and while she looks so bad in photographs

New York, New York

Just spat this out, so there’s no proof reading or anything. Hope you guys like it!


This one is about rediscovering what you love in someone.


“Time t'leave, babe.” Harry told you as he grabbed his wallet, the key to your hotel room and his shades, hand running through his long hair before popping a beanie over it as you watched his languid movements.

He was clad in Packers gear, the green hoodie paired with a bright green beanie, hair curling around his ears, a coat on top and his long toned legs clad in his usual black skinny jeans, his tan boots giving him even more leverage over you. You draped your scarf around your neck while you stared at him, eyes roaming the length of his body and fixing on the way his green eyes stood out to you because of all the green on his outfit. 

Harry was in a mood, that you were sure of. Not really up for talking, lips in a tight line, frown on his forehead and eyes dark like a storm and you understood that just from looking at his demeanor. You weren’t in a mood to talk yourself. In fact, if it were up to you, you two would be cuddled back in bed, clothes nowhere near your body as you two got reacquainted with each other’s body’s again. You didn’t get to do that, unfortunately.

With work stuff and your individual lives as busy as ever, you two hadn’t had the time to just be together for a while. You got in for work at 8am and got back home at 7, when Harry was just about leaving for an event or something of the sort. Along with that, the studio sessions and meetings took over his day and when he got back home, usually at some ungodly hour, when it was almost close to the time you needed to be up to start your day, you were sound asleep, head buried deep into his pillow and a hand clutching into the shirt of his you decided to wear to bed as a way of keeping him close, even when he wasn’t within reach.

Harry was disgruntled and haunted by the vision, no matter where he was. At the studio, singing his heart out until his voice was hoarse and tired, his skin prickling and heart heavy on his chest from how much he missed you. During an event, when all he wanted was to have you in his arms, to make the boring speeches and excessive amount of rubbing elbows with important people a little more bearable. Every hour, of every day, he was missing you, no matter where he was and what he was doing. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi can you write some hcs with the six of them in a high school au with all the ships if you cant its fine

k here we go

- kaz is definitely the shifty kid that everyone sort of avoids because they don’t want him to ruin their existence. but, of course, he is the person others come to whenever they need something which might not be 100% legal (or even 10% legal lmao)

- jesper is kaz’s mainstay and the two of them are forever getting into trouble.

- he is also notorious for sleeping around and it seems that nobody can resist him. no seriously, he once seduced the #nohomo dudebro quarterback at a party. 

- nina is taken out of her fancy private day-school because of her father’s new job and is shocked at what a mess her new high school in ketterdam is.

- within her first few days there kaz approaches her at lunch and sits himself down opposite her.

- round about the same time inej also switches to this school because she absolutely hated her old high school. 

- kaz “i am immune to anybody’s charms” brekker looks at her once and decides that she will become a part of his surprisingly successful business in dealing pot and blackmail-worthy gossip and never getting caught.

- our boy also keeps getting dress-coded for wearing his black leather gloves. but he’s just disgusted by all the dirt and the dirty people lmao

- apparently kaz is a gang member, but who even knows.

- the innocent exchange student matthias is SHOOK when he arrives in ketterdam high school and sees what he has just signed up for. 

- the second she sees him, nina makes a beeline for matthias. she asks him to homecoming and prom with 0 shame and he is SO turned on by it omg. (he’s used to being in charge and is a go-getter + he’s super masculine to look at and not the most approachable guy)

- wylan is the shy artsy type who was taken out of his ridiculously expensive private school because of bad exam results.

- jesper loves making wylan blush bc a.) he’s very very cute and b.) jesper just can’t help himself

- wylan’s bad exam results continue, but he is incredible at music and is in the marching band (sadly, people see it as another reason to make fun of him???) and jesper feels bad about embarrassing wylan by his flirting. so he talks to him and the two immediately click. 

- kaz aces every exam without ever studying, inej is impressed while poring over books for hours on end. she is definitely the studious type.

