the way we wore: black style then

starry--knight  asked:

I keep reading 'voltron pjo au' as voltron pyjamas au 😂 SO COULD I REQUEST VOLTRON PJO PYJAMAS PARTY?

HOW DARE YOU KELSEY LMAO! But I forgive you cause this is cute.

[Voltron PJO AU] Keith was on his way to the arena to start his day when Lance bumped into him. Upon seeing the son of Poseidon, Keith’s mood turned sour but then he remembered that Lance and him were friends now. So, his frown disappeared immediately.

“Oh hey, Mullet Head!” Lance greeted, as if shocked to see him. “I was just giving out stuff to the gang and here.” He handed him a handmade flyer. “I’ll see you then! Have to go and see my sunshine. That’s Hunk by the way. In case you didn’t know. Shiro’s at the arena and he’s looking for you!” 

Keith did know about Lance and Hunk. It wasn’t even a secret at how much PDA they were doing. He looked at the flyer and he furrowed his eyebrows.

PYJAMAS PARTY AT CABIN 13! (Keith’s Cabin) 
Saturday Night! 
Wear your cute pyjamas and bring snacks to share! 

“Lance, what the—,” he looked up to see he was standing alone. The other boy no longer in sight. 

How the hell was there an event that was going to be held in his cabin without his knowledge? What kind of crappy organizer was Lance? Besides, he didn’t even agree to any of this.

Pocketing the paper, he headed to the arena and saw Shiro. The son of Zeus spotted him and his whole face just lit up. Dammit. Now Keith couldn’t help but smile back at his boyfriend too.

He was about to tell Shiro about how ridiculous Lance was when Shiro waved a paper at him, grinning. “I’m so happy we’re having a pyjamas party, Keith! I’ve never had one and it seems exciting!”

Keith deflated. Fricking Lance. He planned all of this. Now there was no way he could cancel the party he had no idea of. Shiro was excited and who was Keith to kill that excitement? 

Saturday night arrived faster than Keith had hoped. The next thing he knew, he was making sure his cabin looked presentable. There was a knock on his door and Shiro was on the other side when he opened it.

Shiro’s smile on his face turned into a frown when he took notice of what Keith was wearing. “Why aren’t you in your pjs?”

“I don’t have one,” Keith deadpanned.

“Liar,” Shiro rolled his eyes, letting himself in. “I know you have pyjamas, Keith. Don’t even deny it. You wear them when you sleepover at my cabin.” The older boy headed towards his wardrobe and checked himself. “Here we go! Look at this. Black pjs with daggers. Your favourite since they’re so soft and comfy!” 

Keith scowled. He loved those pyjamas but there was no way the others were going to see him in them over his dead body.

They saw him wear the black patterned pyjamas and Lance was holding back his laughter while Hunk, and Allura cooed. Pidge however, was checking out the different styles of daggers printed on them. Everyone wore their night wear as they prepared their mattresses on the floor.

“There’s no point of pyjamas party if we don’t sleep on the floor, Keith. What the hell is wrong with you?” Lance was scandalized when Keith offered the other beds for them in his cabin.

“It’s all about the bonding, man. We have to be all cuddly when we sleep together,” Hunk added as a matter-of-factly. 

“Awww, Keith is this your first time?” Pidge teased.

“It’s my first time too!” Shiro said, raising a finger.

“All the better then,” Allura clapped her hands excitedly. “We have so much to do during this sleepover party!”

“It’s a Pyjamas Party, Allura.”

“Same banana, Lance.”

“This is the shittiest game ever created,” Keith grumbled, hands crossed.

“You’re just saying that cause you’re a sissy!” Lance retorted. “Everyone loves the game of truth or dare! It’s a classic game!”

“Says no one ever,” Keith rolled his eyes. Then he saw Shiro smiling at him.

“I volunteer as tribute,” Shiro said. “I’ll take the first one.”

“Okay, Mr. Zeus Junior,” Pidge smirked. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Shiro answered with determination.

“I dare you to give Keith a striptease.” Pidge challenged and then everyone was Oooooh-ing.

Keith’s eyes widened in shock. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT TO HIM!!!” 

Shiro flushed, his body was frozen and Keith started to panic. 

“Look what you did to him! YOU BROKE MY BOYFRIEND!” Keith turned to Shiro and shook him. The rest was just laughing so hard while Shiro was heating up and Keith didn’t know how to fix it. 

Thoughts on Tony Awards 2017

Primarily focused on Musical Theater….

I’m sad that “Great Comet” didn’t get more, to be honest. Purely from a technical perspective, this show was a marvel. So I would have loved to see Best Orchestrations, Best Costumes, and Best Director. Rachel Chavkin took a story that seemed nearly impossible to make and made it relatable and fulfilling. It’s really weird, but in an soaring way- and I hope that more shows have the nerve that this show has. It was the only show I saw this season, and it was a ridiculously unique theatrical experience. It’s also a shame the telecast didn’t highlight Deneé Benton’s voice. What an amazing gift. And her performance of Natasha- at once naive and innocent but also dangerous and flirtatious- was a surprisingly fantastic female character full of “life and mischief.” We need more like them, and more shows that place them at the front.

Dear Evan Hansen. I get it; at times it highlights the worst tendencies of young adult novels. It’s frustrating. Poorly plotted moments, like “To Break In a Glove” (which basically screams, “It’s a metaphor!!!”), to Alana’s broad racial characterization (her blackness seems to inform her identity to the point of stereotype), dim the moments of pure joy and despair into cliché. But what a carefully understood story otherwise. The startling emotional intelligence of the show’s lyrics by Pasek and Paul shine through the most. Forget all the social commentary of social media and social anxiety and depression. This is a story about one person, and that one person was completely brought to life. That this show resonates with audiences is no surprise- it is deeply empathetic to the point of pushing you completely down, but always pushing forward.

I’ll admit to not having listened to / read the other musicals. I’m immediately skeptical of Come From Away; whole-hearted goodness in the face of tragedy is certainly a fine message, but its celebration of Canada and a specific group of people seem to be the message it really wants to send. There’s nothing really wrong about this- it just seems more like an advertisement than a show. “Me and the Sky” is a lovely song, but do I need a sustained, winking “American Airlines” in the middle of the song? The show’s broad commercialism, in the face of 9/11, seems to work as a message of hope. And then at moments like this, it feels trivial.

