her personal computer, and started learning how to write programs, and yet, with all these things, she told me this morning that she has nothing to do and was bored. I don't know what else to do. I've spent 78% of this year's entertainment budget this month!"

O: "That's a lot. Some humans have a few different hobbies at once, but usually not that many. Do you have access to crew psychological evaluations?"

C: "Yes, when necessary for morale concerns."

O: "Is there anything in the human's file?"

C: "It says Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, which is also something she's mentioned a few times, but that's tagged for possibly interfering with work, not morale."

O: "ADHD would explain it. It shouldn't only be tagged as work-related as it can actually affect a human's whole life. This is another human thing that's different for everyone, with some hyper-fixating on one thing for a really long time, or different aspects of a single subject, and others, like your crewmember, gaining and losing interest in many different things very quickly."

C: "So this will keep happening? I can see about increasing the budget for next year, but I don't think this is sustainable long term."

O: "Don't panic, there's actually a cheaper method. Communicate with other ships and supply stations with humans on board to see if they are having a similar problem. If you can find others who get and lose hobbies quickly, you can trade the supplies; give them what your human is done with, and receive their extras for her. This will also have the extra benefit of building social connections as they discuss and trade."

C: "That makes sense. It would take a lot of coordination, but I can start asking the nearby fleet."

O: "Good. I will also send a report to the Alliance to see if something can be officially established. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

C: "No, thank you, Mindy. You've been a great help."

O: "Of course. Don't hesitate to call again if something else comes up."

End Transmission

Transcription Note: Following this call, the Alliance established the Hobby Interfleet Trade Service, now the Interfleet Surplus Exchange (ISE), commissioning a fleet of delivery ships to shuttle supplies.

[whencyclopedia]

The Bear Man

The Bear Man is a Pawnee legend exemplifying the Native American understanding of the natural world and serving as an origin tale for the Bear Dance, which was performed to awaken the bears in spring from their winter hibernation and also to celebrate the season of choosing a mate. The Bear Dance is still performed by the Pawnee today.

The bear holds special significance for the Pawnee, as well as other Native American nations including the Ute, as a powerful animal and one of the Nahu'rac – the creatures who serve Ti-ra'wa ("Father Above"), as messengers and mediators – and who are considered brothers by various indigenous peoples. According to scholar Bobby Lake-Thom:

The Bear is always a good sign and a special power. He represents wisdom, insight, introspection, protection, and healing. If you see a Bear while hiking in the woods or along the river, then you know that a very sacred place is nearby. (78)

In The Bear Man, a father, concerned for his son, makes friends with a bear cub in hopes that the Nahu'rac will remember his kindness and look after his boy. Later in life, the Nahu'rac bears remember this kindness and repay it by bringing the boy back to life after he is killed in battle and teaching him their spiritual "medicine" (powers). The story shares similarities with other famous Pawnee tales including A Story of Faith and The Boy Who Was Sacrificed, which also feature the supernatural entities of the Nahu'rac.

The Bear Dance

In Native American belief, generally speaking, there is no spiritual difference between a human being, a plant, a tree, an animal, or a rock, as all things are imbued by the Creator with the same resonant energy. Humans are in no way superior to the natural world but are expected to act as stewards and care for their environment as they would for their own family and community. The Bear Dance grew out of this understanding as the dancers, as they perform wearing the bear hides which have been gifted to them by their bear relatives, become those bears and offer to others bear wisdom, healing, and power. Scholar Larry J. Zimmerman writes:

For Native North Americans, the boundaries between the world of the spirits and the world of living people were not clearly defined: a third "in-between" world of transition separated them. Every entity to some degree inhabited all three of these worlds. If a human carried out the appropriate rituals, he or she could be transformed into a being from one of the other two worlds.

Such transformations often duplicated events of the "beginning time" when the world came to be as it is through the agency of culture heroes and tricksters. On ceremonial occasions, an individual might assume the appearance of such a figure and be thought, literally, to become that being. When a holy man put on a yellow bear hide, for his audience he actually was the bear. (126)

The Bear Dance was (and is) always performed in the spring, waking the bears from their hibernation, and signaling the time for young men and women to choose mates. Among the Ute and Pawnee, the traditional roles of festivals are reversed at this time as men, instead of women, prepare the area for the dance, and women, instead of men, initiate the dance to find a suitable mate. The Bear Dance may last ten days to two weeks and honor the spirit of the bears as much as that of the community and the natural world at large.

Continue reading...

[mrsstan21]

A Night to Remember

GIF credit: @21jumpstreet-x-reader

Summary: The gang heads to prom!

Tom Hanson x Reader 

A/N: Based on season 1, episode 6 "The Worst Night of Your Life"

Warnings: None! Fluffy as one can be

Word Count: 1.9k :)

Hobbs and I were put on a case together at a catholic school for girls.

