but i ended up cropping it

where do all these retailers get off calling pants that go up to the bellybutton “high-waisted”. no. fuck you. that’s called “mid-rise”. i want to wear a crop top and not have a single inch of belly showing. i want to be able to button my pants over my tits. are you listening? you’re not listening. i want my shirt to feel redundant. i want to feel like i’m being vored by my own pants. bad-end, six pages into the comic,

crimson-chains  asked:

Prompt: Poor, underpaid, overworked Chihoko Pizza Delivery employee has to deal with unreasonably angry Mafia boss Victor. This has happened on many occasions. This time he's had it. He fights back.

“For the last time, I don’t know anything about your b–”

“Stop lying to me, you worthless piece of rotten fish. I can see the call log history.”

The sigh at the other end of the line sounded beyond defeat. Victor could nearly taste the sweet, savory success. Generally, Victor did not consider himself to be the jealous type. Yuuri was perfectly entitled to having friends and connections outside their relationship, but something about Chihoko rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe because it was that unlike all of Yuuri’s other friends, Yuuri never brought up Chihoko in conversation. Unlike his journalist friend Phichit or the cadet Minami, who often cropped up when Yuuri was chatting to Victor about his day.

But there was radio silence on Chihoko. And it bugged Victor.

Since the day when Yuuri oh so trustingly handed Victor his phone to show him a few cute photos of puppies during a date that had the both of them melting. And Victor had really not meant to invade Yuuri’s privacy. He was just curious about how exactly Yuuri had saved his name amongst the contacts, only to be flattered to see that he was listed in Yuuri’s speed dial.

Except there was one problem.

This ‘Chihoko’ was ahead of him. And it wasn’t any of Yuuri’s friends, or relatives. Normally Victor wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But next to the name 'Chihoko’ was a little '♡’ symbol. And THAT Victor wasn’t all that okay with. Not when a quick and sneaky (and admittedly very very very guilty) check of Yuuri’s call log showed that he called this 'Chihoko ♡’ every week. Usually quite late in the evening. On days he told Victor he couldn’t meet for a date because he was “working late.”

So maybe, perhaps, it was possible, that Victor got a bit uncharacteristically jealous.

“Look, sir, if you’re not going to order–”

“I’m ordering you to keep your paws off my Yuuri!” Victor snapped, wondering if it would be too dramatic to track 'Chihoko ♡’ down and remind them that swimming with fishes was still as effective a technique as ever, despite it being a bit old fashioned. Probably too dramatic. Besides, Otabek had mentioned being out of town for the weekend…

“If you keep this up, I’m going to call the police–”

“You call him and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, Chihoko. I will personally ensure it.” Victor growled out his warning, heard a choked-gasp from the other end of the line, and then pressed the 'end call’ button hard enough he could nearly feel the screen crack. He felt oddly satisfied with himself for the rest of the day.

That was until Yuuri called him later, apologizing and saying that he had to work late again and that he would probably not be able to make their scheduled date. The regret in Yuuri’s voice was genuine, but Victor still bristled just a little, until Yuuri continued and asked if Victor still wanted to come over to Yuuri’s place even if it would be later than originally planned, for an eat-in dinner.

Victor’s foot snagged on the carpet as he hastened to reply with a delighted, “Yes, yes, of course!”

“Cool. I don’t think I have anything at home I can cook quickly, would you mind if we ordered a pizza or something? It’s not great but… I thought it’d be nice just to relax on the couch with you and be a bit lazy after how crazy this week has been…”

There might have been another pang of guilt at the center of Victor’s chest, with the knowledge that the reason for Yuuri’s increased amounts of overtime had a direct relationship to the escalation of tension between Victor’s and JJ’s gangs. So of course his answer was, “Anything you want, darling.” He could practically hear the blush spreading across Yuuri’s beautiful face, still getting used to the sweetnames Victor dropped so frequently.

“Okay, ummm, I’ll see you at my place at nine then? Can you order from Chihoko’s Pizzeria? They’re my favorite, and they don’t charge delivery for a large.”

Victor froze. Choked on a bit of air. Shattered into a couple million pieces of embarrassment and then puzzled himself back together. “Uhh, yeah, sure, of course! Not a problem.”

Turned out to be a big problem.

Victor had to fumble through several dozen excuses and explanations when their Hawaiian arrived at the door with no pineapple, no ham, a sprinkling of cheese in the shape of a sad face, and several servings of anchovies.

Victor never called Chihoko ever again.

The Domestic Garden Witch: Living in the Gutter

So maybe you’re a college witch with limited space and money, limited to the one window in your dorm. Or, maybe you’re a witch without extensive backyard space who wants to start up a magical garden. Perhaps you’re a kitchen witch who wants the freshest herbs right at her fingertips.

For many witches, having a garden seems to be a bit of a no-brainer. After all, plants and magic go hand-in-hand. Plus, when thinking of a witch, it’s hard not to think of a cottage in the woods with a little vegetable garden out front. Unfortunately for the majority of us, our cottage in the woods is a tiny flat, and our garden out front is a windowsill with limited space.

This is when it comes time to embrace your craftiness and bring your garden indoors! Not only does it place your garden in a convenient location, it also allows you to freshen the air, recycle what would otherwise harm the earth, and embrace your witchy green thumb!

Get Your Head Out of the Gutter! Now Get Dirty!

Growing up, my family had always been about thinking creatively when it comes to home improvement. After all, my mom’s family used to flip houses, and my dad’s family encourages frugality. After a while, certain projects just happen to crop up where you least expect it.

