#Article 39

[minipliny]

Unfortunately I can't be asked about current dramas in the anglican church because against my will I always know waaaay too much about current dramas in the anglican church

[droughtofapathy]

Playbill article on the devoted [redacted] fanbase just came out, and oh, I need to be a bitch for a moment here. Rushing a show 39 times (out of 68 performances) is unhinged behavior, but sure, good for you. So glad you have the time and money for that. I'm in a glass house what with how much I spend on theatre in a year.

I'm more fascinated about how someone who can afford to spend $35 x 39 ($1,365) and apparently doesn't have a job that would prevent them from being at a box office at 10 a.m. on a weekday, thinks they're doing anything to actually help a financially struggling show? This whole 30+ times fangroup did realize they were taking accessible tickets away from other people who might've come out liking it and recommending it to others, right? They did know that by not buying regular-priced tickets, they were not helping the show's dire financials, right? Did they want to help the show succeed, or did they just want bragging rights about who saw it the most?

[britishchick09]

senpai at the murray hotel in livingston, montana in october 1939 and the hotel lobby today! :D

bonus google maps view:

[sylviii]

only Mike Trout could be hitting .254/.351/.475 with a 127 wRC+ and fourteen homers before the All-Star Break and have baseball writers going WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MIKE TROUT?!?!?!?!?

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Australie

Excerpts from the article in the Sydney Telegraph, Saturday 6th June, 1997, pp 38-39. It contained an interesting interview with John Pope, Jeff's Australian tour manager, and Donny Ienner, Head of Columbia Records. (thanks to Christine Warren)

THE LAST GOODBYE Music writer Dino Scatena examines an ironic finale.

The tragic details of Jeff Buckley's final few moments read like an overly dramatic draft for one of the artist's video clips. The imagery could have served as a perfect visual counterpart to his most famous song, Last Goodbye. A carefree Buckley, laughing and singing as he walks fully clothed into the Mississippi River, floating on his back until the water's swirling hidden life-force rises to hug his fragile frame and lead it into eternity. Les détails tragiques des derniers moments de Jeff Buckley sont comme un brouillon extrèmement dramatique d'un clip vidéo de l'artiste. L'image aurait pu servir de parfait équivalent visuel pour sa chanson la plus célèbre : Last Goodbye. Un Buckley insousciant, riant et chantant comme il va tout habillé dans le Mississipi, flottant sur le dos jusqu'au moment où la force vitale cachée dans l'eau tourbillonnante s'élève pour étreindre sa fragile charpente et la conduire dans l'éternité.

Buckley would have hated such a storyboard; too cliched, too grandiose.  The 30-year-old singer/songwriter always strived to make his work uncluttered, simple, its power left to be carried through the innate beauty of his poetry and pure angelic voice. Buckley aurait détesté un tel story board ; trop cliché, trop grandiose. Le chanteur/songwriter, âgé de 30 ans, s'est toujours efforcé de désencombrer son travail, simple, son pouvoir se laissait porter par la beauté innée de sa poésie et de sa voix pure et angélique.

The extraordinary circumstances surrounding the death of Jeff Buckley has once again sent a generation of rock fans around the world into deep mourning.  It's an all too familiar tale: an artist with a seemingly mystic gift, a tortured and tormented soul whose presence is whisked away from us before its full potential is realised. Les circonstances extraordianaires entourant la mort de Jeff Buckley a plongé à nouveau une génération de fans de rock du monde entier dans un deuil profond.

(...)

As it's turned out, Buckley was only on this world long enough to release a single album, Grace will remain one of the most astonishing and well-rounded debuts of the modern rock age. Vu la tournure des choses, Buckley a été dans ce monde seulement assez longtemps pour sortir un unique album, Grace restera un des premiers albums les plus étonnants et les mieux tournés du rock de l'âge moderne.

