#this an embarrassing professional misconduct

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

OMG Sangvis! Ok ok!

The four Sangvis dolls getting protective over their S/O

(GFL) Scarecrow, Architect, Gager, and Hunter being protective of their S/O

Scarecrow's eyes do not move, but her arms sure do.

She gently grabs S/O's arms and drags them closer to her, as her floating guns suddenly dash over to their side, aiming at whoever they're speaking to.

(Scarecrow) "What business do you have with S/O? They are on important business."

If it's a Griffin T-Doll they're speaking to, she just quietly walks over to their side, not saying anything, nor does she make any indication that she's getting protective.

Only that she's a lot closer to them normal.

(Scarecrow) "Am I not allowed to be close to you, S/O?"

(S/O) "N-No, that's not it but-"

(Scarecrow) "I detect a rise in heat on your cheeks. You are clearly embarrassed from me doing so."

S/O swears that her irises seem to shrink the slightest amount...Was she getting angry?!

Architect starts pouting as she latches onto S/O's arms very openly.

She doesn't possess any kind of animosity towards humanity or Griffin's T-Dolls.

BUT that does not mean she'll let just anyone speak to her S/O!

(Architect) "HEY! You're not flirting with them are you?! I'LL BLOW YOU UP, DON'T TEST ME!"

(S/O) "A-Architect!"

She pulls out a rocket launcher that quickly unfolds itself to the massive cannon, aiming at whoever it is.

Of course she won't actually fire. It's mostly to impress S/O in that she's ready to fight for them.

But depending on how angry she it is, she might actually use it.

And before she can, she is bonked over the head by the Commander for misconduct.

Gager tries to be as professional as she can, but her superiority complex over the Griffin T-Dolls still remains.

She'll cross her arms and glare at S/O until the other party backs off, or S/O notices.

Gager honestly has no idea what's getting into her, and it makes her sigh.

(Gager) "Sorry, I shouldn't be feeling this way...Actually, I shouldn't be feeling anything like this at all."

(S/O) "It's...kinda cute, honestly!"

Her eyes squint at S/O, and she starts unintentionally pouting.

(Gager) "Jealousy is not cute."

(S/O) "You're making it so!"

Hunter boldly walks over to S/O and stands close to them, not really giving a damn about the other person's reaction to her presence.

As long as they know S/O is hers, then the message should get across.

(Hunter) "Getting a bit handsy aren't you? Interesting behavior from prey."

(S/O) "P-Prey?! Hey, calm down, Hunter!"

Hunter has one arm snake around her S/O's waist, glaring at the other T-Doll speaking to them.

Doubly so if it's another Sangvis Doll.

(Hunter) "Hands off."

[psychic-refugee]

Lets talk about contracts.

The antis are delusional and don’t know what they’re talking about. They use the generic term of “contract” and not the specifics such as an NDA or a morality clause. To me that says they’ve never heard of such things, otherwise they would have invoked the proper names of these things in order to give themselves credibility.

They’re just kids who have no experience with anything, only that there are such things as “contracts” that can compel them to do some things. That is the extent of their knowledge.

There are such things as “morality clauses” in employment contracts, but given that neither Jenna nor PHW started acting yesterday and there’s no way I believe they’d do their own legal work, I would bet money that those clauses are:

1) narrow and with specificity. Meaning what each side considers “moral” is defined to high hell and limits what the company can actually ding their talent for.

e.g. Sexual Misconduct. A contract isn’t just going to say “We can terminate employment due to Sexual Misconduct” and leave it at that. They’ll define what it means, and they’ll give specific scenarios where it applies.

2) Proof requirement. This is where Netflix would have the hardest time firing Percy if they actually wanted to. There is no proof of him doing anything criminal and no way would a reasonable person, much less a seasoned acting professional nor their lawyers, allow themselves to be able to be fired on rumors alone.

The only people dumb enough to sign a contract where they’d get fired at the drop of a hat are these antis idiots, who apparently think it’s common practice to sign their life away and make themselves be at the complete mercy of a corporation.

These idiots can spam and cry on SocMed all they want, these companies are used to it and can easily ignore it. PHW is not the first person to be accused of such things or have a cancel campaign against them. It’s almost white noise at this point. There’s no reason to do something as drastic as firing their talent UNLESS there is substantial proof, such as a police report AND pending criminal proceeding. Even then, I’d go as far to say that they’d ignore it if their bottom line wasn’t actually effected. Trust me, these companies do not give a shit UNLESS their money is actually threatened.

There were idiots on Twitter before this fiasco, there will be idiots after this fiasco. The status quo has been maintained and there are no actual consequences other than embarrassment and probable mental harm on Percy alone, which I doubt Netflix actually cares about. Netflix isn’t going to waste money on a Twitter rumor.

As for Jenna’s SocMed, this is her PERSONAL platform. It’s not Jenna Netflix, it’s just Jenna Ortega. No employer can go as far as to actually dictate what she posts and who she follows on her personal platform.

Even with an NDA, they’re normally restricted to things regarding your employment. Keeping silent on gossip or potentially embarrassing scandals is just part of felicity with your coworkers. It’s common sense AND probably under the advisement of PR and legal teams. If you become known as a narc on SocMed of on set shenanigans, no one is going to want to work with you.

She may have obligations to post/promote something, say X number of “Go see Wednesday!” or something, but she’d be paid for that and again, part of employment.

WORK =/= PERSONAL LIFE. Percy is her friend in her PERSONAL LIFE.

These idiots need to understand that employees have rights to negotiate, and even with contracts they still have rights. Contracts don’t make them slaves.

The antis need a kick in the pants and a reality check.

[dennlawgroup]

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Lawyers Representing Clients Against Lawyers

As lawyers, we should be held to the highest standards of professionalism and ethical conduct. As a result, our professional liability lawyers also represent clients who have been harmed by attorneys who have committed malpractice or engaged in unethical clients. We represent clients in filing disciplinary complaints as well as pursuing claims for damages. We know what defences to anticipate, how to prove your claim, and how to work towards a resolution that makes you whole. 

To pursue a claim, you will need to prove your case. Unfortunately, malpractice and ethical misconduct aren’t always easy to detect. Our professional liability lawyers are seasoned investigators. We can evaluate your claim and determine what evidence we will need to prove your case. We methodically investigate your claim to build the strongest possible case. Our focus is to help recover from any harm you suffered while holding the attorney accountable. 

To pursue a claim, you will need to prove your case. Unfortunately, malpractice and ethical misconduct aren’t always easy to detect. Our professional liability lawyers are seasoned investigators. We can evaluate your claim and determine what evidence we will need to prove your case. We methodically investigate your claim to build the strongest possible case. Our focus is to help recover from any harm you suffered while holding the attorney accountable. 

To be clear, an unexpected or unfavourable outcome is not proof of malpractice or unethical conduct. However, if you suspect your attorney has caused you harm, either intentionally or negligently, you should consult with an experienced professional liability lawyer at Denn Law Group. For more details about Denn Law Group Visit: https://dennlawgroup.com/ or call: 978-252-4567

[drwcn]

《Without Envy》- concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

[story board 1]  [story board 2]  [story board 3]  [story board 4]  [story board 5]  [story board 6]  snippets (non-chrono): [1] [2] [3]

story board #7 → 

When asked, Wei Wuxian will tell you that what he’s feeling towards Lan Wangji is blood thirst, but when asked, Xue Yang will say that at a certain point, it’s just thirst. WWX: 😑 I am not attracted to Lan Wangji.  XY: 🤔 Like... a starving man isn’t attracted to grilled chicken? 

Growing up in Nevernight as Wen Ruohan’s favourite ward, Wei Wuxian was used to witnessing luxury, especially luxuries of a prince, but Lan Wangji - for all that Hanguang-fu was grand, spacious and tastefully decorated - lived practically like a monk. 

Fact #1: Lan Wangji did not indulge in food or drink. 

“Dianxia, if I may be so bold to ask, why is your meals so simple?” 

“It’s not simple. It is average. Farmers and tradesfolk would praise the gods if they could have what I have every day.”

“But you are a prince of Gusu, possibly even the crown prince -” 

“Huangxiong has not formally titled me, you must not -” 

“- discuss matter of successions; it is not my place. But dianxia -” 

“I am a prince. Some may say the country is at my feet to serve me, but I do not see it so. I am responsible for the nation, and am its servant. It does not make sense for the servant to live in luxury while the people he serves go without.” 

Fact #2: Lan Wangji did not indulge pleasures of a carnal nature.

含光王薄情 - Hanguang-wang was lacking in sentiment. That was Wei Wuxian’s first impression of the man. If he had his way, Wei Wuxian would not have wanted Jiang Yanli to marry him. His zhangjie was the best and gentlest of ladies. For her to spent her endless tolerance and love on an ice block of a man who already had four concubines, in Wei Wuxian’s opinion, was a goddamn waste.

But slowly, he began to realize that while Lan Wangji was taciturn and private, he was not unkind. It fooled exactly no one that he did not love any of his concubines, but no matter how busy he became with matters of court, he nevertheless took time to visit with them - even if it was just to share a meal or drink it or sit and listen as they spoke about their children - and look after their living.

In the early morning, before Lan Wangji set off for court assembly, he would send word to one of his spouses that he would be joining them for lunch, or if he was held up by work, dinner. The next day, he would do the same for another spouse. The day after that, another. Sun or rain, winter or summer, this never changed...which was more than anyone could say for other wealthy and noble gentlemen whose visits to their concubines dwindled once the newness passed and the initial excitement lost its flavour. For example, due to his unfair treatment of his wife over his concubine Wang Lingjiao, Wen Chao had been reprimanded by Wen Ruohan on multiple occasions, but that didn’t make the second prince of Qishan a better husband.

When Jiang Yanli married in, it was rumoured that Mo Xuanyu was Lan Wangji’s favourite, because he alone saw most of the prince’s night time activities. It was well known that Lan Wangji preferred men, but even compared to Jin Ziyan, who was objectively handsome and unquestionably desirable, Mo Xuanyu was more frequently called upon by Lan Wangji. An older servant of the household said that before Luo-furen and Qin-furen had da-gongzi and er-gongzi, sometimes wangye would stay the night at one of theirs, but since the boys were born, he stopped.

Wei Wuxian had initially thought Lan Wangji the same as other men, casting aside those he’d used and conquered, but  over time he realized the rumours were well...inaccurate. While yes, Lan Wangji had stopped visiting Luo Qingyang and Qin Su at night, he hardly indulged himself in Mo Xuanyu’s company. In fact, the number of times in a month he’d allow any kind of... “conjugal” contact could be counted on one hand.

