(( and that barbs will be donna ))

2

I Can’t Wait to Hear You Scream PT. 11

Summary: Revenge

Warning: Still more fucking cursing, and lots of violence.

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“Do you know what I’ve done? What I would do again if given the chance - to you? What I enjoy doing? I can’t stop. It’s what I am.” - Donna Galanti

-

“Go ahead, babydoll.” Negan said in a serious tone as his outstretched hand was waiting for you to take Lucille.
You were confused, not knowing if this was one of his tests or if he really wanted you to do this.
You reached out cautiously and grabbed onto Lucille’s handle, Negan’s fingers brushing against yours as he handed her over.
A chill ran up your spine as you held her in your hands. She had a rather heavy weight to her, due to the amount of barbed wire wrapped around her blunt end.

The people in the crowd looked around anxiously, looking back and forth between you and Negan as if there was an intense tennis match going on.
You looked up to Negan to see a smile on his face and the pride in his eyes as he watched you gripping onto Lucille.
He saw the look of confusion you had on your face and leaned down to you, placing a hand onto your shoulder, “Fuck these people, babydoll. You take as much time as you need and you get your fuckin’ revenge..” He looked around, then back to you, “Now, go fucking get her, babydoll.” He whispered into your ear, his beard brushing against your cheek as he leaned back up.

“Everybody, feast your eyes on how goddamn badass my fuckin’ girl is.” Negan laughed, moving to the side to let you step in front of Amber.
She looked up at you with her face full of fear and anger.

“Go ahead, bitch, do it.” She growled, looking up at you.

You swallowed hard and had a firm grasp on Lucille, you had to admit that there was a certain amount of power behind standing in front of someone, holding her in your hands.
You wanted your revenge on Amber, but you also wanted it to be earned.
You walked over to Negan and held Lucille out to him, he took it and eyed you suspiciously, “What the fuck, babydoll?”

“You’ll see.” You said calmy, making your way back over to Amber.

She looked back up at you in shock, curling her lip.

“Get up, Amber. Get up and fuckin’ fight me before I kill you.” You growled, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt. There was still pain in your side and your eye still hurt like hell, but you were ready.
After all the shit she put you through and finding out that she was going to try and fuck over Negan, you wanted to get your hands on her before Lucille finished her off.

Negan whistled and swung Lucille over his shoulder, “And just when I fuckin’ thought she couldn’t get more badass, folks! She’s been stabbed and laying in a hospital bed and her she is up and ready for a goddamn fight!” Negan yelled proudly, kicking up some dirt with his foot.

Amber stood on her feet in front of you and no time was wasted, you both lunged for each other, you went for her neck and she grabbed at your hair with one hand and the other on your neck.
You winced as she made contact with your neck because it was already bruised and sore from where she had choked you.
You both fell to the ground in a tangled mess, but being sure to shield your head from any blows she tried to make to your already bruised face.
You kicked at her midsection, your knee landing into her ribs atleast 3 times and you could hear her gasp each time your knee connected with her ribs.
She tried to get up, but you kicked her leg from under her as all her weight came crashing to the ground, her hand still tangled into your hair. You punched her in the face hard enough to bust her bottom lip and blood began streaming down her face and onto you. “Goddamn bitch!” She yelled, yanking you by your hair and smacking you in the face.
Your eye was already on fire from the pain and it enraged you even more; you screamed, throwing her off of you.
Amber managed to rip out some hair that she was hanging onto as she fell back into the dirt again, you quickly straddled her, placing your hands on her neck squeezing with all power and watching her cough and choke. You switched it up and punched her in the face even harder, this time knocking out one of her teeth. You could hear the cheers from Negan as you were oveepowering her.
You punched her again and again, until she stopped struggling under you.
She wasn’t dead yet, but she was in too much pain to try and fight you anymore.

You stood up with your adrenaline still coursing through you, stronger than ever and you walked over to Negan.
His eyes were widened with shock and he smirked at you, and he held Lucille out to you. You grabbed the bat, looking up to him with hate in your eyes.

“You fuckin’ earned that shit, darlin’.” Negan praised, giving you a toothy smile.

You walked back over to Amber and took a hand and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, pulling her up onto her knees.
She was breathing hard and still cursing you under her breathe.
You stood firmly in front of her and raised Lucille above your head, only stopping to Glace over at Negan and he had his arms crossed, giving you a wink.