Edit: From some of the comments here, Come From Away is apparently a really special, communal experience that isn’t really quite captured in the recording or promos. Which I have to say, is probably true. As someone who hasn’t seen that show, I’m not judging the show, just the concept and what I’ve seen at the Tonys. Of course I would die to have a ticket- who wouldn’t? If you want to share your experience with this show, and prove my original skepticism wrong, please message me or comment. Let’s start a dialogue! 

I’m sure Groundhog Day was a fine musical, but like “Matilda,” I’m sure it did a great job of bringing the story and bringing out the strengths to the stage while also not being absolutely astonishing. Groundhog Day is one of the perfect mergings of concept and execution in film, so I’m happy they found a way for it to work on the stage. The choice for the telecast was a less energized than lovely. Probably a direction the whole show wants to follow- and this is one that understands its boundaries and I can respect.

Assorted notes on the rest:

  • It’s absolutely ludicrous that “Sweat” is Lynn Nottage’s debut on Broadway. A two-time Pulitzer-prize winner just now on Broadway? It shows the conservatism of producing works by black and female artists.
  • “Penny in my Pocket” from “Hello Dolly” was a fine song. But to have Bette Midler walk around stage all night taunting us of her lack of performance was really just upsetting. Mostly to the chorus members of that show; they deserve a time to shine.
  • Miss Saigon.” You lumbering beast of a musical. I am so happy to see Asians on the stage of the world. But there has to be more than this for us. There has to be more, and it’s up to Asian writers like me to make sure that not every Asian woman has to play a prostitute to be on Broadway.
  • The staging of “Waving Through a Window” I found at once fascinating but also a little… obvious? It seemed to say to the audience, “This is a show about social media!” instead of having them just listen to the lyrics and actually understand the acute longing of Evan. But overall I’m totally down for Michael Grief’s direction. He seems like someone very aware of the message of his shows, and that’s a wonderful thing to see.
  • I would absolutely love to see every single Best Play nominee. They all look like achievements in the art form.
  • Falsettos” was a nice reunion, although it was frustrating that the only lesbian kiss on national television was for “Great Comet” and not this or “Indecent.” Thank God Christian Borle wore a wig. Those 80s outfits were killing it. Thanks PBS for taking care of the community with the theatrical release.
  • War Paint? Meh. Clearly a star vehicle, but with the distinctly modern blend of music seen in the Best Musical nominees, this one seems to be harkening on a musical theater style that is dated. We’re living in the era of “Fun Home” and “Hamilton.” The entire genre is shifting.
  • Why was the one black character of Bandstand an announcer with one line? Aren’t we past this? And from a creative from Hamilton no less?
  • Kevin Spacey was fine as a host. The knowing meta thing wore off way too quickly, but I do appreciate the focus on all the nominees instead of the Something-Rotten-musical-mishmash of last year’s opening number.
  • I sincerely hope the Great Comet stays on Broadway for a few years. It’s truly an unparalleled show in terms of its fearlessness in just going to its concept. I think that even if you don’t like the music, or think it achieved something meaningful, you can at least admire its creative ambition.
  • Thanks to @zartharn for watching with me! “And the Tony goes to… Michael Arden’s revival of Spring Awakening!”
The Darkness In Me (Part 12)

Thank you all for every like, reblog and reply. I really appreciate it! 
If you want to be on the taglist send me a message ♥♥♥

Summary: From the outside you seem to have everything. Everything other girls want to be. Good looking, beautiful and an amazing singer. But no one sees what really blooms inside you. The darkness is about to consume you every day a little bit more. Can this handsome stranger who was there when you needed him the most also save you from the darkness lurking inside you?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, violence

Word Count: 1261


◄•••  Part 11          Part 12          Part 13 •••►

Bucky stayed true to his words. I needed the energy from my little nap not only for round two, but also round three and four. Now every single step reminds me of the passionate activities I had with him.

Today was the masquerade ball and the Avengers Tower was crowded with people, trying desperately to satisfy Tony Stark’s extraordinary imagination of a perfect ball. Good luck with that.

After breakfast Wanda and Natasha took me away from Bucky for some much needed girl time. Our dresses were already in Wanda’s room. Natasha made sure we had all kind of cosmetic products and makeup we needed to get ourselves ready for the masquerade tonight.

While we started painting our nails in the same color as our dresses, Wanda and Nat questioned me non-stop about my night with Bucky. “No! I’m not gonna tell you any details. Bucky and I had amazing sex. That’s all you gonna hear from me. The rest stays private between Bucky and me. Sorry, girls.” “Yeah, because your actions of last night were sooo private. We all could hear you two going at it for hours!” Natasha stated with a dirty smirk. I could feel myself getting hot from all the embarrassment, but also bursted out laughing along with my two best friends.

Tons of makeup and hours later Wanda put the last strands of my [Y/H/C] hair in loose curls, falling elegantly around my face. “All done! Now let’s put on our masks and let tons of men fall on their knees in front of us.” Wanda said seductively wiggling with one of her perfect curved eyebrows. “I only need one man on his knees.” “Oh, we know [Y/N]”, Natasha laughed out.

We stepped side by side in front of Wanda’s huge mirror. We looked stunning to say the least and that still would be an understatement.

“Girls you are amazing! For the first time I feel beautiful next to the two of you.” “No way! You look always beautiful, [Y/N]. What you see in the mirror is all YOU.”

After studying my features a while longer in the reflection, I realised Wanda was indeed right. They only accentuated my natural beauty with a little bit of smokey eyeshadow and dark red flat lipstick, making my lips look more plump and full.

My black mask was only bedecked with golden glitter, while the green mask from Natasha and the violet one from Wanda were decorated with feathers. They both looked a little bit more girly in general than me. To say it with Natasha’s words, my whole outfit screamed SEX.

It was finally time to show ourselves at the masquerade ball. The ball itself already started an hour ago, but Nat’s golden rule for attending any kind of event, was never showing up until it really began.

The three of us stepped together out of the elevator and were immediately greeted with music playing in the background and people talking everywhere, gathered together in small groups. I was instantly enamored with the different outfits and masks of the guests. The whole party area was decorated elegantly in black, white and silver. Everywhere I looked it either glowed or glittered in silver.  