Wei Wuxian found that very odd for a young man in his twenties with plenty of beauties at his disposal. Wen Chao certainly went whoring and raking across Qishan without any regard for decorum; Wen Xu was a little more private with his business, but Wei Wuxian had seen ladies and maids coming and going from his quarters.

All the wasteful and lavish behaviours Wei Wuxian associated with royalty and nobility did not seem to apply to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji was just... different...

...special. 

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian shook himself free from his thoughts, the sudden jerk of his shoulders rattling the fine china of the cup of tea he held on a tray. He did not realize his mind had wondered off with its fancies as he observed Lan Wangji in his study. Candlelight burned low within the lampshade, casting his shadow long and wane across the back wall. The man had been working the night away, his attention undividedly focused on the scrolls and missive piled on his bureau.  

But now, those eyes - dark and bright and only had interest for duty and country - were on him. Wei Wuxian ducked his head at once, though it was not entirely an active of subservience. He just...didn’t like the way Lan Wangji looked at him, like he saw him, like he knew him. 

“Do not stand at the doorway. You’ll catch a chill,” said the prince. 

Wei Wuxian made his way quickly into the study and placed the cup of tea down by his elbow. “Wangye, it’s very late. You ought to rest. I’ve prepared a bath and arranged the bed.”  

Lan Wangji looked as though he wanted to protest, but a yawn overtook him unexpectedly before he could. “Perhaps you’re right,” said he after the yawn passed. 

Wei Wuxian reached out to help the other man stand, thinking that his legs must be pins and needles after sitting in one attitude for so long. His hands cradled Lan Wangi’s right elbow and wrist as they both rose to their feet, but when he tried to draw back, a warm hand laid itself on top of his own. 

“It’s late, Wei Ying. You should rest up as well.” He heard a quiet, gentle voice say. 

Wei Wuxian swallowed down a gasp of surprise for the bold contact, but this minor surprise was entirely insignificant to what he saw when he looked up.

 Lan Wangji was smiling.

Fact #3: Lan Wangji was a diligent prince, and a careful politician.  His many late nights and skipped meals can attest to that. 

Fact #4: Wei Wuxian was starting to warm up to him. Horrifying.   

WWX: I’m worried about dianxia; he’s working too hard. I think he’s grown thinner in the last month ╯︿╰ XY: * looks into the camera like he’s on The Office * 

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Letting you go

yandere!Deku x Reader

You were Deku's secretary. You had always been professional. Plus he wasn't at the office very often so you barely interacted face to face. So you were shocked when he professes his love for you.

TW: yandere themes, kidnapping, Deku yelling at you, mentions of physical harm (to the reader)

Hopefully this isn’t too terrible, I’m not a huge fan of Deku but at the same time I really wanted to try writing for other characters than just the one’s I simp for

You were the last one in the building, aside from the night guard who stayed on the ground level. There was several PR events that you needed to enter into his schedule but then you'd head home. You hadn't even heard the pro come in.

"You always stay so late," Deku’s voice startled you. "We should really pay you more."

He had to be joking, he was constantly giving the staff raises and bonuses so you made plenty. Okay well maybe he only did this for you, but no one else needed to know that right? You didn't even know.

Regaining your composure you wondered why he was stopping in, usually he just goes home after a late day.

"I wanted to come check on you. I figured there was a pretty high chance of you over working yourself."

"I'm okay, Deku. I'm almost done then I'm heading straight home."

"Please stop calling me that," he reminded you. Shortly after you began working for his agency he asked that you to only use his hero name when others were around. Hearing you call his name shot a warm tingling sensation down his neck.

"I forget," You smiled politely. "I should head out now, thank you for checking on me, Izuku."

You were stepping away from your desk when he stopped you.

"Before you go we should talk."

There was something about the whole situation that began to unsettle you. Although it was probably nothing. You would hear him out it and it would be something work related. Or not.

"I love you."

You blinked, unsure how to respond to your bosses confession.

"I really love you and whenever I'm on patrol I constantly worry about you. It's no secret that this is my agency’s office. Any villain can attack while I'm away. If I'm not here-" he quieted himself.

You weren't sure where the conversation was going but you didn't feel good about it.

"Well, there's always one or two sidekicks around," You reassured.

"But how can I be sure they'd be able to protect you. I just can't take that risk. I can't have you work here anymore."

Your stomach plummeted, "You're letting me go? Don't I-"

"No, no," he cut you off. "I'm not letting you go. I'm just trying to do the right thing."

He was firing you because he loved you. How sick. What did you do to make him love you?

Just as you were about to speak, the number one hero's phone rang. He began his muttering before looking to you with apologetic eyes.

"I have to take this, just wait here. We aren't done."

And for a moment you did. He rushed into his office, leaving you in the dimly lit silence.

But then you figured that was enough. He fired you. Her told you he loved you and he couldn't work properly because of you and then fired you. You grabbed you bag began to rush to your car, tears of embarrassment falling from your eyes. You couldn't help but blame yourself, you were such an idiot. This had to be your fault.

He can have HR reach out to me, You thought. You had just exited the parking lot when your phone rang. **Deku**.

Trying to get over yourself you picked up.

"Where are you? I told you to stay put," he seethed through the speaker. Terror shot through your veins. He never sounded like this.

"You already said what you had to. I'm fired. Can't you just have HR call me or something?" You sniffled.

"Weren't you listening? I need you to be safe. You can't just run off like this."

"I am being perfectly safe," You hissed. "Do you expect me to get permission from you before I do anything? I don't work for you."

"You know what, it would be nice if you got permission before running off like a brat."

**click**

You didn't have to listen to him treat you like a child. The self blame began to subside and was replaced with rage. You could easily report him for misconduct.

But what's the point? He's at the top.

You felt better as you locked the door to your apartment. You turned off your phone, which had been buzzing non stop. The only thing on your mind was sleep. Wrapped in your blanket you began to drift off on the couch - your preferred spot when faced with despair.

Unaware of when you fell asleep you jolted awake to a crushing pressure on your chest.

"Deku," You gasped.

"Stop calling me that. Stop running off. Stop misbehaving. Just because you can't work doesn't mean I'm letting you go. You won't have to work at all, you can just stay home and rest and let me worry about everything. This will be good for us."

You thrashed wildly as he forced a gag into your mouth.

"Come on, let's get you home so you can rest your ankle."

You made a confused noise.

"You hurt it while running away from me," he rubbed the joint. "I know it hurts, just take a deep breath."

Then he twisted.

[blacktofade]

Remember the BFU episode where they sleep over at the Lizzie Borden house and there’s that shot of Shane and Ryan in sweats in a tiny bed? I turned it filthy for @egg2k16.

*

The bed in the Borden house really isn’t made for two grown men. Shane knows the second he sees it, but it’s confirmed when they crawl into it that night — or perhaps it’s technically early morning — ready to settle down.

“I’ll try not to spoon you,” Ryan says as Shane rolls onto his side away from him, limbs tucked in close to try to force them into submission.

“If you do, at least make it good,” Shane jokes and shuts his eyes to the sound of Ryan’s laughter.

Nevertheless, Shane wakes to the unending heat of Ryan’s body curled up close behind him. The space between them has disappeared and Ryan’s arm is looped around his waist like it belongs. Though, to be fair, it usually does.

“Ryan,” Shane grunts, sweat prickling at his temples. “Ryan.”

Ryan presses his face between Shane’s shoulders, his breath hot through the thin fabric of Shane’s shirt. His fingers tease at the tie of Shane’s sweats and when he shifts forwards just a little more, his hips fit flush against Shane’s ass.

“Mmm,” Ryan grunts and rocks against him.

“Ryan,” Shane repeats. “Ryan, the cameras.”

Ryan lets out a longer breath, which is how Shane knows he’s awake, and lets his fingers slip into the waistband of Shane’s sweats.

“I’ll edit the footage,” he promises, but Shane’s not entirely sold.

“Ryan.”

“I’ll edit it at home before it even makes it into the office.” Shane falls silent and he can feel Ryan’s impatience in the way his fingers slip down just a little closer to his cock. “We’re under the covers. It’s fine.”

“We’re on the clock,” Shane points out and Ryan lets out a laugh that Shane can feel through his back.

“Then you can have the most expensive handjob you’ve ever had.”

Ryan taps out a quick pattern with his fingertips just above the line of Shane’s pubic hair, and Shane knows he’s waiting for approval.

Shane knows better. They should wait until they’re back at their apartment, where it can’t be considered professional misconduct. But Ryan’s so warm behind him and he’s already most of the way hard against Shane’s ass.

Carefully, Shane rolls his hips back against Ryan, and Ryan makes a happy noise and lets his hand slip the rest of the way down his sweats.

“Just let me — ” Ryan starts and Shane can make an educated guess about what he wants. He’s got a gentle rhythm going, slowly rubbing against Shane like it’s all he needs. And maybe it is.

When Ryan wraps a hand around him, his palm is too dry, it’s too much all at once, but he pulls and shifts until the head of Shane’s cock is trapped under the waistband of his sweats, the tip barely poking free. With the ends of his fingers, Ryan massages at him, smearing wetness as it leaks freely, and Shane thinks Ryan might be a genius.

“Fuck,” Shane curses, and he can almost hear the smile in Ryan’s voice.

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “That’s what I thought.”

“Jesus.”

“I think they gave us this tiny bed for a reason,” Ryan tells him, continuing to tease his cock. “Gotta stay warm.”

“Warm enough,” Shane gets out and Ryan hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe.” He taps his thumb against Shane’s slit and Shane’s leg jerks where it’s curled up.

He can feel the heat of Ryan where he’s grinding against him and he wonders if they’re about to make a mess they can’t clean up.

“Wait,” Shane says, and for what it’s worth, Ryan does actually pause, his body trembling with the effort.

It’s not easy in such a tiny bed, but somehow Shane manages to roll over, adjusting their positions until he can grind against Ryan properly. In the dark, Ryan reaches up for his face, pulling him down into a kiss that Shane didn’t realize he needed. It’s been a long weekend of no touching, pretending they’re only friends.

Despite all his hesitance, Shane finds himself wanting more. Carefully, he tugs at Ryan’s sweats, unsurprised when he finds Ryan’s not wearing anything underneath.

“Easy access,” Ryan murmurs against his mouth and Shane quietens him with another kiss.

Ryan feels so solid beneath him, his thighs stretching out his sweats, his shirt pulled tight across his chest.

“C’mon,” Ryan encourages, kissing along Shane’s jaw, and Shane doesn’t need to be told twice.

