a shark bit it off right before we decided to go shoot this

“We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.” (from this post)

Sterek ficlet, T, ~1.6k words. Basically, I was going to just do a tiny little drabble as a warm-up for working on one of my WIPs, and then I was having too much fun with it to stop.

(Btw, if you couldn’t tell, I totally made up the book series in question. Any resemblance to any actual book is completely coincidental.) 

It’s definitely some kind of torture that on the day the seventh and final Path of Wolves novel comes out, Stiles still has to go to school like it’s not the most important day of the year or anything.

And okay, so it’s not like anyone else in Beacon Hills has even heard of these books except Scott, and then only because Stiles can’t shut up about them, but still. Stiles spends the entire day practically vibrating out of his skin with the anticipation. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken in a word any of his teachers has said today. The only reason he doesn’t try to make a break for it during lunch is that he can’t afford another detention on his record, and even so, he’s still sorely, sorely tempted to risk it. In the end, he has to get Lydia to hide his car keys from him.

(He was going to ask Scott to do it, but Scott would have caved as soon as Stiles started begging, and Stiles is definitely not above begging, so Lydia it is.)

The instant the final bell rings, though, Stiles is out of there, flying across the parking lot and gunning the Jeep. The bookstore probably only ordered a few copies, and if Stiles isn’t holding one of them by the time he leaves, somebody’s about to get murdered.

Not that he actually expects any competition, but it’s better not to let these things go to chance. He already messed up once by procrastinating on pre-ordering until they were sold out; he didn’t think it was possible for a Path of Wolves novel to be sold out. He was wrong, and now he’s paying for it by having to physically go to the bookstore to get it.

Either Stiles vastly overestimated how many copies the store was going to order, or else he vastly underestimated how many people in Beacon Hills read these books, because when he skids to a stop in front of the New Releases shelf, there’s only one copy left. One beautiful, perfect hardcover copy.

Lucky for him, one copy is enough.

Except that when he grabs ahold of it, someone else does, too.

For a long second, Stiles can’t even believe what he’s seeing. Another hand, on his book. Another hand that’s not letting go, even though Stiles has already clearly and unambiguously grabbed it by the spine and isn’t letting go, either.

Stiles turns his head incredulously to get a look at this usurper, and it’s Derek Hale. As in, made-of-muscles, leather-wearing lacrosse captain Derek Hale.

Until this moment, Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek could read, and now he’s trying to steal Stiles’ obscure eight-hundred-page fantasy novel. What.

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Here we go again..................

That MTV interview with the photographer was a well written piece of propaganda for “Bare with me”, basically saying that love is love, and it is beautiful in all forms. The stuff about Lauren and Lucy was all propaganda to prop up the narrative.

The photographer and the wardrobe lady were only saying what they were advised to say. LIES! (though the wardrobe lady decided to fuck the narrative a bit with the “sisterly and maternal connection”) Management did the same thing with DWTS. Val was advised to lie about when and where he had his first meet up with Normani for DWTS. They had been rehearsing for days before that Houston Rodeo, yet they wanted to push the narrative to the general public that the girls were in on the surprise, and helped introduce Mani to her dance partner. Why? To show how much they support her decision to do her own thing.

My point is, they (management) have no problem getting outside forces, other than the girls, to help sell their narrative. The ladies who did that photo-shoot with Lauren and Lucy are no different. Why have the photographer say what she said? They needed someone, other than Lauren or Lucy, to confirm that Laucy was real, to prove that Camren wasn’t. That one interview killed three birds with one stone. It confirmed Laucy, destroyed Camren, then destroyed Laucy, all at the same damn time. Brilliant actually.

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Uhh so this was in my drafts which I havent checked in weeks and totally forgot about? Anyway seeing as the fic I was supposed to be posting today got deleted,,, yall can have this one from like 5 months ago instead lmao.

Tony really should have noticed sooner.

On the surface, nothing seemed wrong. Steve was fine. A little ragged, maybe, but fine. He acted in the same way, smiled at Tony no differently, scolded Clint no less.


(Beware the read more, mobile users!)

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Many Things - Part 1

There’s more to this, but in the name of getting something up in time for Mother’s Day in the USA, here’s part one. May the day treat you well regardless of your status with mother’s or as a mother. This part is Rated K but rating will be at least an M at some point. I’ll be sure to rate each section as I get it posted. This is completely unbeta’d so if it’s crappy or riddled with mistakes, it’s all on me.

With a hefty sigh, Katniss falls back onto the bed and doesn’t move. She lays there with eyes shut, listening to the silence of the house and enjoying the peace for just a moment. There are dishes from dinner still piled in the sink, needing to be washed. A basket full of jumbled up laundry that she would need to fold and sort, unless she could convince Peeta to do that for her. Convincing usually doesn’t take much work since her husband is often eager to help in any way he can. She just feels guilty begging help from him late at night like this when he has to be up early to make it to the bakery in time to finish prep and open.

The bed dips beside her and hands cradle her head, lifting and placing her head carefully in his lap as she smiles faintly. Peeta’s fingers unwind the tie holding her hair in place and then her braid, which is probably a mess by now. She tugs self-consciously in her shirt, briefly hoping her mommy rolls aren’t on display before his fingers comb through her tresses with almost immediate effect. She hums contentedly, encouraging him to continue.

“I could draw you a bath,” he offers and she shakes her head.

“This is nice for now. And I’ve got dishes to wash.”

“I’ll wash the dishes,” he offers automatically.

“Laundry to fold,” she murmurs as she sinks into the warmth of his touch and the tingling in her scalp that his attention to her hair causes. She thinks back to a time when they would sit by the lake for hours, just like this, with Peeta playing with her tresses and Katniss soaking up sunshine and happiness like a pampered cat. Now they’re lucky to find a few minutes like this to themselves.

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Deal | Hwasa (Mamamoo)

Deal | Hwasa (Mamamoo)

word count: 3.1k
genre: smut, gang!au
warnings: kidnapping, handcuffs, mention of murder, mention of prostitution, mention of sex slaves
Caught You | Deal

When you startle away, body flinging upright on what appears to be a bed, you’re snapped back into a laid out position by heavy metal cuffs secured around your wrists. They’re looped carefully through the wrought iron bars of the headboard, leaving you with no room to escape. You probably wouldn’t get very far even if you could find a way to bend metal. Besides the smooth silk sheets that hang loosely around your waist, jostled by your hasty movements, you can feel that there’s nothing protecting your body from anything that could be lurking around here. You’re not even sure where “here” is since it’s not any of the back rooms at Lush and the expensive decor is certainly higher than your apartment. So aside from being cuffed to a bed, you have a few other problems involving the fact that you’re naked and in a foreign place. For all you know someone’s planning on killing you.

Then again if your hazy memories of what could be last night or weeks ago depending on how long you’ve been asleep, you’re somewhere only the members of Mamamoo can find you. That doesn’t sound very safe seeing as they’re the notorious gang that’s been plastered all over the media for months, but it’s better than the door opening and you not having an inkling of an idea as to who will greet you. As if the universe was timing the event to sync up with your internal monologue, the door across from the bed swings open. The woman you assume is Hwa Sa steps in and kicks the door shut behind her. There’s the telltale click of the lock and you’re suddenly not so sure the calm you felt just seconds earlier was truly warranted.

There’s nothing obviously menacing about the woman in front of you. If anything she screams sex on legs, but the deliberate way she stalks towards you reminds you a bit too much of a cheetah sneaking up on its prey. Even her eyes give off a predatory glint as she skirts over your current state. You should be embarrassed. A complete stranger so openly appraising your exposed body, but you suck it up and stare back at her with what you hope is an equally heated look. You brought this on yourself, but hell if you’ll go down without even a little bit of a fight. Hwa Sa just smirks at you and sits down next to you on the bed.