You brought Lucille down forecully on Amber’s skull, hearing the horrific CRACK as her skull split open.
You felt the spray as her blood as it landed across your face and onto your already bloody clothes. Negan wasn’t kidding when told you to keep the bloody ones on. You brought Lucille above your head again and bringing her down for another loud CRACK.
The people in the crowd were all gasping and had the usual look of fear in their eyes when they watched Lucille do her handywork.
More blood splattered onto you.
Another CRACK.

You could see the blood pooling around Amber now. Her skull was caved in and she really was unrecognizable.
You let out a deep breathe and everything was completely silent, the only thing you could hear was your own breathing and Negan chuckling.

“Oh my goodness!” He called out to everyone while walking back over to you, “Look at this!” He leaned back, “You guys, look at my dirty girl!” He smiled, wrapping an arm around you.
You gave him a smile back and handed Lucille back to him, caked in blood and flesh.

He took her from you and began pacing back and forth again.
“Do we all get the fuckin’ picture now?” He looked around, his face going back serious, he held Lucille’s bloody end out to give everyone a good look at it.
“You fuck with the rules and-” Negan made a clicking sound with his tongue, “And if any of you fuck with her again, it’s the same thing.” He said pointing to you, “Now all of you get the fuck back to work or you’re gonna be in the same fucking predicament.” He said in a stern tone and all of the crowd began to slowly walk away back to where they were supposed to go.

You stood there, still covered in blood as Negan turned back to you, “Goddamn darlin’, that was fuckin’ something. Seeing you and Lucille together, pretty goddamn hot.” He smiled back to you, shaking his head.

You smirked and wiped some blood off of your face, “I’m just glad I don’t have to worry about the bitch anymore.”

Negan put out a hand and wiped some blood off of you as well, “Yeah well, it’s still not fuckin’ over yet. Randy is gonna get what’s fucking coming to him, too.”

“Yeah, I have no doubt about that.” You spoke, eyeing Amber’s body.

Negan turned to look as well and threw a hand up, whistling, “Dwight!”

Dwight quickly made his way over, looking down at all the blood on the ground and then to Negan.
“Dwight, you and Simon clean this shit up and feed what’s left to the walkers.”

“Yeah, boss” Dwight said.

Negan turned back to you and you looked up at him.
You didn’t know what to say, it’s not that you felt bad, but you had never killed somebody in such a violent way before, even if they deserved it.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said in a calm tone.

Negan nodded back, “Go ahead, darlin’. You’ve fucking earned it, that’s for sure.”

After a few minutes you went back upstairs to your room and got into the shower, you let the water run over you and trying your best to keep your stitches dry. You thought about everything that had happened. You were glad it was over, but you wanted Randy to be found too, if he had fled who knew who he was getting together with and if he was to come back and try to take over the sanctuary. You started getting mad again, at this point it was no secret as to how you felt about Negan and the thought of someone trying to fuck with him angered you, thats why you weren’t easy on Amber. It was more for him than it was for you.

You got out of the shower, dried off, putting on some clean clothes and laid down in your bed.
The sun was starting to set on another day at the sanctuary.
You laid in bed for a while and did some reading out of a few books that were on the dusty shelves in the room.
You were beginning to read an old copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’ when your door opened.
You looked up to see Negan walking in and he sat down on the bed. You leaned up and exchanged glances between the two of you.

“How are you doing, babydoll?” He asked, setting Lucille on the floor.

“I’m good.” You said in a low tone, your eyes focused on his.

He smirked and lowered his head, then looking back to you, “Okay, we’ve got that lie out of the fuckin’ way, now how about the fuckin’ truth?”

You nodding, he knew something was up.
“Look, I’m not a softy by any means but killing someone like that-”

“It was your first time - well, first time for killing like that anyway.” He chuckled and licked his lips.

You smiled back, “Yeah, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.”

“You don’t have to feel any kind of fuckin’ way about it, babydoll. She crossed a damn line and you gave her a fair fuckin’ fight, that’s more than she fuckin’ gave tou, because to be quite goddamn honest, I wouldn’t have done that. Either way, that shit was gonna happen, but I wanted to give you your chance for some good old fashioned fuckin’ revenge.”

You took in a breathe, “You’re right. She damn sure wouldn’t have done the same for me.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“It gets fuckin’ easier. This world is different than that fuckin’ one that used to be, darlin’ and you are gonna have to get used to it.” He said, cutting his eyes to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You answered back.