He finds just the right angle and grinds against Ryan, hearing the thump of his head as it drops backwards into his pillow. The breath Ryan lets out is shallow and unsteady, and Shane knows he’s got it right.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Shane gets worked up, but he’s never learned how to control himself around Ryan. It’s his only flaw.

“God, that feels good, Shane,” Ryan murmurs and Shane can’t help but agree. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough. “Wish I could see you.”

Shane leans down to kiss him again and lets out a sharp gasp as Ryan gets a hand between them, guiding them together and giving Shane the extra pressure he needs to get the rest of the way there.

He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead against Ryan’s as he comes, hot and messy between them, forcing himself to keep moving until Ryan finally follows him over the edge.

Ryan clutches at him with the hand not between them and makes a noise — a muffled moan that sounds too loud in the quiet of the house around them — that has Shane’s cock twitching, leaking out a little more come.

“Holy shit,” Ryan exhales, his breath turning into a laugh against Shane’s cheek. “That felt disrespectful.”

“Not our finest moment,” Shane agrees and Ryan laughs again.

“We gave the ghosts a show.”

Shane doesn’t bother taking the bait, just kisses Ryan silent until Ryan seems to realize what he’s doing. Slowly, Ryan pulls away, his fingers coming up to tug at the hair at the nape of Shane’s neck.

“What about cleaning up?” he asks, and Shane leans to the side on one elbow, trying to assess the damage in the dark. He can’t see much, but based on the stickiness of Ryan under his hand, it’s all the way across his stomach where his shirt has ridden up.

“I tried to warn you,” Shane complains, even as an idea begins to form.

“That doesn’t help me now,” Ryan points out and Shane presses a hand to his chest and holds him down flat against the bed.

“You need to scrub all of this footage,” Shane says, and he can feel Ryan’s confusion.

“What?” he asks, and instead of replying, Shane shifts, dipping beneath the covers.

When his mouth finds Ryan’s skin, Ryan’s cock twitches under his chin, and above him, Ryan says, “Oh. Oh, okay.”

And after that, as Shane’s tongue swipes across his skin, Ryan doesn’t seem to be able to form any words at all. Shane considers it a success.

[itsxandy]

20 First lines

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories.  See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

@windona BITCH I'VE GOT, LIKE, FIVE STORIES AND YOU GONNA TAG ME IN THIS? Now I gotta dig through all my trash for something to post.

Salvage Operation/Reconstruction: Ace wasn’t sure how long he’d been searching for Luffy, but by the time he’d found him at the cliffs that sat at the base of Mount Corvo, the sun had just finished hitting its peak and was beginning to make its descent.

stormy weather: Law stared at the blank screen, expression frozen in a twisted smile.

Untitled AceLaw fic: The most irritating part of traveling the Grand Line as a doctor was that everyone for some reason expected him to be an expert in every related field.

Landlocked Blues: Law watched impassively as the Straw Hats and the Kid Pirates loaded their boats. ((rough rough draft))

Bounty hunter fic: Alabasta wasn’t an easy place to live. (??? also, the roughest of rough drafts)

A New Hope, from the ghost lights series: Izuku waits every day after school at Gran Torino’s flat.

search/i've got something in my eye, from the ghost lights series: “I don’t know what you want from me. You probably know more than I do,” Bakugo gritted out.

fucker's got it out for me: Bakugo will acknowledge, on some level, he’s made more than a few mistakes in life--and he’s pretty sure this fuckass vigilante has made it his personal mission to witness every single one/as many as he possibly can.

Bakugo Fucking Dies: Bakugo has always been the worst roommate. He breaks your stuff, throws things everywhere, ruins your electronics, and constantly leaves angry messages on the mirror. Not much has changed since he died.

salad days, from the Cold War Kids series: Gabriel was always braced for the rough transition between schools.

untitled mcgenji murder roadtrip: Once regarded as one of the most powerful families of Japan, the Shimada name no longer carries any weight.

someone to hold you to close: He’s being watched. 

Untitled work, from the Professional Misconduct series: The Korcari Wilds had been a wretched experience.

Roads Less Traveled from the Professional Misconduct series: It had been almost fortnight since Aveline had managed to fight her way tooth and nail out of the massacre that took place at Ostagar.

Hetairae (?): Even though it was warm enough indoors that he could almost feel himself beginning to sweat, Hawke felt mildly chilly.

F5, can’t remember the title: As far as his criminal history went, Wally was pretty simple.

F4, The Sting: Wally woke up early in the morning. 

F3, Network: Wally wasn’t really sure what he expected out of another encounter with Robin. 

F2, Marathon: There were maybe a little over two hundred students in the auditorium, which was probably an average size for an introductory course to psychology. 

F1, The New Kid on the Block: There was an outsider trespassing in Central. 

I was trying so desperately hard to find work and push Fedora Verse off the list because that story just fills me up with so much anxiety now, but I ended up just rounding it off to a perfect 20 instead. Was nice, if a little embarrassing, to see the progress I've made over 7 years of writing at least. But jesus christ I have to write more. If this list had been any shorter, I would've been posting, like, my high school Naruto fanfiction and facing the reality of my writing history. I'm just not strong enough. Not tagging anyone because this is just plain hurtful, but if anyone's interested in this meme, go for it!

[howling-harpy]

Mean boys

Summary: Colonel Sink gives his officers a stern talking to. Word count: 1936 * Colonel Sink’s mother had been a schoolteacher all her life. She had worked to support the two of them, and even though he had never wanted to follow in her footsteps into the profession, something about her iron will had followed him to his army career. Now was one of those moments when he felt it most. He was staring down a row of his own officers, all smart, capable, outstanding and valuable, hard-working soldiers he was proud of. Individually, at least.

Sink couldn’t quite believe he was giving this talk to his officers – Or well… he could believe it about Compton, Welsh, and even Nixon (who didn’t usually get caught), but never in a million years would have Sink thought that Dick Winters would end up in a line-up like this. To his credit, Winters was the only one who looked embarrassed to be there. Sink let his sharp gaze stare down each man in front of his desk. Welsh looked mild and bored, Compton was obviously pissed off, Nixon seemed both irritated and incredibly satisfied with himself, and Winters had all his embarrassment confined in one twitching eyebrow that was the only thing in his expression he didn’t seem to be able to control. “Now,” Sink barked at them, “I want to know exactly what’s happened. So out with it!” Immediately the three most likely guilty ones started explaining themselves at once, and the noise in the room spiked when they tried to speak over each other. “I don’t even know why I’m here – “ “I’m not going to do something useless and stupid for his amusement!” “Well it says in the manual that – “ “You’ve never opened a manual once in your damned service!” “ – it’s the mandatory gear and I have really nothing to do with – “ “ – because I don’t know anything and for once I didn’t even punch anyone, so…” “Be a man and admit it, goddammit! You know what you did!” “I’ve only responded how I’m spoken to, so actually it’s more wrong to ask me to keep calm when I’m yelled at – “ “For a reason!” “ – when I’ve really just given orders like they come from HQ and defended my honor – “ “What damn honor?!” “…so yeah, I don’t even take sides…” Sink felt a headache rapidly building up. “ENOUGH!” he snapped and slammed his hand on the desk, and immediately all three who had been yelling a second ago fell silent and stood in attention. Sink rubbed his temples. He had been with the army too long and seen way too many young men like this to be fooled by either Compton’s righteous anger or Nixon’s faked rationality. “One at a time, dammit,” he said more calmly, then glared again at each man before him and started to draft a plan how to get the truth out of them. “You, Welsh. You start,” he said after a moment, “why do you think you’re here?” A gap-toothed grin threatened to take over Welsh’s face and did no favours in clearing him, but he got it quickly under control. “Sir, I’m here for laughing,” he said in a voice that was only a thread away of making him guilty again. Sink took a deep, calming breath that ruffled his moustache. “What were you laughing at, Lieutenant?” he asked calmly. Welsh shrugged. “Nixon made funny comments and I laughed at them.” “And why has that resulted in you being here now?” Sink asked, refusing to become irritated. Welsh shrugged and smiled a wide, careless smile. “Lieutenant Compton didn’t agree with me,” he cheerfully said. Sink stared the Irishman down for a moment longer to let him know he was not satisfied, but he also had to admit that he was getting nowhere with him. What he could tell was that whatever role Welsh had played in the disgraceful display, he considered himself innocent, and so Sink turned to look at the two others mentioned standing in the middle. Compton was still red in the face, and Nixon had his characteristic expression that at the first glance seemed blank but actually held just enough of a smirk to be detected but not enough to discipline him for. Sink knew that many of his senior officer colleagues found that arrogant not-quite-smirk infuriating, but Sink thought of his mother and felt pity for Nixon; He recalled her stories about many difficult boys who were aloof but charming and who rebelled with smirks on their faces, but who often carried bruises she knew were not sports injuries or accidents like they claimed. That didn’t make Nixon innocent though. Anything but, actually. He was one of the most devilish men Sink had ever trained or commanded, and the definition of someone who was too smart for his own good. Sink looked at the two Lieutenants and gathered that whatever this was, it was most likely something that had started between them. They both pretended like it wasn’t so, but Sink could see they disliked each other deeply. They were both still boys who knew nothing about rising above your ego or acting professionally, but their attempts at it were at least a valiant effort. Still, things like this leaked through. So instead of getting to the core now, Sink decided to teach them patience and turned his eyes to Lieutenant Winters instead. He was standing there stone-faced and not a little flustered and looked remarkably boyish himself, his hands squeezed into fists like he feared he was about to be rapped on the knuckles with a ruler. “Lieutenant Winters,” Sink addressed him directly and watched his expression tighten, “what I am most curious about is what an officer like you has to do with disgraceful behavior like this?” He knew remarks like that would hurt, but Winters demonstrated his strong character once again by not covering or even flinching. He did shift on his feet, though. “Sir…” he started and didn’t seem to know how to continue. “…I was just trying to keep Lieutenant Compton and Lieutenant Nixon from getting hurt.” That wasn’t clearly all, but what Sink found the most interesting was that Winters obviously wanted to say more yet didn’t. He knew very well by now that Winters could lie with bright eyes if he felt it justified, and usually the presence of Nixon meant just that, but now he didn’t seem to be able to even circle the truth, which meant he felt guilty. “Well?” Sink urged him sternly to get the rest of it out. Winters almost squirmed. Almost. It was obvious that he wanted to, but he reined himself in at the last second. “I think I’m here for failing to stop this squabble from escalating. It should never have come to this, and I have personally failed as both a leader and a fellow officer.”