Of course, all the tragedy surrounding Buckley's passing is compounded by the fact that his father, Tim Buckley, met a similar premature end. Tim Buckley, who many still hail as the most original folk singer of his generation, died of a drug overdose in 1975 at the age of 28. Bien sûr, toute la tragédie entourant le décès de Buckley est constituée du fait que son père, Tim Buckley, eut également une fin prématurée.Tim Buckley, que beaucoup proclament encore comme le plus original chanteur folk de sa génération, est mort d'une overdose de drogue en 1975 à l'âge de 28 ans.

        I lost myself on a cool damp night         I gave myself in that misty light         Was hypnotised by a strange delight         Under a lilac tree         (Lilac Wine)

Jeff Buckley's two visits to Sydney left an enduring impression.  He came twice within six months, first in August of 1995 and then in February of last year.  That first brief trip came on the back of an extended European tour.  "I was getting tired of it in the last moments of playing in Europe, but it's entirely new here and I've had time to convalesce," he told a reporter on arrival. Les deux passages de Jeff Buckley à Sydney ont laissé une impression durable. Il est venu deux fois en 6 mois, d'abord en août 1995 puis en février de l'année dernière. Ce premier et bref voyage venait derrière une grande tournée européenne. "Je commençais à fatiguer les dernières fois où j'ai joué en Europe, mais c'est entièrement nouveau ici et j'ai eu le temps de me remettre", dit-il à un reporter à son arrivée.

Over the next few days, he gave two unforgettable performances: one at a small club called the Lounge in Melbourne and the other at Sydney's Metro nightclub.  To those present, the Metro show on August 28 rates as one of the greatest musical performances ever witnessed in this city. In a magical 90 minutes, Buckley and his three-piece band delivered a remarkable set of light and shade featuring much of the Grace album as well as the aggressive covers of MC5's Kick Out the Jams" and Big Star's "Kangaroo".  Buckley's pure, acrobatic voice sounded all the more extraordinary in the flesh.  "You could hear a pin drop," recalled tour manager John Pope.  "He held the audience in the palm of his hand.  He'd take you on the ride with him.  He'd lift you and take you down.  He paced his gigs with finesse.  When he walked on to a stage, he felt a responsibility, but it wasn't to the audience.  It was to something else. God knows what." Les neuf jours suivants, il donna deux performances inoubliables : une dans un petit club appelé "the Lounge in Melbourne" et l'autre au Sydney's Metro nightclub. A ceux qui étaient présents, le show du Metro en août demeure une des plus extraordinaires performances jamais vue dans cette ville. En 90 minutes magiques, Buckley et les trois autres membres du groupe offrèrent un remarquable set de lumères et d'ombres jouant la plupart des chansons de l'album "Grace" comme des reprises agressives de "Kick Out the Jams" des MC5 et de "Kangaroo" de Big Star. La voix pure et acrobatique de Buckley sonnait le plus extraordinairement possible dans la salle. "Vous pouviez entendre une mouche voler" rappelle le tour manager John Pope. "Il tenait le public dans la paume de sa main. Il vous emmenait faire le voyage avec lui. Il vous levait et vous reposait. Il dosait ses shows avec finesse. Quand il montait sur scène, il sentait une responsabilité, mais pas envers le public. C'était autre chose. Dieu sait quoi."

"There was high anticipation which was rewarded 10-fold when he played, added Jen Brennan, manager of teh night's local support act Crow.  "He just moved a lot of people.  It was quite extraordinary.  It's not often that you get a crowd at the Metro that's so silent and still.  It was serene and very powerful." "Il y avait une grande anticipation qui avait été 10 fois récompensée quand il a joué", ajoute Jen Brennan, manager du Crow."Il a touché un grand nombre de personnes. C'était vraiment extraordinaire.Ce n'est pas souvent qu'on voit une foule au Metro qui soit si silencieuse et si calme. C'était serein et très puissant."

Indeed a couple of nights later at the Lounge show in Melbourne, the venue's management found it necessary to turn off the cash registers because their collective clanging messed with the ambience. De fait, deux nuits plus tard au Lounge show de Melbourne, le management trouva nécessaire de fermer les caisses enregistreuses parce que leur bruit collectif cassait l'ambiance.

