ms fine

Gentlemen!!!! Listen!!


I am relatively naïve due to my childhood and religious upbringing. Periodically I skim your blogs.. quite educational by the way.. tonight I found a blog of a woman who, according to her Bio, is an amateur porn producer. She sells her Kik, videos, “pillow chats”, clothing.. (SunflowerSara if you want to find her… $50/ month to chat, get pictures, and videos.)


However, this enlightened me about a problem I have. I have well over 20,000 following me.. shocking I know!!! I never imagined or even wanted the attention. If I were paid $50/month by all to whom I give my time now, I would earn over $100,000 a month. 😐


At some point in their relationship with me, I have had Followers…more than I want to quantify…ask me for personal pictures, sexual interests, sexual stories, videos, my number, my Kik, to call me, meet me…. All with me only seeing a cock or abs or reblogs of their porn interests. I recognize that these individuals probably think they are giving compliments.


I think women, such as Ms. Sunflower, have allowed men to become accustomed to rude behavior.


Men. It is not appropriate to walk up to a lady and stick your cock in her face unless you have a contract to pay her for such treatment. Of course you are beautiful men. But, let us ask for it!! Why would a lady want to give you ANYTHING with a sales job of..”your tits are beautiful, do you want to meet?” From a little Orange box or said “Cock Avatar”?


My suggestion.. Read a woman’s bio, read the content of her blog, and then introduce yourself.

 It is totally fine for Ms. Sunflower to run her blog. I hope she is financially and personally very happy. I have female friends here that have stated on their bio to please submit cock pictures and masturbate with them. Again, great for them.


But Gentleman, not EVERY women in an Online environment likes or finds pleasure in those interactions. Be aware of your presentation and interactions as you meet new people. For me, I am busy. Yes, I love sex and am sexual. However, I am not your mistress. I am not a your wife or girlfriend. I am certainly not your prostitute or slut!

This NOT my career - nor will it be. I want to communicate positively with those in my path. But these thoughtless interactions are a drain on my Time, Energy, and Emotions. Improve please!!

Another point Gentlemen, if a woman such as a myself ever does give her personal contact information, exchanges clothing or videos, TREASURE her and treat her well; because she is rare and priceless. Thank for this educational moment.

anonymous asked:

Have you seen all of the posts about fine stud Lexa? Got any fics about that?

Fine Stud Lexa with a side of Babygirl Clarke and Daddy Lexa.

taking control of this kind of moment by Faustkomskaikru
| 1/1 | 2,549 | mature |

Yes, Clarke thinks when she falls asleep, she’s used to these kind of events. There’s a reason she loves going this much.

Or

Fine Stud Lexa gets jealous at one Charity Gala, and Clarke might have done it on purpose.

demand by Skipz12
| 1/1 | 2,296 | mature |

“Take off your clothes Clarke.”

crazy in love by Elly_belly
| 1/1 | 5,819 | explicit |

This is not how Lexa thought her night would end.

Not that she’s complaining, because meeting a frustratingly gorgeous and intriguing blonde has been arguably the best thing that has happened to her in a very long time.

Well, at least until said blonde ended up in Lexa’s bed writhing underneath her. That is the best thing that had happened to her in a very, very long time.

or

a g!p fine stud lexa fic ft. daddy lexa and babygirl clarke

it’s only nature, i live for danger by Minnimodi
| 1/1 | 1,690 | explicit |

Clarke has been sending pictures to Lexa at work all day, and Lexa finally gets home to give Clarke what she so desperately needs.

lay me down tonight, I’m your favorite girl by Remyplurodaun
| 1/1 | 1,473 | explicit |

Lexa and Clarke have some time together after Lexa’s long day at work.

(AKA, another fic where Daddy!Lexa doms Clarke. G!P Lexa as well)

Welcome to the Trigeda Industries, Ms Griffin by commandmetobewell
| 1/1 | 9,084 | explicit |

With the help of a close friend, Clarke manages to land an internship at Trigeda Industries, a multibillion dollar technology corporation, in an effort to pay off her student loans and get a reference for her résumé. What starts out as a seemingly boring job soon takes a sharp turn when she manages to get herself trapped in an elevator with an alluring and confident brunette that is single-handedly the most gorgeous woman she’s ever seen.