That surprised Sink. He hadn’t expected guilt that deep over an incident that, in the grand scheme of things, was pretty insignificant and nothing he hadn’t seen before.

“Well,” he said when he recovered from his surprise, “at least one of you owns up to your actions.” He turned to the other three, but only Nixon looked any different. His smirk had vanished.

For a moment longer Sink glared at his officers to let them know the gravity of his disappointment. Then he moved onto the actual reprimand, which he delivered in stern, coldly professional tone.

“You are officers. You are the example the enlisted men follow, you are what they look up to and seek out for guidance. In all things you should set the standard for the behavior you wish to see from your subordinates.” He paused, letting his words ring in the silence. “This means that under no circumstances should the enlisted men see two of their lieutenants run in circles and trying to get into a fist fight in the middle of the yard!”

Welsh coughed, obviously masking a laugh, and Sink turned to glare at him.

“Lieutenant Welsh, get the hell out of my sight. You should have put a stop to the fight instead of egging it on,” he barked and promptly jerked his hand towards the door.

Welsh assumed attention, saluted, and then hurried out, skipping over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Now you two,” Sink said, turning to chew out the two obvious culprits. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve managed to cook up between yourselves, but it ends now. You hear me? The whole damn company suffers from whatever little juvenile rivalry you’re having, and I won’t stand it a second longer! Understood?!”

A mutual “yes, sir” was muttered begrudgingly and with minimal enthusiasm, but it came from both Compton and Nixon, so that would suffice.

“From here on, Lieutenant Compton is permitted to lead his platoon in the way he chooses as long as it’s practical and appropriate. You don’t have to follow every single regulation in every manual. From here on you have my permission to continue to do things as we’ve always done them in the Airborne.” But before Compton had the time to turn to smirk at Nixon, Sink continued. “However, you will also cease all attempts at violence against your fellow officers, as well as throwing around serious accusations of misconduct. Those could have very serious consequences, and I won’t have one of my own officers endangering the integrity of Easy company with baseless rumors!”  

Compton looked like he really wanted to say something back, but bit back his words. “Yes, sir,” he forced out through his teeth, but that was good enough.

Sink turned his attention to Nixon. “Lieutenant Nixon, from now on you will bring any concerns you have about following the regulations in Easy company directly to the CO and stop interfering with individual platoon leaders. Understood?”

Nixon pressed his lips together and took a deep breath like he was incredibly bored, but breathed out: “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Sink said with a firm nod. “You are a smart officer and I hate to see you doing stupid things.” He let his words sink in, then gestured between Nixon and Winters and continued, “So how about in the future you take a look at how your friend here keeps his personal grudges to himself and follow his example? I know exactly just how close you two are, and you spend too much time around him to have any excuses of not having a clear example to follow.”

For a split second Nixon looked almost startled and glanced at Winters by his side, who pointedly looked away. Next to them Compton let out a frustrated huff that was quiet enough to ignore, which was exactly what Sink elected to do.

Once more, he looked at each one, wanting to make himself perfectly clear. “I don’t want to hear about any of this ever again, understood?” he demanded from them all.

A beat of silence passed.

“Yes, sir.”

“You won’t, sir.”

“Understood, sir.”

Sink nodded. “Good. Now get out of my sight, all of you, and get back to work.”

He watched all three of them hurrying out of this office, and when the door finally closed, he sighed. He had total confidence in the second battalion as a competent fighting unit, but moments like this reminded him that the unit was made of boys. Boys with gossip and drama they cooked up when they got together like this and then tried to be all cocky and tough to hide their bleeding hearts.

Sink sighed and thanked God and his wife for having four daughters.

[tabloidtoc]

Star, December 28

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The Kardashians in ruins 

Page 1: Fans jumped to conclusions when Taylor Swift who is known to drop hints about her personal life in her music videos posted a teaser shot for her new clip for Willow of herself in a lacy dress and floral headpiece looking very much like a blushing bride -- Taylor and boyfriend Joe Alwyn have been talking weddings and they initially discussed throwing a big bash in Joe’s native England but they’ve reconsidered since holing up in Taylor’s farm outside Nashville so now they’re just going to go ahead and get married in a small romantic ceremony and forgo the church wedding and elaborate reception since they are super private and prefer to do things out of the spotlight 

Page 2: Contents, Heather Rae Young scoped out wedding dresses with Chrishell Stause by her side 

Page 4: Jennifer Lawrence and Leonardo DiCaprio are heating up the Boston set of their movie Don’t Look Up where their chemistry is off the charts even though both are seriously taken: Jennifer is wed to Cooke Maroney and Leo’s been dating Camila Marrone since 2017 but Jennifer and Leo have always had a flirty rapport whenever they bumped into each other at awards shows and other industry events -- Jennifer’s husband Cooke could be annoyed with all the flirting even if the actors are keeping things professional and as for Camila she finds his connection with Jennifer pretty intimidating 

Page 5: There’s plenty of tension on the set of The Morning Show now that Julianna Margulies has joined Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Aniston on the series -- Jen wasn’t in on the decision to add Julianna to the cast and is miffed she wasn’t consulted and doesn’t understand why Reese insisted bringing Julianna on board and she’s just plain hurt that the new arrival has been getting so chummy with her BFF and Julianna and Reese are whispering behind everybody’s backs and barking orders like they own the place and they’re not even inviting Jen to lunch 

* Olivia Jade Giannulli addressed her part in the $500,000 bribe that ensured her entrance into USC and sent her parents Lori Loughlin and Mossimo Giannulli to prison and reactions to her appearance were harsh with a typical commenter calling her smug but she thinks she did well and figures this will be good for her career as a social-media influencer 

* Martha Stewart has been flourishing during lockdown and a new photo shows her looking beyond refreshed leaving some to wonder if she’s doing more than nibbling her new CBD gummies to look so good

Page 6: Kelly Clarkson’s divorce from Brandon Blackstock may be getting ugly but her ex-mother-in-law Reba McEntire is standing by her side even though it can get a little awkward at time but nothing is going to get in the way of Kelly and Reba’s relationship 

* A slew of A-listers are about to be dragged into Johnny Depp’s defamation case against his ex-wife Amber Heard as shocking new court papers allege that Johnny had affairs with a bevvy of his costars including Angelina Jolie and Keira Knightley and Marion Cotillard and must submit all responsive communications with them -- the women are mortified and embarrassed they’re being pulled into Johnny and Amber’s tawdry split while for his part Johnny flipped out when he learned he needed to produce his communications with these women and he’s calling the tactics lowdown and disgusting 

* Star Spots the Stars -- David Beckham, Chrissy Teigen, Carrie Underwood, Gal Gadot, Floyd Mayweather, Nick Offerman, Hilaria Baldwin 

Page 8: Star Shots -- Audrina Patridge and her daughter Kirra out in Beverly Hills, Pete Wentz let his bleached hair down during a tennis game in L.A., Joe Jonas and wife Sophie Turner walking with their daughter in a stroller in L.A. 

Page 10: Steve Martin took his meal to go during a break from filming Only Murders in the Building in Central Park, Josh Duhamel and his son Axl enjoyed a playful romp in the grass, Paris Hilton and Carter Reum celebrated their one-year anniversary in Bora Bora 

Page 11: Diane Keaton jokingly flirted with the men watching on The Ellen DeGeneres Show in Burbank, Sir Michael Palin brought the laughs during his appearance on The Jonathan Ross Show in London 

Page 12: ‘Tis the Season -- Kristen Taekman left a nursery in Encino, a decked out Lil Nas X and Ellen DeGeneres opted for a safe season’s greetings by bumping elbows on the talk show 

Page 13: Brooke Burke was all smiles shooting content for her fitness app in Malibu, Niecy Nash and wife Jessica Betts kicked off their first holiday season as a married couple in plaid pajamas 

Page 14: Kylie Minogue performing on The Jonathan Ross show in London, Irina Shayk out and about with daughter Lea in NYC, Jeremy Renner and Hailee Steinfeld and a canine costar filmed scenes for Hawkeye in NYC

Page 15: Selling Sunset star Christine Quinn showing some major skin during a photoshoot in L.A., Antonio Banderas and journalist Maria Casado posed for photos at a presentation for their new Spanish television series Escena en Blanco y Negro in Malaga, Spain 

Page 16: Beach Babes -- Chantal Jeffries and boyfriend Drew Taggart in Miami, Mark Zuckerberg showed off his gliding skills on his $12,000 eFoil electric surfboard in Hawaii 

Page 17: Chris Pratt used his hoverboard as a weight after hitting the sand with his son, Julia Roberts enjoyed a solo stroll in Hawaii 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Vanilla Ice headlining the drive-in Winterfest concert in West Palm Beach -- normal, Demi Moore wearing big boxing gloves -- not normal, James Franco couldn’t go without his phone during a getaway in Mexico -- not normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars look timeless in black -- Sofia Carson, Nicole Richie 

Page 21: Taylor Hill, Vanessa Kirby 

Page 24: Like so many Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton are putting their future on hold amid the global health pandemic and Gwen revealed that the two won’t even set a date for their nuptials in order to avoid a COVID situation that would require restrictions -- they have already nailed down a few details like the location which is Blake’s Ten Point Ranch in Oklahoma where he proposed inside a chapel Blake built for Gwen on the 1300-acre property

Page 25: Brian Austin Green and Megan Fox are embroiled in a bitter custody war over their sons Noah and Bodhi and Journey -- Brian responded to Megan’s divorce filing by requesting joint custody and spousal support and he’s in a non-negotiating mood and if she tries to take his kids it’s going to get ugly really fast 

* James Franco is ready to pop the question to girlfriend Isabel Pakzad and he’s been looking at rings -- dating since 2017 the two overcame a difficult time in 2018 after James was accused by multiple women of misconduct -- surviving that scandal and enjoying their time in lockdown has convinced James he’s found The One 

* Kristin Cavallari and comedian Jeff Dye who were first linked in October jetted off to Mexico for a fun getaway with friends where the couple smooched and danced and enjoyed cocktails and had a wonderful time in Cabo but Kristin isn’t looking for anything serious following her divorce from Jay Cutler 

Page 26: Cover Story -- the Kardashian empire crumbles -- with their show leaving the air early next year the Kardashian-Jenner crew could stand to lose it all -- ratings for Keeping Up With the Kardashians reached a new low before they pulled the plug and it’s obvious fans are losing interest and they spend money like it’s going out of fashion 

Page 30: A Spy at the Palace -- after a staff member steals more than $200,000 worth of her personal keepsakes Queen Elizabeth no longer feels safe in her home 

Page 33: Gone Too Soon -- a look back at the celebrities we lost in 2020 and the legacies they leave behind -- Naya Rivera, Kelly Preston, Regis Philbin 

Page 34: Kobe Bryant, Chadwick Boseman, Alex Trebek 

Page 40: Beauty -- pretty pout -- sparkly, shiny and matte lipsticks to rock this New Year’s Eve -- Rihanna 

Page 42: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Vanessa Hudgens as host of the first MTV Movie & TV Awards: Greatest of All Time 

[aziraphale-rights]

If there was ever a good place to pick up bad habits – it was Ancient Rome.