I spotted Bucky in the company of Steve and Sam at the other end of the room, a glass of probably champagne in hand. His eyes were fixated on me. He bit his lip seductively while looking my body up and down. He sent me a wink along with a sexy smirk of his full lips.

As always Bucky was handsome as hell. His red and gold mask fitted perfectly to my color theme. He wore a black suit along with a black shirt under, the last buttons open, showing more skin he usually does in public. His hair was styled back showing all of his beautiful face, his cheekbones seemed even sharper accentuated by the mask. When I stood before him I could get lost in his sparkling blue eyes the way he looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in his world.

“You look ravishing, [Y/N].” He kissed me on the lips, longer than he typically did when we were in public. “You don’t look bad yourself, Sargeant.” The effect of hearing his rank showing instantly in his now lust filled eyes. “Would you like to dance, doll?” Bucky asked charmingly, offering me his flesh hand. “I would love to.” I said smiling widely, but not like he suspected, took his metal hand and dragged him to the dancefloor after me.

Many people, especially girls, were staring at Bucky and me dancing. I could almost hear their thoughts about Bucky, because of the way they shamelessly checked him out. Well he was recognised as the Winter Soldier, because of his displayed metal hand and he was really attractive after all. I couldn’t really blame them for drooling over him, but still could feel a pang of jealousy flowing through my body.

Bucky tilted my face up, pecking my lips tenderly. My jealousy was washed away in an instant when I stared into Bucky’s piercing grey-blue eyes. They were filled with nothing but love. “No need to be insecure or jealous, darling. You are the most beautiful woman in this room. What am I saying?! The most beautiful woman in the whole universe!”

“Bucky!” I giggled embarrassed at his declaration. “What? It’s true”, he said with a straight face and steady voice. “Oh, shut up and dance with me you old sap! Let’s enjoy ourselves.” Bucky knew right away I only changed the subject , because I felt uneasy about his compliments. Probably there would never be a time where I wouldn’t feel insecure. Eric made sure of that.

Bucky and I swayed gracefully over the dancefloor, dancing the night away together. He never once left my side, his flesh hand always pressed securely against my lower back.

“I need to go to the restrooms for a minute. Would you order us some drinks in the meantime?” I whispered to Bucky. “Sure. Don’t let me wait too long for you.” He winked, before making his way through the party guests to the bar.

I checked my appearance in the mirror over the sink. Makeup and hair were still in place. Satisfied I left the restroom only to get in contact with a firm chest. “I’m sorry.” I immediately told the stranger that held me by my arms to prevent me from stumbling back.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. You know it takes a lot more to sweep me off my feet.” My entire body froze, my mind went blank and I was unable to breath anymore. I could never forget that voice, not even if I wanted to. It haunted me in every single nightmare. Against my will I looked up.

A smirk on his lips he studied me from bottom to top, taking his mask off with an evil glint evident in his dark eyes. “E-eric …” I stuttered weakly, my voice barely audible. Fear was crawling through me, completely paralyzing me.

“Did you miss me, beautiful?” Not expecting a reply or giving me time to answer, he grabbed me by my hair and pressed me brutally against the wall. Blood was dripping down my nose and lips and my vision started to became blurred.

The last words my mind could process, before I got unconscious, were making my worst nightmare come to life. “We’re gonna have so much fun together, [Y/N]. Just like the good old days.”

PART 13 •••►



In-School Session (Harry Styles dirty imagine)

A/N: Just something I’ve been working on! Hope you horny bitches enjoy it, haha! 

Send me in some requests! IT WILL MAKE THE BOYS LOVE YOU! I WILL LOVE YOU. x

I huffed and grabbed my books out of my locker, for my first period class. It was Monday, so its already a bad start. I also have Physics first. I HATE my teacher, and I HATE Harry Styles, my lab partner.

Harry Styles was the school ‘cool kid’. He had all the friends, teachers hated him, and always tried to get him in trouble, reckon it didn’t work, but anyway, and all of the girls wanted him. I can’t lie, he is hot. You could get lost in his deep, green orbs. When he stared at you, you could really feel it. He was muscular, and very fit. He went to the gym almost everyday, and I found that extremely sexy. Though I would never dare tell him that. Despite the fact that I hate him, I would still fuck him.

No problem.

I walked into class, when Mrs. Francelas looked my way.

“Good, you’re not late, for once.” She more so muttered the last part to herself. I rolled my eyes, and went to go take my seat. Good, I thought to myself. Harry isn’t here. 

Soon enough class started. We were about a half hour into the course, when the door flew open, to reveal a sexy Harry Styles. He wore tight, tight black pants, and a low cut black t-shirt, that looked great on him. He neck was perfectly defined, and you could see some of his chest tattoos. They were such a turn on. His curls were swooped to the side, as usual, and had a few pimples, but I thought it was rather cute. Perfect guys were boring. His green eyes were dark, with the way the light shone on them, and it made him look do-able. I would have fucked him right now. My eyes soon fell to his lips. I wish they hadn’t. His red, plump, kissable lips were slightly parted while he was listening to the teacher talk, and his front tooth came down on his lip as he bit it.

Fuck, that was hot.

His brows furrowed in concentration as he was listening to her.

It was, well…sexy. What more could I say?

I couldn’t help but imagine what his lips would feel like on my clit. His tongue deep inside me, as his long fingers moved in, and out…in, and out…

I could feel my panties getting wet, so I immediately stopped thinking about that, and tried to focus on my work.

While they were talking, I caught him sneak a few glances at me. At first, I thought he was just looking at his seat, longing to sit down. But then, our eyes met, and there was…tension.

Sexual tension, it seemed.

His eyes were filled with…lust, was it?

His eyes kept flickering from mine, down to my breasts. I smirked. I was wearing a very tight white, button up blouse, and a very short plaid skirt, with heals. I knew I was turning him on, and I liked it. The fact that there were people around, made it all the more interesting.

Once he finished talking with the teacher, he looked straight at me, while walking, in a very sexy way.  


He smirked, as he took his seat next to me, not making another single glance.

I gotta say, I was slightly disappointed.

I was in the middle of drawing a ray-diagram, when I felt a hand place on my thigh. I froze, and quickly looked down at the hand.

His long, slender fingers lay on my thigh, as his thumb gently stroke my leg. He wore a silver ring on his middle finger.

I slowly looked up, to see if he was looking down at me, but he still stared at his paper, doing his work.