“Look who’s finally awake. I thought Byul Yi-unnie had killed you.” She teases. The same husky voice that had punched desire straight into your gut does it again and you immediately clamp your thighs together in what you hope is a discreet manner. The worst thing you can do right about now is show weakness. It’s apparent that all of them know what you’re up to, somehow, but you won’t back down now that you’re this close to exposing them. Your hopes for your jerky movement having been missed by the blue-haired girl are dashed when her hand shoots out to grab your thigh. Her sharpened nails lightly drag over your sensitive skin through the thin barrier of the sheet and you shift around awkwardly.

“Stop moving so much.” She huffs before swinging her leg across yours so she’s seated on your thighs. She’s not particularly heavy but the heat of her thick thighs caging around yours does little to douse that fire that she started ablaze. You fall still anyway, not wanting to push whatever patience she has for your situation. She nods to herself once you fall still.

“Okay, now we can get somewhere.” She shifts around on your lap before fully settling herself. “Young Sun-unnie sent me to interrogate you and she said use any means necessary, so that’s what I’ll do.” The name Young Sun is new to you but you have bigger things to worry about. You can’t tell if she’s informing you of this information or reminding herself of the task at hand. Either way it gives you a few seconds to steel yourself for what’s about to come. You’ve never been faced with such an ultimatum since this is the first time you’ve ever managed to get caught by the people you were after, but “any means necessary” usually means pain. You’re tough enough that you can deal with small doses of pain like slapping or hair pulling, that was just how most girls fought back when you first worked as a stripper, but a gang member could more than likely kill you with their bare hands no matter how attractive they are.

“First question: why were you trying to find us?” She asks carefully. Her thick lips are pressed into an unapologetic line as she awaits your answer. Should you tell her? They must already know half of the reason you’ve been so pressed to find out more about them if they could single you out in a club full of other dancers. The Byul Yi girl even knew your name, so what’s with the pretense. You seal your lips and look away.

“Oh, come on, [Name]. Just answer my questions. The quicker this is over the quicker we can figure out what to do with you. Good behavior is a guarantee that we won’t kill you. We prefer obedient toys.” Hwa Sa says matter-of-factly. Toys? All this time you had thought Mamamoo was just the typical drug dealing, money embezzling, loan sharking type of gang with an average body count, but her words sound as though they dabble in the realm of human trafficking as well. That’s where you draw the line. You could dance for money but letting people sleep with you for the same money that could buy you popcorn at the movies wasn’t something you were ready to take part in. You dodge her question by asking another.

“You’re gonna turn me into a prostitute?” It wouldn’t be that hard seeing as you’re attractive beyond average, but because of that you’re also well-known. As a journalist you get your picture spread around quite a lot as the woman who busted one dangerous crime ring or another. It would be hard to make you disappear without a little bit of backlash. Your company has the police monitoring you just to be sure that you don’t get caught up in this exact type of situation. Depending on how long you’ve been gone there will definitely be some sort of uproar going on at least at the office if not on the news and newspapers yet. You wonder if the girls are aware of this little fact.

“You’re too good to be a prostitute.” Hwa Sa decides, “You’d be our personal little doll. No one but us will get to touch you, so don’t worry.” Her words sound reassuring as if the life of a sex slave is made more appealing by being shared amongst only four women. Regardless of the fact that they’re all lovely to look at you can’t imagine it being very fun for you in the long run. Besides the fact that you’ll undoubtedly be hoarded away from the rest of society, you’d probably die after a few weeks. Byul Yi knocked you out in under an hour and you’ve been out cold for who knows how long. If the rest of them play as rough as she does you’ll wither into nothing just from overexertion and dehydration. There are probably chickens that die in more dignified manners.

“You can’t keep me here.” Hwa Sa blinks at you then smirks like she finds your declaration amusing.

“And why can’t we?”

“The police will be looking for me after too long of my not reporting back to work.”

“You think the police will be worried about a missing stripper? I’ve heard of housewives up and leaving their family without anyone batting an eye. You’re not that special sweetheart. Pretty, but not special.”

“Aren’t I though? You asked why I was trying to find you guys. Well, here’s your answer: I’m a journalist. It’s my job to hunt down leads about criminals and publish it in the news. I was trying to take you down. Now that I’m gone my company will have the police looking for me because if they find me they’ll more than likely find you, so I hope this place–wherever we are–isn’t in Seoul because it’s the first place they’ll be looking.” As you explain the gravity of the situation, Hwa Sa’s knowing smirk drops into a grin scowl. You’ve somehow gained the upperhand and you can all but see a plan formulating in her head as she tries to get around the situation she’s unknowingly put herself and the rest of the girls into. Not to say it’s her fault since it was Byul Yi that came in, guns blazing, and fucking you into oblivion. Had she just tried to negotiate with you you probably could’ve come to an agreement that didn’t immediately involve the police, but she’d been hasty in her planning and you’d been lax in your self-control which spiraled out into this mess.

“You’re lying.” Hwa Sa suddenly declares. You squint up at her. “You’re just trying to scare us into letting you go.”

“You think I’d lie about the police coming for me? For what? To get out of being a sex slave?” Hopefully you can turn this around on her. “I’ve slept with one of your members and you think I’d give that up to go home to bring a stripper. That job is all tease and no release. I’m not that dumb.”

“Obviously you are. I’m not falling for it, so tell me why you’re really after us. The truth or I won’t play so nice with you.” You’re not sure what she wants to hear at this point. You’ve told her the truth and she doesn’t believe you. There’s not much else to go on from there. Either she listens or she doesn’t, and it doesn’t matter either way because the police will start looking for you once they realize something’s gone amiss in your pursuit of the truth. No matter how annoyed they get with you sticking your nose in their area of expertise it’s still their job to keep you safe. Plus you become a helpful asset when you help track down criminals they couldn’t find on their own.

“That’s the truth. Take it or leave it.” The slap she administers to your face is fast and hard. You neck statins with the force with which it’s snapped to the side. You groan at the unpleasant feeling.

“Just tell me why you’re here!” She shouts. At this point it looks like she’ll be willing to take anything but the truth as just that. You could probably tell her you wanted to join and she’d eat it up. That’s not actually a half bad idea. It’s not unheard of for strippers to join gangs just for the money and extra clientele. In all honesty, that’s probably what Hwa Sa has been waiting for you to tell her; so you do.

“See; that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Her plush lips settle back into the same sly smirk that adorned her face when she first walked in. “But like I said, ‘you’re too good to be a prostitute’ and we’re not looking for new members.” Her voice has suddenly taken an aloof tone and anxiety twists in your gut like barbed wire. If they don’t need more members, then they don’t need you and uselessness isn’t a coveted trait around the underground. You squirm on the bed, still mostly pinned by Hwa Sa’s godly thighs, your wrist stinging as the metal handcuffs start to bite into your skin.

“Don’t look so worried,” Hwa Sa reassures you, “The option of being our plaything is still on the table.”

“I–I don’t want to.” You spout out stupidly. Hwa Sa quirks a perfect brow at you and you bite your lip at how dumb you sound. How would a prostitute be different from a personal sex slave? Easy, it’s not. Hwa Sa seems to think so, too.

“It’s not,” You look away from her to try and formulate a halfway believable excuse. “I just–I’m afraid I won’t be good enough.” That was a complete lie. You aren’t the type to sleep with half the city just because, but out of your small amount of partners no one has ever said you weren’t good. Some even called you for another round. But Hwa Sa doesn’t need to know that. You just pout your lips and avoid her eyes like the whole situation is embarrassing to you. A hand slams down on the bed next to your head and Hwa Sa is suddenly leaning so close to you that if you shifted forward even a fraction of an inch her lips would be on yours.