That first visit was meant to be a simply a quick promotional trip to push Grace, but such was the impact of the Metro show that Buckley was persuaded to return to Sydney and play two extra gigs at the Phoenician Club to quench the city's sudden fascination with him. Cette première visite était censée être simplement un rapide voyage voyage promotionnel pour pousser Grace, mais l'impact au Metro show a été tel qu'on a convaincu Buckley de revenir à Sydney et de jouer deux nouveaux shows au Phoenician club étancher la soudaine fascination de la ville envers lui.

Within a few days of arriving, Buckley was gone. But he'd loved his time here and promised to return as soon as he could.  Buckley kept his word and was back in February for a full-scale national tour. Peu de temps après son arrivée, Buckley était parti. Mais il avait adoré le temps passé ici et avait promis de revenir aussi vite que possible. Buckley tint parole et était de retour en février pour une tournée nationale.

It was now two years since the release of Grace and the pressures of life on the road as a high-profile recording artist were starting to show.  "The whole Grace period has just been madness," he told the Daily Telegraph at the time.  "I had no idea how completely crazy in the head I was until I came back and touched ground.  I lost a lot of blood out there, meaning some things fell apart, some things got stronger.  I think maybe  I sensed my life would be altered forever, but not in any of the shapes it has.  It's just like having a child.  You can plan on it for years and years and think about it and daydream about it but when it actually happens, the ripple it causes in your life is really transforming." Cela faisait maintenant deux ans que Grace était sorti et les pressions de la vie en tournée d'un artiste de studio commençaient à se faire sentir. "Toute la période Grace a été de la folie", disait-il au Daily Telegraph à ce moment. "Je ne me rendais pas compte que j'étais complètement fou dans ma tête jusqu'à ce que je revienne et que je touche le sol. J'ai perdu beaucoup de sang là-bas, je veux dire que des choses ont disparu, certaines choses sont plus fortes. Je crois peut-être que je sentais que ma vie serait altérée pour toujours, mais pas du tout dans le sens où elle l'a été. C'est juste comme d'avoir un enfant. Vous pouvez le planifier sur des années et des années et penser à ça et rêver à ça mais en fait quand cela arrive, l'onde de choc que ça cause dans votre vie et vraiment "transformante"."

Although that second tour may have been a bit flat on stage, Buckley was still in good spirits, the same free-wheeling reckless self.  He had his girlfriend with him this time, a violinist named Joan from a band called the Dambuilders.  There was a screaming match back at the band's hotel one night when one of Buckley's bandmates came back to his room to find the singer and his girlfriend had trashed the room and had sex in both beds.  Another night when Joan's band was playing a show at the Annandale hotel, Buckley went down and took care of the light show. When the Dambuilders started trashing their own instruments at the end of the show, Buckley abandoned his lighting duites and ran up on stage and helped them do it right. Même si cette seconde tournée peut avoir été un peu plate sur scène, Buckley était toujours dans de bons esprits, le même personnage imprudent en roue libre. Il avait sa copine avec lui cette fois, une violoniste nommée Joan dun groupe appelé the Dambuilders. Il y eut une effrayante baguarre à l'hôtel du groupe une nuit quand une des roadies de Buckley revint dans sa chambre pour s'apercevoir que le chanteur et sa copine avaient dégueulassé la chambre et fait l'amour dans les deux lits. Une autre nuit quand le groupe de Joan jouait un show à l'hôtel Annandale, Buckley descendit et s'occupa des lumières. Quand les Dambuilders commencèrent à détruire leurs propres instruments à la fin du show, Buckley abandonna la lumière et couru sur la scène pour les aider à bien faire.