I didn’t do anything, but go back to my work, acting like it didn’t bother me.

I felt his hand trail higher. And higher.

And higher. 

It reached the hem of my skirt, as he played with the plaid fabric.

My breath hitched in my throat. I caught him smirk at the corner of my eye. I shook my head, getting out of my daze, and I went to go grab his hand, to remove it. But before I could do so, his hand found the band of my panties. 

I was gonna be soaked. 

His long fingers played with the band for a few moments, but then his hand slipped inside my panties. His slender fingers trailed down and reached my clit.

I looked over at his to see him writing something down on my paper.

You’re fucking soaked, baby. Tell me, who made you this wet?

I couldn’t think straight. 

His hand, was on my clit. And he was fucking teasing me!

I decided to write back.

Are you going to finger me already, Harry?

I put the pen down, and looked up to the board.

He finally stuck a long finger in my pussy, and moved it around, painfully slow. He curled his finger, and I could hardly contain a moan, but I did. 

He then put another finger inside me, and started doing scissors. Curling his finger as he came back up.

I couldn’t help it.

I let out a soft moan.

But not soft enough, everyone looked over to me.

“What is the matter now?” The teacher asked. Harry was still fingering me like crazy. I shook my head.

“I finally got this ray-diagram correctly, Mrs.” I said trying to be smooth, but probably failed miserably.

She said nothing, but got back to teaching.

I let out a shaky breath, I was about to cum, and he knew it. My walls clenched around his fingers, and all too soon, the sensation was gone. 

His fingers were gone.

I looked over at him in disbelief. He had his two fingers separated from the rest of his fingers, because they were soaked. He looked around quickly to see if anyone was looking, then quickly looked at me, eyes boring into mine, filled with lust. His brows were furrowed. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, and slowly licked, and sucked his fingers. 

I let out another shaky breath, and looked down, and noticed his bulge.

He was hard as a rock

I quickly raised my hand.

“May I use the wash room?”

“Yeah, whatever, go ahead.” She said grumpily. I tried my hardest not to give her a smart ass answer, and made my way quickly out of class. it got quite uncomfortable, as I rushed to the bathroom. I swung the door open, and closed it. I quickly checked under the stalls to see if anyone was there.

All clear.

I heard a knock on the bathroom door, and I called, “its open!" 

Harry came in, eyes dark, full of need. He locked it, so absolutely no one could come in and interrupt.

He slowly walked over to me, and gently pushed me against the wall.

His lips were gazing my right cheek, then his mouth fell down to my neck, to gently bite it, and then went up to my ear, to whisper to me.

"Do you realise how much you’re killing me?” He whispered seductively.

I didn’t answer.

“Wearing those slutty clothes. You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl.” His big hands gripped my hips, as he grinded into me, his bulge present.

I still said nothing.

His lips came from my ear, to kiss my cheek a few times, until they finally reached my lips.

It was like nothing I’ve ever imagined. They were soft and went, and fit perfectly against mine. His tongue gazed my bottom lip, demanding for entrance, but I didn’t accept. I wanted to tease him, for teasing me earlier. His right hand moved from my hip, down to my arse, stroked it, and smacked it. 

I gasped, and he took the chance to enter his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues danced, a very rough dance. We were biting, and nibbling, and slightly sucking on each others’ lips. His kiss was like a drug, something that I needed. I was like a vampire, but instead of blood, I need his lips.

His left hand squeezed my waist again, as he kept on grinding into me.

Our lips were suddenly torn apart and we both gasped.

I took no time at all. I got on my knees and started undoing his belt. I pulled down his very tight pants, with much difficult, but I got it. He was wearing black Calvin Klein underwear, with a white band around it. I could see the outline of his dick, and I pushed him, so that he was leaning against the counter.

“You’ll wanna get comfortable, babe.” I said, as I looked up at him through my eye lashes. I then pulled down his underwear, grabbed his cock, stroked it a few times, and shoved it down my throat. I started deep throating him right away, wasting no time at all. I looked up at him again, to see his lips slightly parted, his brows furrowed. I could tell he was surprised that I could do this, and it was exactly what I wanted. He grabbed a handful of my hair and started shoving his dick in my mouth.

“Fuck.” He seethed. I moaned, causing a vibration to go through his dick, and that sent him over the edge.


**Harry’s P.O.V.**

I was getting what I always wanted.


And her mouth on my cock. 

I didn’t realise she’d be this good, and frankly, I was quite surprised. Her tongue did swirls around my dick, and she hallowed her mouth. She started deep throating right away, and it was the hottest thing I have ever experienced. I could feel her throat at the tip of my cock, and it sent waves of pleasure through me.

I was about to cum.

“Fuck, Angel baby, I’m gonna cum. Stop. Stop!” She still didn’t stop.

I was about to cum in her mouth, but when it was gone.

She was gone. Her sweet little mouth wasn’t around my dick any more.

I was breathing really heavy, as I stared down at her. Her eyes were a beautiful, shade of blue, with splattered spots of green, and yellow. Her long brown hair flowed freely, and I could tell that she didn’t like it. Her lips, her red, soft, plump lips, the lips that I loved on mine. The lips that I loved around my cock. 

I was hard as a rock, and I was going to fuck her senseless.

“Bend over.” I grabbed the back of her blouse, near the top, and shoved her over to the counter, her ass sticking out in the air. Despite the fact that she was wearing a skirt, I could see her thong perfectly. It was a dark violet color.

How fucking hot was that?

I got on my knees, and put both my hands, on either of her ass cheeks. She had the nicest ass I’ve ever seen. I stroked them once, then slapped.

“Baby, you’ve got a nice ass.” I breathed out. 

She moaned.

Stroke. Slap. 

“I’m about to fuck you senseless, honey.” I quickly stood up, pushed her thong to the side, and slammed into her. I didn’t even give her time to adjust, I just started going at it, not caring.

It didn’t seem like she cared either, as she was letting out loud moans, and was calling my name.

“Harry, fuck yes! Right there, oh yeah…” She tried to squirm, but I held her shoulders. My hands slid down to her tits.

They were firm, and they were the perfect size.

Not too big, not too small. Just perfect. 

I squeezed them hard, and stroked them. I was driving her off the edge.

“Angel baby, you like that? Yeah? Tell Harry how much you fucking like that.”