“I saw how you let Byul Yi-unnie fuck you,” Her other hand lands on your cheek, slowly moving lower; over the curve of your jaw, down the column of your neck, along the slant of your collarbone, lingering in the valley between your breasts before shooting down to hike your leg around her hip. The silk sheets slide lower still, barely protecting Hwa Sa’s shorts from being ruined by the growing heat between your legs. Instead of letting your single layer of protection remain Hwa Sa yanks it away. You don’t drop your leg from her hip. Instead you wrap both legs right around her and press your bare badly against her like a koala.

“What are you doing that for?” You pout and look away. “Baby, you know I’ve seen you makes before, right? And you didn’t seem to mind me staring at your boobs until a second ago.”

“I was a bit tied up.” You deadpan with a rattle of your cuffs.

“Good, you can stay like that.” She starts to get up and your heart freezes in your chest. She can’t leave you tied up. You wrack your brain for anything that could get her to stay, get her to uncuff you, until you realize she’s not leaving. Hwa Sa just stands at the foot of the bed, just staring at you. After a few beats of silence she starts tugging her shirt over her head. One after another her clothes drop to the floor until she’s completely naked.

“Let’s see if you’re really as bad as you say.” You tug hard on your restraints as Hwa Sa climbs over you again, your fingers reaching out to touch her gorgeous honey skin. You let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper when she presses her body against you, and your legs lock around her waist. She stares into your eyes few an intense moment before kissing you, hard. You kiss back with equal vigor, your hips twitching to press against her. Hwa Sa happily swallows your noises of satisfaction as you grind against her stomach.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” She groans into your neck between sucking dark bruises into your skin. You continue regardless only to stop when her hand slips between the two of you to glide across your clit. You cry out, cuffs clanging against the metal as you try fruitlessly to touch her. “God, baby, how are you this wet already?” She teases, pulling her hand away to hold it up to the light. Your arousal shines on her fingers before getting licked off by her tongue. The whine that rips from your throat is more akin to a kicked puppy than a human as your mind runs wild with how she could use that tongue on you.

“Hwa Sa,” She smirks down at you, grabbing a handful of your breast and teasing your nipple with her still-wet fingers.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Eat me, please.” You pant. You’re getting so wound up and she hasn’t really done anything yet. Hwa Sa tilts her head thoughtfully with another one of her smirks tugging at her lips.

“Only if you promise to return the favor,” You nod aggressively, doing whatever it takes to feel those pretty lips and perfect tongue against you right now. Hwa Sa unhooked your legs and moves up your body. Your tongue pokes eagerly out of your mouth as she turns around and drops her hips against your face. You can tell what she’s doing, but still react like you’ve been electrocuted when she spreads your thighs then presses her tongue flat against your clit. You muffle your moans against her pussy, reveling in the taste of her as she licks into you with the same feverish intensity she had kissed you. Each swirl of her tongue leaves you flying higher, closer to your release and you happily return the favor tenfold. Your lips wrap around her clit and suck hard, rewarding her with a playful finger thrusting inside her when she moans against you again.

You feel like you’re melting. All you can feel is her. Hwa Sa’s glorious thighs cage you in, her wet pussy rocking desperately against your mouth, her lips kissing your lower lips while two fingers press against your g-spot. You’re so close to the edge that your legs shake around Hwa Sa’s head as she mutters the dirtiest things into your thigh. She comes before you, your mouth floods with the taste of her as her fingers fuck into you faster. You come seconds later with a shout of her name. Both of you collapse against the bed in blissed out fatigue. After a few minutes Hwa Sa moves to uncuff you. Just as she’s tossing away the offending object the door opens again and Byul Yi and the one you think is Young Sun step in. Young Sun looks amused at the sight before her, but Byul Yi looks livid.

“Unnie, wait! Before you get mad at me: she agreed to be our go-to girl for whenever we need to fuck.” Hwa Sa sputters quickly. You can’t remember explicitly agreeing to those terms, but you don’t say anything to correct her. It doesn’t work to pacify Byul Yi, though. The grey haired girl storms out of the room without saying anything.

“Don’t worry about her, sweetheart,” Young Sun says as she walks up to stand next to the bed, “Byul Yi has always been a little possessive.” Hwa Sa scoffs.

“A little?” Young Sun gives her a pointed look that shuts up whatever tangent the younger was about to go off on.

“She’ll have to learn to share, ’cause from now on this,” Her hand shoots out to cup your sex, “Belongs to all of us now. Remember that, Hye Jin.”
Downfall [09]

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5,018

Genre: Assassin AU

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

Just as you anticipated, Jimin was able to use his powers of persuasion to extract information from the “wanted man”. Although the timing of your teammate’s call wasn’t the best—it never is—you were given the details of the new mission along with coordinates to the rendezvous point where the rest of the team would be waiting.

The information obtained from the “wanted man” revealed that there is going to be an important shipment of goods coming into the harbor today. The subject matter of “goods” can very well be anything ranging from drugs to weapons, but when the word “dangerous” is mentioned before it like in this instance, it usually turns out to be the latter.

Sometimes, it’s worse.

Whatever the shipment is, your organization sorely does not want to risk the chance of it making it past the docks, and that is the only reason you need to spring into action.

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The Joker x Reader  “Missing in action”

You had to go away for two weeks and everything went downhill. It is all his fault, of course, but when does J ever admit to anything?!

Could be related to this: http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/155242410171/the-joker-x-reader-love-at-first-sight

Your plane landed in Gotham two hours sooner than expected. You don’t want to wait for Frost to pick you up so you are taking a cab. You’ve been away for two weeks and you just can’t wait to get back to the penthouse.


To be honest, you were surprised that morning when you went to the hideout and saw your name on the schedule: “Y/N- New York Mission- 2 weeks.” When you see your name up on the schedule, it means that you leave immediately, turn off your cellphone and no contact with anybody until you’re back. Just in case things go south. 


Not too long and you are going to see him soon. And Jonny too. You finally turn on your cell phone and after a few seconds, it vibrates and goes crazy: 589 texts from J and 200 missed calls. What the hell?! You are very confused and start reading through the messages:

“Where are you, doll?”

“You know I hate it when you don’t answer!!! Text me back NOW!!!”

“Seriously? Are you playing games with me??!!”

“I’m going to throw away all your stuff, I’ll set your bedroom on fire!!!”

“You’re dead to me!!! If I find you I will kill you!!!!”

Jesus, what is going on?

“Kitten, come on, answer…Daddy misses you…”

“I’m not setting your bedroom on fire, ok? Text me back!!!!!!!”

“Crap, Frost told me you went to New York, why was that on the schedule???!!!”

“Oh my God, I’m so bored without you. I didn’t even kill anybody; it’s no fun if you’re not here.”

“Disregard the last text, I’m not that desperate. I don’t care about you.”

“Dammit, I’m horny, when are you coming back?…”

“Frosty tells me you’ll be gone for 2 weeks, WTF?! “

And it went on and on forever, you just have to erase everything, it is just too much to read and keep up with. At this point you have no clue what the heck just happened but you guess you will find out soon.


“Hi boys!” you salute everybody downstairs as you make your way to the elevator.

“Hi, Y/N, you’re back!”

“Thank God!”

“Finally. Hello Y/N!”

“Wasn’t Frost supposed to pick you up? He always does when you come back,” Panda talks as he walks besides you.

“Hey Richard. My plane landed ahead of the schedule, go figure, so I decided to just take a taxi.”

“We are soooo happy you’re back, Mister J went crazy when he found out you were send away for so long. Apparently he forgot to erase the entry from the schedule… He wanted us to come get you but then he changed his mind because he wanted the deal closed anyway.”

“Ummm, why are there bullet holes in the walls?!” you interrupt him, mortified. You really love the place and you don’t like it vandalized.

“Well, Mister J came downstairs and was mad as hell, started shooting at everything and yelled at us to go get his doll back. Frosty calmed him down and the only casualty was Mark with two bullets in his leg. Still recovering.”