Friends all describe Buckley as a warm, loving, open soul but the singer was often apprehensive when first approached by strangers.  John Pope, who as tour manager for both visits spent virtually every day with Buckley while he was in  Australia, described how the artist might appear cold as ice at first and then suddenly swing to the other extreme.  "Someone on the street might say:'Are you Jeff Buckley?'" Pope explained. "And one day he night say: 'No he's over there, I saw him just go around the corner.' Or sometimes he might go, 'Yeah, I'm him' or 'Leave me alone'.  Then they might say something funny and he'd open straight up to them and talk to them like they're long lost friends.  It went that way in personal life, business life and with people he'd never met before." Ses amis décrivent tous Buckley comme une âme chaude, amoureuse et ouverte mais le chanteur appréhendait souvent ses premières approches avec des étrangers. John Pope, qui en tant que Tour Manager pour les deux passages passa virtuellement chaque jour avec Buckley pendant qu'il était en Australie, décrit comment l'artiste pouvait apparaître froid comme de la glace au début puis soudainement aller vers l'autre extrème. "Quelqu'un dans la rue pouvait dire "êtes-vous Jeff Buckley ?"", explique Pope. "Et un jour il pouvait répondre : "Non, c'est par là, je l'ai vu juste tourner au coin." Ou parfois ça pouvait être "ouais, c'est moi" ou "Laissez-moi tranquille". Puis ils pouvaient dire quelque chose de drôle alors il s'ouvrait directement à eux comme s'ils étaient de vieux amis perdus de vus. C'était comme ça dans sa vie personnelle, professionnelle et avec des gens qu'il n'avait jamais vus avant."

Pope's fondest personal memory of Buckley came during the first trip. The singer was furious when he found out that his tour manager hadn't told him that it was his birthday.  Buckley promptly organised a penis-shaped cake and presented it to Pope on stage in Melbourne before shoving his face in the gift.  Pope holds dear a photo of the pait on stage together, Buckley covered in cake and smiling broadly. Le premier souvenir personnel de Pope concernant Buckley date du premier voyage. Le chanteur était furieux quand il découvrit que son Tour Manager ne lui avait pas dit que c'était son anniversaire. Buckley organisa sur-le-champ un gâteau en forme de penis et le présenta à Pope sur scène à Melbourne avant de pousser son visage dans son cadeau. Pope montre tendrement une photo de l'événement sur scène ensemble, Buckley couvert de gateau et souriant vaguement.

"I can imagine him doing exactly what he did," Pope offered in reference to the circumstances of Buckley's disappearance, recalling the time he tried to talk the singer out of going for a night swim at Coolangatta Beach.  "From when I knew him, you'd say: 'You shouldn't do that Jeff.'  And he'd go:'Nah, it'll be all right.  Don't worry about it.'  And off he'd go.  He was carefree and easy-going like that about life.  "There was an edge to him that comes with creative people.  He was definitely touched.  He'd have those moments of of madness like any artisitc person does.  But there was no self-destructiveness in it at all." "Je peux l'imaginer en train de faire exactement ce qu'il a fait", Pope fait référence aux circonstances de la disparition de Buckley, rappelant le temps où il essayait de convaincre le chanteur de ne pas aller nager à Coolangatta Beach. "Tel que je le connais, vous auriez dit : "Tu ne devrais pas faire ça Jeff". Et il aurait répondu : "Bah, ça va aller. Ne t'inquiète pas de ça". Et il aurait été. Il était imprudent et insousciant comme ça avec la vie. "Il y avait un côté chez lui qui est lié aux gens créatifs. Il était définitivement atteint. Il avait ces moments de folie comme tout artiste en a. Mais il n'y avait pas d'auto-destruction là-dedans du tout."  

