#like more evenly than i currently i am

[celiaelise]

Noticed some tanlines and then I started looking at my skin TOO closely and being like, "WHAT DOES THIS SLIGHT DISCOLORATION MEAN??.? 👀" (almost certainly nothing 🙄)

Anyway I feel anxious and adrift and it's like 100% bc I've barely eaten today! Let's see if I can find the willpower to change that....

[ssahotchnerr]

fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

[melancholyhigh]

SUNRISE.

ft. brother's best friend!leon x reader

synopsis. even though leon's supposed to be having a sleepover with your brother, he can't help but miss you, sneaking behind your brother's back to fulfil his desires.

content. 2.4k words. smut. subby!leon, handjob, fingering, quiet & sneaky sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), come eating, praise kink.

note. i'm finally active and the first thing i do is write for sub leon. old habits die hard.

masterlist. i love reblogs & validation !!

You stare blankly at your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It’s currently 5 AM, and you’ve spent the entire night twisting and turning, trying to succumb to the sweet escape of slumber.

You believe it’s your body betraying you. Your brain understands his presence near you, but not close enough. It yearns for him and his touch, unable to function without it. He’s in the room across from yours, lying on the grimy couch in your brother’s room as he peacefully sleeps.

Your eyes begin to droop, and you allow yourself to give into the sense of vulnerability. Breaths coming out evenly, your chest rising and falling in sync. 

All sense of tranquillity disappears at the firm knock on your door. What could your parents possibly want?

You let out a groan in frustration. In all honesty, you’re about to burst into tears. The comforting rest you’ve been anticipating since Monday swept away because you couldn’t handle your feelings correctly, up late at night just thinking about what could’ve been.

The quicker you get it over with, the faster you’ll be able to get some sleep. You highly doubt that, though.

A few minutes pass, and you rip the smothering blanket off you, shuffling to the door. Gripping the cool metal of the doorknob, you stall before turning it.

The door opens to reveal him. Leon. The source of your nighttime dilemmas. His lips curved into a shy smile, and his eyelids drooped with similar exhaustion to yours. Your anger and frustration dissipate when you meet his tired gaze. It’s astonishing how much control he has over your emotions, over you.

“Can I come in?” he asks sheepishly, his voice hoarse from sleep. You stumble to the side, silently allowing him to enter the confines of your room. It’s second nature to him when he falls not so gracefully onto your bed, snuggling your sheets.

Closing the door, you lock it before joining him on your bed. It wasn’t unusual for Leon to find comfort in your twin-sized bed despite barely being able to fit in it with you, his limbs dangling off the ledge. It was odd of him to entertain the idea while your brother was nearby. 

He’s the cautious one despite asking you out first. He’s reluctant to face the consequences of your brother finding him intertwined with you in your sheets. You’re not mad at him for keeping your relationship private, but it’s not like you hate the idea of him showing you off or you, him.

You don’t care if your brother finds out. He’d get over it, but your brother’s a bitch when he wants to be. Though you’ve dealt with him for most of your life, it would be nothing new.

So, it confuses you why he’d want to doze off on your bed, risking facing your brother, and your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I couldn’t sleep without you,” Leon mentions, words slurring from his drowsiness. If you were unable to sleep before, now you’re wide awake. He could’ve lied, saying that shitty recliner your brother got on a ‘deal’ was terrible support for his back. But no, he needed you just as much as you needed him. 

“I missed you too,” you reply, nose almost touching his as you rest your head on his pillow. Every moment shared between you two, you can’t help but admire him. He’s so pretty, even like this. Blonde hair draped messily onto your pillow, his cheeks rosy, and his half-lidded eyes shine brighter than any of the stars you’ve gazed at.

A grin graces his usual pouty lips. Leaning over, he presses his mouth to yours — it’s less lust and more intimate, reminding you of the first kiss you shared. You had never been more grateful for your dumbass brother getting locked in the theatre’s bathroom stall.

Your mom had forced you to pick up your little brother and his friend from the movie theatre, and you hadn’t anticipated his cute friend, whom you may have liked, sitting in the passenger seat as you both waited begrudgingly for your brother.

You had seen him around, playing fighter games with your brother on his PS1 in the living room. He was your favourite of his friends. Not only was he handsome, but he was also a good influence on your troublesome brother. And you may have developed a teensy crush on him. You didn’t take it seriously because you’re his best friend’s sibling — why would he even consider you an option?

Until that evening when he proved you wrong, your brother was gone for 20 minutes, and you had no other option but to talk to the boy. He was a bit awkward, you were too, but you both began talking and surprisingly hit it off. 

After mindless chatter, he confessed, which confused you til no end. He really wanted you? Your silence startled the poor boy, ultimately leading you to return his feelings with a simple kiss to end the night.

But it's different now as you entangle your fingers into his hair, tugging softly, a soft whimper falls from his parted lips — why was everything about him so pretty?

“Don’t be so loud, baby. Do you want him to hear you?” you whispered teasingly against his lips. His warm hands trail under your sleep shirt and grip your hips roughly.

“Fuck off,” he huffs quietly. The walls are thin, incredibly so. You’ve heard the movies Leon and your brother were watching during the night, and you’re sure they’ve heard you listening to music, so it was plausible that he might hear Leon’s moans and whines, but your brother slept like a rock.

And, even though the prospect of people knowing how good you please Leon was hot. The mortification of your brother, let alone your mother catching you, certainly was not.

Taking your hand in his, he guides it to his crotch, his erection straining his plaid pyjama pants. He lets you feel how badly he wants you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and leaving kisses down the column of your throat. 

The sun slips into your room through the gap in your curtains, and you ponder how long you’ve been making out to get him so aroused. 

“Let me feel you, baby,” Leon breathed into the crook of your neck. Your hand slips into his pants, fingers teasing the head of his sensitive cock, stringy precum sticking to them. Your own arousal pools in your underwear, clinging to your drenched cunt. 

Deft fingers encircle his shaft, lazily stroking the base of his dick. Between shared kisses, Leon sneaks his hand into your shorts and underwear, rubbing your needy clit, and a sharp whimper falls from your lips. He tantalizingly glides his fingers through your slicked folds, teasing your sensitive nub with each pass of his digits.

The movements of your hand on his cock become messy and frantic, precum continuing to spill onto the material of his pants with each buck of his hip. 

You’re not faring better when he plunges his fingers into your tight hole, thrusting, resulting in your cunt producing slick and embarrassing noises. Your combined gasps and whines fill the room despite being quelled by each other’s lips. 

You melt away in each other's arms, forgetting about the conflict that would arise if anyone found you and him in such a predicament.

Drawing away from your swollen lips, Leon stills his fingers in your pussy, pulling them out, and you cease your hand on his dick. He groans at the loss of pleasure from your hands and the slick accumulated on his digits, unaware he made you so wet for him. 

“Can I cum inside you, angel?” he whispers breathlessly into your ear. He’s thoroughly lost in pleasure, uncaring if your brother finds him knuckles deep into your cunt. His cheeks are flushed pink, the blush leading to his chest under his black graphic tee. Chest heaving up and down with each breath as he admires your equally fucked out expression.  

“Mhm, okay,” you hummed, and Leon shifted his back flat on the mattress, allowing you to straddle him with shaky thighs when you rid yourself of your shorts and underwear. Leon’s palms instinctively went to your waist, gripping the flesh as he stabilised you, your ass sitting flushed to his clad thighs.

His shirt rides up, exposing his v-line dipping into his pants. Gasping softly when the fabric of his pants grazed his sensitive head, your hands eagerly dragged them down, revealing his pretty dick, flushed red to the tip oozing with precum. 

Hovering over him, you guide his cock through your glistening folds with your hand's help. You collectively groan when you slide down his cock, taking every inch of him into your tight hole. As you adjust to his size and girth, you lean down, kissing him as he encircles his arms around your waist.

You rock your hips gently, and Leon groans into your parted lips. He trails his lips to your collarbone, biting on the exposed flesh. A sudden moan escapes you when he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. His needy and feverish behaviour reminds you of your first time together. 

The squeaky opening of the door opposing your room results in you halting your movement on top of Leon, and he whines in protest. You clasp your hand over his mouth, glaring at him. With the tightening hold of your waist and the muffled moans, Leon is acting careless. He doesn’t give a fuck about your brother right now, too focused on the constricting grasp your velvety walls have on his throbbing cock.

The footsteps pad down the hallway, and you assume your brother is making his way down the stairs. 

“Be a good boy f’me, Leon,” you whisper, moving your hand away from his face. You don’t know what overcame him for him to be acting so recklessly. Cupping his blotchy red cheeks, you note how dazed he looks, his blue irises hidden in his dilated pupils.

“Ah, don’t stop fucking me,” he breathed in response, his hips continuing to rut into your warm cunt. The intimacy of it all makes it even more challenging to delay his release, you moving up and down his cock, riding him slowly and passionately in the morning, beams of sun sprinkling into the room, setting the euphoric scene. 

It almost makes him forget the absurdity of it. Letting his best friend’s sibling fuck him into an incoherent mess at 6 in the morning, yet he regrets nothing. He can’t help but grip your soft thighs encompassing him as he thrusts half-haphazardly into your hole, dripping down and sticking to his skin. 

He spills into you with a soft moan, staining your walls with his cum at the combination of your teasing words and soft lips on his.

“Good boy, Leon. You did so good,” you coo at him, and Leon whimpers at your praises and your tightening cunt around his overstimulated cock.

Slipping his softening dick out your hole, you collapse next to him, chest heaving as his cum trickles out of you, staining your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut, and drowsiness finally takes over your overworked body. 

Though, next to you, Leon brews in self-thought. He came after you did all the work, leaving you high and dry. What kind of boyfriend was he?

“You didn’t cum.”

“S’fine, Leon. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you grumbled, blinking your eyes open to glimpse at him. He’s pouting, and despite how endearing you found it when he couldn’t control himself around you, cumming prematurely like some bumbling virgin (he was), Leon still feels like a selfish lover.