“That’s why I didn’t see the Shark,” you answer, feeling kind of sorry for him. “I want everything fixed, nice and as good as new, alright?”

“OK, Y/N.”

You get in the elevator and he stays behind with your suitcase.

“Don’t ever leave for so long, Y/N.”

“Can’t promise anything, Rich,” you wink at him as the doors close.


“Jonny!!!!!” you wildly smile as you go and hug him. “I missed you!”

“Y/N, why didn’t you wait for me?” Frost squeezes you in his arms, happy to see you. Not that he would do that around the other henchmen, it would take away from his…reputation. You two are each other’s only family, cousins from your mother’s side. He is three years older than you and actually consider yourselves more like siblings than cousins.

“Awww, the penthouse looks the same, I missed it,” you sigh as he releases you. “Where’s J?”

Frost doesn’t have time to answer because you notice the Joker backing out of the master bedroom with only a towel around his waist.

“Frosty, go pick her up already!”

He turns and sees you. A huge grin starts to creep up on his face.

“Hiiiiiiii Puddiiiinnn,” you playfully dread the words, excited to see him in such a nice…attire.

“Kitten, you’re here!” his arms spread and he signals you to go to him. “Hop on!”

You run and jump in J’s arms. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him all over his face while he purrs. Frost starts to feel uncomfortable.

“Muahhh, I missed you so much,” you giggle, planting another kiss on his pale cheek.

He just takes your left hand, kisses your wrist and then your fingers before placing it around his neck again.

“Baby doll, don’t ever leave again,” he whispers in your ear, then loud:

“Who the hell was the idiot that sent you away for two weeks?!” he suddenly frowns, lifting you higher as you tighten your grip around him even more.

The glare you and Frost give makes him clench his jaw.

“Wait…was it me?”

Is this a trick question? Because none of you want to answer.

“I saw myself on the schedule and I left,” you blur out since he’s waiting for an answer.

“Well, dammit Frosty,” he yells, “how the hell am I supposed to keep an eye on everything?! You are the one that should have noticed the error!”

Of course is always somebody else’s fault. You want to start defending Jonny when he figures it’s just best to open his mouth and say it, even if he didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m sorry, boss, it won’t happen again.”

“You’d better make sure,” he growls, turning his attention towards you again.

“Pumpkin, why didn’t you answer my texts and my calls?” The Joker pinches your butt and you squirm a bit, laughing, but he won’t put you down.

“Well, J, cells phones off, no contact. Right?” you reply with a grimace when you feel another pinch.

“Dammit, those rules don’t apply to you, Princess,” he shakes his head in disapproval, annoyed.

“Well, baby, how am I supposed to know?!”

You lift your shoulders, exasperated. He’s so difficult sometimes.

He shouts again:

“Frosty, what the hell?! My girl doesn’t need to follow those rules.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” your cousin needlessly takes the blame again. What else can he do at this point?

“Frosty, stop aggravating me,” Mister J threatens and you feel very sorry for Jonny. The things he has to endure from his boss sometimes…and the things you have to put up with too.

You decide to distract him by brushing your lips against his so you can get his attention. It sure worked almost instantly. Victory! A small one, but still…

“Frost,” you address him, “did J behaved while I was gone? Any girls I should be aware of?”

“No, Y/N, none.”

“See? I behaved,” he hisses at you, pleased with his achievement.

 “So you missed me a lot?” you caress his green hair, playing with it.

“A little bit,” he admits, biting your neck, lifting you higher again. From all the movement his towel comes undone and ends up on the floor.

Frost averts his eyes, horrified to see his boss completely naked. This image is going to be imprinted in his brain for a while and not even therapy will get it out anytime soon. You didn’t even feel anything because you have your jeans on; J knows and he just doesn’t give a shit.

“Frosty, leave now, we’re going to be busy for a while, don’t let anyone disturb us, got it?” the Joker commands, heading back to the master bedroom with you still hanging around his waist. You wave at Jonny as J slams the door behind him, cutting you off.

He places you on the desk and backs out a bit and then you notice him naked.

“Oh, wow, baby, this is quite the welcome, I missed those… tattoos,” you gasp, pulling him back against you in a rough kiss.

“Kitten,” he snickers, taking off your t-shirt, ”do you know I’ve been waiting for this since you went missing?”

“I can imagine with you being so possessive and…hot blooded,” you tease, digging your nails in his back. “I have a surprise for you,” you bite your lips before he can protest at what just came out of your mouth. Thank God that with his attention span he is pretty easy to trick. Not all the times, but most of the times. You take his hand and together pull down on your jeans until your left hip is exposed and he finally sees it.

“Princess, I love it!” he gasps, looking at your new tattoo: a smiley mouth biting on a heart that has “Joker” written on top and bottom, colored in neon green, purple and black.

“It still hurts a bit, but…”

You don’t finish the sentence and he is already kissing it.

“Does this hurt?”

You close your eyes, smiling, enjoying the soft touch. He kisses the skin again.

“What about now?”

“No, it doesn’t,” you moan, feeling his tongue all over the design.

You tilt your head backwards, lightly panting and wanting more when you remember:

“Wanna see something cool?” you seductively ask, liking your lips.

“I already am,” he gulps with a wild spark in his eyes, taking your jeans off.  Now you are only in your bra and panties. You chuckle and reach for the desk lamp, turning it off.

The Joker inhales deeply, amazed to see your tattoo glowing in the dark.

“It looks even better, Princess! Daddy loves it. Now let me show you how much.”

He takes you in his arms and carries you to the bed, laughing in your ear:

“We’ll never need the light on again.”

Also read - MASTERLIST :


Many Things

I know I promised the last part of Come On Baby, Light My Fire for today, but it’s been giving me issues. So I distracted myself by finishing up this, which I started for Mother’s Day, so it’s only a month late, no big deal. Haha. Anyhow, this is the entire piece I had planned. If you’ve read the first part when I posted it back in May, you can skim to the first line break or reread, whatever. This is completely unbeta’d so all mistakes or awkwardness are my fault. Also, it’s rated VERY MUCH M…for smut. Enjoy and everyone have a great weekend!

With a hefty sigh, Katniss falls back onto the bed and doesn’t move. She lays there with eyes shut, listening to the silence of the house and enjoying the peace for just a moment. There are dishes from dinner still piled in the sink, needing to be washed. A basket full of jumbled up laundry that she would need to fold and sort, unless she could convince Peeta to do that for her. Convincing usually doesn’t take much work since her husband is often eager to help in any way he can. She just feels guilty begging help from him late at night like this when he has to be up early to make it to the bakery in time to finish prep and open.

The bed dips beside her and hands cradle her head, lifting and placing her head carefully in his lap as she smiles faintly. Peeta’s fingers unwind the tie holding her hair in place and then her braid, which is probably a mess by now. She tugs self-consciously in her shirt, briefly hoping her mommy rolls aren’t on display before his fingers comb through her tresses with almost immediate effect. She hums contentedly, encouraging him to continue.

Keep reading

Your Friendly Neighborhood Flash

In a bit of a Barry mood, if you couldn’t tell.
Also, I saw Dawn of Justice the other day, and let me just say, I love Superman even more now.
And Gal Gadot is a total babe.

Title: Your Friendly Neighborhood Flash
Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader
Summary: Reader is saved by the Flash. Barry panics once confronted, calling himself “your friendly neighborhood Flash”
Word Count: 1,524
Warnings: food mention

Your name: submit What is this?

             "Oh shit…“

           The words spill out of your mouth as your eyes widen in shock. King Shark towers above you, demolishing buildings and tearing people apart. Fear sets in and you find yourself running as fast as you can away from the scene. 

           "Where is the Flash?” screams King Shark, reverberations causing the ground to rumble. 