- she gets mad kaz for wanting to take her on indefinitely long roadtrips all the time because, unlike him, she doesn’t have a photographic memory

- kaz thinks school pride is nonsense, as is the fuss made over football. he still goes to every game to look down, despising everything (inej is a cheerleader so our boy can fool nobody about why exactly he goes to the games)

- they always walk around school in dramatic triangle formation with kaz at the tip

- nobody dares to tease wylan after kaz starts hanging around with him. honestly, being one of kaz’s crew is like a protective shield bc everybody fears him. (i don’t want to go into how many dark secrets he exposed and thereby ruined people’s lives)

- every single sports team is pushing matthias to join them and he’s like “please leave me alone”

Hello Detective (Sherlock) Chapter 32

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   Part 22   Part 23   Part 24   Part 25   Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33   Part 34   Part 35   Part 36   Part 37   Part 38  Part 39   Part 40     Part 41   Part 42   Part 43   Part 44   Part 45   Part 46   Part 47   Part 48   Part 49   Part 50  Part 51  Part 52 Part 53  Part 54  Part 55   Part 56  Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61

A week passed and you went back to work. You could tell Lestrade was still curious about what was going on with Sherlock and what had happened at Irene Adler’s house. One morning you were off work and you got a call from Mrs. Hudson asking you to help her grocery shopping since she was shopping for Sherlock and John too. You met her at the store and when you got back to Baker Street you walked up the stairs to the flat, bags in hand.

“Morning.” you said, putting the bags in the kitchen.

You turned your head to the living room. You saw Sherlock sitting where clients usually sit, John was at his desk, and Irene Adler was sitting in Sherlock’s black chair.

“Ah just who I was hoping would show up, hello Sergeant Gregson.” Irene said.

“Miss Adler.” You nodded, while placing all the bags on the counter.

“Where’s my camera-phone?” Irene asked.

“It’s not here. We’re not stupid.” John said.

“Then what have you done with it? If they’ve guessed you’ve got it, they’ll be watching you.” Irene said.

“If they’ve been watching me, they’ll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand.” Sherlock lied.

“I need it.” Irene said as you took a seat in John’s chair.

“Molly Hooper, she could collect it, and take it to Barts. Then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the cafe and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.” John offered.

“Very good, John, excellent plan, full of intelligent precautions.” Sherlock said.

“Thank you, so why don’t I phone…” John began but let out an annoyed sigh when Sherlock pulled the camera phone  out of his pocket.

“So, what do you keep on here? In general, I mean?” Sherlock asked Irene.

“Pictures, information, anything I might find useful.” Irene said.

“For blackmail?” You asked.

“For protection.” She said and you rolled your eyes. “I make my way in the world, I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be.”

“So how do you acquire this information?” Sherlock asked her.

“I told you, I misbehave.” Irene said.

“But you’ve acquired something more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?” You asked Irene.

“Yes. But I don’t understand it.” Irene said.

“Show me.” Sherlock said. She stuck out her hand for the phone.

“The passcode.” Sherlock said, refusing to give it to her. She extended her hand further, Sherlock gave in and placed the phone in her hand. She smiled and typed the passcode in, beeping loudly when it was incorrect.

“It’s not working.” Irene said, confused.

“No, because it’s a duplicate which I had made into which you’ve just entered the numbers 1058.” Sherlock said, taking the phone out of her hand. “I assumed you’d chose something more specific than that but thanks anyway.”

Sherlock walked towards you, sticking his hand out for you to take it. You did, confused, and he pulled you effortlessly to your feet. He then stuck his hand under the seat cushion of John’s chair and retrieved the real camera phone. He placed a kiss on your cheek as he ushered you back into your chair.

He typed 1058 into the real camera phone but it still said it was incorrect.

“I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it’s in my hand.” Irene said.

“Oh, you’re rather good.” Sherlock complemented her.