“I can still make you cum. Please? You deserve it.” Before you can disagree with him, your brother is awake downstairs, probably looking for him — Leon quickly situates himself between your thighs, eager to satisfy you.

“Y- Yeah, okay, sure,” you stammered, because how could you deny your pretty boy, peering up at you through his long lashes between your thighs?

Spreading your thighs open, hooking them over his shoulders, Leon admires his cum leaking out your hole, stretched out due to his fat cock. You feel bashful as he marvels at your stuffed cunt, moaning in surprise when a glob of his spit falls onto your messy folds mixing with his release.

Hungrily he laps at your cunt, his skilful tongue nudging your overly responsive clit. Leon loves to make you cum with his mouth. He loves to make you feel good, and it’s dirty the way he grinds his once again hardening cock against your sheets, chasing the friction while he messily eats you out, your cunt dripping with arousal mixing with his cum.

You entangle your fingers into his hair, shoving his pretty face further into your cunt, your back arching. Biting your lip, you nearly draw blood, trying to conceal your groans.

He enjoys your pussy like it’s the main course after an appetiser, tasting his salty cum and your contrasting sweet juices as he delves his tongue into your hole. His fingers rub your throbbing clit, and your thighs shake around his head. Leon’s muffled moans and whines reverberate throughout your body, adding heat to the coiling in your tummy. 

���Am I doin’ a good job?” he questions, desperate to be good enough for you before he returns to your cunt, dragging his tongue flat against you.

“You’re amazing, baby. ‘M so close.” His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, leaving indents. You roughly pull at his hair as you climax, your body trembling when Leon moans into you. 

He continues to sloppily make out with your pussy even after your high. When he pulls away from you, a gloss of your combined cum stains his plush lips. He kisses you softly, allowing you to taste both him and you on his lips. 

He helps you into your shorts, pulling his pants up, attempting to look presentable, which is unlikely with the dried cum that stains the fabric of his PJs. He lays in your bed with you, cosying up to you with him in your arms, face in your chest. Caught up in his fantasies, he fails to face reality.

“I think you should leave. My brother might be looking for you,” you mumbled into his hair. Leon huffs in annoyance before untwining with your limbs. He wants to ask since when do you care so much about such trivial things, but he complies. He knows you’re just looking out for him.

[pinkaditty]

If it's not inconvenient, I would like to order Leona with a female reader with prompt 5 18,20 and 30 (if you can't do everything, you can choose just one prompt, I don't want to leave you overwhelmed)

okaaaaaaaaay y’all really poured in req after req after req! like seriously! i was thinking to myself “hmm ill manifest 15 asks” i have fucking 20. (/pos) love u guys woo!! these will get done over the span of a while, but i do ask you all to be patient with me! i am disabled in multiple ways and that does get in the way of my productivity sometimes, but ill do my best to crank these out at least on an evenly-spaced schedule. thank you!

a/n: sub!reader… so many sub!reader asks… i will write these to the best of my ability but i don’t write it often (i don’t really know how to be a sub lol?) so ill do my best to write this in an appealing way without it being cringe. ALSO if u have submitted an ask. I SEE IT I PROMISE!! none of the asks i have received as of now have been against my rules or too much for me to write. I promise I will get to your ask! Please be patient with me!

cw: omegaverse!au (a/b/o), size difference, cock warming, dacryphilia, penetration, fem!reader, sub!reader, not proofread, and leona being a pos as per usual (/lh).

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE AND RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Whenever the haughty prince, Leona Kingscholar, was in a rut, everyone in the palace knew.

Everyone.

The two of you were not quiet, and since he doesn’t like to go anywhere, you would stay cooped up in his room, and all palace staff and residents would make it a point to avoid that area to spare themselves the noise and embarrassment. Neither you nor Leona cared, though. As long as you had time to yourselves, that was all that mattered.

You were currently seated reverse cowgirl on his barbed cock, your puffy cunt stretched wide over the sheer girth. No matter how many times he fucked you silly with it, you could never get used to the size. Thick and long, it filled up the entirety of your cunt and then some, the pointed tip pressing into your cervix. You were shaking and could hardly feel your legs any longer, staying obediently upright on his cock. You didn’t dare move much more than your trembling. He was stretched out on his bed, his arms crossed behind his neck, his eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was sleeping, but the smirk on his face was a dead giveaway, as well as the gentle twitching of his cock within your heat.

The reason your body, quite small in comparison to his, was seated on his groin was to keep yourself plugged up from endeavors just passed. He insisted on it every time. You just had to sit and wait until he was at full mast again, at which point he would tell you to start moving. If simply sitting on his cock was enough to have you trembling, you were sure feeling him slide against your walls would destroy you.

But until then, you were simply seated on his cock. You curled and uncurled your toes, already getting antsy while waiting for some movement. It was becoming pure torture. You knew he was enjoying this. You didn’t have to look at him to know that a devilish smirk accompanied the amused scoff you just heard.

You felt him twitch inside you again. Whether he was doing this to tease you or simply because the buildup was hard to bear, you didn’t know. What you did know was that he was hard, and rapidly approaching full mast. You only had so much longer until his twitching tip eventually kissed your cervix, and you would know it was time to start moving again. You still don’t dare to move much, trying to breathe deeply and keep yourself from losing your mind. Even though you’d been sitting for a while, he was still stretching you out. It’s already such a feat, your small hole somehow managing to fit Leona’s impressive girth. You didn’t know how you were going to take much more, even if you knew you could. You start to get a little dizzy, the overwhelming girth becoming hard to bear. Tears prick the edges of your eyes from the odd mix of pain and pleasure. To better get yourself used to his size, you squeeze your walls around him, squeezing your eyes shut at the same time. Tears roll down your face as you clench yourself tightly, desperately attempting to accustom yourself to the enormous length.

You feel him smack your ass, and you yelp at the sharp pain. You slowly turn your body, your cunt twitching at the sensation of movement, looking at him with tears in your eyes. He whips his tail back and forth in satisfaction, a wide smirk on his face. His sharp eyes narrow at your tears, and his smirk only grows wider as a light chuckle escapes his lips.

“Turn around. Let me see you."

His cock twitched in your heat. He was at full mast.

You slowly turn yourself, gently moving your legs the best you can. Your legs feel like jelly, and you struggle to turn while keeping him inside you. You lift yourself with your arms, gently twisting your legs around. Your cunt twitches more at the movement, and you whimper and bite your lip as you twist. When you finally fully turn, facing him, your arms are struggling to hold yourself up, your legs curled behind you. You are slightly lifted off of his cock, and trying to prepare yourself to slide him back in. You don't dare to look at him, already knowing that he is simply enjoying the show. You slowly lower yourself back down, tears spilling from your eyes. You squeeze your eyes shut at the length filling you again, and a small whimper escapes your lips, tightly pursed to prevent moans from slipping out. Tiny sobs slip out as you finally reach his base, your heat having fully taken in his girth. Your whole body is shaking, and despite knowing what's coming, you hope for a little bit of rest in between. But Leona won't afford you that. No, he likes to be entertained.

“Start moving."

You sob at his words, not sure how you were going to manage this on your own. You'd be a liar if you claimed to not enjoy it, though. You liked how he ensured he was always in control, always entertained. You bite your lip and begin to obey, sliding yourself up and down his length. The sensation of him rubbing against your walls is far too much to bear. Your legs are trembling and your lips are no longer pursed, moans slipping from your lips as you ride him. As painful as his girth is, it is also insanely pleasurable, rubbing against all your sweet spots. He grunts, reaching out to grab your hips and steady your movements. You can tell he's resisting the urge to thrust upwards, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes. The sound of skin on skin, wet copulation, and loud moaning quickly fills the room.

Your eyes roll back, tears still spilling from them. You grab Leona's wrists, attempting to stabilize yourself. You keep moving, lifting and dropping your body carelessly over his length, simply chasing the ecstasy-inducing friction and the building orgasm threatening to rip through you. You can barely focus, your vision all bleary, but you glance at him and notice his wicked smile, staring at your expression. Of course he enjoyed your tears, an obvious sign of how good it all was. You can feel it approaching, and you dig your nails into Leona's wrists, gasping for air at the feeling. Leona is not in much better shape, grunting and groaning, clearly letting the sensations get to him. To spur him on further, you clench your walls on him again, tightening yourself around him. You curl your toes and loudly sob, feeling the orgasm coming. You keep bouncing, chasing it, addicted to how it feels to be full of such a large girth.

Finally, it comes, and rips through you, causing you to clench your walls even tighter and moan loudly, arching your back at the feeling. Leona thrusts upwards only once, burying his length within you, and releasing deep inside you. His hot cum fills you up all at once, and you relish the feeling, the warmth seeping into your womb and settling in.

The two of you pant heavily as you come down from your high. Your muscles slowly relax, and you begin to slouch, catching your breath from the endeavor. Leona recovers far quicker than you, and pulls his arms back, slapping your thighs and smirking at you again.

“Stay put."

And so, you were to stay put, plugged full, at least until he was hard again and ready for another round.

a/n: wooow writing sub!reader is so new and unfamiliar but I did it???? I did it!!!! this is only the first of MANY, MANY asks that I have received. it's like a new one is there every day! thanks so much for submitting all these asks! anyways, I really really hope you all enjoy this, whether you requested it or not! thank you so much for reading, and don't be afraid to like, comment, reblog, or put in a request yourself (please make sure to read the rules and my masterlist)! thank you!!!!

[toomanywatchers]

My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone. 

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

[apdreadful]

There is No Part of My Heart That Doesn’t Belong to You:

Buck’s been standing in Tommy’s garage for five minutes already, waiting for Tommy to say whatever it is that he’d called Buck to come over for..simply saying “I need to discuss something with you”

Currently, Tommy is under the hood of the Pontiac GTO, his attention locked in on the engine beneath his hands. Every minute that passes is making Buck edgier..