           Before you know it, you’re swept off your feet and drawn into the clutches of the mammoth meta-human. You’re terrified as you’re lifted higher and closer to the mouth of King Shark. If you survived this, you would never eat sushi ever again. 

           "I heard you were looking for me,“ called a voice behind you. 

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I love your prompts so much, you have an amazing gift! My request is angsty, so feel free to deny it. An exlover comes to the rfa party after learning of MC's relationship with Jumin, shoots his gun at Jumin, but MC jumps in front of him and takes the bullet instead? Forgive me for my English, and please deny if you don't want to write this. If you do however, thank you very much.

Thank you so much, this is so sweet omg! 

Also, this is like shark week but with angst but we only having happy endings in this household

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and have a terrific day!


Music drowned the ballroom, a bouncy, uplifting beat drenching your ears as you trailed about. 

Your husband walked beside you, a tender arm weaved about your waist protectively. 

The party was just as extravagant and as successful as before, voices full of thanks and compliments fluttering by as you went on.

“I think you did a wonderful job darling,” He hummed in your ear, pressing a fond kiss to your temple. “You worked very hard.” 

“Thank you!” You beamed. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“Although I do sincerely hope that this means you won’t be staying up until early morning trying to reply to emails.” 

“I was a bit all over the place…wasn’t I?” 

“You were doing your best. But I must admit that I do miss having you fall asleep in my arms.” 

“I miss it too.” You snickered. “So we’ll just have to do something about that won’t we…” 

Your voice drawled as you noticed an odd figure trudging amongst the crowd, muted gray eyes glued onto you. 

“Love?” Jumin drew back your focus, furrowing his brow with slight concern. “Is something wrong?” 

You blinked rapidly in an awkward manner, finding the odd gaze to have disappeared in the swamp of people. “No, it’s fine. Just thought I saw something.” 

“I think perhaps the stress is getting to you.” He murmured. “Maybe a dance will help?” 

He knew you barely knew how to dance.

It was obvious by the small grin tugging at his lips. 

“And what kind of dancing?” 

“Hopefully the sort where I’m able to sweep you off your feet.”

“You did that a long time ago you know.” You let him lead you to the dancefloor, his arm pulling you closer to him as the crowd grew thicker. 

“And I can’t help but still be in awe at that.” A soft glaze shimmered in his eyes as he glanced towards you. 

It was an odd thing.

He would look at you as though you sprinkled the sky with stars, or lit up the sun in the morning.

As though you were everything. 

He held you gently, leading you carefully as the two of you danced.

He’d mutter each step quietly under his breath to you, giving your hand encouraging squeezes as you progressively improved.

Whenever other people would come to take either you or him as a partner he’d simply tighten his grip upon you, shooting daggers at them.

Nothing seemed wrong.

Perfect even.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice the same eyes following you as it almost circled you. 

It was getting closer.

It was unsettling.

The anger and malice dripping from the gaze left you chilled to the bone. 

Yet it had to simply just be some sort of trick in your head right?

You nearly shoved the thought out of your mind until you saw a finger tap Jumin’s shoulder.

You lifted your gaze and froze.

The very same eyes were in front of you.

Belonging to your ex.

Jumin knew of him from stories you’d tell, but you’d done your best to remove all physical reminders of him. 

Yet you’d never truly forget his face. 

His murky blonde hair was slicked back, his sharp, angular features emphasized more and more. 

“May I steal her away for a moment?” 

His voice was so honeyed. 

It would always lighten whenever he’d speak to you, controlling all of your emotions and motivations until you nearly never saw him in a negative light.

It was always your fault.

And he had been flawless.

Your husband caught the disdainful look in your expression and leaned you closer against him. 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

“And how come?”

Your heart beat hurriedly like a drum as his voice continuously flooded into your ears. 

He needed to leave.

He couldn’t be here.  

“Is no not a sufficient answer?”” 

“Well, it’s certainly not the answer I’ll be taking.” He remarked, folding his lips. “After all, you’ve stolen the love of my life.” 

The atmosphere shifted.

Jumin was silent, ushering you behind him as his voice lowered. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Did I stutter?” The man raised his brows, arrogance oozing from him. “I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten about me. I’m known to be a memorable person.” 

“It’s funny how I don’t even know your name then.” 

“It doesn’t matter if you do. But I’d be a bit heartbroken if she didn’t.” 

You hid your face from him, tears brimming in your eyes. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Jumin growled, a low rumble emanating from his throat. “I don’t think you’re wanted.” 

“Oh, I’ll leave, as soon as you let her go.” He said. “You’ve been a very good interim while I was gone, but I’m afraid we’ve recovered from our ‘break’.” 

His words left a cold emptiness inside of you.

“It’s time to come home.” 

“You are not going anywhere with my wife.” Aggression poured in Jumin’s tone, his hands clenching into fists. “But you and your delusions will be walking out of that door right now.” 

“Are you not even going to let her decide? I’m sure she’s missed me for ages.” 

Your breath hitched, shifting closer to your husband, burying your head between his shoulder blades. 

You didn’t even have to speak for him to understand.

“If she missed you, she wouldn’t have married me.” He snapped. “I thought even that much should be obvious to you.” 

“Oh right, right…” He slipped his hand into his pocket, tentatively fiddling with something. 

He was debating. 

“And someone as powerful as you couldn’t possibly have forced her into it I’m sure.” He sneered, sarcasm clear in his tone. “I’m sure she just absolutely adores the cold, spoiled, and disgusting businessman.” 

That struck something with you.

It was no longer fear or sadness.

It was anger.

It erupted like a firework, your head lifting in his direction.

“Get out.” 

He stared at you in surprise. “W-What?” 

“Get out. Now.” 

“Well, now I’m sure something is seriously wrong.” The man retorted, his voice raising. “Because I know you would never say something like that to me!” 

That’s when he revealed what he was hiding. 

A pistol. 

He held it, finger hovering over the trigger as his sight darted between to two of you. “So what did he say to make you have the audacity to say that to me?” 

You were stunned.

“Stay behind me, do not move. No matter what.” Jumin whispered to you, fear flashing upon him for a moment. 

But you couldn’t do that. 

“No-you know what? It’s fine! I’ll just get rid of him and we’ll go!” He gasped, his voice falling apart by the second. “Just the two of us.”

And as he raised the pistol, his finger pressing backward against the trigger, you rushed forward. 

You pushed Jumin away, a sudden pain coursing through your body like a bolt of electricity. 

The bullet rang like a shock wave, smashing into your shoulder. 

And for a moment the world stopped. 

You stumbled awkwardly, nearly falling had it not been for your husband catching you, entangling you frantically in his arms. 

The man gave a horrified expression, his jaw dropping before rushing off in a troubled dash.

“MC, why did you do that?” He almost whimpered, staring with terror as blood soaked your clothing. 

“I had to make sure you’d be okay…” You gasped, grinning gently as he tipped his forehead against your own. 

“Well let me make sure you’ll be okay now darling.” He was barely able to maintain a sense of calm, his words stuttering and breaking with the terrified tears dribbling down his cheeks. “But you need to promise me that you’ll stay awake. Stay with me. Please.” 

You nodded, reaching up to wipe the tears away. 

“Don’t worry. I’m going to stay right here with you.” 

And despite all that occurred you still managed to make him smile.

Because he knew your words were absolutely true.

sebigasstianstan replied to your post “Ok quick guys, I need to write something short and beach, vacation, or…”

Okay, so I’m no help, because my first thought was, “DEREK SAVES STILES FROM A SHARK ATTACK BY PUNCHING THE SHARK IN THE FACE” because I am lacking in sleep. Idk. You probably shouldn’t write that.

This was just crack-tastic enough for me to be able to throw something together for before falling asleep, so thank you!!


“I just… I can’t believe you seriously did that, dude.”