“You’re fucking amazing at this, Harry! Fuck me hard in my pussy, baby!” She yelled, and started to grind into my hips. That movement sent me crazy.

“Angel, you’ve got the tightest cunt I’ve ever fucked. Baby, this is fucking great.” I moaned, and moaned and moaned over and over again.

“I’m cumming baby. Right now. Fuck!” I came all over in her, and so did she. She came all over my cock. I pulled out, and stood behind her panting. 

“That was the sexiest thing ever.” She stated, breathless. I nodded in agreement, still having not found my breath.

She quickly fixed her thong, and adjusted her blouse and her hair. I pulled my underwear and pants up, and tied my belt. She turned away from the mirror and stared at me.

We stood still like that, for quite some time. Until we couldn’t hold back anymore. She ran over to me, jumped in my arms, and as I swung her around in circles, our lips met, in a passionate kiss. Not lie the other ones we shared, this one meant something. 

Could I be in love with her?


As promised here’s the outfit post of the costume I wore at my first day of WGT2015 (⁰▿⁰) . My boyfriend took the pics in our holiday apartment which was placed a bit out-of-town. I was happy that we booked an apartment anyway since it was way more easy to dress up like this then if we had stayed at a tent (-‿◦).

Summer ‘97 after Sophomore Year  - the original, pristine navy blue Boston Red Sox cap  “B” on the front

January ‘98 in his  Junior Year - The “B” relocated to the ‘back’, his ‘front’ of the hat, now sporting his signature look. It’s distinctly Dylan’s very own creative, personal style which set him apart from the other dudes that simply wore their ball cap backwards.

 It’s difficult to say if this is a new ball cap or not.  The poor video color quality makes it hard to distinguish whether it’s still his original navy blue cap from ‘97 (photo at the top) or new black ball cap.   Since we don’t see the back of Dylan’s head in this clip, we have no way of knowing if this may possibly be a new Colorado Avalanche hat that he sewed the “B” on the ‘front’, his ‘back’ - or - he if he got a plain black cap and sewed the “B” on the front and also the Colorado Avalanche patch on the back.  

Based on Sue’s quote below, it would seem that Dylan retired his original navy blue Boston Red Sox ball cap and replaced it with this one in Jan ‘98 and worked with his mom to relocate the original “B” from off his old cap to the new.

By Senior year, Dylan is sporting a rather tattered, well worn ball cap with the signature “B” on the “front” and Colorado Avalanche patch on the “back”

“The next morning, as we were all getting ready to join civilization at the continental breakfast, Dylan pulled his old baseball cap, one of his favorite possessions, over his long hair. We’d made the cap together: he’d carefully snipped the “B” (for Boston Red Sox) off another hat grown too shabby to wear, and I’d sewn the letter to the back of a new hat, so he could wear it
backwards and still display the logo. It turned out remarkably well, and he never wanted to be without it.”  
– Sue Klebold  “A Mother’s Reckoning”

More on Dylan’s ballcap:
The idiosyncrasies of DBK: Boston Red Sox ball cap

15. “So, I found this waterfall…” / 24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

anon request: 24 and 15 with lucifer? Thank you

Hi *wave* so the idea for this came to me this morning in the shower (don’t ask) and I kinda like it ^^ I loved how I got a request for Lucifer, by the way! I just love Mark P. - hell I adore him! x I saw him at purgatory convention and probs fell in love with him there haha he was so funny and amazing! x Thank you for that!

Keep reading

Charlie's Angels

In response to a fic request I got from doubledeez06

Hopefully you like it, I was a bit distracted this week with schoolwork. :D Thank you again.

“For some odd reason I want a establish olicity promote with Sara/Thea/Felicity (team Arrow WOMEN DOING SHIT) Doing the dance from Charlie’s Angels 2 (the one from the treasure chest club to get there information) without the men from Team Arrow finding out until they get back to the cave (jealous/Possessive Oliver/Flirty Felicity”


“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Felicity said, adjusting the black fishnet stockings now covering her legs. They were uncomfortable, and itchy. She had on a very small jacket, a sort of mix between a military style and halloween costume, and the black bottoms she wore were no better than underwear. 

Sara Lance just smiled at her indulgently, looking sexy and daunting in red pigtails, wearing a white shirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination, suspenders, and matching panties. She was a tantalizing schoolgirl with the eyes of a killer. “This is the only way to get to Komodo. We know he has the key to the vault of explosives on him. He won’t suspect three strippers to steal anything from him. All we got to do is snag the key and empty out that vault and bam. We’re done.”

“Easier said then done,” Thea stated sternly. She was the most serious of the three, decked out as a very skimpy sailor, she twirled her decorative whip around her arm. 

Felicity was worried, and nervous. “I can’t do this, I’m—I’m in a relationship! This is like cheating, sort of.” 

“We’re all in relationships, Felicity, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

They had been in the foundry earlier, bored and taciturn. Oliver, Diggle, and Roy had deiced to follow another lead after a full week of chasing Komodo to no avail. The man just kept slipping from their grasps, disappearing into the night like a shadow. He was the runner for a national explosive shipment apparently making its way through Starling City. Felicity had intercepted a transmission stating the shipment would be delivered a week later, which—as it was now friday night—was tomorrow. Oliver and the crew were getting more and more agitated over finding this shipment. So they had left, leaving the girls in the hideout. Thea had gotten restless, so Sara had the brilliant idea of “taking matters into their own hands”, as she so eloquently put it. 

And here they were, dressed as strippers, hoping that Komodo wouldn’t notice a couple girls pick-pocketing from them. 

“Just remember to smile and dance sexily. It’ll be as easy as pie,” Sara turned towards the curtain now covering them from the crowd of the strip club. They could hear the raucous cry of men right behind it. A dance pole stood before them and the other twenty strippers joining them, a prop of sorts to use in this debauchery. 

Felicity felt like she was going to die from fear. “I don’t know how to dance sexily.” It had seemed like a good idea earlier. Sure, let’s just bag the baddie ourselves. It’ll be simple. No one said anything about lap dances and buttshaking. 

A microphone’s static sounded from the other side of the curtain. “Testing, one, two, testing, one, two. Hello everyone!” The men whooped. “Welcome to the Treasure Chest! Let’s bring out the girls, shall we?” The crowd responded with gusto. “Alright, come on ladies.”

The red curtain rose. Bright lights blinded them. The girls began to snap in time to the beat now pounding beneath them.