“So, now a more pressing matter - and I’m not good with emotional shit, makes me feel fuckin’ icky. But will you stop with the bullshit and be a wife again now?” He leaned his head back and turned to look at you.

You smirked and nodded your head, “Yes, alright? I will. Because I know you’re not gonna stop asking.”

He smiled back, “Good, we’re finally back on the same damn page for once.”

“Well, it’s like I said, it wasn’t that I didn’t wanna be a wife.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, darlin’. Now, what are you doing tonight?” He smirked.

You looked at him in confusion, “Uhh, I’m gonna be here?”

Negan shook his head, “Nah, darlin’, fuck that. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Am I gonna come back alive, or..?” You laughed nervously, furrowing your eyebrows.

Negan let out a grunt and rolled his eyes, “Look, do I have to fuckin’ spell it out? I’m not good with this sappy shit, like I just said. Do you wanna come up to my room?”

You bit your lip and looked down, “Negan, I’m really not in the best shape for sex riggt now.”

“Well darlin’, I appreciate you fuckin’ thinking of that and God knows I’d love to fuck you right now -especially after today - but that’s not my point.” He said, picking up Lucille and walking over to the door to lean against it.

“I thought you didn’t want any company?” You asked, giving him a playful smile.

He licked his lips and crossed his arms, “Things change. And maybe I feel like some fuckin’ companionship tonight.”

“Alright.” You said and got up, following him out as you both made your way up to his room.

You weren’t sure what had made him want you to stay the night with him, maybe it was because he didnt want to admit it had scared him that you were almost killed, or maybe it was because you told him about what Amber and Randy had planned to do and this was his way of thanking you.
You didn’t know, but it didn’t matter to you.
You were just happy to finally get a chance to get closer to him.

You made it up to his room, it still looked the same as last time. He sat Lucille down on the desk and took his leather jacket and threw it onto a coat rack next to the door. You both sat onto his bed, looking at eachother.

“So, what’s with the change of heart? I’m too curious not to know why.” You asked looking up at him.

He looked back to you and leaned back onto the bed, propping his feet up, “You know what they say about curiosity and the cat, sweetheart.. And you are one fine pussy.”

You licked your lips, “I’m willing to take the risk. Why?”

He let out a annoyed groan and leaned back up and looked at you, “Well, you did almost just fuckin’ die and believe it or fuckin’ not, darlin’, maybe something finally fucking scared me for once, because maybe, I’m a little bit too fuckin’ sweet on you.”

You looked at him quizzically, “So, you’re saying…?”

He huffed, “I’m not saying anything. All I’m saying is, maybe I like you a little bit more than the other wives. I guess the fuckin’ word ‘favorite’ might come into play.”

A big smile started to spread across your face and you bit your lip, without trying to get too much into his feelings, tgis was Negan’s way of admitting that he liked you and he liked you more than the other wives, something you had been waiting for, for a long time now, but it took the process of Amber almost killing you and you actually killing Amber for him to admit it.

“I’ll take that.” You said with a smile.

Negan rolled his eyes playfully, “Don’t go getting all damn mushy on me, (Y/N).”
He said and quickly grabbed your neck, even though it hurt, you didn’t care.

He pulled you in and kissed you hard on your lips, his beard scratching your face and his tongue slide into your mouth. God, you had fucking missed that feeling.

Okay, kids...

I’m fully aware that we have much bigger and much more important, pressing things to think about as we face such turmoil all over the world…but I’m feeling I need a small bit of fun and distraction and I beg your indulgence. I call this post

THINGS I NEED TO SEE HAPPEN BEFORE MOFFAT AND 12 LEAVE US: 

(and brace yourself, loves, because there’s gonna be a lot of River-centric requests in here…)

Originally posted by doctorwhogeneration



Keep reading

12 DAYS OF SHIPMAS - DAY SIX (MARVEY)

In case you missed the original post, here’s what’s going on.  

And here are all the other stories so far!

I’ll be honest, I’ve been extremely sick the last 24 hours, so I’m quite amazed I was able to get this written and up on time - I blame Mike and Harvey for their indestructible sexual tension.  YES!  Today is Suits day, and I couldn’t be happier.  There isn’t a show on TV without a more obvious couple on (except maybe Supernatural) and I was thrilled to finally have a chance to write these two.  