So it should come as no surprise that eventually it came time to change the rain gutters. By the time Dad was finished, we still had a few extra feet of unused gutter, so Mom decided to put it to good use. I still wish I had taken pictures of her gutter garden! Regardless, it’s a simple project, and if you’re an engineering student, you can easily adapt this same project for PVC or other materials that are used for your university projects!

The concept is fairly easy. Cap off the ends of the gutters, drill drainage holes, lay down a layer of gravel to encourage drainage, add soil, and add plants. Voila! Your very own gutter garden! It’s also a cost effective project, as gutters aren’t overly expensive and can often be picked up or repurposed from other home improvement projects. But the nifty thing here is what these gardens can be used for.

In the home, they can be hung up on the walls for decoration, or they can be hung up in the kitchen to provide an easy-access herb garden. If hung closer to the ground, catnip can be planted for your feline’s drug-induced pleasure. The possibilities are near-endless!

Because rain gutters are designed to run along roof edges, they can be set up in ways where they curve or turn at an angle. Consider ways in which you can wrap the garden around corners or along walls to create a visually stimulating indoor garden!

How Can I Witch This?

As usual with container gardens, think of ways in which you can bring some magic to the container. Correspond your color with intent, or decorate with sigils, symbols, and crystals! In the gravel layer, add a crystal or two to promote growth, health, and prosperity. Select plants that correspond to your intentions, and place the planters strategically in the home.

Rain gutters are particularly useful for a bit of magic, too! How? Well, consider their purpose. The movement of water around the home to avoid stagnation, and the draining away of excess. Use your rain gutter garden to encourage energy movement in the home, draining away negative energy and encouraging a fresh flow of positive intention!

May Your Harvests Always Be Bountiful! )O(

i had a really cute dream that Uraraka somehow like…. got hurt, and was in the infirmary (which was, for some reason, huge), but the entire class was hanging around her and a few other students who were hurt (i can’t remember who else it was, but there were at least 3 others)

Bakugou was on her right side and he made her food, and absently brushed her hair while she talked with Mina. he was kinda acting like a grumpy caretaker. and then the class all ended up falling asleep in the infirmary and Bakugou ended up sleeping on the same bed with Uraraka. just kinda…. sprawled out next to her. he kinda looked like he might fall off the bed somehow, but didn’t

some of the other kids were like on the floor, or sleeping in other infirmary beds, or in weird positions, but they all refused to leave the room when their friends were all hurt, haha

and the funny thing is, in the dream, i thought it was from a new chapter or something and i was rushing to make a post about how cute certain panels were and was trying to crop one of them when i woke up

it was so cute, hahaha

Voltron Season 3 Thoughts

Okay, here’s my quick thoughts on Voltron Season 3:

- It felt like half a season, so I’m assuming it was and what we’re getting in October will be the rest of it, even if it’s called season 4. 

- I don’t think the whole “who flies what lion” issue is resolved and that it will come back to bite us in the ass in October. 

- I don’t trust Shiro and this makes me very uncomfortable. 

- The middle episodes were a little confusing? And choppy? 

- Allura’s bayard is awesome. 

- I’m sad we didn’t get to see more focus on the “new” team developing like we got in season 1. Poor Allura didn’t get the attention she deserved. 

- Sven and Slav, lol. 

-  “Look, I’m glad we’re all making fun of Lance.” Keith, my guy. Thank you. 

- Lance going to Keith about his insecurities. There were quite a few Keith and Lance moments actually, which I loved. But I can’t help but feel that even though Keith gave Lance a winning smile and tried to reassure him, this issue will crop up in October. Something is going to happen there and I get the feeling Lance is going to pay the price. And since Keith is becoming more dependent on Lance as his right hand, it will be… I’m not looking forward to this. 

- Lance and Allura moments in the beginning. 

- Alternate realities?! Holy fuck! So Slav’s entire character was foreshadowing?! Did not see that coming. 

- Um, I cried during the final episode with the paladin history, omg. That whole story was really heartbreaking. Especially with Haggar at the end being, like, husband? Wah? So how does Lotor fit into this? What are the family dynamics then? Very interesting. 

- Baby Zarkon was a huge fucking dork and I loved it. 

- Lotor is great and I love him. A+ boy, good boy, precious son. And his generals were just as badass as I expected. A++, great ladies, love it.  

- Lance being supportive but also hyper-critical of Keith at the same time. Their dynamic never ceases to amuse me. 

- No Matt–that must be from Season October. 

- Okay, seriously, you redesigned Shiro, but his hair is still so stupid? Like, c’mon now. 

- Lance being a leader and a serious character, and Hunk also being a serious character. They’ve both matured, but I’m sad we didn’t, like, see it? Like this whole season was a lot of “telling” instead of “showing,” and then “showing” without enough context. We didn’t get to see much development of anyone (except Keith and Lance’s relationship) so that’s kinda sad.

- Shiro chasing after Voltron was super sad and heartbreaking.  

- There’s something up with that cat and his lady.

- I love Baby Zarkon. Save him, poor awkward son. 

- Good all around. It wasn’t season 1, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. Solid.

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

The Tree That Outsmarted Me and Punched Me in the Face

Ok so this one isn’t so much wild as it is ‘Rekina what the heck do you think you’re doing sit down this instant’ kinda deal.

Our story begins back when I worked retail.

Alrighty so quick update. The part of Saskatchewan where I live is flat. I don’t mean mildly ho hum flat I mean flat ok like the nearest slight incline(besides the dump) is nearly a fifteen minute drive. ok flat as a ruler

And because of this intense flatness we get some equally intense wind. The last few days we’ve had winds upwards of 90km (55mph) and that’s a pretty normal seen it all before kind of wind storm. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then sometimes we get even worse winds called plough winds. Now, these are sometimes hurricane force winds ok windy as all get out

These winds make a straight path across the prairies, ripping roofs off, uprooting trees, and causing general havoc ok

there’s a reason they are called plough winds they plough over everything in sight like a bull in a china shop it has zero regard for your average home or retail employee like myself

Plough winds only show their ugly faces during the summer. and in summers I worked in the garden center. 