        They're waiting for you         Like I waited for mine         And nobody ever came.         (Dream Brother)  

Jeff Buckley only ever met his famous father once.  He spent a week with Tim, who left his mother Mary Guibert only a week after she gave birth to their only child, in April of 1975 when he was eight.  Two months later, his father was dead.  The weight his father's shadow cast on his life was the primary reason it took Jeff so long to take the leap into the limelight. "I knew there would be [comparisons] from the time I was a small child," Jeff once revealed.  "From the time that his manager started calling my house when I was six or seven.  I found my grandmother's guitar and [the manager] started calling the house:'Has he written songs yet?'  So I've been waiting and doing the maths in my head about the inevitable comparisons all my life. But I don't care." Jeff a seulement rencontra son célèbre père seulement une fois. Il passa une semaine avec Tim, qui quitta sa mère Mary Guibert seulement une semaine après qu'elle ait donné naissance à son unique enfant, en avril 1975 quand il avait 8 ans. Deux mois plus tard, son père était mort. Le poids de l'ombre de la personnalité son père sur sa vie fut la principale raison pour laquelle cela prit si longtemps à Jeff de sortir de l'ombre. "Je savais qu'il y aurait des comparaisons depuis que je suis enfant," révéla Jeff un jour. "A partir du moment où son manager a commencé à appeler chez moi quand j'avais 6 ou 7 ans. J'ai trouvé la guitare de ma grand-mère et le manager a commencé à appeler à la maison : "A-t-il déjà écrit des chansons ?" Alors j'ai attendu et fait le calcul dans ma tête à propos de l'inévitable comparaison toute ma vie. Mais je m'en fiche."

Buckley was never comfortable discussing his father, deeply resented the fact that he wasn't invited to the funeral.  But in 1991, he made an unannounced appearance at a Tim Buckley tribute concert in Brooklyn and performed a moving solo version of his father's I Never Asked to be Your Mountain.  "I both admired and hated it," the young Buckley said afterwards on the song written about his parents' relationship.  "That's why I did it.  It was something really private to me. I figured that if I went to the tribute and sang and paid my respects, I could be done with it." Buckley ne se sentait jamais à l'aise pour parler de son père, ressentant profondément le fait qu'il ne fut pas invité aux funérailles. Mais en 1991, il fit une apparition surprise à un concert hommage à Tim Buckley à Brooklyn et joua une version solo "bougeante" de la chanson de son père "I Never Asked to Be your Mountain". "Je l'admirais et la haïssais à la fois," disait le jeune Buckley après-coup de la chanson écrite sur la relation de ses parents. "C'est pour ça que je l'ai fait. C'était quelque chose de vraiment très privé pour moi. Je m'imaginais que si je venais à l'hommage et chantais et payais mes respects, je pouvais en être quitte".

        It's night time coming         I'm not afraid to die ...         My love, now the rain is falling         I believe my time has come         It reminds me of the pain I might leave behind.         (Grace)

Jeff Buckley signed to Columbia records home to the likes of Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen, in 1993 and soon after released the EP Live At The Sin(e). Jeff Buckley signa avec Columbia Records en 1993 à l'instar de Bob Dylan et Bruce Springsteen et peu après sortit le EP "Live at Sin-é".

In an exclusive interview with the Daily Telegraph yesterday, an emotional Donny Ienner -- head of Columbia Records and the man directly responsible for signing Buckley -- shared his reminiscences aof that early period.  "I remember the first time I went down to see Jeff after a few people had told me about his performances at SINE, I was so taken that night by the depth of his artist.  Of all the artists that I've ever personally signed, Jeff made the most immediate impact on my life. I felt that his reverence for the past, not to mention obviously the opportunites for the future, was incredible.  He knew every record of Miles Davis and Edith Piaf and opera records and classical records and Led Zeppelin records.  He was just such a great teacher of diverse music.  He defies any sort of characterisation or trend.  He had that at a very, very early age and the impact that he made on the world with just an EP and an album is going to be felt for decades to come.  Jeff never worried about rock stardom, never worried about money, and never worried about the things that a lot of young artists worry about today. He was really worried about making sure his integrity was intact at all times.  He was just an incredible thing." Dans une interview exclusive avec le Daily Telegraph hier, un Donny Ienner ému - patron de Columbia Records et l'homme directement responsable du contrat de Buckley - partageait ses souvenirs de cette récente période. "Je me souviens de la première fois que je suis venu voir Jeff après que quelques personnes m'aient parlé de ses performances au Sin-é, j'ai été si frappé cette nuit-là par la profondeur de cet artiste. De tous les artistes que j'ai personnellement signés, Jeff a eu l'imapct le plus immédiat dans ma vie. Je sentais que sa révérence pour le passé, pour ne pas mentionner d'ailleurs les opportunités pour le futur, était incroyable. Il connaissait chaque disque de Miles Davis et Edith Piaf et des disques d'opéra et des disques classiques et les disques de Led Zeppelin. C'était un super professeur de diverses musiques. Il défie toutes sortes de caractérisation ou de tendance. Il a eu ça très très jeune et l'impact qu'il a eu sur le monde avec seulement un EP et un album s'estimera dans les décennies à venir. Jeff ne s'est jamais inquiété de la célébrité rock, ne s'est jamais inquiété de l'argent, ne s'est jamais inquiété des choses qui inquiètent beaucoup de jeunes artistes aujourd'hui. Il s'inquiétait vraiment d'être assuré de garder tout le temps intacte son intégrité. Il était juste une chose incroyable."