2K words, no smut.  Picture set by me, though I don’t own the images.  Tagging @ourloveislegendrarry, as well as my favourite Marvey blogs @fionafusuits @fuckyeahmarvey and @harvey-bangs-mike 

***

Six Geese a-Laying

   “You wanted to see me?” Mike asked at the threshold of the dimly lit office.  New York twinkled beyond the floor to ceiling windows that Harvey was currently gazing out of, customary tumbler of whiskey in hand.  Even relaxed and in contemplation he radiated assuredness, and Mike felt his insides squeeze a fraction in awe.  

  He turned and gave a tight-lipped smile to Mike.  “Sure kid, come on in,” he said.  Despite the fact he was pretty sure they were the only ones left on the floor so late at night, Mike closed the door after he stepped inside.  Any excuse to be alone.

 He was always extremely careful when they were in the office never to cross the professional line that they had spent so many years treading.  All that had finally changed, thankfully, when several months ago Mike hadn’t been able to take torturing himself anymore, and had thrown himself at his boss after a heated, drunken argument about their usual pointless bullshit.  He had been pretty certain he was going to get himself fired, but he’d not cared. It was worth it to find out what Harvey tasted like, if only briefly and never again.  

  To his astonishment something had broken in Harvey, as he fisted his hand through Mike’s hair and grabbed the back of his shirt, hauling him in closer and kissing him a like drowning man gasping for air.  Mike had kept telling himself not to be too disappointed, not to read too much into it or get attached, that as Harvey had pulled him into his hotel room that it was going to be a one-time thing and he would be grateful for having it as opposed to the nothing he had ever expected.

  But here they were, almost at the end of the year, and Harvey was still pulling him into his bed.  Pulling him into his life.  

  “Is this about the case for Jessica?” Mike asked, still standing as he waited for an indication from Harvey.  “Because I haven’t had a chance to look at the files yet.”

  After a moment of hesitation, Harvey turned and licked his lips, looking at Mike through his eyelashes.  “Actually,” he said, a hint of reservation in his voice that made Mike nervous.  “I wanted to give you your Christmas present.”

  Several emotions shot through Mike’s chest as he struggled to keep his face neutral. Shock, and then absurd happiness that they were crossing their self-imposed line by discussing something so personal at work.  Fear as to why they were doing it at work. And then finally, shame and panic. “But,” Mike blurted out stupidly. “I thought – I haven’t got your present yet,” he admitted.  He thought he had more time.

  Harvey though smiled at him warmly, and waved his glass at the plush chairs where a wrapped box stood on the coffee table.  “I forgive you,” he said with a smirk.  “Now sit down and open your present.”

  Mike swallowed, unsure, but slid down into the leather seat.  “I could wait?” he said, almost afraid to touch it as Harvey sat opposite him.  “I feel bad.”

  But Harvey bit his lip and leaned forward, the ice rattling in his glass between his knees.  “Don’t feel bad kid,” he said genuinely.  “You know part of the fun for me is getting one up on you.”  He winked, and Mike relaxed a little.  

  “That is true, you old bastard,” he teased, scooting the box over to him and reading the tag.  

  Harvey scoffed.  “Okay,” he said, amused and shaking his head.  “Don’t push your luck.”

  The note simply said “Merry Christmas” on it; nothing more personal or incriminating, such as their names.  But the fact they were doing this at their place of work made up for that, Mike felt.  Like Harvey was defying the firm by doing this out in the open.  There were pretty strict rules about partners sleeping with associates, and it could get them both fired.  But Harvey Specter was never really one for rules.

  “I take it Donna wrapped this,” Mike said, deliberately pushing his luck as he inspected the silver wrapping with purple ribbon.  It was either that or admit how hard his heart was banging in his chest.  

  It had never just been sex between them, not since that first night, or even since they first met.  Mike cared deeply about Harvey, he admired and coveted him and his approval.  But it had not gone unnoticed how Harvey had held Mike after their first time together, how his fingers found any excuse to linger on his skin – even the way he would gruffly fling coffee and the morning paper at him like a he was a nuisance was him showing his particular brand of possessive affection, and Miked loved it all the more.

  He loved Harvey, he knew he did.  But it was much easier to tease and rile him rather than say the words out loud.