So… just who exactly is this mysterious Green Eyes?

or

Clarke unknowingly bangs her boss in an elevator.

Mr. Darcy- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: While undercover at a school in New York, Tom falls for the pretty valedictorian and his partner for an English project.

Word Count: 3070

A/N: 3000 and several months later, I finally published another one shot!!! Yay! I’m not dead yet!

~~~

“I can’t believe it- I’m literally going back to high school.” Tom muttered angrily before biting into his toast for breakfast.

“Hey, you wanted to play Spiderman.” Harrison said, taking a sip of his tea.

“I know, but I didn’t think Marvel would legitimately send me to an American high school.”

As Harrison went to respond, his phone lit up, “Well, I got to go. Have fun at school, Stanley Osterfield.” He ruffled Tom’s hair playfully before leaving the room to answer his phone. Tom let out another huff of annoyance as he finished his meal. He fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror and grabbed his backpack, before heading out the door to his first day at an American high school.

~~~

Your AP Physics C instructor droned on about how magnetic fields are created as you drifted off into space. Just as your eyes were beginning to shut, the door squeaked open and a brown-haired boy walked in.

“I’m sorry. I got lost.” He said, handing Mr. Smith a pass. The teacher glanced down at him, then peered back up at the teenager.

“Transfer, eh?” Mr. Smith tossed the paper on the desk, “Take a seat in the back, next to Lucas.”

“Okay.” The boy said and began to walk to the back of the classroom. You, along with your classmates, stared at him as he walked; all of you wondering how-how he managed to get into the Bronx School of Science and Engineering at this point of the year. No one new had arrived since freshman year, so why suddenly in your senior year is someone knew arriving? He must be brilliant, in order to have bypassed all the tests and the waiting lists. You had a strange feeling about him. He looked all too familiar; when he passed by you and his brown eyes caught yours, you could’ve sworn you’d seen them before.

Your instructor continued with his lecture, acting as if he wasn’t questioning the arrival of a new student.

~~~

Four classes later, you saw him again. The new kid, Stan if you had heard the rumor properly, was in your physics class as well as your AP Literature and Composition class. This time, however, he wasn’t late, which seemed to please Ms. Hall.

“The AP Literature and Composition test is based upon your ability to analyze pieces of literature.” Ms. Hall spoke as she passed around a yellow sheet of paper with black printing on it, “For this project, you will be reading a classic novel and film a short movie based upon it. I will assign you a partner to work with on this project, as well as a book for it.” She then rattled off names in partners, calling you out last, “Y/N and Stanley, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.” You immediately looked over at the new boy. He simply pulled his beanie down lower and kept his head hidden in his arms.

Class continued as normal with no further discussion about the film project. After class, you went over to Ms. Hall’s desk to ask her about your partner.

“Y/N, are you here to ask why I partnered you with the new student?” She said before you managed to get a word out. You nodded sheepishly, “I did it because you are the valedictorian and my brightest student. I know you will do well on the project and I know that you will also manage to help him get comfortable in this school.”

“Okay. I think it will be fine. And, Ms. Hall, I am not valedictorian yet.”

“You’ve always been so modest. You will be valedictorian-I’m quite sure of it.” She smiled at you, “Have a good afternoon.”

“You too, Ms. Hall.” You replied, exiting the classroom. You headed straight for your locker to drop off your textbooks, so that you could head home.

“Excuse me, do you know where the library is?” You heard someone question. You turned around and were met with the eyes of Stanley.

“It’s on the other side of that building. You just walk down that hallway, through both sets of doors, and you’ll be there.” You explained.

“Right. Thank you.” When he turned to leave, you stopped him.

“You’re Stanley, right? The new student?” You said.

“Yes, that’s me.” He turned back around to face you.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, your partner for the English assignment.” You held your hand out for him to shake.

“Stanley Osterfield, but you can call me Stan.” He replied, shaking your hand with a smile.

“What are you off to the library for?”

“Textbooks-and also Pride and Prejudice.”

“If you give me a minute, I’ll walk with you. I need Pride and Prejudice as well.”

“Oh okay.” Stan said, waiting for you as you finished up at your locker.

“I have a copy of it, but I’m afraid my sister took it back to Florida, so I’ll most likely never get it back.”

“So you’ve read it before?” He asked as you both headed down the hallway towards the library.

“Yes, it’s one of my favorites. I’ve always been a fan of classical literature, especially novels from the U.K.”

“Have you ever been?”

“To the U.K.?” You questioned and he nodded, “Never, but I’m hoping to study at University College London next year.”

“UCL? Isn’t it hard to get into?”

“I suppose, but I’m hopeful.”

“Well, you’ll love it there. I’ve been to the U.K. quite a few times and it’s great.”

“Do you have family there?” You asked and Tom laughed with a nod.

“Yes, yes I do.” He responded as he held the library door open for you.