Ienner also took the opportunity to reject widespread rumours that Buckley had been depressed in the weeks leading up to his disappearance because of problems with his record comapny over the shape his follow up to Grace should take.  "I think he was in a good place in terms of making his second record," Ienner said.  "The thing that I personally promised him when he signed to Columbia records was that he could take all the time he needed in between his records and we would not interfere on any level.  He had over 100 songs and he was ready to go in at the end of June to make his record.  He was in wonderful spirits, he was having an amazingly good time spiritually, emotionally and professionally down in Memphis (where Buckley had been since February)". Ienner a également saisi l'opportunité de rejeter les rumeurs très répandues sur une déprime de Buckley dans les semaines précédant sa disparition à cause de problèmes avec sa maison de disque, au sujet de la forme que devait prendre l'album succédant à Grace. "Je pense qu'il était bien placé en vue de faire son second album," a dit Ienner. "La chose que je lui ai personnellement promise quand il a signé à Colombia Records était qu'il pourrait prendre tout le temps dont il avait besoin entre ses albums et que nous n'interférerions pas à aucun niveau. Il avait plus de 100 chansons et il était prêt à aller au bout à la fin du mois de juin pour faire son disque. Il était dans un état d'esprit merveilleux, il passait un étonnemment bon moment spirituellement, émotionnellement et professionnellement à Memphis (où Buckley était depuis février)".

Ienner confirmed that late last year, Buckley completed seven new songs during sessions in New York with producer and former Television lynch-pin, Tom Verlaine.  "We have no plans to release anything right now.  From what I understand from the people he's been working with, there are in excess of 50 or 60 songs that he was working on.  So there's a wonderful legacy that he's left behind." Ienner a confirmé que, à la fin de l'année dernière, Buckley a terminé 7 nouvelles chansons pendant les sessions à New York avec le producteur et le fondateur de Television Tom Verlaine. "Nous n'avons pas prévu de le sortir pour le moment.D'après ce que j'ai compris des gens avec qui il travaillait, il y a en plus 50 ou 60 chansons sur lesquelles il travaillait. C'est donc un legs merveilleux qu'il laisse derrière lui."

        Looking out the door         I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners         Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water         Maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong         But tonight you're on my mind so you'll never know         (Lover, You Should've Come Over)

Jeff Buckley is gone but, like all the other great artists who were cut down in their prime, his music will long outlive his tragically short life. Jeff Buckley est parti mais, comme tous les autres grands artistes fauchés dans leur force de l'âge, sa musique survivra longtemps à sa vie tragiquement courte.

(Translation: Jeff Buckley is gone but, like all other great artists cut down in their prime, his music will long outlast his tragically short life.)

[aintmyjewelry]

that is just splendid. isn't that just splendid?

[yourexamguide]

Exploring the Potential of Community Resources Under Article 39 (b)

The Supreme Court has convened a 9-judge Constitution Bench to determine the parameters of 'community resources' as outlined in Article 39 (b) of the Constitution. The bench's objective is to clarify whether the definition of community resources extends to encompass private assets or remains restricted to public resources.