  But this ceremonious present giving was making him nervous that they were about to cross another line, personally speaking, and he was ashamed to admit he was afraid.

  It was always a case of taking what he could get from Harvey, and appreciating that it could all be ripped away from him at any given moment.  Harvey was always the one in charge, and if he realised how stupid they were being Mike couldn’t’ blame him for putting an end to it.  So he always held back, just a little, not willing to give himself over fully so he would have something left of himself when it would all inevitably come crashing down.  It was a sort of self-preservation, he guessed.

  But moments like this, where Harvey caught him off guard, always brought his defences up. In case this was the moment of no return, in case this was finally the time he would finally shatter Mike’s heart into a thousand pieces.  

  Harvey took Mike’s barb about Donna wrapping his present with an arched eyebrow.  “What, you think I couldn’t possibly do a good job wrapping a gift?” he quipped.  Mike held the present as if it were fragile, unable to look up at Harvey.

  “No,” he said honestly.  “I just don’t think you’d deign to do something so lowly yourself.”

  “Would you just shut up and open it,” Harvey groused, taking a sip of his drink as Mike laughed, nervously.  So he did, sliding his fingers along the creases and ripping the paper noisily in the quietness of the office.  Inside was…another box.

  “Gee,” Mike said sardonically as he pulled the second smaller box out, wrapped again in silver.  “Just what I always wanted.”

  “Okay,” said Harvey in defeat.  “This may have been Donna’s idea, so you can give her a hard time about it later. Just…keep going.”

  After a moment of paused intrigue, Mike looked back from Harvey and tore into the fresh paper, lifting the lid and unsurprisingly finding another wrapped box. This went on for two more layers, with Harvey looking on in amusement as Mike got more and more flustered, before finally he reached a small, unwrapped box that he knew instinctively was the real present.

  He paused, turning it over in his fingers.  “Go on kid,” Harvey urged.  That was the third time he’d called him kid since he’d arrived.  He was nervous.  

  It was this that gave Mike the courage to open the last box.  He wanted to alleviate Harvey’s worries, even if he himself was practically shaking in apprehension.  But he was surprised to see that all that lay inside the box was a simple key, and he fished it out to frown down at it.  “It’s a key?” he said, aware of how dumb he sounded.

  “Nothing gets past you, does it?” replied Harvey, and Mike looked up finally to see how tense he was.  What kind of key could make Harvey Specter tense?

  And then it hit him.  His eyes snapped back down, and he almost didn’t dare breath.  It couldn’t be, could it?  “What’s it a key for?” Mike asked, striving to keep his voice even.  

  “What do you think?” Harvey replied.  Of course he was going to make him say it.  There was no going back from this if he was wrong.  

  He licked his lips and took a steadying breath.  “It’s…a key to your place?” he said, unable to keep the question from framing his words.  

  Harvey just gave him a single nod, and hope and exhilaration exploded through Mike’s chest like the God-damn Fourth of July.  “We talked about you spending Christmas at mine,” Harvey explained.  “And I figured this would be easier than me having to babysit you.”

  A key to Harvey’s flat – he was being intrusted with Harvey’s home.  Mike felt a lump rise in his throat, and he coughed it away.  “Thank you,” he stammered.  “I uh, that’s great.”

  “But?”

  Mike looked up sheepishly.  He could never fool Harvey.  “But why now? Why not when I come over on Christmas Eve, and have your present to give you back?”

  Harvey chuckled affectionately.  “What’s the obsession with giving presents at the same time?” he asked.

  Mike rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to let his emotions creep out.  “Because you always give me so much,” he said. “I wanted a chance to give you something back.”

  He risked looking over at Harvey, who put his drink down and laced his fingers together between his knees.  “Well, lucky for you,” he said measuredly.  “That is my present from you.”

  “How?” Mike breathed, not daring to let himself hope.  But Harvey’s eyes were wide with vulnerable sincerity, and he couldn’t help himself.  “How is this my present to you?”

  Harvey didn’t blink.  He just held Mike’s gaze for what seemed like forever.  “It is…if you wanted to move your stuff in in time for the holidays?”

  Mike’s vision went entirely white as he took the split-second to process what Harvey had said.  When it returned, he dropped his gaze back to the innocuous looking key held precariously between his fingers.  “You want me to move in with you?” he whispered around the solid lump in his throat, unable to stop the wetness collecting behind his eyes.  