When Aziraphale arrived in Rome, he hadn’t actually eaten anything in about a century. No, that’s a fib; he’d eaten a bowl of goat curry on a high-altitude outpost in the Himalayas, and a side of boar bought somewhere in Gaul after narrowly avoiding a discorporation, and he could remember both of those meals with a depth of detail that was truly remarkable. So, not nothing, but not very much, not since he sent in his report about the Caledonian assignment.

The painstaking project of establishing a chosen family as a prosperous local influence was one that had gone rather well, actually, and he’d submitted his lengthy report with the hopeful expectation that Head Office would be pleased with him for once. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Michael was in his room not three hours after the report got sent up.

‘Three meals a day?’ she’d demanded icily, without preamble, holding the document aloft between a rather disdainful forefinger and thumb.

‘Er,’ Aziraphale had answered, recovering the unlit tallow candle he’d dropped on the ground in surprise when she manifested. ‘Yes. The humans really rather – ’

‘And you didn’t think that was disgusting?’ continued Michael, with dangerous calm.

‘Well… no,’ said Aziraphale, painfully aware that this was the wrong answer. Not that he’d known about it before now. He’d fallen into the pattern by accident, mostly, trying not to be too conspicuously inhuman while settling in to spend a decade with a close-knit tribe. Then it had become apparent just how much the pattern humanised him to his marks. So he’d embraced it. ‘Actually, it helped a great deal with the assignment, so I thought I’d include it in the report as a sort of – as a tip. They really listen to you, when you eat with them. The same way they listen to each other.’

Michael still looked calm. It still felt dangerous. She lifted an eyebrow.

‘You’re saying you want us to recommend that other angels do this kind of thing?’

‘Oh. Recommend is rather strong. I only meant it as a, as a, as an observation. In case anyone else might find it helpful. I just thought… well, as the only angel permanently stationed on Earth, I thought – ’

‘You’re the only angel permanently stationed on Earth,’ Michael took over, ‘so it’s inevitable you’ll be forced to do unpleasant things from time to time. For appearances’ sake. But it’s disturbing that you no longer keep degrading behaviour like this to a minimum, Aziraphale.’

‘Oh,’ he said again, nonplussed. ‘I see.’

To tell the truth, he was rather embarrassed at the discovery that he might have been blithely committing misconduct all this time. He wasn’t quite sure whether this policy against eating was new, or if he just hadn’t known about it before now, but it didn’t seem wise to ask Michael, in case it turned out to be the latter. (Come to think of it, there had been quite a number of times recently when his superiors had dropped in on him while he was eating. He’d found this disconcerting, but hadn’t thought the pattern was intentional. Now he wondered if it was a hint, and he missed it. Oh dear.)  

Nor did it seem wise to ask whether the policy had really come from the Very Top. That might seem impertinent.

So he asked no questions.

Michael went on:

‘Luckily for you, I’d rather turn a blind eye than write out a reprimand for something so vulgar, but I must remind you informally: the more you stain yourself down here, the harder it will be to clean off.’ For a moment it seemed like this was all she had to say, but then she closed her eyes and adopted a perfectly revolted expression. ‘And, Aziraphale. Whatever you have to do to get by on this job… for the love of God, don’t make me read about it.’

Then she disappeared from his room without a farewell, as if unable to stand the sight of him for another second.

So, Aziraphale stopped eating.

This decision turned out to be less straightforward than he expected. Later on, he would struggle to remember when, exactly, the attempt to eat less had evolved into an outright ban. He just knew that it had proved worryingly difficult.

He’d simply never had to think so much about food before. It had always been a part of the job, of course. Not the most disagreeable part, either. He worked with humans, and their social practices made it inevitable that an affable, human-looking sort would get offered food fairly often, if he was hanging around them enough. If it was expedient, or pleasurable, to say yes – Aziraphale would say yes.

It was after Michael’s visit that he first encountered hunger, a feeling angels are not supposed to know. He’d always been able to go months without eating, during long journeys and famines and floods, and never experienced any discomfort. Now, for the first time, when someone offered him food, he had to remind himself to say no, even when it would have been expedient or pleasurable to accept it. And this made him notice something altogether new. Every time he said it, an unfamiliar something tugged at a spot in the middle of his chest. Not a painful tug, exactly, but there. Sometimes, difficult to ignore.

He observed this change in himself with concern. The more you stain yourself down here, the harder it will be to clean off. He’d never accepted so much food as he did in that little Caledonian village, never allowed his corporation to settle into a rhythm of predictable eating before. Clearly, doing so had left a lasting impression.

And why hadn’t he given it any thought? How had he not realised the other angels would be disgusted by it? He’d eaten so much he’d had to go to the midden every day, like a human, not just to pass water but the other thing – oh, goodness. And he’d told Michael about it. No wonder she had been upset. Aziraphale might as well have sent her a long description of his defecation habits.

When this thought dawned on him he went cold all over, and then he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. It would come back to distress him several times a day, always at very inconvenient moments, and so intensely that he would draw alarmed looks from nearby humans as he groaned aloud and banged his fists on his forehead.

Not to mention the torture he went through after dark. He’d wasted plenty of nights worrying about his professional missteps, of course, but for some reason this humiliation crawled right under his skin in a way his previous errors had not. Aziraphale would go over and over and over the whole incident in his mind: what Michael must have thought when she read the report, what she must have said to the other archangels, whether they had laughed about him, what they now knew. Worrying about it was futile and painful and childish, and soon he was doing it every night without fail, robbing himself of his usual hours of privacy and peace. Just one more lasting consequence to his thoughtlessness. Along with this new need, this hunger.

Still, lasting didn’t have to mean permanent. He had trained himself into it, so he must be able to train himself out of it again. It wasn’t that he planned to avoid food forever. Only until the problem was fixed. If he fought it for long enough, surely, the hunger would go away.

Aziraphale waited to find out how long this would take. The answer certainly wasn’t ‘a short time’. In fact, the more time went on, the harder that something seemed to tug. Soon it was happening not just when he had to say no, but also when he heard others saying yes, or when he passed a group of humans eating together, or when he thought for too long about food. After a decade or so, the tug had become so insistent that occasionally, when someone started enjoying a meal in his vicinity, he would have to simply walk away, because the sight of it was more than he could stand.

But he didn’t give up on the idea of re-training himself. If anything, he felt more committed. His increasing discomfort only underlined the importance of getting rid of the hunger, and resisting it was relatively easy, if not very enjoyable, during that first century. Aziraphale faced little in the way of temptation, in most of the places he passed through. Head Office kept sending him to dusty little villages and remote backwaters, where people had so little that they couldn’t afford to offer any part of it to guests, and that meant there was more than one good reason to turn it down if they did. He got thinner, and people started trying to give him food more often. He miracled himself to look fuller, so they wouldn’t.

He felt pleased with himself, really. He didn’t know when the tug would go away, if a hundred years wasn’t enough, but now he knew how to ignore it, and that meant he could wait as long as it took, until it did.

And then Aziraphale walked into Rome.

Rome where they had just discovered dining culture, and takeaways, and celebrity chefs. Rome where all his wealthy marks flaunted the fact that they had far more to eat than they needed, where guests were routinely greeted by slaves with platters, where restaurant doors were flung open and street vendors sizzled their wares on the street and the scent of it was everywhere you went, like Gomorrah all over again.

Heaven hated them, these big cities, where they drank and danced and touched and ate. Aziraphale tried not to go into them, because of how much he liked them and how much Heaven hated them, but in the end he got an assignment that meant there was absolutely no avoiding the place that was currently the epicentre of everything, so he walked into Rome.

Aziraphale went almost a clean century without eating anything, and then he walked into Rome, and he could not think about anything except food.

(To be continued...)

[steadyreadycollective]

ACCOUNTABILITY DEMAND OF WOODY BATTAGLIA

This is an open letter to demand Rochester, NY comedian and organizer Woody Battaglia [ETA: legal name, Ron Wood] be held accountable for numerous incidents of sexual harassment and assault. The following photos depict conversations and testimonies from survivors. We stand in solidarity with these women, who span the age ranges of 25-35 years old, come from various class backgrounds and include BIPOC women. While not all of them are part of the local comedy scene in Rochester, NY, the majority of them are or were in the past.      Due to the obvious patterns of predation by Battaglia, as well as his standing in the comedy community as a show organizer,  we anticipate more survivors coming forward once these accounts have been read.    The oldest incident reported happened in 2013.     [NOTE: Dissociative disorders are common responses to a traumatic event.]  

Predation and sexual exploitation is a common tactic among men in leadership positions because power often distorts perception. These men overestimate someone’s friendliness as sexual attraction which creates a dangerous pattern of entitlement. Here is testimony from a woman who experienced Battaglia’s abuse of power in response to her avoiding his prolonged, unwanted sexual advances:   

Here is another example of unwanted sexual advances from March, 2019: 

A third person explained how Battaglia groomed her at the beginning of her career in an egregious attempt to normalize his sexual advances :   

In a scene that is notoriously male-dominated, Woody Battaglia made numerous women feel sexualized, fetishized and unsafe. Sadly, this behavior escalated.    CW: The following is an account of sexual assault.   

There have been a few attempts at holding Battaglia accountable for his actions, but he usually gaslights survivors and/or their advocates:

  Battaglia’s few apologies have been empty and without any notes of true remorse or motions towards rehabilitation.    Often, people are unwilling or unable to recognize themselves as assault victims, thus lacking the ability to hold their assailants accountable. Predatory people rely on many things, including social hierarchies, shame, embarrassment and the culture of victim-blaming that happens when survivors come forward. Fear of an unfair legal system as well as police ridicule are also major contributing factors to this culture of silence. 