Now, normal people would stay indoors during winds like this. Common, sesnible people would hunker down and batten down the hatches and wait for the whole thing to blow over. Not me. Not only was I at work

I was outside

That’s right folks yours truly still had to go out and water the plants in winds fast enough to shut down most cities

So there I am in my oversized rain jacket that I was practically swimming in. This thing trailed along the ground it was so big on me. I have my garden hose on and am doing my thing

First of all, do you have any idea how hard it is to water plants when the water comes out of the hose and just kinda shoots off into the distance

It’s an acquired skill to say the least k I was standing like two feet to the side of the plant I actually wanted to water

Now if that wasn’t annoying enough i also have to deal with these jerks of trees

At the back of the center is our tree selection. I’d tied them down with the full stregnth of my scout knot tying knowledge and most of them stayed secure. But there was three little jerks on the very end that would tip over, making me go and pick them up again

This happened every ten seconds.

I would go, water a plant, and then drop everyhting to pick up these stupid trees

I did this for five hours straight

Then one time while I’m picking up a fallen ash, this little apple tree gets cheeky and topples down right on top of my head.

It didn’t hurt, but those leaves are like little whips in the wind my whole face was stinging by the time I got the jerk set up right again

This tree was about to become a very big problem

See when the other trees tipped over they would politely lay in place until i could reach them, still tethered loosely to the pole. But not this apple tree oh no

Little did i know i was dealing with Houdini Incarnated into a tree.

So I’m minding my buisness watering a plant from a distance and I happen to see Houdini take the fall. Except this time something was different. This time it not only fell, but it started to roll

It had somehow jumped the little enclosure and slipped the bonds

Im still pretty chill at this point. The whole center is surrounded by a fence where could it possibily go I’ll just go get it when it hits the fence right?

Wrong.

Because I was dealing with an escape artist ok what happens next had nothing to do with me

See off in one corner we had this pile of manure right near the fence. 

This tree my little Houdini was chugging towards it at full speed, those little leaves were like sails it was just a’cruisin down aisles of bricks. It’s fine tho it’ll hit the manue and–

It hit the manure alright

It rolled up the manure pile 

and over the fence

So now The Little Tree That Could was barreling around on the highway like a phsychotic leafy bat out of hell

My first thought is if that hits someone im so fired

I scream and drop the hose and begin my pursuit because I am not getting fired over an apple tree ok no sire im going down with my dignity

So i do the only logial thing in my head

Most people would run through the open get four feet behind them and calmly make their way to the highway. Not me

I sprinted across the compound, scrambled up the manue pile, and vaulted the fence

For one glorious moment I thought I could fly.

And then I plunged downwards with a very undignified squeal.

Still I splash down into the ditch and prepare to make my heroic capture

Problem: I had just landed chest deep in slough.

For those of you lucky souls who don’t know what a slough is let me explain

A slough is what happens when stagnat water, cow crap, cow piss, and crop fertilizer mix and heat up in the sun. Doesn’t smell good.

And I just landed chest deep in the stuff. Gross doesn’t even begin to cover it

But being the trooper I am i decide I’m going to end this day on a high note and salvage my dignity

I heave myself out of the slough and take off after the tree which is dancing around the thankfully empty highway

Just one issue: Plough Winds tend to change direction

So there I am chasing this freaking apple tree around in circles and it’s winning ok every time I get close to grabbing the trunk of branch the wind throws it in another direction leaving me stumbling like a drunk moose as I try to adjust course 

This goes on for a solid twenty minutes

I’m back and forth across this highway cursing enough to make a sailor blush

And then victory is in sight my fingers graze the trunk and–

the wind stops

The base of the tree is so heavy with water that It sits straight up and whacks me across the face harder than Dwayne Johnson ever could

My momentum throws me forward, my foot catches the pot

and I sail head first into the next slough

I am now covered in disgusting, thick, sticky water and that tree is just taunting me on the road

Eventually I manage to snag the little jerk and I start dragging it back towards the compound like oh yeah who the boss? i’m the boss i caught the tree 

Just as I see  two more trees making a break for it over the fence

It was a long end of shift to say the least

I had a black eye from that tree for a week and a lovely bleeding cut on my forehead. But i caught it and I am still proud of that to this day

7

Didn’t have time to crop but really wanted to show you these. Every time I read them I end up crying.


these were so beautiful. I remember reading these stories before but it’s been awhile. 

it’s important to read these, even if you already know each member well. the reminder is nice~

anonymous asked:

Can we get some 'foxes have a vine' action I think that would be hilarious

what do people even do on vine i don’t know i just threw every meme i could think of at this

  • wymack starts a vine account with the thought that six second videos of the foxes’ highlights sounds like a wonderful idea
  • but after spending a couple of hours just trying to get one winning shot online he thinks maybe he shouldn’t be the one to run it
  • he gives the login to dan with strict instructions, though he agrees they can upload things that aren’t just game footage
  • and she runs it sensibly for a few weeks
  • winning shots, good throws in practice, fans in the stadium doing the wave, the band playing their fight song, grinning Foxes shouting “GO FOXES!”
  • but as expected
  • it doesn’t last very long
  • after a tipsy night, dan gives the login information to the other foxes

Keep reading

Good Girl (Dom!Sherlock x reader)

A/N: SOMEONE reminded me of Sherlock using the riding crop week ago and I realized I had not thought of it enough, or even enjoyed it enough. So let’s dig into it, shall we? Also I might be writing about Molly a bit too harshly on this one, but I really like her character, so don’t think I’m trying to bully her.