When Tommy finally breaks the silence and says “Evan—“

Buck cuts him off “Before you say whatever you’re going to say. If you asked me over here to fucking tell me again that I don’t know what I’m doing. I will…” Buck pauses “do something..” he finishes with palpable frustration.

Tommy looks around the hood of the car and arches his brow “Do..something?”

“Yes…I mean you know Muy Thai so you can probably kick my ass in a fight”

“Definitely” Tommy agrees wryly “I wouldn’t though”

“I will find something” Bucks continues evenly Something that you are NOT ridiculously good at and I would pummel you at it, and then I will bring you home and I fuck you into the mattress until you accept that I am yours, and you were always meant to be mine” Bucks jaw tic’s with exasperation and determination. His words a dark carnal promise.

Tommy stands up, his full attention on Buck and his words. “Now that’s incentive” he breathes “I’m not opposed to any part of that actually” His gaze hot, and like a heavy caress as they flick up Bucks body. “I can’t imagine it will be that hard” he drags that last word out. “I mean, I can fix things and I can fly helicopters. Not exactly that impressive”

“Stop” Bucks snaps “Don’t do that. Don’t make it sound like the only things that you ARE, are the things that you DO. You are worth so much more to me beyond those things. And stop distracting me by being so….fucking hot” Buck adds with a scowl.

“You started it” Tommy points out.

“I am not as green as you seem to think, I have lived a good life” Buck throws his hands up in the air “Everything I have ever wanted to do, I have done. So if you’re waiting for me to give up on you Tommy Kinard. It won’t happen.” He says stubbornly. “One thing I know, is that there isn’t a place on earth, you can’t get into with enough patience and the right tools. And that includes your heart. And I will not stop until it’s mine” Evans blue eyes blaze. His jaw set and his feet planted like he will bulldoze through any obstacle in his way.

But Tommy hears the tremor under the bravado. And it breaks his heart that he has made this man question his feelings for him.

“Evan” Tommy says softly “It already is”

“I mean it” Buck continues “I won’t let you throw what we have..throw US away”

Tommy interrupts “I’m not” he says firmly.

Buck stops and nods to indicate he is listening, gesturing for Tommy to continue.

“Evan, from the moment you sat across from me at that table with that awful cup of coffee, just..” Tommy cards his fingers through his hair in an uncharacteristic sign of nervousness “So ridiculously real..telling me you didn’t know what you were ready for..” He exhales as he closes the distance between them “Turns out it wasn’t you that wasn’t ready..it was me”

Evan’s shoulder’s stiffen, but his gaze remains locked on Tommy.

“I was so not ready for what you would come to mean to me. How loving you and being loved by you would..change everything” his rueful laugh is like an intimate caress as he pulls Buck toward him, wrapping him in his arms and breathing him in until his lung are filled with his scent, with him. “And it scared the shit out of me. Until someone much smarter than me put into words what I’ve known since that minute I kissed you that first time..The world should be full of Evan Buckley’s. But it isn’t…I have the only one” his breath catches and something raw and feral fills his voice as he says “So there isn’t a chance in hell I’m throwing you, or us away”

Evan’s whole body shudders as he relaxes into Tommy’s embrace “Well, it’s about damn time” he mutters.

Sliding his hand to his nape, Tommy guide’s Evan lips to his and claims his mouth for an achingly tender and possessive kiss. Pulling back just enough, he whispers against Bucks lips “There isn’t a part of my heart that doesn’t already belong to you Evan Buckley”

Evan buries his face in Tommy’s neck, wrapping his arms around Tommy as they stand wordlessly holding on to each other.

Buck pulls back just enough to ask “So then what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

With a small shake of his head Tommy whispers “It can wait” and he presses hot open mouthed kisses against Evans throat.

“No. No more waiting. Just hit me with it. Rip the band-aid off”

Tommy groans..searches Bucks face and then with a nod and pinking cheeks he steps out of Bucks arms and walks over to his workbench and picks up a wrapped package there and hands it to Buck.

Buck looks at it. It a lumpy and misshapen, and he opens it with curiousity. He looks down at it sitting in his palm. It’s a keychain. A beautiful stylized metal.

“You made this?” Buck asks. At Tommy’s nod he turns it over a couple of times in his hand “What does it say ‘Evan’?” He looks back up at Tommy.

Tommy shakes his head and turns it around “you have it upside down”

Evan looks down at it as Tommy says “It says Home”. His voice is rough and vulnerable as his hand covers Bucks, his thumb tracing small circles on his wrist “It’s a key, to my house, to this house” Tommy pauses and raises his eyes to Bucks “I want to wake up next to you every morning for as long as I can. So this is an invitation, and a promise, you will always have a place here. If you want it..”

“Yes” Buck whispers and then repeats “Yes” as he crushes his mouth to Tommy’s, a hundred emotions crashing through him as that word echoes, and then settles and takes root deep in his core.

home..

[tyunslvr]

just friends

you couldn't help but wish that yeonjun was just yours.

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: kinda angsty? some fluff?

warnings: (1) mention of alcohol

w/c: ~1k

a/n: it's been a looooong time since i've posted (T⌓T) i hope you enjoy reading this ( *¯ ³¯*)♡

the line between 'best friends' and 'lovers' was a blurry one, you'd like to think. well, maybe it was blurry to you, because you were definitely, irrevocably in love with your best friend.

your said 'best friend' was currently laying on your low, sunken sofa, breathingly evenly and peacefully; sleeping so soundly whilst being painfully oblivious to your predicament. you were watching him from the floor, your back against your small coffee table, which was strewn with books, laptops, and the assignment that he swore that he would do with you today. you scoffed at the thought of it - so much for getting any work done.

you didn't really mind though. moments like this, time felt still. warm, buttery sunlight trickled through your living room window, enveloping the boy on your sofa in a golden glow. you admired him with an aching pang in your heart; moments like this, where time felt still, where it was just the two of you, it really felt like he was yours. but he wasn't. because choi yeonjun was everyone's.

choi yeonjun was the kind of guy that everyone loved, always surrounded by people wherever he went. you understood why - he was sweet, charming, and not to mention, absolutely gorgeous. the kind of gorgeous that still has you in awe even after three years of friendship. tall and lean, he had this effortless aura about him; dark hair always falling gracefully into his eyes, pefectly pouty lips that would always make your heart skip a beat when they streched into the softest smile- yeah, there was no way you were the only one out there wishing you were more than friends.

he was the type of guy that got along with anyone; a social butterfly. so when he first made small talk with you after spontaneously sitting next to you in that one class you shared in freshman year, you didn't think much of it. but then it was followed up with him sitting next to you consistently in that class. running up to you whenever he saw you on campus just to say hi, always with a big grin plastered on his face. doing assignments together, letting him drag you to parties, wasting time at the local arcade, binge watching movies at each others dorms. him calling you his 'best friend' after some months. you held on to that title proudly for so long. it wasn't until the past year did things start to change.

"are you dating yeonjun?" someone had asked once, at one of the parties you went along with him to. your eyes went wide, having heard your relationship with him being questioned for the first time. before you even had the chance to deny, another girl interjected: "no way, they're just friends. yeonjun's friend's with like, everyone" she said in a nonchalant manner.

yeonjun's just a friend. and he has multiple friends. he could be calling other people his 'best friend' too. it all came crashing down on you. did i think i was special this whole time? am i no different from the others? do i...like him more than i think i did?

your alcohol induced train of thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping of your shoulder. you spun around only to be met by yeonjun himself. he had a wide smile on his face, like he was excited to have found you amongst the crowd of people, almost as if you hadn't come to this party together. you stared at him in dismay, and his brows immediately started to furrow, followed by "are you doing okay? do you wanna leave now? i'll walk you back?"

and in that moment, in the dim lighting of someone's dorm, ears ringing from the blaring music, vision focusing only on yeonjun, you realised that you did like him. you liked him so much more than you thought you did.

but it didn't matter. because he was this kind with everyone. because he was everyone's yeonjun.

you found yourself edging closer to the couch, soaking up yeonjun's face dappled in sunlight. without even registering it, your hand was hovering above his face, wanting to trace along his tall nose and his curved lips. you held yourself back, and instead gently moved a strand of his inky black hair that was falling into his eyes.

"...tickles" yeonjun muttered. you jolted back immediately, cursing internally as you realised that in the process of moving his hair, your own was falling against his cheek.

"admiring my beauty?" even in his barely-awake state, he had a small smirk on his face, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. you felt yourself blush immediately; the idea of getting caught, the idea of him actually knowing how you felt was causing you to panic. being friends is better than nothing. i can't lose him completely.

"i-there was a hair on your face?" you managed to splutter out, backing away from him further, your back nearly hitting against the coffee table.

"where are you going? it's my turn" he hummed, and to your suprise, he streched his hand out towards yours, lightly grabbing on to your wrist and pulling you back towards him, resulting in you being even closer to him than you were originally.

you held your breath immediately, hyper-aware of the shortened distance between your faces, hoping that yeonjun couldn't hear the stupidly fast rate your heart was thumping at right now. his hand left your wrist, finding its way to your face. he held it gently, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"beautiful" he murmured, before his eyes fluttered shut, dropping his hand back down so it was hanging from the couch.

you watched as his chest moved up and down with with steady breaths; you didn't know if you were more shocked at the fact that he was asleep again, or the fact that maybe, just maybe, the line between 'best friends' and 'lovers' was blurred for him too.

[nemolfc]

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐩*𝐫𝐧 ( 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐤, 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮.

𝘪'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰

she looked at the text message before proceeding to adjust the straps of the crimson colored lace set she had on, she'd purchased this; stashed it away for the proper moment, the moment that had been halted due to her recurring fear of intimacy from a past relationship which had been an issue in her current relationship, an issue that while he never truly addressed, assuring her that he was willing to wait as long as she needed him to - she knew deep down that there was no point in waiting, especially as the pair have crossed the three year mark in their relationship.

she twirled around in front of the full length mirror, ensuring that everything was perfect before grabbing his old leipzig jersey to slip it on in order to conceal the surprise, then she adjusted her curls evenly to frame her soft features; once she was satisfied with her appearance, she steps out of the bathroom, then the bedroom sauntering towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water in order to calm her nerves - she downs the liquid in leisure sips; just then, she hears the door creak sending her heart racing a hundred miles in an hour, " baba? " she hears him call for her.