~~~

“So, Stan, how was your first day of school?” Harrison asked when the front door of his shared apartment with Tom opened that afternoon. He had been sitting on the couch, watching TV while eating chips.

“Boring and long.” He stated, dropping his backpack and books off on the dining room table.

“Make any friends?”

“No; besides, I’m only here for a month.” He stole the bag of chips from Harrison on his way to his room.

“What are all the numbers on your hand then?” Harrison called after Tom.

“Homework.” He responded as he shut the door between them. Tom looked down at his hand where the numbers were written. He hadn’t meant to make friends, but he somehow had become acquainted with you on his first day. He didn’t refuse when you offered to give him your number, so that you could communicate for the project. He continued to tell himself that it was for a project and not for any sort of relationship.

~~~

A few weeks later:

“Stan, I’m serious. The project is due next week and we still have to film and edit it. When will you be open?” You questioned as the two of you walked down the school hallway. Tom kept joking around and you could see that he was far from taking this project seriously.

“I can do whenever. I haven’t got any plans this weekend.”

“Ok, so we’ll film at my place tomorrow. And then you are going to study for that physics test.”

“But physics is boring.” He whined as you opened your locker.

“Oh well. You need to pass this test.”

“But it’s so hard. I don’t understand anything.”

“I really have no clue how you got into this school. You don’t know a thing about science at all.”

“I know Newton’s three laws.”

“Stan, everyone knows that.” You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m an idiot, but that’s why I have you-the smartest girl in school- to help me.” He smiled as the bell rang.

“I’ll see you in second period.”

“See you then.” He replied as he took off to make it to class. You sighed as you closed your locker. At least it was a Friday.

~~~

“Are we doing British accents or not?”

“I can work with British.” Tom said, switching into his normal accent, as you two carried on up a small hill, where you’d begin filming.

“You definitely have spent a lot of time in England for your accent to be that good. I don’t know many Americans who can talk like that.” You laughed.

“I’ve had practice. Your turn.”

“Yeah, I think we’re going to stay with normal American accents because my British accent is terrible.” You stated, setting up the camera on a tripod.

“Alright, we’ll do American accents. Might make it less legit.” Tom said, making you shrug.

“I just want to get this over with. Ready, Mr. Darcy?” You asked.

“Always, Miss Bennet.”

“Let’s start it then.” You pressed play on the camera and got into position in front of Tom.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You said.

“Nor I. My aunt-”

“Yes, she was here.”

“How could I ever make amends for such behavior?”

“After what you have done for Lydia and I suspect Jane also, it is I who should be making amends.” Tom stepped closer to you, prepared for Darcy’s speech.

“You must know, surely you must know, it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I’d scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.” He stepped closer to you once more, “If, however, your feelings have changed, I would have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love… I love you. And I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.” He delivered the lines with such ease and fluidity that you stood frozen, staring into his big brown eyes, completing forgetting about the rest of the world.

“Y/N.” He mumbled, causing you to snap out of your trance.

“Right! My line!”

“Were you distracted?” Tom teased as you went to stop the camera.

“No, what makes you say that?”

“You just kind of zoned out staring at me. Does that mean I’m a good Darcy?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Let’s run it again.”

“Can you handle that?”

“I’m fine. I just forgot my line. That’s all.”

You ran through the scene a few more times and each time you were amazed by Tom. As you were packing up you camera, your stomach growled at you.

“Are you hungry? We can go get something to eat.” Tom asked, putting on his sunglasses, despite it being overcast.

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“I know this amazing taco place not too far from here.”

“Sounds good to me.” You shrugged, zipping up your camera bag. Tom took your hand, leading you through the park to the taco place, which turned out to be a taco truck.

“When you said amazing, I was thinking fancy restaurant.” You laughed, taking a bite of your taco.