Warnings: smut, so much smut, riding crop, bondage, it ended up with dom!sherlock I think that’s the riding crop’s fault, some swearing.


”Oh, you’re here with that again.” Molly Hooper gasped at the sight of the riding crop in Sherlock’s hand. She had not expected to see him with it ever again. Her fingers fiddled the files she held so dearly against her chest, nervously taking in uneven breaths, her eyes wide and a warm smile creeping it’s way on her thin pink lips. Those brown beaming eyes fixing on the man’s face in front of her, trying to get an answer to an unsaid question that was right at the tip of her tongue and since she got none, deciding to make herself heard she squeaked out, ”Another experiment?”

Sherlock’s expressionless face was still blank, his pale skin almost shining under the bright white lights that shone from the lamps above them in the hallway down stairs in St. Bartholomew’s hospital at the morgue section. He faked a smile, trying his best to seem sincere, but the curve on his lips disappearing as fast as it appeared after he answered to Molly’s presumption by, ”Yes, obviously.” He then gazed over Molly’s shoulder to the door she had just exited, her spot where she examined the bodies brought in for crime consulting. ”Is your room free for use?” The smile reappearing on his face, eyes shining as he sweetly pointed towards the door.

Molly too gazed over her shoulder, dumbfounded by Sherlock’s straight forward demeanor, her pony tail swishing while following her head’s movement back and forth. She sharply turned back to Sherlock and looked disappointingly doubtful. In these occasions Sherlock would need to give Molly numerous compliments to get her bend to his will, usually two or three would do it, and he still had some laying about in the deeps of his mind. He didn’t usually settle for being told no, but even as easy as Molly was he hated to go through the trouble. Then again he didn’t need to feel bad. He was in a relationship, she knew it too. He could point out a nice thing or two about her appearance without feeling guilt.

”Well, I actually just cleared the hall and was about to get home…” Molly muttered biting down on her lower lip. She was still staring right back as Sherlock with her big eyes, much like a puppy. As Sherlock stared back at her she tried to find something, anything, to fix her eyes on so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable by the silence that took over the hallway the both had blocked. Her fingers drummed the surface of the file on her arms and before Sherlock got to test his new compliment on Molly she sighed, ”I could stay for an hour longer.”

Sherlock genuinely smiled, thanked Molly and followed after her as she turned on her heels and headed back to her spot, keeping the door open for Sherlock as he followed close behind. He was a step away from Molly, but he was careful enough not to step on her heels, keeping the distance long enough to avoid doing so. He instructed Molly what he needed, a body, in what position and age, which actually at this point were all unnecessary to him, but to keep with his habits he went by it anyway. He picked an older woman, not over fifty years old, chubby, about a day old corpse.

When you entered the hospital after receiving a message from Sherlock, where he suggested you to meet him at the morgue before going to Baker Street, you took the elevator to the down floors. He rather would company you on your way to his flat than have you wait him there for fifteen to sixty minutes when you could wait for him hear, right next to him.

You knew he was there for an experiment, but you hadn’t been informed which kind, but it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t much go with explaining everything and every part of his work to you, only when he saw fit. You exited the elevator, turned down the hall, through a door and saw Molly Hooper standing close to a window. She was flinching at the sight ahead of her that you were unable to witness. This made your imagination run wild. If Sherlock was cutting a corpse to pieces, scaring Molly you would let him hear from it for sure.

You and Molly were rather good friends, though you didn’t see each other that often. You had known her longer than Sherlock and back then, when you finally met the man Molly had been daydreaming about, constantly talking about him, you felt really bad for finding him charming, sexy and interesting. You wanted to know him better, you could point out just how unique person he was by first standing and that intrigued you. Sherlock, back then, didn’t much try to approach you and actually acted very cold toward you, but as time passed he did become interested in you. The truth was that he had found you just as interesting as you had found him, but, incapable of handling feelings and emotions he tried to push you away. But when Sherlock did tell you how he felt you fought back, for Molly. You didn’t want to be that friend that steals boyfriend or a crush, though Sherlock and Molly had never dated. Time went by and Molly realized how much Sherlock cared for you, she insisted you to let him take you out and you did. Now you had been dating for almost a year with the detective and it didn’t bother Molly, she still did fancy Sherlock, yes, but would never do anything, or try anything because she knew you and him were together.

You approached Molly with long strides, your hands sway on either side of you, your shoes hitting the floor and the sound echoing loudly, but it wasn’t enough to bring Molly back from her trance. Only until you were right beside her, already talking, she jumped realizing you were there. She was holding a file in her arms, her white long jacket almost burying her form under, her hands barely showing as she held the file high, the top touching her chin. You took a stand next to her after you had greeted her and asked her, ”What’s he doing?” Molly simply nodded towards the window.

You turned to look through the glass and what you saw almost stopped your heart, the breath you took getting stuck in your throat. The reflection of your boyfriend on the other side moved fast, mirroring his movements as he kept whipping the pale lifeless body, hair falling on his face, sweat drops lining on his forehead. He was so concentrated on what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed you, much like Molly just now. You and she stood there in silence for a minute, admiring Sherlock in his tight purple dress shirt, black jacket and trousers that hugged his body perfectly, not too tight to bother his doings.