Felicity forgot to. 

Thea hissed, “Snap.”

“Oh, right.” 

Felicity tapped her foot. 

Girls began to duck beneath the railing, their backs arched sexually to the delight of the perusers. Felicity joined them, strutting in time with Thea and Sara. The well-known Pink Panther theme played, sped up in a sort of cabaret manner. They slapped their inner thighs in time with the lilt of the song, Thea spinning with her whip like a circus ringmaster. The disgusting men went wild.

Sara swayed her hips dangerously; Felicity just tried to be as invisible as possible, flipping her hair and biting her lip halfheartedly. Perhaps some body rolls were in order. Sara nodded towards a man sitting at a table towards their right. “There he is, first table on the right.” He was dark-skinned, languorously watching them with a feral grin on his face. He downed his drink. Felicity eyed him warily, then caught Thea’s eye. She winked in assent, meaning, she understood. 

With a small smile, Thea flicked her whip towards Sara, making the blond’s top fall off. It was a bold gesture, and a very good distraction. Sara let out a high-pitched “oh” in shock, covering herself. Thea flicked her whip again towards Felicity, hitting her in the butt. It hurt. Thea did it again, now Sara’s bottoms fell as well, to the delight of the audience. She tried to hide her privies, and a group of girls obscured her from view. When she reappeared she was in a nude, sparkly, skin-tight suit, sitting in a vat of champagne. She sprayed the crowd with jets of alcohol. It was quite an amusing sight, actually.

Thea flicked open Komodo’s jacket; he roared with laughter. There. The keys. Right on his belt loop.

Felicity took the opportunity to engage Komodo. She walked towards him the way she imagined Beyonce walking in her head, one foot deliberately put in front of the other. His eyes locked onto hers. Pretend it’s Oliver, pretend it’s Oliver. Komodo stood up, she pushed him back down, straddling him like a horse. It’s Oliver. She let her hands rove over his chest, slipping into his jacket where her fingers encircled the keys. Thea went behind Komodo, letting a hand trail along his shoulders. Felicity clipped the keys onto her own belt. 

Meanwhile, Sara slid down a pole. 

Thea led the way to the back of the club, letting the other ladies dance. Felicity joined her. “Got it,” she said. There was a sticky, sweaty feeling to her. But they had done it. Sara came over to them, the cheesy smile falling from her face like a mask. “Let’s go,” she whispered.


“He didn’t even notice!” Thea yelled as they made their way down the steps of the foundry. It had been too easy, actually, stealing Komodo’s key and opening the vault. They had cleared the thing in minutes. Their steps echoed around them, their outfits from the Treasure Chest still on their bodies. 

“Seriously,” Felicity added, “If I don’t take these shoes off immediately, I am definitely getting blisters.” Their laughter tittered off as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Oliver, Diggle, and Roy sat waiting for them, mutinous expressions on their faces. 

Oliver asked quietly, “Where were you guys?”

Sara strode forward, planting her feet in place with a hand placed on her hip. “We got the job done. You should be happy.”

Oliver’s green makeup smeared his eyes, making him look more tired than usual. “Felicity.’ He said it like he needed more explanation, his eyes taking in her outfit quickly. His face reddened slightly. Roy just gazed at Thea in adoration, his mouth slightly slack. She grinned back at him in return. 

“I—uh—we dressed up as strippers and tricked-Komodo-and-emptied-the-vault-and-now-it’s-all-at-the-police-station.” This was all said in a hurry and Felicity let out a whoosh of breath at the end of it

Diggle interceded, “Oliver—”

Oliver just forged on. “You dressed up as strippers?”

Thea jumped in excitedly, “Oh my gosh it was great! Felicity gave him a lap dance and he didn’t even notice her nipping the keys from his belt and…and…” Seeing the look on Oliver’s face, she teetered off. Sara looked annoyed, rolling her eyes at the Arrow. Diggle looked amused. Roy still hadn’t looked away from Thea.

“I think we should leave.” Diggle stood, and walked towards the stairs. 

Roy cleared his throat. Thea glanced up at the room, “Oh. Right. Yeah. Roy, let’s go.” And she stomped towards the stairs as well, Roy following her like a puppy. 

Sara just stood resolutely between Felicity and Oliver, a sort of shield between the jealousy now emanating from the man. Felicity played with the straps the connected her fishnets to her bottoms. 

“Sara. Please. I’d like to speak with my girlfriend alone.

“Only if you promise not to act like a neanderthal. Felicity got the job done, you should be proud.”


The blonde looked at the other blonde, a question in her eyes. Felicity nodded mutely. Yes, go. Sara left as well, shooting one more glance towards them before walking up the stairs and shutting the door. 

Felicity strode slowly towards where Oliver sat, perched on the edge of a steel table, his fingers twitching in agitation. “Oliver?” she asked. 

He looked up at her, taking in every inch of skin showing. He looked like he was in pain, but she could see the small glint of hunger in his eyes. 

“Felicity,” he began. She was afraid he would be mad for no reason. “I’m not mad.” She let out a sigh of relief.

“But—” It made her look up again. “I am annoyed.”

Felicity cocked her head in confusion, now right in front of him, close enough to touch. 

“Why don’t you ever wear that for me?” He grinned at her mischievously, letting his fingers trail up her sides. 

“Well,” she replied a little breathlessly, “You never asked.” His hands gripped her waist, settling her in between his thighs. Heat rose up her body in waves, probably making her face a pink and embarrassingly blushed mask. A shiver coursed down her spine involuntarily. 

“I think,” he stood up, his nose skimming her jaw as he did. Felicity felt Oliver’s breath on her face, and tipped her head back in reaction to the lips that brushed her ear. “That you should wear this more often.”

He lifted her full up against him and she wrapped her legs around him. 

“Oh, you like it?” Felicity asked coyly, her eyebrow arching in smugness.

Oliver planted a kiss on her lips then growled, “Love it.”

Teenagers don’t know how to apply to jobs or dress for interviews properly, and this is unpopular for me to say because I’m also a teenager.

I work in retail and we’re hiring. The manager had a stack of CV’s (European version of a resume) on the desk in the staff room and I had a peek during my break. I can’t get over how badly written most of them were, unprofessional with typos and totally irrelevant details.