 Apparently someone in the school has been committing Arson. 

It was a pain being in a place like this. It brought back so many memories from when I was in High School. 

Hobbs, and I were in health class, it was sex ed week. 

We were about to watch a video on the “wonderful life of marriage”. 

A girl in the class made a smart comment causing us all to break out into laughter. 

When the video started it was far from a perfect marriage, but more like the honeymoon at its extreme. 

The sisters quickly took out the tape as more laughter filled the class room. 

Just as we were about to get a lecture the fire alarm went off all the girls began to panic frantically running down the halls. 

***

We got back to the chapel completely tired, and exhausted. 

The guys all concern asked if we were ok.

“Medium well, thank you” Judy spoke taking a seat next to Jenko. 

I took a seat over next to Hanson. 

“How much longer do we have to be on this case I’m starting to get tired of wearing this god awful uniform” I spoke losing the tie around my neck. 

“Until we figure out who is trying to set the school on fire” Jenks answered. 

“Hobbs anything on today” he asked.

“Two kids got trampled on went to the hospital from smoke inhalation, and bruises, but they’ll be ok”.

“Those girls were like a herd of wild horses almost ran over me as we got out of the school” I spoke. 

Jenks was growing with frustration we were getting no where with this case. 

But Hobbs and I still had a ray of hope we’d close this case. 

Hanson spoke out on some files we had of some of the girls that attend the school. 

One of them had a very distinct background check and was on the prom planning community. 

“looks like you girls are joining the prom community”.

I groaned leaning onto Hansons shoulder. 

“What’s wrong with you” Ayoki asked.

“I’m reliving my senior year of high school that’s what’s wrong”. 

I got tired of this stupid tie that I finally just tore it off my collar.

“Oh yeah didn’t you go to catholic school” Penhall chimed into the conversation.

I rolled my eyes.

“You went to catholic school?” Hanson raised an eyebrow at me. 

“St. Mary’s Academy school for girls class of 78”. 

“Oh man that must have been hell” Ayoki commented. 

“It was…”.

***

The next day Hobbs, and I joined the prom community, and it was pure torture . 

These girls bickered over a stupid theme and how most of them didn’t have dates. 

Hobbs, and I payed very close attention to three girls who were there. 

Jane, Margie, and Patty. 

It was clear as day that Patty, and Jane hated each other. 

Patty made a hurtful comment towards Margie causing her to run out of the gym.

Yup I was reliving my old high school days. 

***

Hobbs stayed back to see if she could get any sort of information out of Jane. 

I changed out of the uniform, and into some casual cloths before catching the trolly back to the chapel. 

When I arrived Doug was frantically searching for a girl who had robbed him last night. 

“Still looking Penhall” I asked sitting on the table that Hason sat near. 

“Hasn’t stopped since this morning” Hanson informed me.

“Ah that’s the girl” he practically screamed.

Ripping out the photo of her he walks over to where I was leaning on the table. 

“Looks like you’re my date to the prom” he spoke looking over at me. 

Jenks then interrupted informing us that there would most likely not be a prom. 

Jane was caught last night almost setting fire to mother superiors office. 

Hobbs, and I couldn’t believe it. 

We made an agreement she’d blow her cover while I stayed back and see if we can clear her name. 

I had a strong feeling that Jane was not our girl. 

***

The rest of the day I wanted to do nothing more than to relax. 

I laid down on the couch near Hanson reading one of my books I keep in my drawer. 

“Hey y/n you remember your prom” Penhall asked from his desk. 

“Vividly” I spoke turning the page. 

“Well what happened?” He asks grabbing a chair and sitting closer to where I was. 

I looked over at him, and chuckled. 

“You guys do not want to hear that sob story. 

“Uh we very much do don’t we Hanson”.

I looked over at Hanson giving me a smile. 

“Alright then” I huffed.

Sitting up I took a deep breath. 

Can’t believe I am about to tell this story. 

“It was senior year of high school. Jake Russel captain of the football team over at Peters Prep for boys had asked me to the prom. Which was strange considering he was the most popular guy at his school, and was asking me captain of the debate team to the dance...But hey I was stocked I had a date. I remember working long shifts down at the record store to save enough money to buy this beautiful lavender dress. Well come prom night I got ready and waited for him to pick me up. But as time passed the clock stroke 11 and the dance was over. I had officially been stood up”.

Penhall, Hanson, and Ayoki all gave me sympathetic looks.  

“That guy’s a jerk” Hanson commented.

“Yeah he was. The next day at school I found out he took Laura Penning-way to the prom instead”.

“Let me guess captain of the cheer team" Penhall asked.

“Yup”. 

“Jesus y/n that’s terrible” Ayoki spoke.

“It’s whatever...really not like I cried myself to sleep that night. Just sucks that dress never got to see a dance floor or even got to slow dance”. 