“You’re not so bad.” She returned.

“Hamish.” John suddenly said, to fill the awkward silence in the room while Irene and Sherlock were having a stare down. “John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names.”

You laughed as John sat back in his seat.

“There was a man, an MOD official and I knew what he liked. One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn’t know it, but I photographed it. He was a bit tied up at the time.” Irene said. You shared a look with John. Irene handed the phone to Sherlock so he could read the email.

“It’s a bit small on that screen, can you read it?” Irene asked.

“Yes.” sherlock answered.

“Code, obviously.” Irene said again. “I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside-down, as I recall. Couldn’t figure it out.”

You stood from your chair and moved so you were standing next to John at his desk. You placed your hand on it and stared at Sherlock who was now sitting across from you.

“What can you do, Mr. Holmes?” Irene asked.

“There’s a margin for error, but I’m pretty sure there’s a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6:30 in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it’s going to save the world, I’m not sure how that could be true, but give me a moment, I’ve only been on the case for eight seconds.” Sherlock said, everyone staring at him. Was he trying to show off?

“Oh come on, it’s not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look! There’s no letter I because it can be mistaken for a one. No letters past K, the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence, but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place. Families and couples sitting together. Only a jumbo is wide enough to need a letter K or rows past 55, which is why there’s always an upstairs. There’s a row 13 which eliminated the more superstitious airlines. Then there’s the style of the flight number, 007, that eliminates a few more. And assuming the British point of origin, which would be logical, considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6:30 to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow airport.” Sherlock said with record speed. He turned and handed the phone back to Irene.

“Please don’t feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John’s expressed that thought in every possible variant available to the English language.” Sherlock said.

“I would have you right here, on this desk, until you begged for mercy twice.” Irene said to Sherlock, causing John to nearly choke on his tea.

“John, please could you check those flight schedules to see if I’m right?” Sherlock said.

“Yeah, I’m on it, yeah.” John said awkwardly.

“I’ve never begged for mercy in my life.” Sherlock said.

“I beg to differ.” You said with a smirk, John turned to you, eyes wide, before returning back to the computer. Irene bit her lip and turned to you, looking you up and down. You raised an eyebrow to her.

“Uh, you’re right, flight double-O seven.” John said.

“What did you say?” Sherlock asked again.

“You’re right.” John repeated.

“No, no, after that, what did you say after that?” Sherlock said.

“007. Flight 007.” John repeated. Sherlock frantically began trying to remember where he had heard that before. The thought popped into your head. Bond Air is go. Mycroft was on the phone here weeks ago and said, Bond Air is go, check with the coventry lot. James Bond was MI6 agent 007.

Sherlock kept repeating 007 and mumbling as he walked into the hallway, you followed him, leaving John and Irene in the living room.

“Bond Air is go.” You said to him, once you were in the hallway. Sherlock turned to you, eyes wide.

“That’s it, quickly, tell me, where have I heard that.” Sherlock said, unknowingly pushing you against the wall.

“Mycroft, right here, he was on the phone and he said’ Bond Air is go, that’s decided. Check with the coventry lot.’” You told him.

“Yes, that’s it!” Sherlock said, kissing you. “God, I love you.” He said casually, your eye’s grew wide and your mouth fell open as Sherlock walked back into the living room. He had never said those words before. He’d said variations, which were all great, but he’d never said those three words.

Sherlock was now sitting in his chair, in his mind palace, stroking his violin. A few hours had passed.You and John left to grab some food, leaving Sherlock in his mind palace. When Sherlock goes into his mind palace, it’s best to just leave. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t move, he hardly breathes. So when he opened his eyes and said the word “Coventry”, he was surprised to see Irene Adler sitting in front of him and not yourself.

“I’ve never been.” Irene answered, sitting opposite of him in John’s chair. “Is it nice?”

“Where’s John and Y/N?” He asked confused.

“They went out, a couple of hours ago.” She answered.