Stiles is grinning as he trails Derek into the loft, dressed in swimming trunks and neon green sandals, sopping wet but positively lit up with mirth at what is obviously the older man’s expense.

Erica sits up from her comfortable spot against Boyd’s side, gaze darting eagerly between Stiles and her scowling, equally sodden alpha. A delighted Stiles and a grumpy Derek pretty much always equal amusement, and their soaked forms added in pretty much guarantees a story she’ll be able to enjoy for days.

“Can’t believe he did what?”

“It was adorable,” Scott chimes in, entering the loft last and tugging the door shut behind him. He’s the only one of the trio that isn’t soaking from head to foot, though he – like Stiles – is dressed in swimming trunks and sandals. He kicks the latter off and moves to sink down onto the other edge of the couch, his expression like he’s fighting between looking disapproving and bursting into laughter.

“It was ridiculous,” Stiles corrects, and Derek squelches to a stop, his soaked sneakers taking away whatever threat might have been in the movement as he spins back to pin the grinning teen with a fierce look.

“How was I supposed to know what was going on?”

“Um…” Stiles says, hand flailing up to gesture from himself to Scott. “You could’ve tried asking us? Instead of diving right in with the whole ‘grr, alpha, angry kill kill’ routine?”

“What did he do?” Erica repeats, tone so pitched with preemptive glee that she finally captures the pair’s attention. When they look at her Derek’s expression is just as stormy as Stiles’ is amused. “I mean,” she adds, gaze skating appraisingly down Derek’s soaked form, “besides deciding to enjoy a day at the beach, full brooding ensemble intact?”

Stiles barks a laugh at that, and Erica might have been the littlest bit intimidated by Derek’s expression if he weren’t too busy looking like a soaked puppy.

“Derek dove to Stiles’ rescue,” Scott intones. “Literally.”

Keep reading

We Used To Be Friends - Luke

I know there’s been a lot of “Tutor Luke” imagines, but I thought I’d try writing one! I hope you like it! This is Part 1..

PS. I’m now singing The Dandy Warhols..


“Don’t you think you two are a bit old to be building forts?” Your mother raises an eyebrow at you and your best friend’s pile of cushions and blankets.

“Imagination has no age, mum” you roll you eyes in a superior way, pretending you’re much older than your 12 years. Luke’s eyes meet yours, wide grin on his face, making him look far younger than his 12.

“You have a response to everything, young lady” your mum’s eyes narrow.

“No offence, Mrs Y/L/N” Luke’s cheeks heat up, “but you’re standing in the middle of shark infested waters right now.”

“Yeah, this fort is the only safe area” you nod furiously.

“Luke, I thought you’d at least jump in to save me” your mum laughs.

“Every man for himself” Luke pulls his legs further back into the blanket.

“Well, I’m glad to see we brought you two up well” she shakes her head, “stay young, kids.”

“I don’t want to grow up”
You frown, deciding there and then to make it your mission to find Neverland before your eighteenth birthday.

“I do” Luke grumbles, “I’m fed up of being treated like a baby.”

“But grown ups are so boring. You’d never see them building a fort” you argue.

“Well, when we’re grown ups, we’ll build forts” Luke shuffles so he’s facing you.

“You promise we’ll always have fun and play games, even when we’re properly grown up?” You hold out your little finger.

“I promise” Luke grins, clasping your finger in his own.

“Y/N! Luke!” You head your mother shout from the kitchen, “what is this bowl of brown liquid in the kitchen?!” You can hear the anger and confusion in her voice.

“We should probably run and hide now” Luke’s eyes widen as your mum has found your attempts at recreating George’s Marvellous Medicine.



“So, anyway, it went in her eye” your head shoots up at Alex’s words.

“What did you just say?!” You stare at him.

“I knew you weren’t listening” Alex huffs.

“What went in whose eye?!”

“Candle wax”

“Ok, you’re going to have to repeat this story” your nose scrunches.

“Molly Cooper blew out a candle and the hot wax went in her eye and she had to go to hospital” he explains.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s gossip and I thought you’d be interested!” Alex had been mainly speaking to fill your silence.

“I’m not”

“Well, I won’t share it in the future” He scowls, “wait, what did you think went in her eye?”

“I heard the word ‘blowing’ but I didn’t think you were talking about candles” you smirk.

“Oh god, that would have been a far better story” he stares into space as he imagines that scenario.

“Wouldn’t it?” You laugh. The grin fades from your face as your eyes meet another’s from across the cafeteria. Luke quickly looks away from you, as he always did. As he had done for the past four and a half years. He stares at the empty plate in front of him for a second, before realising that his friends were waiting to leave. Scraping his chair along the floor, he stands up, towering over the people around him.

“I wish he wasn’t so good looking” Alex sighs, noticing your focus on Luke “oh my god, remember when you used to be friends with him?”

“Our parents are friends, we were just lumped together” you shrug off his question, not wanting to talk about the fact you and Luke never speak anymore. He had changed too much in five years for the two of you to ever get along again.

“Ugh, I’m starving” Mia plonks onto the chair next to you, helping herself to your food.

“We’re in a cafeteria” you raise an eyebrow at her, “it’s literally a place for you to get food and yet you’re stealing mine.”

“But there’s a queue” she whines.

“Mia, we were going to send Molly some flowers, or bake her a cake or something” Alex ignores the two of you.

“Were we?” You question, “what’s it going to say? ‘Sorry you got cum in your eye’?” You say too loudly just as Luke walks past your table. His head shoots round to you, his mouth quirks as though he’s trying not to laugh. You quickly turn your head, not knowing how to respond to him anymore. Your best friend of 12 years and now it was if he was a stranger to you.

“She got cum in her eye?!” Molly’s eyes widen.

“No! Ignore Y/N. She got candle wax in her eye and she’s in pain!” Alex frowns at you.

“Why are we making her a cake?” Mia scrunches her nose up.

“We’re not” you sigh.

“I just thought we could be nice!” Alex defends himself.

“We’re not nice people, Al” you try to focus on the people in front of you and not the tall blonde who’s just left the room.

“Well, you’re not” he scoffs.

“Come on, we have English” Mia groans, slowly standing up.

“Wonderful” you mutter under your breath. The lesson you dreaded most. The lesson with an arranged seating plan. The lesson you were forced to sit next to Luke.


“Who got cum in their eye?” Luke asks as soon as you’ve taken your seat.

“No one”

“Then what were you talking about before?” He leans towards you.

“I was talking to my friends, not you” you begin to write the date on the paper in front of you.

“Rude” he slouches in his seat.

“You’re not my friend, Luke”

“And you’re not mine” You can feel his eyes on your face.

“Right, today we’re starting a new book” the young, frazzled looking teacher dumps a pile of books down on his desk which a loud thud, “the book is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Not to be confused with Jane Eyre, who is a fictional character created by Charlotte Brontë.” His words are met with a huge groan.

“Great” Luke mutters from beside you.

“Hey, it’s a classic book, there’s a reason people are still reading it today!” Your teacher defends his literature choice, “has anyone read it before?” A few people, including yourself, stick their hand up.

“You’re gonna have to explain this book to me” Luke mutters.

“Try reading it first” you shoot back.

“Some crappy romance? I’m good, thanks” his mouth barely moves as he tries to hide your conversation from your English teacher.

“It’s one of the best known stories and collection of characters ever written, still read, loved and reimagined now, over 200 years later. Yet you’re flippantly labelling it as a 'crappy romance’?” You frown at him, not caring if people hear you.

“Yes” he nods, taking the copy of the book from the girl handing them out.

“Ugh, why do I have to sit next to you?” You turn the dog-eared book in your hands.

“It’s the highlight of your week” he grins.

“Course it is”

“Luke” the teacher’s voice and sudden appearance by the side of your desk makes you both jump, “I want you to work with Y/N on this coursework.”