  “Yes,” said Harvey firmly and simply.  “I want you to be home for Christmas.”

  Home. Home.  He wanted Mike to share his home.  He wanted it to be their bed and their coffee cups and a million other stupid things that would be theirs.  He wanted Mike to come home.

  Without a word, Mike stood and walked around the table, not stumbling but with purpose as he reached Harvey and folded into his lap, glass door be damned.  He buried his face into Harvey’s neck and shivered as strong fingers ran up his back, as lips pressed against his hair.  “Is this what you really want?” he mumbled, and in response Harvey pulled him in tighter.

  “Yes,” he said determinedly.  “I want you in my life.  I want you to be there every morning when I wake up, I want your God-damn bike in my lobby and your toothbrush and ties next to mine.  But,” he said, inhaling deeply as Mike shifted in his lap to look at him. “Only if that’s what you want?”

  “Yes,” Mike replied immediately, before hungrily kissing his lips several times.  “Yes, please, that’s what I want.”

  Harvey let himself be kissed, his fingers carding through Mike’s hair as he leaned even further into him.  He had been so terrified of falling all the way for Harvey, he hadn’t once let himself consider how good it might feel.  It was freeing and wondrous, and he hoped it would never end.  

  After a time, Harvey pulled back and ran his hand along the side of Mike’s tearful face. He wasn’t even embarrassed, for once he wanted to be completely honest about what Harvey meant to him.  “What do you say kid?” he asked, prising Mike’s fingers open from where they had clamped so hard over the key they had left a red imprint.  “How about we go home?”

  Mike nodded, his hand entwining with Harvey’s the key pressed between them.  “I think that sounds perfect.”

 End

When the Dead Come Knocking #2

Summary: It’s been over a year since the outbreak and the world has gone to shit. Mary, Dean, Sam, Donna, Jody, and Letty have survived this long thanks, in part, to the safety of the Men of Letters bunker. And then, on a routine trip into Lebanon, everything changes.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Donna Hanscum, Jody Mills, Violet / Letty [OFC], Negan, & Simon
Word Count: 1,422
Warnings: Language, fluff & suspense
Author’s Note:
Co-written with @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Idea for this fic came from THIS fan art. Takes place during season 10. None of this is canon, it’s an AU / Crossover. GIF Credit [xMaster List Tumblr is dumb and won’t let me tag everyone, so I’m sorry if you’ve asked to be tagged and it isn’t working.

<— PREVIOUS

“Just kill me,” the man gasped. “He’ll kill me anyway.”

“What?” Dean mumbled, really only half listening. Too many things had gone wrong today and it was making him feel like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He wanted to get back to the bunker, the sooner, the better.

“Who’ll kill you?” Mary kneeled beside the injured man, her hand on his shoulder.

“N…n…Negan,” he moaned.

“That name again.” Sam crouched beside his mother. “Who the hell is this guy?”

The guy on the ground laughed, the sound tapering off into a moan of pain. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. He’s coming. Negan is coming.”


Originally posted by weeklyspn

“Who the hell is Negan?” Jody demanded, her eyes on Dean as he stalked around the armory, gathering weapons and ammunition. Donna stood to the side, patiently taking whatever Dean handed her and shoving it into the huge green duffel.

“We don’t know,” he was shaking his head, his concentration split between Jody’s question and whatever it was he was doing. He’d felt like he was racing headlong into a dark, black tunnel with no idea what was on the other side ever since they’d gotten back to the bunker. The only thing on his mind had been figuring out ways to protect the people he loved. “But I’m pretty sure he’s bad news.”

Jody had never been one to argue with Dean’s instincts, especially since the shit had hit the fan. If he thought this Negan guy was no good, than so did she.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Keep reading

Le verità sopra i trenta 84#

La barba per l'uomo è come il trucco per la donna.
Più che a valorizzare, serve a coprire i difetti.
Il problema è che un viso struccato lo vedi la mattina dopo. Un viso da sbarbato impaurito della vita invece solo quando è già troppo tardi per bloccare bestemmie e maledizioni.

(09.01 spoilers) LISTEN UP!