" i'm ... -uh-, i'm in the kitchen " she responds shakily, her gaze darting up to meet his as he walked into the kitchen dressed in a plain black t-shirt with matching shorts, she offers him a smile then says with a soft tone, " hi domi "

he walks up to her, closing the distance between them to press a soft kiss on top of her head as he towered over her, " hello baba " his arm wraps around her waist before he proceeded to trail kisses across the curvature of her neck, humming softly, " did you use a body lotion or a perfume because your skin ... " he darts his tongue out, licking a tortuous and leisure stripe before adding. " it tastes incredible "

she bites her lower lip for a moment before responding with a soft tone. " it's part of the surprise ... "

he halts his ministrations, pulling back to give her a confused look before replying, " surprise? " he echoed, " what surprise? "

instead of responding verbally, she interlocks their hands, dragging him towards their bedroom, " baba? " he asks, feeling a tiny bit confused by her motive, the confusion however vanishes instantly the moment she slips off the jersey to reveal what's underneath, his eyes widen in both shock and desire, " what -uh- ... what's all this? "

she blows out a soft breath before murmuring, " three years you've been patient with me, you understood my fears and didn't allow them to affect our relationship, however i'm done with being afraid " she tugs him towards her, her eyes wide and doe like as she whispered in his ear, " i want this domi, i want you "

the combination of her breath fanning against his ear coupled with the feeling of her soft skin sent shivers down his spine; blood rushing straight to his cock causing him to groan then say, " are you ... are you sure? " he asks with a shaky tone, desire enveloping him almost instantly.

" i am more sure than anything " she said, the moment their eyes met.

with raised brows and a faint smile across his soft lips, he leads her towards the full length mirror, he stands behind her and says. " you're so beautiful do you know that? " he whispers, his digits trailing against her cheek eliciting a soft sigh from her lips. " most beautiful girl i have ever seen " he murmurs, nuzzling his face in her neck.

a whine escapes her lips, " domi "

" every day since we met " he begins, inhaling her scent before adding on. " i wonder what i had done in my life to deserve you baba, from your kindness, your big heart " he chuckles, his hand playfully squeezing her breasts to draw out another moan, " to your exceptional talent in spreading color onto this world, i was hooked "

before she could muster a response, his teeth sink into her shoulder drawing out a soft loud moan, he then soothed the markings with his tongue before whispering, " so hooked that i can't imagine a day without you "

he expertly unclasped her bra to loosen the material then remove it, exposing her breasts to the cool air, which shifted the moment he palmed her breasts with both of his hands, " look at you " he murmurs, pressing feather light kisses over her shoulder. " the kind of beauty that can drive any man wild " he rolls her nipples in between his digits, " all mine, aren't you baba? "

" yes " she breathes out, a soft gasp escapes her lips. " all yours dominik "

a deep groan erupts from his lips, " say it again " he squeezed her breasts. " say it! "

" fuck " she whines, " yours, all yours "

satisfied, he trails one hand over abdomen to slip in between her legs to slip underneath her panties, his index trailing over her slick and swollen pussy walls drawing out soft moans from her, he proceeds to whisper in his mother tongue, " Tökéletes vagy, szerelmem "

she'd always loved how gentle he seemed when using his mother tongue, " hm, domi please "

" shh!! " he tuts flicking his digit over clit, drawing a gasp from her lips, smiling at the sight displayed before him, he proceeds to whisper against her skin. " i want to take my sweet time baba "

suddenly, without so much of a warning his index slips inside, curling almost instantly inside of her pussy while his thumb caressed her clit in soft circles drawing out the sweetest sounds from her, " uhm ... " she whines.

" art " he whispers, kissing her cheek. " pure art "

his index is joined by his middle digit, the two of them curling at a much more rougher pace coupled with his thumb rubbing her clit rapidly causing her to whine softly, " oh my god ", he chuckles in response, curling his digits in and out rapidly then he whispers in his ear, " you're gonna cum for me baba? " he grunts then adds, " will you do that for me? make a mess over my fingers "

" fuck, keep going " she sighs, " i'm almost there, oh my god " she cried.

" so perfect " he murmurs, pulling his digits out to lick them clean in front of her, he hums then whispers, " so perfect baba "

suddenly, he turns her to face him, resting one hand over the side of her neck while the other rests on her waist to press his lips entirely over hers. " you're mine " he whispers against her lips, " you're all mine "

" yes " she sighs, allowing him to lead her to the edge of the bed.

" come on baba, you better remove those panties before i rip them apart " he smirks, as he proceeded to undress himself at a leisure pace relishing in the way desire danced in between her eyes, once he was fully bare, he climbs up onto the bed to cage her in his embrace, " are you ready for me sweet angel? "

she nods softly, gasping when his lips trail gentle kisses and bites around her chest, " please ... " she whispers.

" patience baby " he murmurs, using both his lips and hands to pay attention to her breasts; then, he sits up reaching over to grab a condom from the drawer, he tears the wrapper then rolls it over before pulling her into his arms, " now, i need you to be relaxed ok baba, it's going to be painful but it'll soon vanish "

she nods, whispering through labored breaths. " i'm ready "

he spreads her legs gently, his palms rubbing her inner thighs to help her relax. " it's ok baba " he cooed softly.

his thumb starts to rub her clit once again while he teased her pussy with the tip of his cock, " relax " he whispers softly, gently thrusting the entire length inside of her walls, the pair gasping unanimously at the tantalizingly delicious friction. " oh baba, you feel so warm " he groans.

" domi, it hurts " she whines, blinking away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

he kneels down, peppering soft kisses on her cheek. " i know baba, I know, you just have to relax " he cooed in her ears.

a minute had passed before she whispers, " please move " she moans, " please "

he hums in response, nestling himself in between her legs before he started to move at a leisure, torturous pace. " oh baba " he groans, his eyes shut as he relished in the intimate moment they shared, " i ... fuck, your pussy is so warm "

soft whines were the only sounds she could muster as response as all cohesive thoughts seemed to vanish, " domi, don't stop " she murmurs.

" i'm not stopping anytime soon baba " he groans in her ear, " if anything, i don't think i'll stop fucking this pussy, it was worth the wait, so worth it "

in the midst of passionate searing kisses, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, he rests his forehead overs hers as their hips continuously collide against one another, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he whispered, " are you going to cum baba? "

she hums softly, biting down on her lower lip which was pulled out by his own lips as he kissed her passionately, " cum for me " he whispers against her lips, " cum for me baba "

she wraps her arms around his shoulder, releasing a soft cry. " oh my god, yes ... just like that " she whispers, " just like that, fuck "

he grunts then collapses next to her, rolling them over so that she laid on top of him, his hand caressed her back before he murmured in her hair, " how do you feel? "

she lifts her head up, pecking his lips. " perfect " she whispers.

" i'm glad to hear that baba " he smiled, caressing her cheek with his palm. " i love you "

" i love you too " she smiles.

[hey-its-roseaurum]

Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Part II

A/N: Hello again everyone, it's been a minute. I couldn't post this part until @lainiespicewrites finished her part. This part was fun and extremely difficult to write, so if it ends up being a dumpster fire, then I'm sorry. Hopefully not. Anyway hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts.

Synopsis: After the agreement to work with Sherlock, Olivia was given an address to meet and discuss the plan. Once she arrives, she discovers something about Sherlock that not a lot of people get to see.

“221 Baker’s Street.  You didn’t mention that it would be on the second floor Sherlock”  I huffed to myself as I made my way up the stairs.  The night before Sherlock had briefly explained that I had to meet him at a specific location tomorrow.  He said he would give me all the information I needed.  When asked why he couldn’t mention it here, he mentioned he wanted to be safe before revealing crucial details about a case. 

So here I am, trudging up the stairs.  

And I hate every second of it.

But I push through my heavy breathing until I make it to the final step.  It wasn’t until I could breathe evenly that I knocked on the door.

A heavy pause lingered in the air before the door creaked open.

“You’re late.”  A gruff voice sliced the air.  Sherlock stood right in front of me, one hand on the door, the other holding a pipe.  

“Sorry.  I had a hard time finding this place.”  He stepped aside, leaving a glimpse of inside his flat.  A silent invitation.  “You never mentioned that this place was on the second floor.  Those stairs were brutal.”

“One should always have steps, to avoid people stepping on you.”  Sherlock merely stated, his eyes tracking my movements as I passed the threshold into his place.

“Umm…I’m not sure I entirely follow.  But I’m pretty sure-”  I stopped suddenly as my brain caught up with what was happening around me.  The hairs on my neck stood up as I felt my breath catch in my throat.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Everything, even parts of the floor was consumed by documents of varying sizes.  Some were folded, some were ripped.  There were even some with tea stains.  Not one seat, save for one in the middle of the flat, wasn’t covered by some degree.

How can someone live, let alone work, in a place like this?

One of my main pet peeves is cleanliness.  It’s been instilled in me ever since I was able to move.  My mother always said that a clean house is a clear mind.  I tried my best to make my home as clean and decluttered as I could; even when I was at the small cottage.

But to see someone as put together on the outside live in such a state, especially someone like Sherlock Holmes,   says something about their mind…

I bit my bottom lip and drew my attention away from the mess and towards the smoke trailing behind Sherlock.  It took everything in my power to distract myself

“So…what is it that you need me to do exactly?”

Sherlock had traveled to the other side of the flat, completely avoiding the papers.  He puffed on his pipe, his face strained in thought. 