“Is this not fancy?” Tom asked, accidentally slipping into his British accent.

“I still can’t believe you can speak with a good British accent.” You stated.

“I’ll have to take you there someday.”

“Take me where?”

“England.”

“I can’t afford a spontaneous trip to England, Stan.”

“True, because you’ll be going there next year.”

“I haven’t gotten my acceptance letter yet. I’m starting to get worried.”

“If you don’t get in to UCL, that’s okay. You’ve got a handful of other brilliant colleges waiting for you.”

“I know, but UCL has always been my dream.”

“You’ll be fine. I believe in you.” He encouraged as your phone went off.

“Sorry, Stan, I have to go. My mom wants me home.” You stated, standing up to leave

“I’ll walk you home.” He replied, following your actions. Tom walked beside you the entire walk home as you two continued your chat.

“Well, this is me.” You said, “Thank you fro tonight, Stan. I had fun.”

“Me too.” He replied. You both awkwardly stood there for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move. You turned towards the door.

“I should go.”

“Wait.” He called out and you turned back around to him. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I like you too, Stan.”

“No,” he said, getting closer to you, “I really like you.” He repeated, leaning in to kiss you.

~~~

“How was filming?” Your sister asked you when you walked in the door.

“It was great.” You smiled, “We got everything done.”

“Seems like something more happened.” She said.

“Nothing happened. What are you watching?” You asked, looking at the TV.

“Captain America: Civil War.”

“Is Thor in it?” You asked. You’re not one to be big on superheroes, but you did have a soft spot for the God of thunder.

“No, but Spiderman and Black Panther are in it.”

“I didn’t think Spiderman was an Avenger.”

“It’s a long story. He’s about to pop up, wanna watch?”

“For a few, but I’ve got chores.” You said, sitting beside her on the couch as she played it. “Queens” was shown in big, bold letters as a song began to play.

“How was school today?” A woman off-screen asked as the camera focused on the back of a teenage boy.

“Okay. This crazy car parked outside-” he cut himself short as he saw whatever was behind the camera. You didn’t care about the plot-you cared about the character.

“Stan?”

“What?” Your sister asked.

“That’s Stan.” You said in disbelief.

“Stan? Stan who?”

“Stanley Osterfield. He’s new to my school and we’re partners for an English project.”

“That’s Tom Holland-not Stanley Osterfield.”

“They look the same and speak the same.” You pulled out your phone and searched up the unknown actor. “I don’t believe this.”

“What?”

“They are literally the same person. He’s faking it. He’s British and he’s 20.”

“Hey, Y/N, look what came today?” Your mom said, showing you an envelope with the letters UCL in bold.

“It came!” You shrieked, discarding your phone to grab the letter. You opened it with shaking hands and began to read it.

“I got in! I got in! UCL accepted me!” You exclaimed eagerly.

~~~

“Hey, Y/N.” Tom said Monday morning when he stopped by your locker, following his routine. You stayed silent, deciding to ignore him.

“I heard you got into UCL. Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks.” You said flatly, slamming your locker shut and beginning to walk away.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, chasing after you. When you remained silent, he questioned you more, “Is this about Saturday?”

“What are you doing here?” You replied, halting and turning to him.

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing here? At the Bronx School of Science and Engineering? You’re not looking for a career in science or engineering. You’ve already got a career, don’t you, Tom?”

“Y/N, I have no clue what you’re talking ab-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I know you’re not Stanley Osterfield and I know you’re not even American. You’ve been lying to me-all this time.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“This far? You’re the one who kissed me the other night.” You were furious at ho he remained calm.

“I know. I’m really sorry, just please understand I never meant to hurt you. I wasn’t lying to you when I told you how I felt about you. My name and my accent was all I ever lied about. Please, believe me.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore. I need time. Please, St-Tom, just leave me alone for a little bit.”