“So maybe this can be like a do over for you” Ayoki smiles.

“I don’t think so guys I think I might sit this one out with Jenko. Be there as backup” I got up and walked over to get a coffee. 

***

Before night fall I went back home to grab all the files we had on the girls. 

I knew we were getting close, and tonight we would crack this case. 

I sat by my coffee table examining the documents when there was a knock at my door. 

I opened it reliving a smiling Hobbs.

“Shouldn’t you be at the chapel getting ready for this lame dance” I looked down at my watch. 

She comes in with a big black cover draped over her shoulder.

“You are going tonight” she smiles. 

I laugh crossing my arms.

“Hobbs I already talked to Jenko…”

“Well he changed his mind, you’re still going undercover tonight whether you like it or not”. 

I roll my eyes knowing there was no way out of this. 

Then I remembered something.

“I don’t even have a dress”.

“That’s what the bag is for” she motions towards it. 

I had only owned one dress in my entire life, and couldn’t possibly think it was the one. 

Unzipping the bag was the lavender dress from my prom night many years ago. 

“You broke into my storage unit” I laughed. 

“Maybe I did, but we don’t have time for that the guys are waiting for us at the chapel so let’s go”.

I was then dragged out of my apartment.

***

“I can’t believe this thing still fits after all these years” I said fixing the bottom of my skirt. 

“You look great y/n” she smiles.

Jenko yells for Hobbs and I to come downstairs.

Making our grand entrance the guys took notice at both Hobbs, and I. 

After all they weren’t use to seeing us all dressed up.

“Alright you both looking stunning…now you’re dates Hobbs you’re with Ayoki, y/n your with Penhall, and Hanson your date is Jane” Jenko spoke.

We then left to the prom.  

***

At the dance I was a little uncomfortable in the beginning, but slowly started to have fun. 

Penhall, Hobbs, Ayoki, and I were all dancing like there was no tomorrow. 

The song quickly changed into a slow dance. 

I looked over at Hanson who was left all by himself. 

“Dough you think I can sit this one out” I asked. 

He nodded knowing where I was going with this. 

I made my way over to Hanson who was already smiling. 

“You plan on standing here taking notes all night”

He laughs looking over at me.

“I thought you were dancing with Penhall” he asks.

“Nah you looked like you needed some company” I smile. 

Hanson stares at me for a while. 

I took a moment looking into those dark brown eyes of his.

Before I knew it he grabbed my hand, and lead me to the dance floor. 

But before we can even begin I saw Margie walk in with a blank stare on her face. 

Everything then began to happen so quickly. 

She slapped Doug, then rushing over to the wall with a lighter. 

Flames quickly emerged, and everyone began to run out of the gym. 

I lost my grip on Hanson when i was pushed around by the crowed.

I then fell onto the floor only inches away from the fire. 

Feeling the sweat already form on my forehead. 

“y/n!!!” I felt a pair of arms wrap around me helping me up, and out of the gym. 

“You ok” I saw the look of concern plastered on Hansons face.

I nod. 

He pulled me into his chest wrapping his arms safely around me.

***

Looks like Margie was the one setting flames to the school.

 She was arrested and we successfully closed another case. 

The dance ended early, but me, Ayoki, and Penhall weren’t ready to go home. 

Hanson ended up suggesting something to us. 

We found ourselves at a bowling alley that Hanson plays on with a team. 

Doug, and Ayoki were not amused. 

I kinda enjoyed Hanson get so into this game. 

I laughed every time he shouted. 

“Another slamerino!”.  

Hours went by until we were the only one here.

“Hey Hanson can we leave they’re about to close, and we’re the last ones here” Penhall shouted..

“Alright let’s go then” Hanson spoke putting away his bowling ball. 

Doug and Ayoki were the first ones out. 

I began to follow. 

“Hey y/n wait” I heard Hanson call for me. 

I turned back around and saw him begin to get a little nervous. 

“What’s wrong” I ask. 

“Hey Joey hit the lights” he says to the guy at the counter. 

Confused at first, but then I saw all the lights go off and a large disco ball fell from the ceiling. 

A slow song came on shorty after. 

I chuckled looking over at him shyly smiling. 

“Hanson what are you doing”. 

“I believe I still owe you a slow dance” he walks over, and grabs my hand. 

“Hanson you don’t have to do this” I tried to hide my blush. 

“Oh but I want to” he smiles pulling me closer. 

I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped one arm around his neck while he held my other, and began to dance. 

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” He asks staring into my eyes. 

“Hanson you are too much” I smile resting my head on his chest. 

I wrapped my other arm around his neck, and felt both his hands around my waste. 

His head rested on mine. 

Time suddenly stopped. 

I could hear the sound of his heart beat increase as I was in his arms.

We danced for the rest of the night. 

This was a prom I would never forget.