In conclusion, Article 39 (b) underscores the state's obligation to formulate policies ensuring the equitable distribution of material resources within the community to serve the collective welfare. As the Supreme Court deliberates on the interpretation of 'community resources,' it endeavours to uphold this fundamental principle enshrined in the Constitution.

The outcome of this judicial scrutiny holds the potential to shape governance, economics, and societal well-being, reinforcing the essence of justice and equity in resource allocation for the common good.

Read More - Scope of Community Resources under Article 39 (b) of the Constitution

[ful-flo]

Best Auto Repair Shop & Transmission Service Experts in Winnipeg | Seven Oaks Transmissions

[sujathaks]

Best Auto Repair Shop & Transmission Service Experts in Winnipeg | Seven Oaks Transmissions

[marnz]

sorry to union post but god it's so important to have a steward to rep you in disciplinary meetings so that they can:

call your management out if your management is being shady

try to keep you from losing your job without just cause

comfort you if you are scared or angry

let you focus on you!! it can be scary, it can be emotional, you need someone else there to think and be calm and be your advocate

grieve that shit

[grahamkennedy]

I'm gonna write a fic that's a Good Weekend article (basically a weekly spread from The Age that comes out every saturday, for non Australians) from 2023 on "what happened to Gerry Carroll" but first I gotta do a whole lotta math on how old he would be and urggggh.

[chemicalproduct]

Septic tank enzyme treatment

[britishchick09]

senpai talking to a guy from kido radio- the original pic and my tweaked version! ;)

[clarabosswald]

per results of the economist/yougov poll conducted on december 2 - 5, 2023, with 206 us citizens ages 18-29:

27% don't think jewish people face much discrimination in america today, and 12% don't think jewish people face any discrimination at all - 39% overall. (compared to 16%-37% in the other age groups.) [in october alone, there was a rise of nearly 400% in antisemitic incidents reported in the united states, compared to the same period in the previous year.]

17% think hate crimes in the united states against jewish people are only a minor problem, with 11% don't think they're a problem at all; 28% overall. (compared to 17%-33% in the other age groups.) 17% are not sure if they're a problem. (compared to 4%-12% in the other age groups.)

regarding the question, "do jews have too much power in america?" - 28% answered with a version of "agree". (compared to 6%-19% in the other age groups.)

regarding the question, "do american jews make a positive contribution to american society?" - only 52% answered with a version of "agree". (compared to 65%-81% in the other age groups.) 13% have answered with a version of "disagree" (compared to 5%-7% in the other age groups).

answering the question of whether it's antisemitic or not to deny that the holocaust happened, 17% think it's not antisemitic (compared to 3%-11% in the other age groups), and 37% are not sure (compared to 12%-28% in the other age groups).

answering the question of "do you agree the holocaust is a myth", 20% have answered with "agree" (compared to 0%-8% in the other age groups), 30% "neither agree not disagree" (compared to 2%-24% in the other age groups). only 51% disagree that the holocaust is a myth (compared to 68%-97% in the other age groups).

regarding the statement, "the holocaust has been exaggerated" - 23% agree (compared to 2%-9% in the other age groups). 26% "neither agree nor disagree" (compared to 6%-25% in the other age groups). only 52% disagree (compared to 66%-92% in the other age groups).

regarding the statement, "israel exploits holocaust victimhood for its own purposes" - 36% agree (compared to 13%-20% in the other age groups), 23% disagree (compared to 35%-60% in the other age groups), 41% are not sure (compared to 27%-45% in the other age groups).

link to the article version, with some infographics.

gen z is significantly more antisemitic than other gens. this antisemitism is still growing. if you ignore it, if you deny it, if you think only nazis/rightwing extremists do it, if you blame the jews for it, if you justify it in any other way - you're part of it.

happy hanukkah, y'all.

[thewidowsledger]

Toothbrush

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Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

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⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” she said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”