Your eyes were captivated by the show. You pressed your thighs together, trying to evade the wetness that increased between your legs from growing, your cheeks turning pink. You could hear your own breathing, deep and long breaths. You felt ashamed that you were standing by your good friend when your boyfriend was right there, making you feel like this. The whip was drawn back then coming down in a fast swish, the end of the crop must likely echoing in the other room. Sherlock’s hair pulled back when he straightened his back, readying for another spank, then falling over his eyes when his head lowered. It took all of your efforts to move your gaze away from Sherlock and to finally concentrate on Molly, to try and be polite like a normal human being should.

”How have you been, Molly?” You asked and even if you had tried to sound as friendly and natural it didn’t show. You ended up reminding of your shy demeanor where you had only just met the woman in front of you and this was the first time talking to her which was not true. She was your closest friend. You had seen Molly repeatedly just last month. Of course these days always Sherlock being precent. ”I haven’t seen you in a while.” You gave her a warm smile to which she answered with one of her own. You started a conversation that was irrelevant to Sherlock’s on going spanking in the next room, and you kept up with it for about ten minutes. You were talking about work and Molly’s life. She had met someone who she considered worthy of her time and you cheered her to go for it, just like she had done with you on Sherlock. After those ten minutes she looked at her phone screen to see the clock and gasped. She had two missed calls and she was late from seeing this mysterious man of hers.

You put your hands comfortingly on her shoulders, promised her you and Sherlock would finish things in here while she went to change so she could clean up after Sherlock and get to her man. Molly thanked you and rushed to change, typing on her phone and then as she went to enter through a door she lifted her phone over her ear to call. You turned back to Sherlock who still kept spanking and couldn’t but freeze for another minute. He lifted his gaze, took couple of uncontrolled steps and flinched, or so it looked like, as he saw you there instead of Molly. He smirked and nodded his head, out of breath he was, to which you answered by a wave of your hand and mouthing ’Hi’ to him. He beckoned you to company him on the other side of the glass and you did as you were asked.

”Hello, Sherlock.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. The soft click heard by you both, your hand lingering on the handle while you stood near the entrance. Sherlock smirked at you and your weariness, a chuckle leaving his lips, his hands gripping the riding crop, eyes fixed on it, but not concentrated by the object. He spun on his heels, his eyes were gleaming by now, at the sight of you, and he was greatly humored  by something. He tilted his head and asked, ”Did you enjoy the show?”

”Molly needs to leave soon so better finish up what you’re doing.” You informed in an ordering tone trying to change the subject, but still held a playful smile on your lips. You walked right beside Sherlock, the room was probably a degree or two warmer than on the other side. Your steps were short, but fast enough as you approached him, not letting him grow impatient while he already waited to embrace you. He held his left hand stretched inviting you for a side hug and as you reached his arm he pulled you to his side, kissing your right temple. The riding crop was still in his right hand, his fingers gripping on it, holding it on his side and the tip of it brushing close the floor.

”I’m almost ready.” He said and his left hand’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, then a smirk spread on his lips. ”So you did enjoy the show?” That bastard just checked your pulse, you realized. ”Someone’s exited.” He stated and you looked up at his bright shining eyes and a smile he tried to keep away from spreading on his lips. His hair looked more black than dark brown in the dim light in the room you were in and it shadowed his whole face, strands of hair hanging loosely over his face. You wanted to hit him, but Sherlock pulled you closer, your hands pressed on either side of your body making it impossible for you to inform him of your opinion. You settle for a frown which wasn’t as effective as a fist to his shoulder would’ve been.

He laughed at your expression, you reminded him of an unhappy child and he rubbed your left arm with his that was still wrapped around you. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin, lips brushing your ear, ”There. Finished.” It came out in a choked chuckled he had tried to hide, but failed. You suspected he really even cared you had caught him finding the situation humorous, then again you didn’t even know what the situation was in the first place, so you gave him a suspicious grin, your body leaning inches away from him to your left to get a better look at him.

”You didn’t even do anything.” You pin pointed, eyebrows low and eyes slightly narrowed but not scowling, amusement clear on your features but still doubtful. You could see Sherlock smile wickedly at your statement, his head turning towards the window to see had Molly already come back but fortunately was met with a sight of an empty hallway. He laughed and pulled you close again, whispering to your ear, ”Tell me, how long had you been watching?” You answered with, ”Ten minutes or so.” Of course you weren’t hundred percent sure. Sherlock nodded in agreement and looked away again. He had had hard time looking straight back at you for some reason and you kept trying to catch his attention, but failed.

”Guess that’s enough.” Sherlock admitted to himself. He pulled away from the hug and started to get ready to leave, he took his jacket near the doorway, from a hanger as well as his scarf. He didn’t give you any answers from there on. You met Molly before exiting the hospital then headed to hail for a cab. Sherlock opened the door for you, he was smiling constantly and in very good mood. He sat right beside you in the cab, closer than usually and what he did through the whole ride gave away what he was up to. His hand was on your thigh, caressing and massaging the surface of your pants, inching higher and higher. You couldn’t stop smiling. So this was one of those days then. His eagerness surprised you, that you had to admit.

When you finally got to Baker Street, Sherlock paid the ride, rushing to open the door to his flat for you and when you went inside, he shut the door with a loud bang. You were taking your coat off when Sherlock took a stand right behind you, his front pressed firmly against your back. His breath lingered on your shoulders and you could hear him panting. He was so deliciously needy for you by now that you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

”Leave your coat and shoes, get upstairs to my bedroom and start stripping.” He growled in your ear. You knew he would get impatient in a second, but you wanted this. He had made you go through his show, now he had to go through yours. The coat you were wearing had now fallen off your shoulders, hanging on your elbows when you gazed at Sherlock over your shoulder, peeking at him sexily, biting your lower lip and asked, ”Do you want me completely naked or in my underwear?” You teased, pulling your hair back so he could see you better. He sucked air in his lungs, his eyes narrowing when he hissed, ”Everything on the floor. And don’t make me wait for another second, or I will have to punish you.” You tried to keep the chuckle in. Oh you would enjoy this.