“Wait, what?” Luke looks confused.

“You failed the last piece. Your understanding of the literature was…poor. Y/N can help you understand the story, she’ll be your tutor on this.” He looks between you and Luke, his voice quiet so the other students don’t hear.

“I don’t need a tutor” Luke looks both annoyed and embarrassed.

“Sir, I don’t have time to babysit Hemmings because he can’t be bothered to read a book!” You know your argument is pointless and unfair, but you don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary.

“You’re tutoring him, Y/L/N, and that’s that” his tone tells you not to bother arguing, “you can meet in here tomorrow morning, you’re both free for the first period. Right, everyone,” he turns to address the class, “start by reading the first chapter in silence, then we’ll discuss it.”

“I don’t need tutoring” Luke shakes his head defiantly.

“I know you don’t” you turn to him, “so why do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you always did really well in school, why are you struggling now? What is it making you not focus on your school work?” You’re aware you sound like a concerned parent.

“Jesus, I didn’t realise you were my mum” he rolls his eyes, yet there’s an edge to his voice that tells you he’s embarrassed.

“It’s your education, Luke. It’s important, you need to pass this coursework!” You hate sounding like you care about him, but you know you always will.

“You’re just as bossy as you always were” he scowls.

“You know nothing about me anymore”

“Yes, I do” he scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing” he stares straight ahead “fine, if I have to have a stupid tutor, then I will.”

“Tomorrow morning at 9” you nod once.

“Great” he mutters, his voice laden with sarcasm.


Let me know your thoughts/Part 2??

fic: Stranger Than Friction, 2/2, complete. (Broadchurch; Hardy/Miller)

Broadchurch, post-series one, Hardy/Miller

The moving-in together fic I didn’t even know I wanted to write. 

Teen, 5,383 words, this section; 10,339 words complete. 

I was absolutely hellbent on having this completed before it got jossed on Monday, and I did it with about 72 hours to spare. It only took a year and a half, hey!

Part One | AO3

He doesn’t have much stuff, most of it got left in his old house, the one his ex-wife and his daughter still live in, and it suits him just fine, slotting into this place like it’s an extended-stay hotel. 

Because this is all just temporary, that’s what he keeps telling himself. Miller is still, understandably, in some sort of grieving period, and he…he’s trying to stay alive. 

But he’s not lived with anyone in years now, and it’s an adjustment, seeing Miller in the kitchen, hearing a baby crying at two in the morning. There are television programs he would never have picked, and meals he never eats entirely alone anymore. 

There’s Miller, smelling like oranges, and he knows why now, has used the loo on the first floor and seen the citrus bath products lining the shower shelves, in nearly new bottles. And when he thinks about it, leading Joe to the station, he’d smelled like Miller used to, or Miller had smelled like him, and there’s a story there, a thousand stories, little adjustments she’s had to make, or wanted to make, and he can’t possibly imagine all of them. 

It’s disconcerting, thinking about all of it. When she leaves half-empty cups of water on every single table, he finds himself wondering if that drove Joe mental, and whether bringing it up, after accidentally knocking over his fifth one that week, will set off some sort of emotional trauma. 

Instead he keeps his mouth shut and tries not to wonder if, to her, those cups are half full

They probably used to be. 

Keep reading

dixiebell  asked:

Sorry to bother you again but...I was looking at Ruther's storify again. Your tweet said Sherlock was driving the car in the birth scene. Did they film that both ways?

I’ve definitely seen a few posts on my dash that talk about this inconsistency. It’s. Super super weird. 

Here are a bunch of close up photos.

I did tweet that he was driving. Because he was in the driver’s seat. Amanda and Martin were in the back seat. (Basically, how one might expect the situation to go - John, a doctor, being right next to his pregnant wife).

In another post of mine on tumblr I say, “Sherlock may or may not have turned full-bodily around towards the back seats.” I remember Sherlock moving around quite a bit in the front seat. It was super super dark and the juxtaposition of the car headlights with the dark tunnel blinded much of what we could see. The photos taken by sherlock-series probably had the best view of us all. But in no account from the ~10 setlockers there + this camera was John seen in the driver’s seat in any take. 

Now, from the Behind 221B video we did see them with a car in the studio, using a green screen to fill in the locations they were driving by. So I suppose it’s possible everything was taken from that shoot. But why shoot at Miles Street then, and only with Sherlock in the driver’s seat?

Here is an excerpt from @hotsmugstache: “Ben was on the driver’s side in rehearsal and during parts of the takes, but he may have moved towards the middle and faced the back seats.”

So…yeah. Fucking odd. BUT ALSO I’ve been thinking a tiny bit.

When we see the car, it has obviously been “pulled over” 

and in TST Mary keeps on screaming “pull over” and this transitions right away into the baby shower scene. So what actually happened? Did they actually pull over? What happened to the shark graffiti? And the entire stationary car? And the changed seat positions?

My initial thought was “yet another inconsistency!!” but…in reality, this could have been one of the few scenes that ended up getting cut because of the director’s cut being 20 minutes over. Like at some point John and Sherlock change positions in the car to help Mary, and they just decided they could cut this part out? 

We thought we saw Sherlock with a camera, so maybe they actually filmed Mary giving birth in the parked car (Sherlock and John maybe switching places off screen?), Sherlock taking a photo, and THAT photo was the photo that was supposed to transition into the baby shower scene before the cut was made? 