“There is a performance at The Reform tonight.  It appears to be a central location that the suspect likes to visit.  His latest victim had been a showgirl.  I need you to go in and see if you can retrieve any belongings of the two victims.”  My eyebrows creased together in question.

“Pardon?  Two questions.  You mentioned ‘latest victim’.  There’s more than one victim.  Why has it not been mentioned in the newspapers?  Two, if I go in, how do we know that their belongings are still there?  They could be gone by now.”  

“Due to the budget of the showroom and the amount of performers it takes to run a show, the items won’t be touched.  The show requires six performers to perform without any hindrance.  So far the show has five currently.  It will not run unless they have the right number of people to perform all of the acts.  The police haven’t connected the string of murders to one suspect yet.  They believe that there is no connection and no motive between the two.”  So there has been another murder, but it hasn’t been revealed to the public.  Why?  

It doesn’t make sense.  There was only one mention of a death that had claimed to be murder, at least from what I can recall.  The only other thing that has been repeatedly mentioned is about a new entertainment business coming to London.  It had been on the front page three consecutive times.  But the murders and the entertainment show can’t be connected, can they? 

“Olivia, have I lost you?”  Sherlock’s voice grew in my ears like thunder in a growing storm, shocking me out of my thoughts.

“NO!….no.”  I jerked my gaze to meet his.  My eyes trailed back to the ground and focused on each paper.  It took most of my attention to avoid stepping on any of the documents on the ground.  “Please continue.”  Sherlock stared at me momentarily, taking a puff of his pipe before continuing.

“I’ll need you to pose as one of the new dancers hired for the show.  You will be given access to their belongings.  Look for any personal belongings related to the victim, acquire them, and exit before the show begins.  Do you have any questions?”

“One question actually, um…if there are five performers and I’m posing as the sixth one, what is stopping the showrunner from putting me in the actual performance?”  I felt a slight quiver in my voice when the question left my lips.  My nerves felt like they were beginning to light on fire, and my breathing quickened with each passing thought of having to go on a stage.  

“Because there is a sixth performer.  You are to get in and leave before they arrive. Try not to run into them before you get what you need.”

“Oh…ok, great.”  I swallowed hard, feeling my anxiety growing.  How am I supposed to know what I’m supposed to grab?  I don’t know anything about the victim.  What if I take the wrong item?  What if I can’t even make it inside?  Even if I make it inside, there’s no guarantee that I won’t get caught.  If I did then everything would be for naught.  I’d end up in jail with no money to get bailed out.  I would let the victims’ families down, and let the murderer have another chance to strike.  Worst of all, I’d have the greatest detective in the world disappointed in me and regret ever allowing me to work with him.  

Keep it together Olivia.

“You look troubled.  What is it?”  His words sounded far away with the ringing in my ears.  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure.

“It’s nothing.  It’s not pertaining to the case.”  My voice felt out of place like it wasn’t me talking.  I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. I didn’t want Sherlock to know my doubts about this task.  We weren’t as close as I would like to be.  And the last thing I want is to show Sherlock how much of a mess I am inside.  He’d label me as just another person possessed by their own emotions.

I mean I sort of am but I didn’t want to divulge that with him.  It would just add to the list of things he’d be disappointed in.

Stop it

“I don’t want this to affect you when you are out there.  So please get it off your chest.”  There was a slight tilt to his head, his gaze analyzing me.  I could feel him already concluding that I was not cut out for something like this.

“It’s just…”  I trailed off.  How could I tell him that what I was about to do was crazy?  Everything I said when I was back at Edith’s place was completely spur of the moment.  At the time I genuinely thought that I would be able to pull something like this off.  Having it mere hours away from happening felt like I had been dowsed in ice water.

“Olivia.”  Just one word, my name, stilled my thoughts and pulled my attention to Sherlock.  His face had less of an edge to it like his demeanor had shifted and began to morph into something else.  I don’t know what it was but he almost appeared gentle and patient.  It was a complete contrast to what I saw several moments ago.  This was not the same Sherlock that had asked for help a fortnight ago.

This made it almost harder to speak.

“Okay, okay It’s just….” I bit my bottom lip, “why is your place so messy?”  I blurted out, completely changing the topic.  Maybe if I talk about something else I won’t have to show my doubts.

“It’s not messy.  Everything is where it needs to be.”  Sherlock appeared slightly taken aback by my sudden question.

“Right…that’s not what I’m seeing here.  It looks like you’ve just thrown around-”

“You’re changing the topic, Olivia.”  Shit…he knew what I was doing.  I guess I don’t have a choice…

“Okay fine.  I’m just worried about tonight, that’s all.”  A long sigh escaped my lips, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t look like showgirl material.  I mean LOOK at me.”  I stretched out my arms showcasing all the bumps, dips, and curves of my body.  “There’s no way I would pass as one, let alone be able to get through the door.  People like me are the ones who listen to the music and the cheering outside the building.  I don’t want to let the victim's family down, or especially you.”  A heavy presence filled the air, choking the silence.  Sherlock just stared at me.  I don’t know if it was out of shock or if he was reconsidering his decision to bring me into this.  

I don’t care anymore.  I let my insecurity out and hung it up to dry for him to see.  

All he has to do is say the words and I’ll be on my way back to my little damp cottage.

“You know Olivia…”  Sherlock cleared his throat, saying, “It’s normal to feel anxious about an uncertain situation.”  He paused, taking a moment to place his pipe on a nearby table.  “I’m going to give you a piece of advice.  Out there, feelings and being emotional poses a risk.  It is understandable for you, given the danger you may face.  However if you feel like this is too difficult for you, then I won’t force you to do this.  I can find other routes to get what I acquire.  All you have to do is say the word.”

He’s giving me a choice. 

He knows that the situation can be dangerous.  He knows that I’m feeling overwhelmed, but isn’t forcing me to commit.  There’s still a chance to back out, and yet he’s still giving me the option, however much that hurts him.  And if I don’t do this, it’s another chance to be another victim.

I can’t let myself back out.  

“No,”  I paused, collecting myself.    “No, I can do this.  I won’t let my emotions get in the way.”  A pleased look crossed his face, a small smirk threatening to reveal itself.

“Good.  I’ll see you tonight.”

A/N: Thank you to the following people who wanted to see this part happen. Stay tuned for part 3!!

Tag List:

@lainiespicewrites

@shellyshellshell

@xblueriddlex

@rosecentury

[mlm-writer]

Chocolate Milk (GN!Reader)

Pairing: Spock (AOS) x Gender Neutral Ensign Reader (platonic) Rating: General Audience Words: 1320 POV: Second Summary: Your childhood trauma left you near-emotionless. While most find it unsettling, there are some crew members appreciating you just the way you are. Note: Trauma not described, reader's physical traits also not described. I want to say ft. my OC, but he is deadass more present than Spock in this so ft. Spock I guess. Tags: mentioned trauma, platonic/professional appreciation, Ensign Michael Gabe the empath, alcohol mentions but no consumption, red alert and Kirk & Bones have a cameo

One moment the white hallways were too bright for the early hour and the next they were bathed in crimson. ‘Red Alert again?’ You wondered as you broke into a sprint. Red Alert happened at least once a month with captain Kirk looking for trouble left and right, but as far as times of crisis went, you had experienced far more distressing situations in your youth. At least, they felt more distressing as a child still figuring out who you are and why you were put into a world that was described as a utopia and yet so so full of suffering. 

You arrived at your station not a moment too soon. You were gasping for air, just like your colleagues at the stations adjacent to you. Michael’s fingers trembled with every jolt of the ship. “Ensign Gabe, we need a read on their defences. Any weak spot would be appreciated,” the captain urged the man next to you. His blond hair started sticking to his forehead as he calibrated the scanners to adjust for the shields. You focused on your own task, but from the corners of your vision, you could see Michael making mistakes that were uncharacteristic to his intelligence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder. “Michael, deep breaths. You got this.” You spoke softly to him, trying to make sure he was the only one hearing your reassurance. You felt him inhale deeply, holding the air for a few seconds and then releasing it evenly. You were aware the empath could feel everyone's distress. With the physical contact you hoped your calmness stood out in the ocean of unease. The blond muttered a brief expression of gratitude. You occasionally touched his shoulder again, trying to focus his gifts on you so he could stay level-headed. Sure, you could die today, but you knew your task like the back of your hand and you knew Michael did as well, in spite of his nerves giving the wrong idea and his abilities nearly crippling him. 

Things looked dire for a second, but hardly an hour later, you were at warp 4 en route to a space station for repairs. You stayed at your station monitoring repairs to the systems, while Michael left to get a ‘stiff drink’ as he called it. He could probably use it. You noticed how even lieutenant Chua seemed tense as he checked upon the injured on the bridge, calling over the CMO when he thought they might need a trip to sick bay. You watched how he carried the yeoman with a possible broken leg out to the turbolifts. “Ensign?” You realised you had been daydreaming a little. You whipped your head around, worried the SIC was about to scold you. 

“Yes, commander?” Spock was the ever-intimidating presence on the bridge. Very little scared you, but the idea of disappointing your superiors and commander Spock particularly “All repairs are going as expected. We will make it to Sindku station in three hours at our current velocity.” You added your status report after a short pause, hoping that was what commander Spock wanted to hear. 

He did not seem pleased with the answer. Some people would argue there was not a single expression to read on that half-Vulcan face, but you would disagree. You knew the subtle changes too well, have seen them in the mirror plenty of times to recognise them on another. You watched his thought progress, then breathed out a small sigh of relief when Spock seemed to have calculated his next words. “I am aware you have been called to duty during your leisure time. I will assign an on-duty officer to relieve you shortly.” You gave him a curt nod of comprehension. He then left. 

And just as foretold, on-duty officers arrived to relieve the bridge staff that had their leisure time interrupted by the red alert. You decided to check on Michael. He was in the lounge, as expected. You had expected him to be drinking alcohol, but spotted him with a big glass of chocolate milk. “Is that your stiff drink?” You greeted him with those words when you stood next to him. 