”Are we in a hurry?” You purred, now fully facing him, on your tip toes. Your hands found their way on his shoulders, your lips touching his chin as you went to whisper, ”Are you too eager you can’t wait any longer?” That was when Sherlock snapped. He growled, lifting the riding crop to his mouth and bit on it, lowered his shoulders, his coat falling on the floor, he ripped his scarf off around his neck, that too on the floor in a blink and then he hooked his hands behind your thighs, pulling you to him, lifting you up. Your chest was pressed against his, your hands now behind his back, legs around his hips as he started to carry you upstairs. You giggled at his sudden dominance.

Sherlock carried you straight to his room, kicking the ajar door open with his foot and threw you on the bed, closing the door just as loudly as the front door. He gave you a wild, lustful look, taking the crop from his mouth and ordered you, ”Clothes off. Now.” And you did as he asked. You took your time though, giving him a show you slid your pants down with slow motion, your shirt pulled over your head, your hips swinging while you stripped. You could see the bulge in Sherlock’s pants. You bit your lip again, now taking the top that had been under your long sleeved shirt, lifting it to shield your eyes and while you were at it, Sherlock approached you fast, pulling the cloth off you and throwing it somewhere in his room. You unclasped your bra, taking it off while Sherlock went down on you. You heard him moan as he took a whiff. ”So wet for me already.” He moaned, taking your knickers, ”Just as I suspected.” then pushing you back down on his bed.

His room was dark, the only light came from through the thin and light curtains, but it wasn’t much. Then again you didn’t really care was it day light or moon light in which you fucked, just that you could see his face. You crawled back on the bed, Sherlock taking a step closer, he hungrily studied your now naked body. You lifted your head and dared to ask, ”Aren’t you going to take yours off?” That made Sherlock smile. It was one of those dominant smiles that gave you the answer. This was going to take time. You were in for a good and long play, wether you liked it or not, and Sherlock would make sure you would suffer. This wasn’t going to be one of those fair fights, but a foreplay with Sherlock was never fair. He would make sure to torture you with a long teasing. ”I don’t need to take mine off.” He chuckled. That cocky bastard.

”Shame, I would love to help.” You smirked. You made a risky move, lifting your leg up in the air, your toes touching the bulge in his pants and rubbing the fabric that shielded his cock. You looked at Sherlock daringly, about to inch closer to unbuckle his belt when he shoved your leg away with a grunt. He took a hold of your ankles, pulled at them so you were laying on your back, towering over you and whispered with a low, threatening tone, ”One more move and I will tie you to the bed, darling.” This sent a shiver down your spine, your folds pulsing. You gave out a shaky breath, not able to contain yourself. You didn’t know was that what you wanted, for Sherlock to tie you down or to just go with what he had planned already? He was already warning you and you knew he could be very ruthless towards you in bed, but you also knew when you were challenged you couldn’t back up.

You kneed his groin fast but softly enough to not hurt him. His back arched and he moaned out loud in your ear. You moved your leg, your knee rubbing his bulge. You couldn’t continue it longer than five seconds before Sherlock pulled away from you. You sat up, half disappointed how long he lasted but half amused by his angered expression. He took fast long steps, took a pair of hang cuffs from his locker and turned to you. You playfully whined and pouted. ”Aw, come now Sherlock. I was just returning the favor.” You pulled your hands behind your back as if that would stop him from cuffing you to the bed and like you had suspected, it didn’t.

”On your stomach, woman.” He ordered coldly. You knit your brows together. You knew you were in for trouble as he addressed you by ’woman’ and you felt hesitant on turning your back to him. This resulted Sherlock rolling his eyes at you, he walked over to you, took you by the shoulders and turned you over. His hands were awfully forceful and powerful and you couldn’t fight him nor did you want to. You were in a state where every move he made, every touch he gave you made you tingle. His fingers wrapped around your left wrist, cuffed it and pulled it around one of the headboards iron bars. Then he took a hold of your right wrist, securing it with the other and got up from the bed. You looked at Sherlock over your shoulder, he admired your exposed body and you could tell that you disobeying, ending you cuffed to the bed had only turned him on even more.

He took the riding crop from the floor where he had dropped it when he had helped you strip, eyeing the object dangerously interested in it. He let his fingers caress the crop, taking his time admiring the item. Your breathing started to quicken. You had never done this before and were honestly nervous by now. You knew you could deal with pain, but you had never experienced it while sex, not like this. You had to admit that you had found it hot when he had whipped the dead body back in the hospital, secretly wanted him to use it on you, but now that you were there, laying naked on your stomach ready for a beating you couldn’t help but worry.

”This is going to serve as your punishment, for starters.” Sherlock informed, his eyes now back on you. ”But only for starters as I am aware this will also turn you on even more, so do not think I am being nice to you.” He warned with a low voice. He then lifted the crop and swished it through the air, the tip hitting you hard on your left butt cheek. You chocked out a sound that was a mix of yelp, gasp and shriek. The touch of the crop was so sudden and the pain so fast like a big elastic band hitting your rear you couldn’t make out sound louder than the snap itself that echoed from the spank.

”Now, count out with me.” Sherlock instructed coldly and showed no remorse which only exited you more. ”When you are unable to feel the blows only then I will stop. That was one.” He waited, but you said nothing. He huffed in irritation, then hit you again with the crop, hearing you gasp. ”One!” He yelled and you repeated his words shortly. ”Good girl.” Sherlock cooed, pleased at your cooperation and you felt the words sink in. You were getting wet by his hits, but him dressing you like that, so dominantly made you lose your mind.