Andrea and Beth

With the season 5 finale coming up tomorrow, I wanted to take one last stab at a TD theory. This has a lot to do with what I suspect went on behind the scenes beginning with season 2. If Gimple is the evil genius we all suspected him to be and season 5 is a very very long set up and con with Beth at the payoff, then this theory will make sense. If Gimple is a blind pig who once found a truffle, then it won’t. So here we go.
I think that Gimple was privy to the fact that Mazzara was going to take Gimple’s favorite comic book character away, and so began planting the seeds for Beth to eclipse and take over comic Andrea’s role starting with “18 Miles Out”—the first episode to have a Beth-centric component to it. The proof of this is that—while Andrea was prevented by Dale from committing suicide—she deliberately allowed Beth to make that choice for herself. And what did Beth choose? To live! From that point out, she never wavered from that decision. I believe that Gimple knew he would need a replacement for comic Andrea beginning at season 2, and he chose Beth to fill Andrea’s shoes. That is why she was kept around all throughout episode 3—and had that moment where she began to show her quality—that “acerbic” (Gimple’s words, not mine) when she fired that gun during the scuffle between Michonne and Merle.
But he also needed more. He needed more reasons to show how Beth was morphing into comic Andrea. When Mazzara put Andrea together with The Governor (which, from what I understand, did NOT happen in the comics), he had to step up his game and start laying the foundation for Beth to be able to fill these very big shoes. How to accomplish this? Fast forward to season 4—Beth gets paired up with the one person post-prison raid by The Governor who could teach her the very skills they lacked. She had already been taught how to fire a gun by Shane in season 2, and used this skill to kill walkers and to fire at The Governor’s people in “Too Far Gone” but now she needed an additional set of skills to survive in a lot world of deep Georgia back woods by herself. 4B was also where we really got to know Beth in her entirety. We saw her toughness in ways we had never seen before. We saw her resilience, her ability to face one of the most difficult to know people in the group, and opened up a part of him to the audience that we had never seen before. We saw Daryl Dixon, who Norman himself has said in the past “doesn’t need romance” start to get “a taste of” it during his time throughout “Inmates,” “Still,” and “Alone”. But more than that, we saw BETH HERSELF. This Beth that we hadn’t entirely seen before—in all her flaws and all her strength. The seeds we saw planted back in season 2—when the impetus of Andrea handing over her comic reins to Beth—happened.
Now I was sorry for Andrea’s going away, because I have been a fan of Laurie Holden’s for a number of years, and I truly believe that Mazzara did her wrong. She could have made it if she had made just one decision differently. But Gimple knew that this was going to be the case, so, in my estimation, started working hard, first as a writer, and then as show runner after his predecessor was fired for destroying Andrea, to set Beth up to be her successor much in the same way he was Mazzara’s. Once he had more creative control over the show, he started planning Beth’s “death,” which had to be bigger and more grandiose than Andrea’s was in the comics in order to fool hard core fans of the comics. And he succeeded. Because even though over last summer’s hiatus, we saw the Bethfoot photo and the high security in escorting certain members of the cast around—the now infamous hallway scene managed to shock us all enough so that we forgot all these things, because there is NO WAY someone could survive a gunshot to the head that was at that angle (and I mean the camera angles not just the angle of the actual trajectory)….right?
But consider this: comic Andrea sports a braid. When did Beth start sporting HER braid? Not until the prison. She never had it in season 2. Not once. This was a subtle change in her hairstyle that those of us who have not read the comics would not notice, and indeed even those who have read the comics did not even seem to pick up on it until after “Coda” aired. Then there are the obvious parallels (the scars, the incredible shooting of the walkers in the dark basement of the hospital which I made mention of months ago, the “Meet the new Beth Greene” on TTD after “Slabtown”). I believe that the “new” Beth Greene is comic Andrea with just a bit added to her so as to make her TV canon. The seeds were planted back in season 2, were growing into fruition in seasons 3 and 4, and are going to go into full bloom in the season 5 coda. Just as I pointed out awhile back (that some others have now noticed as well) that this whole thing was set up in the SDCC 2014 trailer for season 5, where we see what happened to TF then the screen went blank, then we see what happened to Beth. And indeed, what happened in season 5A? We saw what happened to TF at Terminus and the fallout from that and then episode 4 aired and we saw Beth wake up in GMH. What is happening in season 5B? We are seeing the fallout of what happened at GMH to TF and what’s left? If the mirror theories are true, then the only explanation is Beth. We are going to have to wait to see what happened to Beth, just as we did in the trailer, just as we did in season 5A. Is it well-executed? As a writer myself and as someone with a degree in English Literature, I would have to say no.
But TPTB ARE formulating a pattern. They ARE doing exactly in the episodes that they did in the trailer, and I don’t think this is just a coincidence. We sat through the first several minutes of that trailer thinking “Where’s Beth? What happened to Beth?” and here we are doing the EXACT same thing with a very very long wind-up during the entirety of 5B “Where’s Beth? What happened to her body? What went on during those now infamous 17 days?” I tell you, my brothers and sisters in Bethus, this is no accident. Did they overestimate themselves? Yes! Did they jump the shark? Yes! Could they have handled this whole thing better? Yes, yes, and ohhhh yes! But I cannot shake myself from thinking that what we are seeing is the culmination of Andrea handing over her comic storyline with some show elements thrown in to Beth in that moment in “18 Miles Out” when she opens Beth’s bedroom door and asks her “Is this what you want?” and then leaves the young woman there to decide her own fate. Which she did. Andrea was not just asking Beth if she really wanted to commit suicide in that scene. She is asking her—and us—if we wanted Beth to take over her comic counterpart. Given the fan base Beth—and EK—has collected over the years starting with that episode, I think we all know the answer to that.
As of today, Saturday, March 28, 2015, I choose to believe that Gimple did not dick us around. That he did indeed intend this to be a long-con, and that the payoff at the end will be HUGE for not only Beth and Bethyl fans, but also for the audience as a whole, when comic Andrea is reincarnated and resurrected as TV canon Beth. Because Andrea is one of THE most important (and Gimple’s favorite) characters in the comics, and Beth quickly became one of THE most important characters (at Gimple’s behest) in season 4B and 5A—and continues to be even though she has not PHYSICALLY appeared on our screens since the MSF.
However, seeing as how terrible the writing has been throughout the entirety of the season, particularly the second half, I am going to also put in the disclaimer that—if in the off-chance we are wrong and Gimple has indeed committed a terrible folly against the very fan base he helped to build up in season 4, then I am done watching the show. Or at the very least I will go back to being the casual viewer I was in seasons 1 and 2. Because if I cannot trust the TPTB with one of my favorite characters, what are they going to do with my other favorites? I mean they are already destroying Rick by making him go “full Shane,” they are turning Carol into a psycho who frightens children, and don’t even get me started on the poor blubbering Daryl. Here they thought that a relationship with Beth was going to be the thing that made him lose his edge, when in fact it is THE LOSS of her that had him self-harming and breaking down and crying like a little girl. Let it be known to one and all that I have stopped watching shows before when they reduced my favorite character to ash—and if I choose to go this route, my mourning will take a turn away from “I miss Beth” to “I miss the show that used to excite me for two and a half seasons” because it was, and could have been better.
Until tomorrow night though I choose to believe the former—that this, ALL of this—was no accident. That there will be a pay-off at the end. That Andrea is Beth and Beth is Andrea, and that the epic arc of Andrea will play out on our screens, that we WILL get that romance that everyone involved has been alluding to ever since Daryl uttered the words “We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go” at the end of the MSF in 4A. That comic Rick and Andrea will be show Beth and Daryl. I have hope and faith that these writers—as sneaky and slimy as they have been—will not torture us through another long, seven-month hiatus. That they are not going to overplay the hand they have been dealt. That the “beats (Norman) wanted to play in-between” he is getting, just not in the way that we thought, are going to play out on our screens come season 6. That Beth is our ray of sunshine that can also kick your ass will be shown in the last few minutes of tomorrow night’s episode by opening her eyes and escaping GMH with perhaps Dr. Edwards in-tow (as shown in that flash just before the credits) will BE THERE. That she will indeed “save herself” (which is maybe why TF couldn’t rescue her—because they weren’t MEANT TO?) as prophesized by Daryl himself in “Consumed”. That none of this was an accident and was all as pre-meditated as we have been speculating since December 1st.
That we lost an Andrea but gained a Beth. That would be the best gift Gimple and his minions could give us during the hiatus.

Reality Bites

[One shot Frostiron] 

Sometimes he woke up and was just a nightmare. Sometimes he woke up and it wasn’t the dreams that were the nightmare, but reality. He still couldn’t decide which was the worst of the two morning rituals he had been forced to go through since his tryst with the terrorists.

Maybe he could blame his inventor brain for such vivid dreams, or maybe he could go full Freud and blame his father. The second one held more appeal, so if anyone asked he would say it was his daddy’s fault. If anyone bothered to ask.

Which they wouldn’t, since most of them didn’t even know he had nightmares, or night terrors, or sleep walking, or waking up screaming and ready to attack anything that moved. The only person who had any inkling was Pepper, and she had long since stopped sharing a bed with him for the very same reasons. Those reasons also drove her to stop sharing half of her life with him, and settle back into a slightly uneasy friendship.

Surprisingly, he didn’t take it that hard. His lack of reaction might have been the reason things were still rocky between, even after three years. Maybe she had expected him to beg for her to come back, or cry, or scream, or do something more Tony-esk.

But he didn’t. For two reasons.

One, he knew somewhere in his gut that this was the way things were supposed to be, and two, he had more important things on his mind other than a failed relationship. Things like a slew of attacks in South America from, what most of the reports claimed to be, zombies. Ancient Aztec zombies.

Strike that off the list of things to do before you die.

They handled that pretty smoothly, thanks to Thor and his rather explosive lightning. It came in handy when he wasn’t stomping around the tower in a foul mood, shooting sparks from his eyes.

That’s where ‘important thing’ number two came in. Thor and his bad moods stemmed from another god and his bad moods. At least with Loki, no one got shocked every ten minutes. They just got turned into an animal, or stung by bees, or had their hair color changed, or got bitten.

Yes, bitten.

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