Michael looked up at you, a friendly smile plastered on his face. “What can I say? I prefer calories over alcohol.” He raised his half-empty glass as if he was toasting. “By the way, thanks for getting me through that red alert today. I…” he let out a breathy chuckle, “I really don’t get how you can always keep your cool, but I’m really glad to have someone like you around when all I am feeling from everyone else is the looming dread of death.” You gave him a nod and patted him on the back. 

What you wanted to say was ‘you’re welcome, it’s the trauma’, but those jokes have not been funny since the early 21st century, so you opted for a more modern response. “We all have our virtues.” Michael raised his glass again, as if saying ‘I’ll drink to that’. You decided to join him with a chocolate milk of your own. Michael always knew how to get the small talk going. He started off with the latest gossip, then asked your opinion on a personal or a ship matter and after some time, you always ended up talking mathematics. You seemed like total opposites at the bar, one person emoting like a cartoon character, the other virtually a statue. If Michael was not an empath, he would probably assume you never felt a thing in your life, just like everyone else.

The doors behind you slid open and you noticed the surprise on Michael’s face. He tried to hide it, but was doing a piss poor job at it. You turned to see what got him worked up, only to see commander Spock waltz in. The man was only here when he wished to speak to someone privately and he was heading straight for your chocolate milk hang out. Michael whispered he was worried Spock noticed his small panic today, but then you were the one requested to follow him to a less populated corner of the lounge. 

You had no idea what you did, but you left your chocolate milk at the bar and joined Spock near the windows. “I meant to say this on the bridge, but it seemed inappropriate with the company present,” Spock started. You hummed, eyes locked together like you were having a stare-down. “I would like to commemorate you for your attitude during crisis response, both on the bridge as we have seen today and in the field as we have seen last week on Unico IV. I will put in a request to have you promoted to lieutenant junior grade. Should you remain equally level headed with more responsibilities thrust upon you, I believe you will, in time, make an excellent captain.” 

You were quiet for a moment, trying to take in the unexpected compliments. “Thank you, sir.” It was all you could really say. Spock responded with a polite nod and then made his leave. You blinked as you stood there momentarily. When you were ready, you returned to Michael at the bar. He was chatting up one of the red shirts again, the ever sucker for muscular men. When he saw you though, he slipped off his seat, taking the two glasses with him. 

“What did he say?” Michael asked as soon as he was in front of you, handing you your leftover chocolate milk. You paraphrased Spock’s words, leaving Michael gasping and squealing. “That is so amazing! Slay mama!” He somehow managed to make air come out of your nose at a high velocity. You tapped your glasses together. He seemed happier than you, but you let him celebrate for you. Captain? You? You could hardly imagine it right now. Meanwhile Michael was already planning on being your SIC. 

—————

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[the-fabled-void]

So those afterdeath and colorkiller playlists sound interesting

I have one song I choose for Afterdeath, and I currently only have one for ColorKiller

Analysis under the cut!

Afterdeath

Playlist:

Song: My Love Is Sick

(same singer and album as the other)

"My love is sick

It leaks and bleeds

All over me onto my nicest shirt"

Geno's pov, both in reference to his blood/determination and to how he feels like his love would only lead to people getting hurt

"Vines without roots

Like knives in my body

And I am their puppet

Twisting ‘til I hurt"

Loving again after so long of only being trapped, either alone or with the kid who's his killer

"My love is sick

I’m running a fever so high

I peel my skin to breathe"

Geno feels like getting close to someone will harm him, he feels the way it's draining him

"Birds without cages

Find perch on my ribs and I

Stitch myself back up to keep them in"

Reaper, with wings, and kinda bird mannerisms. And Geno knowing that, no matter how much it hurts him, he's already attached. He's going to ignore anything that hurts him, and he's also so dependent on him, it's so painful when he leaves

"You’re an infection

I am keeping

No matter the sepsis

You are staying

I’d rather the wound

Than have you removed

Enough rotting for two

Killing me, keeping me high"

I think... They aren't exactly that good for each other, not 100% in this version. They're not perfect, but despite that, they're both equally attached

"My love is sick

It’s messy and wrong

But I pray for a bit of contagion

Hands without fingers

Like spoons at the source

Coat evenly

Oh, won’t you touch me?"

Perhaps Reaper is a bit more openly affectionate (not flirty pervert, just... desperate love-starved) and Geno wants to allow himself to feel this affectionate too

"You’re the cure

You’re the curse

You make it better

You make it worse

You’re my killer

And my Christ

(But I’m the one twisting the knife)"

They're both making each other better by giving each other affection and company they need, and yet they also make each other worse by giving the other something they can only get from the other

"My love is sick

It’s taken me whole

I’m simply a host to a haunting

Ghosts without corpses

Still linger in flesh

Holding on to a love they keep wanting"

They feel like their relationship to each other defines them now?

-

Okay okay, for

ColorKiller

so far it's only one song so I'm analysing that one

The situation I'm imagining is, they're in the omega timeline, they're living together there and Killer is in stage one, newly left nightmare's gang

Song: Dogbird by Madds Buckley

"Sorry that I’m scared of thunder like a dog

I know that you love rain

But I cry when something shakes the walls

Tail between my legs

I scratch while you relax

Ruffling feathers watching storm clouds pass"

Killer isn't used to this normalcy, talking to the other inhabitants, he prefers to stay away

"Hoping I’ll make you hate the thunder too

Digging in my claws will make you hate me too"

A part of Killer wants to hurt Color, just to see what happens, if he'll hate him

"I can’t stand you in my bed

You’re too gentle

I need you to hurt me back instead

I wish I could take you back to California

Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me

Little Bird won’t you fly away

Little Bird won’t you fly away"

He doesn't think he deserves being treated nicely by him or by others, he's warning him, seeing himself as a ticking time bomb

"And sorry that I roll over to my folks

It’s not that I’m ashamed

But they keep me on the leash to choke

I’m a hunting breed

And bird is all they eat

If they sniff you out, they gnash their teeth

I’m a coward scared of living outside

Even if it means I crush you at my side"

Keeping the idea of the first part to myself for a possible animatic, but the second part of that is basically, Killer is so afraid of other people, he's become dependant on Color and he's fully aware of it, but he can't help it

"I can’t stand you in my bed

You’re too gentle

I need you to hurt me back instead

I wish I could take you back to California

Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me

Little Bird won’t you fly away

Little Bird won’t you fly away"

Same thing as the first time this is sung... Unless

"When the bell rings

My mouth waters

I’m a habit

That won’t alter

I’m an instinct

Don’t you fear me?

Hunting songbirds in my sleep"

Kinda off topic, I love the first line being 'when the bell rings, my mouth waters', it's a reference to classical conditioning aka Pavlov's dog. The theory stating that if you pair something you typically don't have a reaction to (bells) with something you have a reaction to (food) enough times, you'll be reacting to the first thing (the bell) with the reacting you'd usually only react with to the second thing (mouth watering at food)

So anyway, Killer reacting to Color scolding him for something with violence or submission because he's used to getting hurt when he's scolded

Bonus, he feels like he can't control his other stages, so he describes them as more animalistic

"Sorry that I don’t treat you like I should

I only lick my wounds

Teeth bared, and snap

“You’re all that’s good”

If I chase you away

I’m back to chasing tail

Running circles after what was real

And maybe one day I’ll catch it, and I’ll cry

Wishing that little songbird was still mine"

Killer when he realizes he chased Color away thinking that's the consequences of his actions (i also have a lot of thoughts related to Color himself)

-

And that's both songs! I still have more for Afterdeath. Let me know if you want any more analysis in general

[itspileofgoodthings]

OKAY I have missed counseling 3 times in a row and I really need to process some stuff so this is me celebrating some TEACHING WINS as of late because things have been really hard!

—More writing is happening! More revisions of writing are happening. The gap between student writing being automatically boring, processed, disconnected from any actually thought and interesting, thoughtful writing—writing as a way OF thinking and sorting through thoughts in a logical way—is closing. Or at least narrowing.

—Classroom procedures are in place and I have to do very little to enforce them. There is (generally speaking) order in each classroom and the students’ habits, not my nagging, keep them in place.

—I am filling class time better and more effectively. There’s more variety in the structure of each class but also the time is just used better. They work bell to bell. In-between spaces are filled with review, oral work, discussions.

—Day to day work with the written text is becoming more specific. Tasks have been created in connection with a work that grew organically out of my teaching of them. There are more of these as a way to keep students paying attention to the reading/note taking. But the broad strokes, the chances to pause and discuss and see the bigger picture, are still happening. I’m starting to see the way the two layers and approaches work together to lift most of the students into an understanding of the story.

—There is still room for fun. Both in the specific sense—there are a few more games, review opportunities, creative exercises and chances to explore and engage with the text in a fun, non-academic way than there where before —but also in the very specific Maria way where I let my passion and knowledge for the work really show and carry them up on a wave, so to speak. This keeps the students interested, intrigued, and anxious not to miss one of the moments of fun.

—I feel like I’m reaching a more complete approach that tackles the basic skills of all my classes—reading, interpreting, discussing, writing—more evenly. Their opportunities to do all of those things is better balanced and woven together than it has been. The opportunity to practice each thing recurs and recurs again so that their sense of how to actually DO a thing—at least by my measurement of it—is improving.

—The specific qualities that I want to bring to each class are growing more distinct. My 8th graders vocabularies are expanding as is their grammar. My sophomores are establishing surer connections with outside scholarly voices on each of the texts we read which help them jumpstart actual independent thinking and interpreting. And my seniors are given the chance to connect the readings to their own lives and most importantly current concerns more than they used to.

I think that’s it :))))

[willtheweaver]

A writer’s guide to forests: woodlands made by man

Forests are for the most part, the realm of nature. But what about those with a less than natural origin? Here are some woodlands that are shaped artificially.