“I will, but please just know two things: first, tomorrow, I am going back to London and my time here will be up; and second, I love you and, as cheesy as it is, I never wish to be parted from you. I’ll leave you alone now. Goodbye, Y/N.” Tom walked away in defeat as you stood there trying to compose yourself.

~~~

The next morning, you received a text message from an unknown number, reading: ‘Y/N, you don’t know me, but I am Harrison Osterfield and, as Tom’s best friend, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ve known Tom for many years and he’s not one to easily fall in love, but, somehow, he fell in love with you quickly. His intentions were originally to witness a New York high school first hand; then that all changed with you, on the very first day. I just wanted you to know that Tom loves everything about you. Our flight to London leaves at 9, but below is our flat address here in New York, in case you wanted to say goodbye to him.’

You sat still for a minute, deciding if you wanted to go see him off or not. Looking over at your bedside table, you saw your UCL acceptance letter sitting on top of Pride and Prejudice.

“How are you holding up, Y/N?” Your mom asked, walking into your room.

“I don’t know what to do. For the first time in my life, I’m utterly clueless. I’m upset that he didn’t tell me the truth, but I think I love him, mom.”

“Elizabeth Bennet gave Mr. Darcy another chance. Maybe Tom is your Mr. Darcy.”

“His flight is leaving soon, but I’ve got school.” You told her.

“Quit making excuses and go. Go find your Darcy.” She said and you smiled, racing out of the house.

You arrived at the complex and breathlessly knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened to a surprised Tom.

“Y/N, what’re you doing here?” He asked.

“I came to stop my Darcy from leaving me.” You said, causing a silly smile to form on his face.

“Your Darcy?”

“If you’ll still accept me as your Elizabeth, that is.”

“Your affections and wishes have changed?”

“Very much so.” You said, taking his hands in yours, “You’re hands are cold.” He laughed in reply.

“Are you two going to continue being nerds or are you going to kiss?”

“That’s Harrison.”

“I know.” You laughed, “And he’s right. We should kiss.”

“Yes we should.” Tom said, before giving you a kiss.

AA6 post DLC Headcanon

Phoenix: “Is Ms. Oldbag fine?”

Miles: “What?”

Phoenix: “She’s still going to your office, isn’t she?”

Miles: “Nnghooh… I-I don’t want to think about it.”

Phoenix: “Well, just tell her you are gay, so she’ll stop being around you.”

Miles: “What?! Why should I tell such a thing? Rather, I’ll try to explain her the truth: I am not interest in romance and marriage.”

Phoenix: “That’s definitely not going to work.”

Miles: “Uh? How can you be so sure?”

Phoenix: “You’ve already told me you’re not interested in romance and marriage, but I’m still around you.”

Miles: “W-what do you mean?”

Phoenix: “Ha ha ha, nothing. Just kidding. You’re my best friend, I’m not going to propose to you.”

Miles: “I do hope so. If you started to court me like Ms. Oldbag does, and my opinion about marriage didn’t work, I’d be forced to take your previous advice and tell you I’m gay.”

Phoenix: “…”

Miles: “…”

Phoenix: “…”

Miles: “………………… FORGET WHAT I SAID. NOW.”

bval-1  asked:

Hi I saw your prompt post :) can you do Darcy/Steve please

Pairing: Darcy/Steve

Word Count: 274

Prompt: Person who needs protecting

Tags:  Bodyguard AU, No Powers AU, Bodyguard!Steve, Pre-relationship, Mutual Pining, Mutual Idiots

Warnings: None


Darcy’s heart was still racing.  

That guy had straight up tried to kill her.  Kill her dead.  

And Steve had just…jumped right in front of her.  He was prepared to take a bullet for her.  Literally.  Dude must be getting paid the big bucks.  

And the information she was carrying must be worth even more.  

The scenery passed them by in a blur.  The speedometer read ninety.  

She reached over, speaking before she touched him.  “Steve?”  Her fingers brushed against his forearm and he turned briefly to acknowledge her.  

“Ms. Lewis?”  

She sighed.  “You almost took a bullet for me.  I think we’re ready for first names.”  

“It’s easier if I keep it impersonal.”  

“Easier for who?”  

Another stiff glance in her direction told her exactly who.  

Bristling slightly, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Anyway, Rogers.  You’re going ninety.”  

“Oh…” The car slowed a little, down to about seventy-five, which felt like a crawl after the speed they’d been going.   “We’re going to drive through the night.  We’ll stop tomorrow afternoon in Tulsa so I can sleep.”  

“I can take a shift if you’d rather–”  

“Absolutely not.  I’m driving.”  

“Steve…I can totally–”  