And when girls came in for their interviews, I lost even more faith in humanity. Most of them were wearing black pants with a white shirt, too big for them and obviously borrowed from their Mum or sister. That’s not what you wear to an interview in retail, you’re supposed to mimic the style of the clothes in the shop in a subtle and conservative way. A nice dress, for example. I can only imagine what kind of bullshit they came out with in the actual interview. (The girl we hired had a simple, to the point CV and wore a dress of ours, with perfect make up. Just fyi)

And then teens are always bitching and moaning that they can’t get a job. Maybe if you put a bit more effort in you would.


And in typical Ryan Murphy fashion, they may have left us plenty of hints at Comic-Con:

Both wore black and white

Sarah wore more white while Emma wore more black, possibly alluding to a yin-yang? They did the same thing after the panel too

Both have the exact same hair… color, style, all the way down to the part

That picture alone is a hint in and of itself!

Not to mention they held hands on the way to the panel and sat next to each other so we could see the similarities in their appearances

I know it’s probably a long shot and I’m jumping to ridiculous conclusions, but think of how cool that would be!

Harry Styles Imagine:
The lights blacked out. Gasps erupted throughout the giant arena. Thousands of girls, holding their breath in anticipation. But for me, this was the best part. I don’t know what it was, maybe it was the other girls excitement, or perhaps that I knew what was coming next and no one else did. It was absolutely insane.

Suddenly, music blasted through the overly large speakers and bright, neon lights danced around happily, while everyone searched for the reason they came here tonight. The reason why their bank accounts were empty. The reason tears were streaked across their faces. And for some, the reason that they’re still alive. All because of five outrageously talented boys. One Direction.

Being at these concerts for roughly three years now, it just gets better and better. I’m not sure how or even why, but it just does. I mean, I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that Harry Styles was, and still is, my boyfriend.

The five boys made their way to the front of the stage with stupid grins plastered on all of their faces. Idiots, I thought. But somehow, you can’t help but love them anyway.

“How are we doing tonight, Tampa?” Harry screamed into the mic, making teenage girls cry even harder and swoon even more. He looked so alive up there. His wild hair, was pulled back into two braids and the rest of it was its normal curly self. The style made me laugh a bit, but he was the only one that could pull it off. As always, he wore his tight black skinny jeans, accompanied by his usual plain black t-shirt with his funny looking boots. It was a ridiculous style, but I loved it nonetheless.

As the boys continued to introduce themselves, I felt Harry’s eyes searching through the crowd. Luckily for me, I always had front row seats, which I absolutely loved. His eyes rested on mine and I flashed him my brightest smile. Which in return, he gave me a funny face, which made me fall in love a little more.

As the concert went on, I jumped up and down with the other girls, singing and dancing my heart out to the boys’ music. Looking around, thousands of girls were screaming their names, crying, laughing, and it absolutely warmed my heart. The boys have really come so far, it was indescribable. It really was. Fans from all over the world, come to a variety of places just to see these guys. They spend hours making signs in hope that they’ll get noticed, they run blogs nonstop about how much these boys mean to them. It’s truly incredible in how much they make a difference in their fans lives.

The music continued, ranging from their first album, to their third. The crowd was energetic and wild as always, making the concert better. Hours past, before all of our bodies started to drag on, and before I knew it, the night was coming to an end.

“Tampa, you were absolutely incredible!” Louis yelled, still buzzing with excitement, which put a little more pep into the still crying girls.

“It really upsets us that this is our last show. This journey has been so incredible. Personally, I never would of dreamed of performing a stadium tour, much less a regular one. I think I can say, as well as for the other lads, that the Where We Are tour, has probably been the best one yet. It has been so energetic and filled with you amazing people! We can only hope to see all of you again. Tampa, you have been amazing, again!” Liam added, getting a little emotional at the end.

Niall came to the front of the stage and played a little tune on his guitar, which made the majority of the girls giggle with excitement. “This is our cue to head out, but we love you so much and we are all so grateful for your support!”

I glanced at Harry, and realized he was being unusually quiet. He was staring down at his feet.

The boys started to disperse, and I grabbed my bag, ready make a run for it. The fans are wild sometimes. Especially if they realized that I was dating one of their idols.

I was almost out of my section when I heard Harry’s voice speak into the microphone. I turned around to see the boys looking extremely confused.

“Wait,” He mumbled, still looking down. After a few seconds, he raised his head in my direction, as if he knew I was already by the door. “Y/N, can you come up here please?”

My eyes widened, but obliged. I have never been on stage before, let alone with the biggest boy band in the world. Something about this made me uneasy. Especially since Harry looked to be extremely nervous.

Walking towards the stage took a few minutes in my part, because pushing past screaming fans is definitely not easy.

I got to the stairs, surrounded by body guards, and Harry appeared, holding out his hand to help me up. Hesitantly, I took it, butterflies swooning around in my stomach. Harry led me to center stage, and the only one who showed any emotion was Niall, who was grinning to himself. None of the other boys would reach my eyes.

I looked into the crowd and saw girls that were angry, girls that were happy, girls that were jealous, and girls that were very confused, like I was.

Harry’s strong hands took my face gently, turning me towards him. “Y/N, you’re a pain my ass.” My eyes shot open, clearly not expecting that. I heard Niall laugh, and I shot him a glare. “But quite frankly, you’re my pain in the ass. You keep me grounded. You taught me not be stupid, even though I still am. You’re my rock. I know I can trust you with anything. These past three years, have been absolutely grand. Waking up to your cute little face every morning, gives me joy in just that. Whenever I’m feeling down, or even mad, I take one look at you, and my day instantly brightens. It’s incredibly what you do to me. You are so beautiful, smart, funny, caring, and you are everything to me. Y/N, I love you so much. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much, but then you showed up in my life. And truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Which is why I’m doing this,” Harry pulled something out of his back pocket, which I would have thought of been impossible due to their tightness.

Harry took my hand in his and got down onto one knee, opening the black box. Inside, was a beautiful diamond ring, embedded with several other diamonds and seemed to twinkle under the various colors of lights. It took my breath away.

Tears instantly filled and left my eyes, running down my cheeks. I heard gasps from the crowd, but I didn’t pay any attention. All I could think about was how incredibly lucky I am to have this man in my life.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” Harry’s deep, raspy voice was filled with nervousness and anticipation.

The boys behind us, clapped hands with each other. Clearly, they knew about this, which only made my heart grow fonder of Harry.