You had reached to five when Sherlock stopped. He let his hand caress your red, sensitive behind with his tender fingers. You had never imagined that the sensation that came from being hit repeatedly and then caressed could feel this good, it really felt like a reward more than a punishment. Your body shook under his touch, anticipating to get a real reward from your dominant boyfriend, but your movements back fired. Sherlock mused, ”I see you can still feel my touch.” You whined when he withdrew his hand from you and gripped the crop. He held it high, over his head and calmly said, ”Keep counting with me, love.” And he brought it down hard. Thankfully it took him only six more spanks to find you silent, not responding and he stopped. He sat beside you and started caressing your behind.

You were out of breath, your ass tingling and cheeks wet from tears. You had to admit you had liked the spanking, the crop would definitely need to stay around, but you intended that next time it would be drawn on his skin, not yours. You relaxed as much as you could on the bed, the soft blankets underneath you caressing your skin nicely, warm from your body heath. You nuzzled your head to the pillows, moaned while Sherlock treated your stinging arse.

”Spread your legs for me.” Sherlock ordered after a while of silence and this time, without any nasty remarks or witty comebacks you did as he said. You couldn’t see, but you heard from his voice that he was smirking. ”Someone has learned their lesson.” This sent a spark through you and you instantly wanted to show him just how submissive you had become, it was in your nature to keep fighting and resisting. ”Good girl.” Sherlock purred and that made all the thoughts of resistance fade. You were a slave to that word. Oh how much you loved hearing him say it.

Sherlock got closer to the between of your legs, he took the riding crop out again, holding it loosely in his hand. You reacted to his movements and went to close your legs, but Sherlock stopped you. He took a hold of your calves and kept them in place with an iron like grip. ”Don’t close them.” He warned. You forced your legs to relax and let him do what he was about to. You jumped on the bed when he brought the tip of the crop up your wet slit, gathering some of your juices to it to examine how wet you were. You heard him groan, pleased by your wetness. He then threw the crop away, it ended up on the floor far away from the bed. You smiled, thinking finally you could get you release.

Sherlock reached over your body, his breath tickling your neck and he placed his lips on your bare skin, kissing you softly. He went down your spine, his hands on both side of your waist. He lingered at your lower back, his breath warm against you, kissing and licking your skin, worshipping you. You were breathing loudly, ready for him to take, to give you your release, but Sherlock was far from that. He went back up, his lips guiding him, back to your shoulders and to your neck. His curly hair ghosted on your cheek, his hands cupping your breasts. Oh how you had needed that. He massaged your nipples with his fingers, making sure to keep you moaning.

”Please.” You moaned in between deep breaths. ”Please, Sherlock.” You gasped. Sherlock grinned. You were already begging, how sad. ”Sherlock, I can’t take this anymore, I need you.” Your voice grew louder and louder, but Sherlock kept his pace steady, horribly slow. You didn’t want him to treat you this way, not now when he had started so dominantly, turning to your gentle lover that took his time to give all your body parts equally the same amount of love. His voice surprised you. It was nothing like what his actions gave out. He almost growled in your ear, ”You think you have learned your lesson?” He asked. You were baffled. What lesson? If he didn’t mean you disobeying his orders then you had no idea what he was talking about. ”When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. No questions asked.” Good, so you were on the same page. You nodded your head, then moaned, ”I’ll be good. I’m a good girl. I’ll do what ever you say.” An evil grin spread on Sherlock’s lips. ”That is what I am counting on.” He gave you a last kiss, then pulled away. You heard him get off the bed, starting to strip. You were about to turn on your back when Sherlock snapped, ”I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t make me punish you again, love.”

You waited as he agonizingly slowly undressed himself, he could see you twitch on the bed, your eyes taking in every new naked part of him as he pulled the clothes off. ”How does it feel?” He asked. ”To have to wait for me?” You frowned. So this was payback time? ”It’s killing me.” You whispered truthfully. Sherlock hummed in agreement. ”Good.” He stated, now finally fully naked, his wonderful cock rock hard, pointing towards you. He walked closer, you moved on the bed but not changing your position. ”Now on your fours.” He said.

”Aren’t you going to uncut me?” You asked truly surprised. You longed to touch him. You longed to turn over and kiss him, bury your finger in his hair and pull him close. You heard Sherlock chuckle. ”You didn’t really think I was done with your punishment, did you?” Your eyes flew open. He knew how much you hated to be bound to the bed when he did give you your release. So this was it. This was one of his punishments. And you had thought it had been the riding crop. Stupid you.

”I did mention knowing you would get aroused by the riding crop before. This is your real punishment. You have been a very bad girl and I think your release will be rewarding enough. No need to untie you, maybe now my naughty girl will learn.” He purred and you cursed, but just inside of your head. You knew now that you had crossed a line. Why did you have to tease him so?

”Please, Sherlock, I promise I’ll be good from now on! Just please, untie me!” You pleaded as Sherlock positioned himself behind you. He put his hands on your ass that was now in the air, your legs slightly spread. ”No. You need to become more obedient and if I am to back away from my methods you will never learn. Now, embrace your reward, love. Next time I even might let you lay on your back.” And he thrusted in. You moaned louder than expected, your hands pulling the cuffs. You were sure you would have awful bruises on your wrists by the morning.