“I’m.  Driving.  Ms. Lewis,” he punctuated.  

“Fine.  Whatever.” She turned away from him, pulling her feet up into the seat with her.  Petty, she knew, but if impersonal was what he wanted, it’s what he was getting.  

It took her a while to actually drift off, but she started pretending long before.  

Which was why she absolutely felt his fingers brush her cheek when he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.  

Impersonal.  Yeah.  This was SO impersonal.  

ivy-raven  asked:

So, a prompt! First, do you write for IronPanther and StarkQuill pairings? If yes, I might be back with more prompts for them, but I'd really like Stuckony where HYDRA sent the WS to kill Tony before launching Project Insight, so he can't somehow stop it at the last minute, as heroes are wont to do. He's sent UC in SI, because that's the only way to get close, but Tony, exhausted, trips and twists his ankle in front of him and dozens of witnesses, so he can't kill him yet. (1/2)

He’s forced to pick him up and take him to the med bay, being the security guard and visualy strongest. But he’s desperatly touch starved, and really like touching/carrying Tony, and he smelled so good and was really nice to him, so he decides Tony must absolutely never die and tells him everything, declaring himself his new bodyguard. Steve/Tony is established, and both are aware of Bucky’s feelings for Tony (before and after regaining memories) so they invite him into their relationship. 2/3

And Bucky is super confused, like, punk, we’re already in a relationship?? Keep up? And picks Tony up and takes his two fellas on a date! - ok, that was super long and detailed, sorry about that! I can just imagine it and it’s so cute! You don’t have to include all the elements, I realize it’s a lot, I just really need touch-starved Bucky imprining on Tony and the ‘we’re already dating, punk’ scene! Thanks so much! (3/3)

Haha, this is adorable! How sweet. :) I do not write StarkQuill. In fact I’ve never even seen Guardians of the Galaxy! I should get on that, haha. I can write IronPanther though. I hope this lives up to your expectations! Keep an eye out for under the cut!

This work can also be found on my Ao3 here.


The Asset had barely even touched his gun when the Mark tripped and went down in a flail of limbs and loose papers. He had to fight a sigh. Some might think the clumsy marks would be easier to kill, because it could be made to look like an accident, but actually it was much harder—they were more likely to accidentally dodge attempts on their lives.

The Mark sat up, looking shocked. “Ow.”

“Sir?” one of the secretaries called, standing from her desk. “Mr. Stark, are you okay?”

“I think so?” The Mark pressed his palms to his eyes, letting out a sigh that betrayed deep exhaustion. “Yeah.” He took her hands when she offered them to him and pulled himself up, letting out a little noise of pain as he finally stood. “Ow!”

The secretary began patting him down, concerned. “What? What’s wrong?”

The Mark batted her hands away. “I’m fine, Ms. Carmichael. Just a twisted ankle.”

Keep reading

Hi. I’m not sure if you write SuperCat, but I sure need Cat Grant to get herself back to National City, or at least be involved from afar. Could you please write something where it’s Cat who comforts Kara after Homecoming? Many thanks.

^^ prompt above from @statuepuppie. Refers to this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9122290/chapters/21551657

Maggie called Cat Grant when Livewire was on the loose, because her girlfriend’s kid sister needed her then. And she’s calling Cat Grant again now, because Kara needs her now.

She hadn’t expected the Queen of All Media to save her number, but Cat picks up on the first ring and addresses Maggie by name.

“Detective Sawyer, tell me she’s fine and that you’re simply wasting my very precious time for the sake of a social call.”

Her voice is clipped and just on this side of professional, but Maggie easily detects the concern underneath it.

“She’s fine, Ms. Grant, she’s fine.”

She hears Cat sigh and she bites her lip. “Then what, pray tell, are you calling me for?”

“She’s fine, Ms. Grant, but she… she needs you.”

She doesn’t specify who: Kara or Supergirl. She knows she doesn’t need to.

There’s a long pause, and Maggie is about to ask if she’s still there.

“What happened?” Cat asks before she can, and her voice is thick.

“Best for her to tell you details, but the short of it, Alex’s father came back from the dead only to sort of… well, betray everyone. And she’s in this new relationship that she thinks is going to make her feel at least something, and – “

“I’m getting the next flight out. Thank you, Detective Sawyer.”

Maggie expects that to be it, but Cat’s still on the line. A brief pause. Then:

“Alex. Kara’s sister. Your girlfriend, correct? Is she alright? She… from my experiences with her, she’s a brave woman. And Kara idolizes her. You’re taking good care of her, too, I trust?”

Maggie smiles softly. “I’m doing my best with both Danvers girls, ma’am, but I think Kara could use a more familiar face than mine.”

“Well, as I said, I’ll arrange for a sitter for Carter and be on the next flight out. Thank you, Detective. For taking care of those girls. Don’t forget to be good to yourself, too.”

This time, the line does disconnect before Maggie can say any more.

But she smiles, because Cat Grant is on her way to Kara.

She makes sure Alex knows to keep Mon-El away from Kara’s apartment that night. J’onn invents work for him, gladly.

They don’t need a body to be dropped in Kara’s apartment by one Cat Grant.

The paperwork alone would be more trouble than it’d be worth.

The sharp rap on the door makes Kara think of Maggie, so she doesn’t bother checking with her x-ray vision, doesn’t even bother untangling from her blankets or putting down her pint of mint chocolate chip.

“It’s open,” she calls heartlessly, wondering if Maggie is looking for Alex or if she’s looking for another round of speed stacking to take Kara’s mind off things.

“Well, Keira, I have to say, I expected your apartment to be an explosion of millennial mess and absurd color, but I have to admit, it has a certain charm to it.”

The ice cream scatters and Kara falls ungracefully off the couch in a tangled mess of blankets with a series of loud shrieks.

If Cat is at all surprised, she hides it well, but the sparkle in her eyes and the smile tugging at her lips give her away the moment before she springs into action.

“Are you alright?” she rushes forward, just in time for Kara to unravel herself from the blanket and spring to her feet.

She has to remind herself strongly of earth physics as, pretenses and professionalism be damned, she wraps Cat it a full-bodied hug.

“Ms. Grant,” she breathes over her shoulder, and Cat freezes for only a moment before fully returning the embrace, fingers grasping for dear life onto the back of Kara’s shirt.

Cat is the first to pull back, and she wonders if her own tears are reflected in Kara’s blue eyes. She wonders how she ever forgot quite how crystalline they are.

“I hear you’re having a rough time, Kiera, and if the pint of – is that mint chocolate chip? – is any indication, my source is quite correct – “

“Snapper’s been calling you about me? But he’s been liking my work, he – “

Cat is tsking, now, and moving around the living room, collecting the ice cream and spoon and blanket, rearranging everything into its former semi-order.

“Not Snapper, dear. Your sister’s girlfriend. Seems to think you would benefit from my presence.”

Kara stiffens and her eyes widen and Cat remembers how much she’s missed watching Kara adjust her glasses like this. “Ms. Grant, you didn’t need to come all this way, I – “

“Oh nonsense, Keira. What have I told you? You need to learn, competent and efficient and brilliant as you are, when to ask for help. You’re entitled to do so, you know. And you’re entitled to receive it.”

Tears swim in Kara’s steady eyes, and she’s forgotten how to form words.

Ms. Grant, back in National City. Ms. Grant, in her apartment. Ms. Grant, seeing her be a complete and utter wreck.

“Ms. Grant, really, I – “ She tries to object, just once more, but she can’t even get that far. Because her voice cracks and her knees give out and she collapses back onto the couch, hugging herself because she’s completely lost sense of what is real.

“Oh, Kara,” Cat breathes, and the sound of her name on Cat’s lips works its way into her skin, through her muscles, into her bones, into her bloodstream. Into her heart.

“I’m here, Kara. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Kara chokes, and Cat just nods, sitting softly and putting a hesitant hand on Kara’s knee. Kara takes it immediately, and a soft smile flits over Cat’s face.

They don’t talk about Jeremiah, and they don’t talk about Mon-El.

They talk about CatCo and they talk about Carter and Cat’s mother and Alex and Maggie and Kara cries without words and Cat comforts without words and Kara sits up straighter and cries less and less throughout the night.

Cat even shares a spoonful of her ice cream, and it’s this, more than anything, that makes Kara smile. That makes Kara feel so, so loved.

To make Kara remember what it was like when her life was like this.

To make her realize what she has to do to get back to that.

She makes a note to thank Maggie in the morning, but for now, sitting on her couch with Cat Grant and laughing about Snapper, she doesn’t want the morning to come. Not just yet.