I squeezed his hand, and nodded my head, tears falling freely at a rapid pace. “Yes, of course Harry.” I whispered. Somehow, I managed to speak, and I’m glad I did.

Harry slid the beautiful ring onto my finger and kissed me hand. I threw my arms around him as soon as he stood up, hugging him so tightly, I never wanted to let go. I pulled back and looked into his mesmerizing green eyes. I ran my fingers through his hair, standing on my tip-toes due to his height. “I love you, Harry Edward Styles. It would be my honor to marry you.”

The love of my life’s eyes lit up even more, and he flashed me the most brilliant smile I ever did see. I was truly the luckiest girl in the world.

I brought Harry’s head down, bringing his wonderful lips to mine, kissing them like my life depended in it. Like my life depended on him. And that was the truth. My life did depend on him. I cannot see myself living without him, and quite frankly, I hope I never do.

Sisters, Sisters, There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters

My life has been largely one of solitude and quiet pursuits.  I’ve certainly had my wild and carefree times (the 70s and 80s leap to mind).  Maybe not so much carefree - I’ve always been sort of a worrier.  More accurately, a brooder.  I spent much of my time reading and writing. I’ve read a lot of good books, but haven’t been such a good writer. I’ve learned to accept my limitations and still have a fairly good life.

I’ve been married and divorced, and have had several long term relationships with (except for one) very nice men.  Unfortunately, I never found the “life partner” I’d expected, nor had children, which I regret, but I don’t dwell on it.  Some of my friends used to joke that I dated out of my league, meaning that, for a girl who was sort of cute, maybe moderately pretty for about 6 months or so many years back, I dated really good looking men (again, except for one, coincidentally, the same one who was not so nice).  My personal belief is that most people are average good looking, and only a very few are beautiful or ugly.  I’ve never been called beautiful, but I have been called ugly when I was a kid, and it bothered me for a long time, until it didn’t.  I knew I wasn’t beautiful, but I realized I wasn’t ugly, and I was ok with that.

The thing is, only a couple of boys called me ugly, but a lot of girls did.  I wasn’t the only one they taunted.  Lots of us got the same treatment and, I assume, some of those mean girls experienced it as well.  Middle school is harsh but, for the most part, we survive.  I only thought of it recently since I joined a few social media sites, including Tumblr.

Even in my very senior middle age, I appreciate good looking men.  I assume that never goes away, at least, I hope it doesn’t.  There are so many hot guys out there.  I even made a board on my Pinterest site for Hot Guys, pinning them from all over the internet.  The first guy I pinned is an Australian actor named Nathan Page, who is on a TV show called Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries.  While the show is pretty good, and the entire cast and crew are terrific, Nathan Page, as Detective Jack Robinson, is the reason I watch, and I am not alone.

While madly pinning picture after picture of Mr. Page onto my Hot Guys board, I became aware of several sites devoted to him.  These fans are, to say the least, giddily enthusiastic about him, and many have undertaken writing what is called fan fiction, creating their own stories involving the characters in the Miss Fisher series.  I had never heard of fan fiction, so it was all new to me.  Some stories and authors are better than others, but all of it is written from a simple, sincere devotion to an actor and his character.  Some of it is really sexy.  Some of the authors are very good with dialogue (very difficult to do) and others are good with character development.  Then there are those who are good at writing about sex.

While I’ve never gotten into reading sexy or pornographic stories just for the sake of sex, I do enjoy reading a well wrought urn of a piece, if you catch my drift.  Sexual fantasy collections, such as those compiled by Nancy Friday in the 70s, have never appealed to me, nor turned me on, but a great dirty bit of fun in a novel or short story can be a real treat.  Some of the fan fiction I’ve been reading lately has certainly met the high water mark, in my opinion, and a lot of it has even made me laugh - in a good way.  

I few days ago I read the newest chapter submitted by one of the many Nathan Page/Miss Fisher fanfic authors.  It was very lusty, to say the least, and she received a lot of positive feedback (full disclosure - i, too, reviewed her submission positively).  I should have noted earlier that all of these fans and authors are women.

In this particular instance, the author received a very upsetting note from a woman accusing her of encouraging violence and rape against women.  She was very angry and, I thought, somewhat abusive.  It made me think of my days in the 70s and 80s when I was involved with several feminist and women’s rights groups.  There were always women who were angrier than the rest of us.  There was a small splinter group that posited that all sex with men is rape, and there is no such thing as consensual sex between a man and woman.  I met a lot of man haters and, I believe, a lot of women who hate women.  If you’re old enough, do you remember “lipstick lesbians?”  One of my gay women friends wore light makeup and wore dresses, along with pants and such, not because she was hiding her sexuality, but because she liked it - that was her style.  I was in a women’s group meeting with her one time when a very angry, aggressive, hostile woman verbally attacked her, calling her a traitor and a lipstick lesbian, which was new to me.  I said to her “Pam, what the fuck can she do to you - drum you out?!”  We laughed, but it was scary, and she was very hurt.

There is no one way to be a woman. Or a man.  Or black or white or straight or gay or French or Chinese.  There just isn’t.  Nobody can please everybody.  Nobody should try to please everybody, but you only realize that when you get to be old.  Bullies are all around us, from the time we’re small and have limited retaliation skills, to middle and high school, even into college and, sadly, the work place.  Why wouldn’t they be trolling social network sites, too?  You, admittedly, take your chances when you write something personal and send it off into the wild, uncharted territory of what is called the Blogosphere.  You have to expect that there may be some negative reactions, and that some of them may even be sharply honed to shame and intimidate.  It’s the nature of the bully, whether they’re 12 years old or 45.  

Anyway, long story even longer, many of us rallied around our dear little fanfic author, a sisterhood, if you will, and I hope we encouraged her to keep up with what she loves doing.  I don’t know any of these women, but I know I could be their Mother or, in some cases, Grandmother (OUCH),  I’ve grown so fond of this little fandom, and have grown protective when any member is attacked.  It’s so weird.  I used to go shit crazy on kids who teased my real little sisters and brother many years ago, so I guess it’s just a natural reflex, and I’m not apologizing.  Sisters really do have to stick together, even when the bully is another sister.

So, here I am, looking forward to the next installment of Nathan Page’s - or, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson’s - lusty pursuit of Miss Fisher.  These fanfic authors never let me down!