  We have reason to believe Battaglia is aware that numerous women have come together to exchange stories of his serial sexual harassment, assaults, gaslighting and professional retaliation. Almost three hours ago, he sent his usual attempt at an apology to a woman where he incentivized her silence by offering free professional development:    

We are extremely grateful for all of the women who came forward and bravely used their voices to help put an end to Woody Battaglia’s devastating behaviors. This problem is not unique, especially within creative industries where men are often given positions of power and act as gatekeepers. These are not occupational hazards. These are CRIMES.     As stated previously, we have no doubt more survivors will come forward. We will support any attempts made by them towards healing, safety, recovery and accountability.    WE DEMAND:    1. Wood Battaglia be immediately removed from any roles of leadership within the comedy community and beyond.    2. Woody Battaglia provide any people willing to work with him a concrete plan to make amends, rehabilitate and honor the autonomy of his victims.    3. Men within the local comedy community make larger, more impactful efforts to speak up for women, femme and non-binary performers. INVEST IN US. PROTECT US. DEFEND US. FOREVER.     If you are a survivor in need of help, please go to https://restoresas.org/    You are not alone.           _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _    [We’ve decided to consolidate the updates so they are also in this original post]      UPDATE 1:   We have been informed by survivors that they wish to include Battaglia’s legal name, Ron Wood, in the initial post so we have amended it to reflect those changes. Two more survivors have come forward publicly and one of them has allowed us to re-post her response from last night to this page in hopes of submitting further evidence of Battaglia’s serial predation and, more importantly, to document an incident that dates earlier than 2013, as previously reported. The following incident is from 2012 :  

We continue to be in awe of the bravery these women have shown. Coming forward with these testimonies is such a vulnerable and costly action, even when protected by anonymity. Though the solidarity of survivor-kinship can feel validating, these women are still hurting and are likely experiencing new levels of harm by reading the accounts of others.   It is our duty to affirm the anger and sorrow of these women, and all survivors, everywhere. The strength they have shown is not only admirable, but life-saving. In order to achieve true liberation for all, we must actively invest in the uplifting of community members’ voices, especially those historically silenced. We have the power to strengthen our communities from the inside. We don’t need saviors. Men: take action. Step up. Call your brothers in and have the hard conversations. Follow through. This work is a daily grind. Ask yourselves if you’ve done the actual work, or if you’re being performative. Remember, saying nothing also says something. To disengage from this conversation is to employ systems that continue to replicate the violences of oppression and, specifically, rape culture.   No more. We’ve had enough.         _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _       UPDATE 2:    We wish to thank the local Rochester comedy scene and worldwide comedy scenes and unaffiliated individuals who’ve expressed public support of the women who’ve come forward and their lead advocate (a local comedian who has fielded and submitted all of the provided screenshots to us.) This is an extraordinary show of solidarity that gives us hope. The following screenshot is from 2013, submitted by Emily Champion, a former employee of the (now closed) Acanthus Cafe on East Avenue. She worked there for approximately nine months while Battaglia hosted an open mic series.   As the open mic series was coming to its end, Battaglia sent the following inappropriate sexual advance to Champion (note the full month of non-communication between them) :  

Each testimonial thus far has shown unwelcome verbal and physical sexual attention or instances of sexual misconduct and assault. The majority of women speaking up have noted their “subordinate” positions - Battaglia was in a role of power, abusing his social standing and their trust, causing them to fear social or professional retribution.   In our experience with offenders within artistic communities, job insecurity and unreliable wages can be contributing factors in a person’s growing resentment of their “unappreciated” leadership roles. Over time, these people develop an inadequate sense of superiority and entitlement, justifying inappropriate sexual demands from people they believe “owe” them. Due to the voluntary nature of hosting and organizing, many victims lack proper channels to report sexual harassment or assault, leading to further exploitation.

For Those Struggling with The Allegations Against Battaglia

We understand and support you, too. Rape culture’s entire foundation is built on a myriad of the worst emotions / responses: confusion, shame, embarrassment, uncertainty, shock, fear and silence.  Your close proximity to a predatory person does not make you complicit but it might require you examine whether you can actively assist in any prolonged rehabilitation and accountability efforts.   Often, the immediate response to allegations of sexual misconduct or abuse are to ostracize or make threats to the offender. Everyone responds differently to news of sexual harassment and assault, but the healthiest response is to be supportive of survivors and not commit unlawful acts of retaliation. Yes, it is possible to believe the survivors and remain in healthy contact with the accused. Yes, it is possible to recognize the offender’s humanity and well-being while holding them accountable for their actions and assisting their rehabilitation if you choose.

Allow yourself space. Set boundaries. Seek a professional to support your own physical and mental health.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

NOTE:  Incidents like these are why we renounce performative activism: public displays of “woke-ness” (via political memes or declarations made on social media) are by no means indicative of how a person acts in their personal or private life. These displays are sometimes used to thwart recognition of problematic behaviors.  

No community is immune to enabling predators. A way to be in direct opposition to this epidemic, which stems from power structures, is by explicitly opposing hierarchies within your community. Do not allow gatekeepers to happen (if there is A Leader of your scene, ask yourselves how they got there and why they've held their position if it’s been longer than a two year span.)   Anyone actively working to liberate the most marginalized members of their scene will make efforts to elevate their roles, providing access to leadership positions and community empowerment. Good luck, Rochester. There’s so much work to be done. We’re rooting for you.

[youthagainstrape]

How modelling industry is also known as molestation industry??

Modelling Industry and its reality Many people think that the life of a model is full of luxuries and comfort. They get to travel the world, wear designer clothes, all while making a lot of money. But in reality the lives of a model is not only full of glamour and comfort. There is a lot that goes on when the cameras aren’t flashing. It might shock anyone who is not familiar with the real modelling world. The modelling industry has a reputation for being tough on young and vulnerable men and women. Modelling as a profession isn’t a cake walk as most people think of it, and especially when it comes to how much an average model is paid in Ghana. Thousands of young men and women are working in this industry with a very less income. Questions are being raised over how well these models are being treated by clients and the agencies who are supposed to represent their best interest. Another reason is that some of the emerging and freelancing models are not interested in the finances of the modelling industry, but rather they are blinded by the fame and parties that come with the job and thus take whatever is served to them without questioning once and these acts ruin the industry because, when a professional model asks for an increment in pay and there are all these more-than-willing, emerging and freelancing models out there that are ready to work for comparatively very less amount. The clients generally goes for the ones willing to take the lesser amount for the job. What is molestation? Sexual abuse, also referred to as MOLESTATION, is abusive sexual behaviour by one person upon another. It is often perpetrated using force or by taking advantage of another. When force is immediate, of short duration, or infrequent, it is called sexual assault.The offender is referred to as a sexual abuser or molester. Molestation is an act wherein the abuser rapes the victims mind, body, dreams and emotions. Let us illustrate with a scenario; a person is holding a higher position for example:(boss/officer/mentor/senior, etc.) and asks for sexual favours from a person who is (a subordinate, common person, participant, newcomers in the industry). This kind of favours where the superior holds power and asks sexual favours from the subordinate to get their work done, or promising them to achieve a higher place, promotion is considered as RAPE and MOLESTATION. What about verbal molestation i.e. molestation by giving out various signs. Many people in day to day life do this but don’t understand the threat they create in the victim’s mind. Molesters tear up the victim’s soul and leaves them to shed tears of blood. Molestation is sexual misconduct that is performed, while without consent of the victim, it is called RAPE, and it must stop. What leads to molestation? Molestation, nowadays this has become a very common word as many of us are the victims of the same but most of us remain silent most of the times. Women and girls face lots of sexual and mental abuse at schools, colleges, workplaces, etc. In first place, the culprits observe the victims and check out at what level they can go for their benefits like growth in their career, education or any other field. Then these culprits start a conversation and get to know about their backgrounds, financial status, and their eagerness. After gaining all sort of information, they put the innocent women and girls who do hard work to achieve their dream in such a situation where the victim is either forced to pay huge amount of money or sexual intercourse. Due to their reasons, the victims unwilling have to agree with those monsters. Further, those men use this as an opportunity to exploit girls and women. What promotes the molesters? Most of the victims of molestation don’t raise their voice against it. There can be multiple reasons of it:-family issues, society pressure, financial needs, job security etc. Different industries facing it Molestation and Sexual Abuse can take on many faces. It can affect the very young as well as the very old, the wealthy and famous as well as the poor and common. A victim of sexual abuse often feels embarrassed and keeps the abuse a secret, sometimes for decades! Sexual abuse can range from non-physical abuse to actual intercourse. In any scenario, the victim is left dealing with extreme emotional trauma apart from physical damage which is caused in case of actual intercourse. Casting couch is the example where for success molestation occurs most and for the sake of their jobs, reputation and further growth in career where victims keep their mouths shut. #metoo campaign was a campaign through which many such cases came out mostly in very glamourous Bollywood and modelling industry. A young child or vulnerable adult can be victimized by predators who might take any of these different faces — a family member or friend, a coach, an employer or fellow worker, a teacher, a clergy member, other church-affiliated workers, even a doctor or dentist. When an employer protects predator, the employer may also become a defendant in the case. Mostly cases comes from higher authorities or heads who pressurises the victim and the victim is made to shut down her voice because of threats imposed to their careers, lifes, etc. Molestation is not limited to in-person sexual contact. It can occur over internet and social media as well in form cyber harrasment,trolling, cyberbullying and internet child pornography. Irrespective of the type of sexual abuse a victim suffers, sexual abuse survivors will often suffer life-lasting emotional damages that can impact their future relationships, education, and productivity. Ways to stop molestation practice The fashion industry is still waiting for its #metoo moment in its real sense. From the beginning,models have been facing these issues; girls in this industry have to stop forgiving terrible men just because they have more power and reach. India also needs a plan of action like SARA ZIFF, an American former model and founder of The Model Alliance, who has created THE RESPECT PROGRAM [a concerted plan of action for changing the culture of the industry to reflect the values of respect, professionalism and protecting models from abuse]. Every person who is aspiring to become a model should know about every loophole through which these molesters get away easily after playing their dirty tricks and should not let anyone use them in any way. Awareness is very important, proper and right guidance plays an important role in framing a great career and also saving many from being mistreated and getting molested in this industry. It is time to go through thoroughly, the work culture of the modelling industry and demand for immediate changes should be made actively. Various agencies, magazines, and brands all play an important role and must be held accountable. As they can and are influencing a lot of people. These institutions can also work on various issues like wage theft, scams, the pressure to use drugs on models, plastic surgery and over the board measures used for weight loose along with molestation. New and young models who don’t know much about the modelling industry should at least know basics about the industry in which they are aspiring to make their career and be successful, with that they will know how much and what is good and acceptable. If someone is comfortable doing something, it doesn’t mean that everyone will be. And that is must be remember in the first place. It is also important not to trust someone blindly. You can earn fame and get success with your hard work and talent only. There are no shortcuts to success whether it is modelling or any other industry. There are many wolves in sheep’s clothing. Be aware and take stand against those people. It is important to remember that no one can spoil your career or can blacklist you from any modelling practice in the industry now. All you need is to take a stand against such people with firm determination and mindset. To stop this shameful activity we need to unite and speak up about this with proofs so that these molesters can be caught, exposed to the public and would be punished and penalized for their misdeeds. The punishment and stand against these people will make them as well as other culprits to rethink once before molesting again. Conclusion From the starting until now, you have seen reality, basic knowledge about molestation and ways to stop it. One or the other filed has its advantages and disadvantages, but it should not destroy your physical or mental health and wealth. The world runs behind the success and when someone is much greedy they choose the wrong option as well. However, after reading and knowing, none should take the wrong path. Most of us desire to have money and fame but it is not more important than our inner and outer peace. So we hope you all will fight against wrong and stand tall against the bad.