Sherlock pulled out slowly, then thrusted back in, his nails digging deep into your flesh as he pounded into you in a way that made you scream from pleasure. He was rough with you, his right hand finding it’s way in your hair and grasping it, pulling your head back as he thrusted. It didn’t take you long to come, and Sherlock came right after you, pulling out and spreading his cum over your holes and running down your thighs. You tried to even your breathing, your head hit the pillows, Sherlock retreating from you and laying next to you, opening the cuffs for you so you could lay down next to him.

Sherlock pulled you to his embrace, hugged you and kissed you. You snuggled close to him, both of you sweaty and still out of breath. Sherlock was first to talk, ”I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.” He whispered. You shook your head. ”No, just the right amount.” You admitted. ”I really didn’t intend to be so ruthless.” Sherlock told you, but he didn’t sound so sincere as he had intended. ”It’s alright, as long as you let me use the crop next time.” You chuckled, your eyes starting to close. Sherlock laughed at that and said, ”Didn’t I tell you that next time, it will be you, once again cuffed to the bed on your back?”

”You were serious?” You asked, your eyes opening. Your boyfriend laughed at your puzzled expression. ”Of course I was serious. Your punishment is far from over.” He explained and kissed the top of your head. ”You fucking sociopath.” You sighed.

Witchy Bullet Journaling

So, one of those things that is helpful and sort of become a fad at the same time is bullet journaling. I really can’t complain about it becoming a fad, because that’s how I heard about it. However…my first attempts did not go well. I knew I had to get back to it because it actually helped me remember to take my medication on time and with diabetes that’s kind of important. 

Like with everything though, the witchy has crept in, almost insidiously and has actually helped me keep up with it. So, I thought I’d share some of my ideas and such that I use. I have a hard time documenting my practise because a lot of it is either too everyday or random people cropping up, that bullet journaling has really helped. So…

1.  Moon Phases - This can be as basic or as complicated as you like, or how often you track it. I simply put the phase in brackets on the other side of the date in parentheses like this [FM] for Full Moon or [WXC] For Waxing Crescent

2. Daily/Weekly Divination Pulls - A good way to track daily or weekly divination pulls is to list them in a bullet journal, that way, at the end of the week, month, or whatever, you can look back and see trends. You could also use this as a way to see trends in what you pull and what’s going on in your life at that time. 

3. Sigils - Now, sigils are not a big part of my practice because of my perfectionism, but this is a useful way to imbue a day with a sigil for a particular thing without having to sew it on something or mark it on your skin, especially if you plan on carrying your bullet journal with you. 

4. Quiet Time Reminders- If you are of a faith, but have a hard time remembering to pray or give offerings, a bullet journal is an easy way to remind yourself, and people who don’t worship can use this as a reminder of meditation, quiet time, or reading. As a polytheist, I find this particularly helpful in tracking to make sure I’m not losing track and accidentally snubbing anyone. 

5. Spell Musings - Sometimes you just have a bit of a rhyme pop in your head, or an idea for a new working, or you do something on the fly you want to remember. Using a bullet journal means you can scribble down half-formed ideas or spontaneous castings, without having to commit them to memory in case you forget them before you have access to a spellbook, or if you’re like me and your spellcraft is more..scientific-method-y, note thins that just don’t pass muster for Big Book Status. 

6. Dream Tracking - Sometimes you have a dream and your not the kind of person who regular journals these things, but this one seems important. You can put this there.

7. Deja Vu Moments: We’ve all had those moments of deja vu, and having someplace to write down these little moments can help, even if it’s just that feeling of ‘Wait, I’ve seen this before.’

There are loads of other ways bullet journaling can incorporate witchy things, this is just me sharing some I’ve come up with! If you have any more, feel free to add!

Everything

A Bucky x Reader / fluff one shot

A/N: So this is the first thing I’ve written in… about a month? So please be gentle! I appreciate your feedback and your patience with me, while I get back in the writing groove. ♥

Word Count: 1,066

Warnings:
- none.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine

“Bucky,” you whispered into the dark, your fingernails gripping at the sheets, getting caught in the fabric. Only the moon peeking through the equally as black curtains shed any light into the room, casting looming shadows on the walls. “I’m scared…”

Keep reading

2

That thing I think about a lot but never mention.

you know, I’m always saying how you shouldn’t move in together too young or too soon, but I actually think that Isak and Even moving in together fits Isak’s narrative quite beautifully? and like, I know i’m trash who could easily come up with at least ten reasons to justify them dropping out of high school to become organic farmers if need be (look at them and tell me their love wouldn’t water the crops), but after the way season 3 ended, this just feels so right? 

who knows if it will feel right tomorrow or next month, but that doesn’t matter because life is now. to me this doesn’t feel rushed, it doesn’t feel like a rash decision. quite the opposite, really. it feels in line with Isak’s realisation of life being now. sure they could wait and see a year or two until they’re older and no longer in the honeymoon phase, but during that time we might all get killed in some cosmic explosion and then the chance to experience how it feels like to wake up next to each other every morning rain or shine will be forever lost.

moving in together with your significant other is a major step. it’s not the same as shared housing. i’ve done both, more than once, and they’re not the same thing. it’s dirty dishes in the sink. it’s compromise. it’s disillusionment. it’s amazing and wonderful and exciting and comfortable, but sometimes it’s also boring and mundane and annoying. and even though it’s not something I would normally recommend a teenager do after just a few months of dating, I’m honestly so happy and so thrilled that Isak made that choice, because to me it’s a sign that his little speech about life being now was not just pretty words. he’s practicing what he preached, and it looks real good on him. he was positively glowing sitting on Even’s lap, so present in the moment, so present with his friends, caressed by the first sunrays of spring about to bloom, and seeing him that way, it just felt so right. life is now. if it feels right, let it.