Parks and gardens- Trees look nice, there’s no denying it. As long as there have been people who admire trees, there have been gardens and parks. Grassy meadows, neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds may get all the attention, but an accenting grove, or a rambling woodland always adds to the aesthetic. Wealthy aristocrats would import trees from far away places, while more modest landowners and public spaces grow native species. Though the results do look quite natural, they are nonetheless human creations.

Orchard- Fruit and nut bearing trees have always been favored as a reliable source of food. And so people since nearly the beginning of agriculture have been planting orchards to provide for them. Trees are planted in rows, evenly spaced apart for the ease of harvesting. Smaller orchards, those catering to families who pick their own fruit, and those that grow fairly delicate fruits still do the harvesting by hand, while many more rely on machines to do the heavy lifting.

Tree farm/ plantation- Many trees types cultivated are deciduous species, but there are some instances when conifers are preferred. Being relatively fast growing, and usually possessing a single, straight trunk, they are the ideal tree type for use as lumber and paper products. Of course, one cannot forget the need every November and December for Christmas trees.

Palm plantation- The tropics are ideal for growing oil palms. Thousands of acres are devoted to the tree, as so much of our food and other products these days relies on palm oil. This is not a good thing as the demand means that vast areas of rainforest have had to be cleared. In Indonesia, the problem is particularly evident, as the growth of palm plantations is one of the main factors behind the decline of orangutan numbers.

Coconut grove- Almost anywhere you go in the tropics will have coconut palms. Buoyant, the nut floats easily on the currents, and where it is too isolated for a coconut to reach naturally (such as Hawaii), people have brought it with them. As well as the coconuts, the palms themsevles are also used; palm fronds can be used for roofing, and the fibers are used in weaving.

Bonsai forest- The art of growing miniature trees has been practiced for centuries. Some trees are collected in the wild, harsh natural conditions causing the trees to grow slowly and stay small, but many more are shaped over many years. While many bonsai are grown singularly, groves and forests are also popular choices. These can be either monospecific, or mixed, and can be part of a larger landscape creation that includes rocks, water, and figures.

There are plenty of examples of forest areas that are man-made. Don’t feel like you have to confine your story to a natural woodland. Use what you find around you to inspire the setting and drive your characters and the plot. What happens on the earth can easily be applied to science fiction or fantasy. Put your own spin on it (maybe your characters are small and live in a bonsai forest…of course they could also be normal sized people who happen to be in a giant sized bonsai planting).

Edit: As pointed out in the comments/reblogs, I seemed to have forgotten woodlots, so I am going to include those.

Woodlot- Common areas open to members of the community include a mixture of open pastureland and forested areas. People would have their flocks and herds forage here in spring and summer, whilst they managed and harvested the trees. Trees in woodlots would not be felled, instead the branches would be cut back and allowed to regrow. The resulting growth produces straight branches that are used in constructing walls, fences, as well as firewood and charcoal. (Communal pastures and woodlots are not really thought of these days, as many areas were lost over the years due to industrialization, urbanization, and the enclosure of land by the aristocracy)

[rjthirsty]

A Silvio/Kasey drabble I pumped out. I thought I'd make it sexy, but instead, it turned into angst. Oh, well. I still love them together.

“How are ya’ still in bed?” Silvio grumbled as rounded the corner of his large mattress to make his way to his desk. The chair clattered loudly as he pulled it out and groaned with the way he dropped his weight into it.

In his bed, Kasey stirred, being rudely awoken from their nap. They rolled under the covers, throwing their annoyed gaze in Silvio's direction. “I am a guest with no tasks. It's very easy to stay in bed when I have no reason to get up.”

Silvio clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Asshole.” Kasey responded.

Heaving a sigh, Kasey pushed themselves out of bed. Their body was more achy than usual due to the activities they had gotten up to last night with their bed partner, who was currently ruining the rest that Kasey needed for recovering. “If you're going to be so boorish, I'll leave after we've fucked next time. It's not as if I have attachment issues that manifest after coitus and need to press someone against me to stave off the loneliness. I prefer my own bed to be empty.”

Silvio cut Kasey a threatening glare that they didn't seem to notice. Their sharp words had cut Silvio to the bone. They were far more scathing than usual. Kasey shrugged on a shirt, leaving it opened and unbuttoned while they ambled about the room collecting their clothing that had been discarded carelessly last night. They were moving slower than usual, and it almost looked as if they were limping.

“What's your problem? You've got a nasty– make that nastier attitude than usual this morning.” Silvio watched them slowly gather their clothing. They were definitely moving at a pace meant to mask an injury.

“Mn. Yes. Some asshole has it in mind that my activity level is his to comment on. I didn't ask for your opinion, and if we're giving unsolicited observations, I thought I'd share mine.” Kasey stepped into their boxers and trousers, pulling them both up at the same time.

“The hell, Kasey?” The two of them traded barbs from time to time, but it was never malicious or hurtful. A little rough teasing they traded as fun banter. But this wasn't that. Kasey was stabbing deep and twisting open the wound.

They let out a long sigh, their eyes closed and head tilted towards the ceiling. An inhale and a purse of their lips, and suddenly, their red eyes were trained on Silvio with a detached expression. “Look, Silvio, I'm not interested in having you berate me for lounging after last night. It was great– it always is. You're a good lay. If going back to my guest room will prevent that, that's fine with me. You started this.”

“Hang on, did I push you too hard last night?” He stood from his chair and took a step closer to Kasey.

They shook their head with a smirk, turning away to thwart Silvio's attempts at showing concern. “Nothing more than usual. Don't flatter yourself.”

“Then what's with the way you're moving?” Silvio's heavy boots thudded on the polished tile floor as he moved.

Kasey turned their back on him again, hastily buttoning up their shirt and heading towards the door. “I'd rather not get into it.”

“You're acting like you're hurt. Sit down for a second, tell me–” Silvio grabbed their arm at the crook of their elbow and pulled them to turn them to face him. But when he did, Kasey's eyes burned dark with ignited rage in a look that could have slit his throat.

“Don't. Pull. Me.” They said each word evenly. Deliberately. Making it clear there was no room for discussion in this demand. Silvio may be the King of this castle, but he wasn't allowed to do whatever he pleased. His hand released Kasey's elbow at once, though he kept his palm touching their arm, his fingers splayed out in an open hand.

Kasey took a slow, quiet breath. A blink smothered the inferno in their eyes, but a dull, dispassionate disinterest was aimed at Silvio. “I am capable of positioning myself without your assistance, thank you.”

“Alright. I didn't mean to– mmrph!” Kasey clasped their hand over Silvio's mouth to keep him from speaking. He glowered at them. The hint of a smirk twitched at the corners of their mouth, but their eyes continued to smolder like burning coals.

“Shhhh.” Kasey leaned closer as they hushed him, dropping their voice lower as well. “I'm going to my room. IF you are so inclined to have my company later, you can find me there. But not right now. And we are done here. Nod.”

Their eyes met. Hard glare met hard stare, and Silvio dipped his chin to nod in understanding.

“Good boy.” Kasey gave a smile that was too practiced and stepped backward before pulling their hand away from Silvio's mouth. Then they turned and strode out of his room, leaving a stunned Silvio staring after them.

“The hell….?”

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

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Entry 21

Current Moon Phase: Full Moon / Cold Moon 🌕

We are almost two thirds of the way through the werewolf games and I feel it prudent to recount the results.

Wrestling:

I was rather excited to see that the next game was wrestling. I have, for some time, wished to test my strength and cunning against that of a werewolf's (other than Enid, of course). The werewolves again were divided among age brackets, I assume for more evenly balanced matches; for I could easily see Enid defeating the smaller wretched gray wolf that is her mother.

I decided to observe a few games to gain a better understanding of what was and wasn't permissible. Once I was satisfied with the knowledge gained I rejoined Enid, her brothers, and her cousins. I waited patiently for a challenge that did not come. I was rather disappointed that Enid did not view my exclusion in this particular game as a problem. My displeasure only grew as I was rejected, this time not over fear, but because they found it amusing.

My challenges were either ignored, laughed off, or flat out rejected. I frowned as I watched Enid challenged by almost everyone in her age bracket while I was sequestered to the sidelines. I believe Enid took some sort of pity on me for she attempted to converse with me in hushed woofs while gesturing at myself and her brothers as if to explain why I wasn't included in the games.

'I am afraid your explanation is lost on me.' I stated in a rather disgruntled manner. 'It was my understanding that I was permitted to participate in these games. Is that not the case anymore?' I asked. Enid hemmed and hawed. She scratched the back of her head and sighed before gesturing again.

'What requirement am I not meeting?' I demanded and then it hit me. 'Wait…' I shook my head and patted Enid on the shoulder. 'I think I see now.' While I did not consciously think about it, all the werewolves were nude. Of course this was nothing new but it made particular sense as to why clothing could be seen as an unfair advantage in this event. Enid headbutted me gently in apparent relief that I now understood.

'You should have told me this game required me to be in the nude.' I said, patting her muzzle. Her eyes widened unexpectedly. I began slipping off my jacket and snood. Enid started barking rapidly and grabbed my jacket. 'Enid, I do not require your assistance in removing my clothes.' I said delicately. 'Though I know you are quite efficient at it.' I said with a slight grin as I kissed her muzzle. Enid yipped but continued fumbling with my jacket. Perhaps her paws lacked the same dexterity as her hands for she accidentally kept pulling it back on.

'Mi amor,' I raised my eyebrows in surprise. 'You seem to be struggling. Please, I assure you I can do this on my own.' Enid however kept her grip on my jacket and continued barking and whining in hushed tones. I wondered if her claws hadn't gotten stuck. I decided to spare her the embarrassment and quickly ducked down and slipped out of my jacket with ease. Enid yelped, likely as I had just proven why clothes were not permitted.

Her brothers and cousins slowly wandered over to investigate the commotion as Enid failed miserably at helping me shed my clothes. Despite her best efforts she only hindered my progress. Just as I had reached my shirt Enid suddenly pounced on me, pinning me to the ground. I blinked slowly. I hadn't known Enid was so eager to challenge me that she had become impatient.