[serena-waldorf]

Life Update

So...I don’t know if anybody even cares but for people out there who have been following along and would want an update or if anybody is going through something similar right now and this post helps them or could help somebody in the future, I have a little life update, Tumblr friends. And I’m still processing so apologies if this post is long and a little rambling. 

As most of you probably know, in mid July I started my first “real” job (not counting service industry jobs I had while I was in school and for a year and a bit after graduating) after graduating college in spring 2017 as an Administrative Assistant at a media production company that also had its own nonprofit organization, after being unemployed for about 10 months prior to starting that job this past July. I was hired for the media production side but since it was a small company/office, I did work for both the nonprofit and the company itself.  It was supposed to be a 3 month summer internship contract with the hope of extending the contract another few months or indefinitely if everything went well during the first 3 months which was also the standard 3 month probation period that is pretty standard with most or all jobs pretty much. 

While the first few weeks were going well, I think, unfortunately, I feel like things kind of started going downhill (for lack of a better term right now) about a month ago or so and I just started feeling really uneasy at work and doubting myself a lot. And I guess my supervisor agreed that things weren’t working out the way either of us had hoped when I was hired and last Wednesday, I was unfortunately let go. I won’t go into everything here about why and what happened but feel free to message me off anon and we can talk if you’re that curious but I don’t think anybody will be. But I don’t mind talking about it more in depth privately. 

And while I am still processing my feelings and trying to figure out what this means for me and my future, ultimately I’m fine. There is definitely a mixture of emotions, a mixture of kind of relief since I had a feeling this was coming anyways and excitement about what new possibilities this opened up but also of course, the inevitable sadness and disappointment and feelings of embarrassment and failure that come with these situations. As much as I wish I could crawl under the bed covers and hide from the world...I can’t lol and am feeling a lot better after continuing with my already planned weekend plans and seeing friends and watching some excellent movies that proved to be a good distraction. 

My supervisor really couldn’t have been kinder about the way she handled it or as kind and professional as you can be in that situation. Both of us were sad and disappointed that things didn’t work out the way either of us had hoped when I was hired and that this job and company wasn’t the right fit for me at this time. I’m definitely relieved she did things with kindness in a dignified way and that I am leaving on good terms and that there are no hard feelings between either of us. Honestly I had a feeling this was coming so even though she let me go, it was sort of a mutual decision and we were on the same page so I wasn’t completely blindsided or anything. It wasn’t as catastrophic as that moment in movies and television shows makes it seem and it wasn’t a bullshit D*nald T*ump “You’re fired!” kind of firing or anything. Our office didn’t have a conference/meeting room and there is no privacy since its a small office so she took me out for coffee to do it and we ended up having a good constructive conversation about my strengths and weaknesses, what both of us could have done differently, how she can maybe do things differently if she hired for my position again in the future etc. It wasn’t like a major mistake or misconduct or anything that got me fired, the position and company just wasn’t a good fit for me personally at the end of the day, at this point in time.

So yeah, even though Tuesday and Wednesday were rough and I’m still processing, figuring out where I go from here, worried about the future, about money etc. I’m mostly fine. This was probably for the best and better that it happened when I’d only been there about a month and a half. I’m taking it as a life lesson and can use what went wrong to help me figure out what I want/need in a future position and company or even industry now that I better know what my strengths and weaknesses are and what kind of work environment and conditions I would probably work better in/under in the future. 

I’m disappointed in myself that I’m back to being where I was a year ago, unemployed and back to job searching etc. but I’m mostly excited for the future actually since this means that hopefully I’ll be moving on to bigger and better opportunities in the future now that I have a little more experience outside of the service industry,  and hopefully I’ll have better luck with getting a job with more hours/better pay or a bigger company (even though its difficult to get a foot in the door at big companies). I’m even thinking about going back to school in 2020 maybe, I still have to look into my options which I will be doing over the next couple of weeks as well going into application time so I’ll keep everyone posted. 

It’s been a rough few days, and I’m definitely trying to not let the darkness seep in and am trying to stay optimistic. Everyone I’ve told so far has been nothing but supportive and helpful for the most part and I know I have a lot of other things in my life to be grateful for and that I’m not defined by my job!

 And Hillary's right...Chardonnay definitely helps a little 😂😂🍷

This post was long so hopefully I didn’t forget anything I wanted to say lol but I think I about covered everything. 

tl;dr: I started working as an Administrative Assistant at a media production company in July on a 3-month contract. Things didn’t work out and unfortunately I was let go this past Wednesday. But I know everything will be okay, the possibilities are endless and onto bigger and better things hopefully! Onward and upward!

❤️💋🔥💯

[thedevianthunterrk800]

Restrictions Apply (Captain Allen x Reader)

First of all, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE GRUMPY SWAT KING! 

Even when you’re pissed you’re so beautiful <3

Summary: You try to win over a certain SWAT captain on his birthday. Key word: try.

Tags: @stalericecake (CELEBRATION HELL YEAH) @connorshero @shorthawkes @heartsarecompatible @precursor-ao3

“I don’t care.”

His voice is dismissive and firm, and you’re a little peeved that he doesn’t even bother to look in your general direction but regardless, you press on.

“David,” you insist, just as stubborn but less composed. Eyebrows furrowed in obvious annoyance at your pestering, he finally lifts his head so you can clearly see the scowl on his face.

“There’s nothing to celebrate,” he states dryly and once again you have to remind yourself that you sort of love this asshole and no, you are not letting up.

“It’s your birthday.”

“And?”

“For fuck’s sake. Why can’t you let me do something nice for you for once?”

His lips twitch upwards as though he’s trying to stop himself from smiling. Sighing, he slumps forward, resting his elbows on the desk and rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if you want to do something nice for me, then maybe head back to your station and actually do some work, hmm?”

You only have so much patience.

With an irritated huff, you spin on your heel and march out of his office. If he wants to be a dick then fine. He can celebrate his birthday on his own.

It’s not like you care.

::

That’s a lie.

You care too much is the problem.

Captain Allen may be an asshole, sure, but with the job he has, he can’t afford to not be an asshole. A meek SWAT captain won’t really amount to much, and Allen is anything but meek.

Part of you wonders if you’re being too pushy, the last thing you want if you’re trying to woo the abrasive man. But if you back off, then he’ll once again spend his birthday alone like he has the past few years.

From what you understand, Allen has adopted a nihilistic mindset when it comes to birthdays; according to him, there’s no point celebrating them when he can very well die the next day, especially in his line of work. The thought of losing him causes you to shudder and leaves you twice as determined to finally make your move.

You don’t think you can go the rest of your life wondering what might have been, after all.

With that in mind, you square your shoulders and begin planning. There’s only half an hour left until you can go home, and you’ve pretty much finished all the work you need to for the day. You’ve already gathered the necessary information from some of the other SWAT operatives—Allen has a fondness for double chocolate cake, for one—and you’re certain that this birthday will be one to remember despite Allen’s insistence that it doesn’t matter.

He matters and you promise yourself to make that clear to him tomorrow.

::

Captain Allen is a practical man who only keeps the very essentials. Whereas most people’s offices are filled with small knick-knacks, Allen’s is almost completely devoid of any personal touch.

This makes figuring out what present to get him damn near impossible. What can you possibly gift a man who doesn’t already own everything that he needs?

Though you have no idea what to get him, you consider yourself pretty good friends with Allen. You’re on first-name basis with the man, which says an awful lot considering how professional he normally is. The two of you have also had some… interesting interactions every now and then at functions, but you blame that on the booze. Sober Allen has never approached you flirtingly, at any rate.

You’re really going out on a limb here. You can’t tell for certain if Allen is even interested in you in that way, but like you rationalized earlier, it’ll hurt more to leave these things unsaid.

If Allen rejects you, then that’s that. You’ll be embarrassed for a few days and the two of you will likely stop speaking to each other as often, but otherwise you’re not losing too much. Besides, you’re both perfectly grown adults; it’ll only be awkward if you make it so.

Alright, enough of that. You still don’t know what present to get him.

What do men like him even want?

Clothes? A fancy new pen? Expensive whiskey?

You have no fucking idea.

Vaguely, a tiny voice in your head suggests, you.

Maybe wear a lil’ somethin’-somethin’ underneath your uniform and surprise him in his office…?

Scoffing at that particular image, you mentally kick yourself.

Not only is that too fucking forward, he’s probably going to report you for misconduct the second you start stripping. No way in hell are you doing that.

Unless he’s into it, of course, but that’s not something you can tell since you don’t even know what he wants.

If you text him to ask, he’ll probably just tell you to fuck off and worry about yourself. You can’t be discreet either because there’s no way to subtly ask him about his interests the day before his damn birthday.

In all honesty, you blame yourself for not figuring out when his birthday is sooner.

Although, would knowing a few days beforehand truly help in this case?

Probably not.

::

The next morning, you arrive early to drop off some personalized birthday donuts that you called in the previous evening to have made. Since his office is locked, you leave the pink box in front of the door before heading back to Homicide. You don’t write a note mainly because you don’t want him coming after you quite yet, but a part of you fully expects him to figure it out anyway.

Donuts. Check.

You’ll pick up his birthday cake during your lunch break. You’ve already talked to the guys upstairs about singing to Allen, something they’re more than willing to do despite that risk of casualties involved.

As for his present…

Yes, alright, maybe a printed out gift voucher for one date with you may be a little cheesy. Most people usually give gift cards, and then there’s you, essentially offering Allen a coupon that he can only redeem from your sorry ass.

It’s just slightly embarrassing.

If anything, you should be relieved; it makes asking him out much easier because he can simply rip the voucher into pieces if he really hates the idea that much.