The last scene doesn’t only mean that the doctor hasn’t to deal with the daleks anymore, it means gallifrey was never attacked.
It means the doctor never run away. 
It means Rose is still working as a shop assistant in London.
It means Martha is still a doctor.
It means Donna never won in the lottery.
It means River Song isn’t the doctor’s wife. 
It means Clara never fell into the time vortex. 
This will change anything. 
Ian, Barb, Polly, Jamie, Joe, Sarah-Jane, Sullivan, K9, Leela, Adric, Nyssa, Tegan, Nisslan, Peri too, Ace, Amazing Grace, Jack, Mickey, Wilfred, Rose, Martha, Donna, River, Amy, Rory, Clara… they all never expierienced somethign with the doctor.
Their experiences made them stronger.
Better. 
There’ll be a little girl with a wide crack in the wall. 
There’ll be a possible girl. 

Either this season will be the greatest or the most terrible. 

I beg it’s firstly.

Fuck you, Moffat (and at the same time many kisses xoxo)

7

Silence in the Library / Forest of the Dead - Behind the Scenes

Steven Moffat - I expanded this a bit <scene toward the beginning of the episode with the Doctor and Donna talking in the library>, which set off David on some whole thing about the sonic screwdriver

David Tennant - Oh yeah… <giggles>

Steven Moffat - I get a message saying, “David is worried about whether or not the sonic screwdriver could do that”

Julie Gardner - …and you were like “shut up, they’re extra pages!”

Moffat - You think, “He’s working hard, the boy” isn’t he?  I mean it could mend barbed wire and light candles…  It’s a bit late to object..

Tennant - Well we changed it, didn’t we?  Because at one point the idea was I stick the sonic screwdriver up in the air and it took a sound reading of the whole planet!  I just queried if we were stretching it…

Moffat - Setting four million two hundred and seventy eight.  Ka-chunk - canonical!  That’s the power.

Tennant - <laughs> Yeah!  Oh look at him, wielding it.  Look!

Moffat - …he means wielding the *power*, listener.

Gardner - David, two things.  One, we’re in the presence of a dictator.

Tennant - A dictator who has not had a good day at the keyboard so he’s a bit punchy as well…

Moffat - <much laughter>


      - from the Silence in the Library DVD commentary track

All of my previous behind-the-scenes photoset posts can be found here.

Arrow Fic: You Can Dance In a Hurricane (But Only If You’re Standing In the Eye)

Almost post-4x22 Olicity. In which Damien Darhk does not show up at the loft so we can get some more of those “Thanks for not being dead” feels.

A/N: Shout out to Treasure Mathstorm & nothing against accountants. This is an author’s note that will make sense at the end of the story.

Title from “The Eye” by Brandi Carlile. Guys, this song. My friend played it for me this weekend and I nearly started weeping. Related: It gives me tons of Olicity feels.

You Can Dance In a Hurricane (But Only If You’re Standing In the Eye) (AO3)

Felicity Smoak is not her mother’s daughter.

That much had been clear from a young age. Her first word was ‘Dada,’ her first steps were in her father’s direction, her mind was wired in almost the exact same way as his. All these years, she’s pretended like she forgot, but when Noah sits down at the computer next to her, the memories are crystal clear. Blue screens and screeching dial-up modems and laughing to near hysterics at a late night game of Treasure Mathstorm.

And despite her efforts to leave him in her memories, it seems they’re still more alike than she could have let herself imagine. Hacking alongside her father, it’s not hard to see how half of Felicity (at least, Curtis was a rambling mess, but he had a point there) is made up of this man.

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Behind castle walls

Le séjour d’Amara s’était étiré et avait été ponctué par des messages réguliers  à Tony. Elle lui avait envoyé des râles concernant les autres conférenciers , des pensées diverses et variées concernant certaines théories , et également  un sms  à chaque fois qu’on mentionnait le nom de  Stark ou Richards ou Banner par pour envie de l’ennuyer. Mais ces messages étaient devenus plus rares 2 jours avant son retour prévu et elle ne donna pas réellement de nouvelles quand elle fut de retour à New York. Il y avait une raison bien précise à cela : son orgueil. Elle n’était pas retournée au MIT , mais avait pris une semaine supplémentaire. Après avoir soigneusement évité le monde extérieur, elle s’était résolue à sortir pour acheter des courses.Amara s’était rendue à sa voiture et fit tomber ses clés. Elle jura sous sa barbe et se pencha pour les ramasser et sursauta quand un visage familier fut devant elle. Elle repositionna ses énormes lunettes de soleil et s’appuya contre sa voiture.  “ Grand Dieu, Tony…”