'I accept your challenge but,' I began with a small nod, 'I am still clothed.' Enid tilted her head to the side and let out a strangled bark. Had I not known any better I'd say she looked confused. 'Por favor, allow me to fin-' My words were cut off as Enid picked me up. Evidently the match had already begun. I was a lit most delightedly as I quickly wriggled out of her grasp. Enid yelped and lunged for me rather clumsily. I side stepped her reaching paws with ease and kicked off my shoes.

Enid redoubled her efforts and scrambled to her feet. Her fur stood on end as she dove at me again. This time she managed to grab my ankle. I twisted and turned and managed to slip out of my sock. Enid yapped loudly and huddled towards me with a speed I had not known her capable of. I was ensnared in her arms once again as she held me remarkably firm. I managed to free one of my arms and clawed at the dirt. Enid slapped a paw over my hand. I worked my other arm free but she grabbed that too.

She was whining and snarling as she pinned both my arms behind my back with a single paw. I tried to kick my legs out but she promptly lay atop me. I huffed as I struggled fruitlessly against her overwhelming strength. Enid lowered her head and growled rather menacingly in my ear. The sound sent shivers down to my core. This was a most inopportune time to become aroused. Enid made to switch her paws that gripped my arms behind my back but apparently her claws had gotten caught in my braids.

As she moved her paw she unintentionally yanked on my hair. Fortunately the moan that escaped my lips was a quieter one. I could feel Enid's whole body tense above me. She hurriedly freed her claws and slapped a paw over my mouth. I closed my eyes as I tried to control myself. Enid was breathing hard but her grip did not lighten. It was painfully obvious that I had lost but I was not ashamed to admit it. I expressed as much but my words were muffled against her paw. She hesitantly lifted it. 'I submit.' I breathed as I fought back another moan. Enid quickly pressed her paw back over my mouth and whined loudly.

I could hear her brothers failing to stifle their mirth at my loss. Enid snarled at them before finally letting up. I lay panting for a minute before Enid bundled me back into her arms. Her ears were flicked back and she made haste to pick up my discarded articles of clothes. 'Amore…' I couldn't help but stare at her in admiration. Enid huffed in what sounded like exasperation. 'Mi loba…" I continued softly. Once she had gathered all my clothes she hurried off with me for some reason.

Swimming:

Enid was rather surprised I did not take part in this game. I informed her that as much as I enjoyed the idea of being submerged in frigid water, I unfortunately did not know how to swim. Enid lost this event to one of her older brothers but not by much.

Tracking and Evading:

This game was rather unique as it was two games split over two evenings. It was also a partnered game, where one would be the tracker and the other the evader. The roles would then switch for the subsequent night. For once I did not struggle to find a willing challenger. Several of Enid's family were open to the idea of partnering with me over this event. Perhaps they were finally adjusting to my presence? Be that as it may, Enid was rather insistent that I partner with her.

I accepted as I could not deny mon coeur. We set about deciding who would be the predator and who the prey. It was settled that I would track the first evening and evade the second. Once everyone was set the evaders sprinted off into the wilderness. They were to be given a half hour head start before we engaged them in pursuit. I was particularly determined to succeed in this event, not for the glory of victory but to prove to myself I would never lose Enid again as I had on the night of the Hunter's Moon.

And so when it was time for us to track down our target I was filled with a scorching ambition. I tore off in the night as my eyes raked the ground for clues. I had predicted this to be more of a challenge with the addition of several other werewolf footprints overlapping with Enid's. Yet surprisingly enough, Enid's footprints were easy enough to distinguish from that of her kin by shear size alone.

Though it took almost an hour I did succeed in finding my prey. I found Enid up a tree and wagging furiously when I finally spotted her. Before I could begin to scale the tree she leapt down. I captured her paw in my hand and placed a single kiss upon it.

By the time the second evening had come around I had thoroughly planned how I would evade Enid. I would backtrack of course but I would also mask my scent about halfway through the given head start.

I decided to go with a rather unassuming scent: a wolverine. I was most fortunate to come across one's den when I was tracking Enid the previous night. However, smell was only half the battle. I would also need to cover my tracks, so finding a branch or palm fronds was a priority.

Once the game began I made certain to make several loops, double back, and walk through the paw prints left by the others. With our allotted time almost expired I sought out the wolverine den from earlier. With wolverines primarily being nocturnal creatures I did not anticipate there being any present in the den upon my arrival… I was mistaken. The animal was understandably upset at my intrusion.

While fleeing from the enraged creature I attempted to collect dirt from around its den to cover my body with. Seeing as I was preoccupied it was of no surprise I lost my footing and happened to tumble down a small cliffside. I obtained several bruises and abrasions, the latter being the most detrimental to my task of evasion. I cursed profusely at my own folly and attempted to quickly return to my feet, only to discover I appeared to have injured my ankle. Continuing to curse but unwilling to accept defeat I limped towards a low tree that looked simple enough to climb.

To the surprise of no one I was soon found. One of Enid's brothers discovered me first and began howling urgently. I attempted unsuccessfully to silence him by throwing small projectiles at him such as twigs and branches. More of Enid's family soon appeared with Enid not far behind. I'm sure it was quite the sight for her to behold, as her brothers tried in vain to get me out of the tree. Enid hurried toward and scaled the tree with ease.

I sighed as I accepted her assisted victory and allowed her to remove me from my failed hiding place. I was brought to the ground where many of her family members began sniffing me over and whining softly. Enid yelped when she saw me stumble upon my injured ankle. She scooped me back into her arms and started huffing. There appeared to be some sort of discussion as to what should be done with me. Enid was kind enough to translate what had transpired later. Apparently many had volunteered to run me to the nearest hospital. The elder werewolves disapproved of this idea, citing the hysteria that would come from a werewolf sighting.

Eventually a conclusion had been reached. Enid would call me an 'Uber', some sort of taxi service where a stranger would come retrieve me in an unmarked vehicle and transport me to my intended destination. It sounded rather thrilling, with the prospect of danger, yet in actuality was quite dull and safe.

At the hospital I was informed that I was suffering from a greenstick fracture. This unfortunate turn of events would significantly impact my ability to participate in the games as my injured ankle was placed in a cast.

Sprinting:

It was painfully evident that I would be greatly disadvantaged in this game. I resigned myself to sitting this one out as Enid continued to fuss over me. I told her to win for me in my stead. She finally cracked a smile and snorted in my face before giving me a lick. While I did not care to stand idly by as a spectator, I did enjoy watching mi loba compete. Enid was victorious as I knew she would be.

Lifting:

I was surprised to see a decent handful of the older werewolves sit this game out. Enid's grandparents kept me company as I watched Enid lifting boulders of steadily increasing size. They fawned and fretted unnecessarily over my minor injury and sought to keep me comfortable. I was forced to remain seated and keep my foot elevated. Enid unsurprisingly won this game as well. I imagine the boulders did not compare in weight to the Hyde creature she so effortlessly threw about all those years ago.

[helenofsimblr]

Cat: I do like bonus points! I hope it's painless for your sake, Franny. I need to make you aware of Kali's tactics so far. She's a maniac, supped up on some kind of mystery drug and she's irrational.

Elita: Francine checked her notepad which had some polaroids of the ruined house.

Francine: I've heard she's a bit spicy, and while I am sorry for my unfortunate colleagues, that is gold in terms of building our case. Your soon to be ex wife isn't the brightest lamp in the street is she?  And drugs? Let me write that down, do you have any idea what she's hooking up on? I mean, I am guessing it's got to be some serious steroids or something?

Cat: She's military trained, it was a drug tested by the military for super soldiers. I was told that it was discontinued and canceled, but she got a hold of it somehow. She came to me on a work trip to Sulani ripped like an ancient God... when I left her she was half that size.  tried to hide herself and made a fool of me in front of important people on the island. I came back here right before the station dropped and was unable to return home. She would have rather me risk my life getting home than to say goodbye to me on the phone... I wish I'd thought to record that, what she said was awful. Sorry, I'm rambling.

Francine: Don't apologise, we need these details. 

****

Francine: Well she's obviously changed - not for the better - and if this is some military thing... actually, Nickie Catzenburg was at a press conference ranting about super soldiers... I digress..., she is clearly causing you a lot of emotional and mental duress… you look very tired.

Cat: I am tired. Kali’s just been lurking and it's driven me a bit mad. I'm terrified she's going to hurt me and more terrified she's going to hurt you for me talking to you. You seem young, but come with high praise. I just want to be free of her and get myself a good long restraining order, grab my stuff and run. I just want to be free. Even the police have been avoiding me now as of late... though one fellow keeps in touch, Officer Jimmy. He's the only one who keeps checking in on me.

Francine: Ah, I have heard on the grape vine he is getting married to Lysa Robinson... he's a brave man...anyway... if you want a restraining order then we're going to go in for a "fault divorce." That is, we're going to say it's mostly if not ENTIRELY, Kali's fault that the marriage ended. We will be using a variety of methods to highlight that, so they will be given the chance to settle out of court based on what we will compile, or they go to court, and we air some seriously dirty laundry in public.

****

Cat: That Jimmy? Oh gods.. Lyra is a great friend of mine since childhood. I had no idea he was that Jimmy. I'm going to have Lyra tell him to stay away from me. Lysa has a daughter now. What else can I do to help you, Franny? If we can get this going. I will buy you a round of drinks in celebration.

Francine: So, for our restraint we want no contact via any currently existing or yet to exist forms of communication. We want your stuff. I will need some details of what that “stuff” is, but you can send that to my assistant.

Cat: I don't care about the house, I just want my clothes, some pictures and a few bits and pieces. I've already pulled my savings and put it in another bank account anyway. I did all that I could to manually separate me from her.

Francine: Ok that's great, now usually the house and the money is divided evenly however in this case we will be making an appeal that given the damage caused to the furnishings and other chattels that we want the full value of those savings as compensation for mental and emotional disruption.