Will that be extremely humiliating?

Yeah, no shit.

But will it save you from having to actually hear him reject you?

Also yes.

In the midst of your daydreaming, you don’t notice the man of the hour approaching you until he kicks the bottom of your chair to get your attention. Eyes wide, you swivel in your seat and find him eyeing you suspiciously, a half-eaten donut in his hand.

“Was this you?” he asks impassively, and you hate how deadpan he sounds because it makes it all the more difficult to gauge his reaction. Feigning ignorance, you tilt your head slightly and blink at him.

“Was what me?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Captain, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You smile innocently at him but he doesn’t it buy it one bit.

He shakes his head. “Of course you don’t.”

“Did you like them though?”

“Sure. So did everyone else.”

You grin and hold out your palm expectantly. “Well, aren’t you going to share?”

Allen smirks at you this time and you subconsciously swallow at the sight. He could very well be the death of you, if you let him. “All out, I’m afraid. But I’m sure you have a few more surprises left for me, eh?”

With that, he winks—yes, fucking winks—at you before sauntering away, leaving you flushed and more breathless than you care to admit.

::

Truthfully, this probably would have gone a whole lot smoother if you simply handed him the cake and left.

Instead, you insisted that everybody in the SWAT department sing to him, and through the loud cacophony of “Happy Birthday”, you wince at the death-glare he throws your way.

He refuses to blow out the candles, leaving you to do it before the wax can melt onto the icing. To your chagrin, he orders you to put the cake in the break room and scowls when you ask if he wants a piece.

All in all, you can safely say that there’s no way he’ll do anything with the voucher other than set it on fire.

Humiliated, you abandon the cake in the break room as instructed and practically sprint back to your department, taking Allen’s present with you.

You hide in the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself before somberly returning to your desk. You’re still shaking from the whole thing, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It’s a miracle you haven’t run into anybody; otherwise, they’ll probably have you sent home for looking like such a mess.

That December 2nd, you find yourself staring miserably at the red envelope on your desk, containing both a birthday card for the SWAT captain and that stupid voucher you were foolish enough to think he may want.

Groaning, you bury your face in your arms. Embarrassing doesn’t even do it justice at this point. Mortifying is close, but still doesn’t quite capture how much you fucking hate yourself right now.

You’re suddenly very aware of someone hovering over you and you lift your head just in time to see a hand grab the accursed card.

Startled, you let out a distressed, “Hey! That’s mine—” before realizing that Allen is standing right behind you once again.

He opens the envelope with ease, pulling out the card and paying no mind to the horror in your eyes as you watch him. “Actually, it’s mine.”

“You won’t even want what’s in there.”

Desperately, you try to yank the card from his grip but he’s quick and sidesteps you easily. He begins to walk away, probably to read the card in peace and away from your grabby hands, and you have no choice but to watch helplessly as he suddenly halts. You can see him remove the voucher from the card and turn it sideways to read the print, and hot-faced, you immediately drop back to your seat and face your desk.

You don’t think you can bear to see him laughing at your expense, no matter how prepared for rejection you insist you are.

It feels like minutes, though it’s only seconds, before he finally returns to you.

Pained, you rub your forehead, refusing to look at him. “Just leave it here and I’ll throw it away.”

He snorts. “Why, did it expire already?”

You don’t even know what to say at this point. There’s only so many blows your self-esteem can take. At your silence, Allen waves the voucher in front of your face.

“I want to cash this in today.”

If you hadn’t heard the words yourself, you probably would have assumed you were merely hallucinating from all the blood currently rushing to your face. Instead, you slowly turn to look at the man smirking down at you, your mind reeling.

“What?”

“After work.”

“Are… are you serious?”

For a split second, you see a flicker of worry flash in his eyes before he regains his composure and shrugs. “If you are.”

You gawk at him, mouth opening and closing like an alarmed fish. When Allen raises an eyebrow at you in question, you snap back to your senses and nod your head furiously.

“R-Right. Okay. I’ll, uh, see you after work?”

He smiles then, a genuine, pleased smile that you’ve never seen grace his face before. You fall harder, which you didn’t even think was humanly possible. “Sounds good.”

With a final grin, Captain Allen starts to walk off. However, he’s barely taken three steps when he feels a tug on his arm. Confused, he turns around, and you take this opportunity to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Dave,” you whisper in his ear. You pull away and almost laugh at the shocked expression on his bright-red face as he stares at you with something that one day, you’ll recognize as love.

[carolightpenvenys]

DEADLY NIGHTSHADE- a Penvenys AU

in which dwight is the medical examiner in the morgue and caroline is the new detective, ready to solve some murders 

trigger warning: murder and mention of sexual assault (only in this chapter)

CHAPTER 1: it’s always the spouse

Dwight had received a new body this morning- it was always unfortunate when he had to perform an autopsy because it was pretty much always a murder.

He sighed, filling in the paperwork for the deceased, a Miss Morwenna Chynoweth. She was very young and Dwight felt a keen sigh of relief that he was not acquainted with any of her friends and relatives.

Staring at the clock, he realized that he was due a visit from the homicide detective at any moment, so decided to cover the body as best he could, for further investigation later. He stared again, willing it to be lunchtime but it was in fact, only ten past nine.

“I mean, if you stop staring, it’ll be five o'clock in no time.” He heard a distinctly feminine voice and laugh behind him and it honestly shocked him.

“Oh hello.” Dwight said, trying to compose himself as he turned around. Was very difficult. She was an intensely beautiful woman in an intensely professional pantsuit. “Where’s detective Poldark? He normally does this kind of thing.”

“Am I not good enough?” The strange and beautiful woman lifted her eyebrows in a teasing manner. “I’m just kidding, he has a kind of personal involvement in this case which prohibits him from investigating.” This made Dwight’s heart flop a little- Ross and himself often solved crimes together and even shared a takeaway after. One could even call them good friends.

She held out her own ID for him to see, “I’m Detective Caroline Penvenen and I can assure you I’m just as valid with more solves than any other.”

Dwight realized then he’d been staring blankly but also had resting sad face. “Oh of course, would you like a cup of tea?- I am Doctor Dwight Enys.”

“Oh my god.” Caroline put her hand on her forehead. “That sounds like possibly the best thing ever right now.”

Dwight walked over to the kettle and decide it was better to make conversation than to sit in an awkward silence with frankly, one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

Obviously objective, he was professional.

“So have you been working here long? I’ve met most of the homicide detectives but truly I’ve never come accross you.”

“No, this is actually my first case here.” Caroline smiled as she pinned her hair back with pins and bands to make the perfect low bun in under 30 seconds. “But I’m confident it’s an open and shut case. It’s always the spouse.”

“Do you think?” Dwight found this an intriguing debate. “I mean it’s a stereotype but I’ve never really looked at murders like that before, I normally start every patient as a blank slate.” He stirred the teas nervously, trying to tactically throw the bags in the bin with minimal staining on his white coat.

“No trust me,” Caroline ate a custard cream from her bag. “It’s literally a police ground rule- plus after you see the pathetic arsehole that is this woman’s spouse, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Oh no.” Dwight bought the mugs over, putting them down on carefully painted coasters he bought from home. “I hate arsehole spouses, give me the file.”

“Oh my Lord.” Caroline sighed. “Dwight what the fuck is this.”

Dwight looked up for a split second. “What the fuck is what?”

“This tea!” Caroline cried. “I know I’m southern but this is miserable honestly.”

Dwight looked down at the milky watery concoction he made for himself. “This is how I like it.” He justified.

“It seems we have another murder. The victim being this poor tea bag.”

“Very funny.” Dwight chuckled at her teasing, taking a sip. “Oh man this guy sounds sleazy as hell.”

“Doesn’t he? He’s been accused of sexual misconduct twice that has mysteriously gone away, he preaches utter garbage-“

“Freedom of religious expression.”

“Subjectively garbage about politics and women.”

“But could be murder?” Dwight tapped the page with his biro. “Make no mistake, Miss Chynoweth was poisoned, I suspect with a plant that I’m waiting for test results on. Do you think he has the will, or dare I say intelligence for pre med murder?”

“A good point.” Caroline nodded shrewdly. “But look at this, just a month ago, he tried to have her committed to an institution. What does this mean?”

“That he has little regard for the mental health of women.”

Caroline put her hand up for a hi-five. “Woke.” He hi fived her back and decided to ignore the electric pull he felt to linger.

“Dare I say it Dr Enys.” Caroline sighed. “I think we are going to have to pay the Reverend Osborne Whitworth a visit.”

POLICE INTERVIEW WITH SUSPECT:

REVEREND OSBORNE WHITWORTH (SUSPECT): OW

DET. CAROLINE PENVENEN: CP

DR DWIGHT ENYS (M.E): DE

CP: Reverend, where were you around midnight last night, the twenty third of February?

OW: (the suspect is crying, but it looks fake). I was in bed asleep! Little did I know that-

CP: Can anyone confirm your whereabouts at this time?

OW: (scoffs) only my mother and around half a dozen house staff. We live in stately home you see, maybe you’ve heard-

DE: Have you ever seen the Atropa Belladonna plant, sir?

OW: One of the most beautiful plants- such mystery, such charm but dead to the touch, much like my wife.

DE: Tests we ran confirm it to be the murder weapon.

CP: What do you mean, much like your wife?

OW: (the suspect has regained his composure) Well- hmph- well. I’d rather not discuss this, it’s a private matter.

CP: I’m afraid we have to ask you, it’s our duty.

OW: Just to remind you, I’m not under oath.

CP: I’m aware of the law.

DE: Detective Penvenen asked what you meant about your wife?

OW: You see, Morwenna tempted me, I was promised a fruitful marriage where she would… fulfill her conjugal duty. But whenever I came near her it was like I was poisonous. The most odious thing she’d ever seen.

CP: So you had a sexless marriage?

OW: (the suspect is embarrassed) No.

DE: This is a difficult question to ask, but did you ever sexually assault your wife?

OW: No! How dare you even think this! All my accusations against other lying women have been disproved.

DE: I did not mean to jump to conclusions, I just need to know this when I check over her body later.

CP: It was a scientific question, Reverend.

OW: I don’t even know why you’re holding me here! I demand the presence of my lawyer. You can’t hold me for anything I have an alibi and witnesses. I’m leaving.

CP: I’m not stopping you. Just don’t leave town.

END OF INTERVIEW

“What a fucking slimy bastard.” Caroline complained loudly, once she turned the tape off.

“Honestly though.” Dwight looked uneasy. “I want to lock him away for years and years but I don’t think we have found our murderer just yet.”