“I was just talking to them.” He said.

“They said you do that.” Irene said.

“What’s Coventry got to do with anything?” She asked.

“It’s a story. Probable not true. In the Second World War the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they’d broken the German code but they didn’t want the Germans to know that they’d broken the code so they let it happen anyway.” sherlock explained.

“Have you ever had anyone?” She asked.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock asked, confused.

“And when I say had, I’m being indelicate.” She said again.

“I don’t understand.” sherlock said.

“I’ll be delicate, then. Let’s have dinner.” She said as she moved to kneel in front of him, placing her hand over his.

“Why?” He asked.

“You might be hungry.” She said.

“I’m not.” He said.

“Good.” Irene smiled.

“Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry?” Sherlock asked, shifting his hand so he was holding her wrist, little did she know, he was taking her pulse.

“If it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?” She asked.

“Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson called from down the stairs.

“Too late.” Irene said, moving back.

“That’s not the end of the world, that’s Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said.

“Sherlock, this man was at the door. Is the bell still not working? He shot it.” Mrs. Hudson told the same man that came to take him away to Buckingham Palace a few weeks ago.

“Have you come to take me away again?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, Mr. Holmes.” The secret service man told him.

“Well, I decline.” Sherlock said.

“I don’t think you do.” He said, handing Sherlock as plane ticket for flight 007.

After a quick bite with John, you went back to your flat to change into a dress before going to find Mycroft, hoping he was at his office. You didn’t trust this Irene Adler woman and you didn’t like the thought of her knowing this top secret information. She was mildly intelligent, but not intelligent enough to be working on her own. You were afraid of a partnership with someone bad, possibly even James Moriarty.

You found Mycroft in his office, with his head in his hands.

“Y/N?” He asked, when he noticed you entered the room.

“Irene Adler is back. She’d stolen an email from some MOD man who hired her. It was seat allocations for flight 007. ‘Bond Air’?” You asked him.

Mycroft only sighed and slid his phone across the table to you. On the screen was a text from James Moriarty. It read- JUMBO JET. DEAR ME, MR. HOLMES, DEAR ME. You shook your head in disbelief. You were right, Irene Adler had given the information Sherlock so willingly gave her to James Moriarty.

“Will you come with me?” Mycroft asked. You nodded. Together you got in a car that took you to Heathrow airport. When you were in the car, he told you the same Coventry story that unbeknownst to you, Sherlock had also told Irene.

When you arrived at the airport the car was driven right to the back where you and Mycroft stepped onto Flight 007. Inside, the lights were off, but the flight was completely full. You bent down to look at one person, and stumbled back slightly when you discovered they were all dead. A few minutes passed and you heard one of the dividers slide open. You followed Mycroft out to the sound.

“The Coventry conundrum. What do you think of my solution? The flight of the dead.” Mycroft asked Sherlock, making him jump a bit when he stepped out. You stepped out next to him in the wide aisle. Sherlock gave you a confused look, you only looked away.

“Plane blows up mid air, mission accomplished for the terrorists, hundreds of casualties but nobody dies.” Sherlock said.

“Neat, don’t you think?” Mycroft asked.”You two have been stumbling around the fringes of this one for ages. Or were you too bored to notice the pattern. We ran a similar project with the Germans a while back, though I believe one of our passengers didn’t make the flight.”

You remembered that case. You found a body in the trunk of a car that was technically already checked on the plane, a plane which had already crashed a day before, thousands of miles away.

“But that’s the deceased for you, late, in every sense of the word.” Mycroft said.

“How’s the plane going to fly. Oh, of course, unmanned aircraft, hardly new.” Sherlock said.

“It doesn’t fly. It will never fly.” You said, disappointedly. Sherlock looked to you confused.

“This entire project is cancelled. The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb. We can’t fool them now. We’ve lost everything.” Mycroft explained.

“Were you in on this too?” Sherlock asked you.

“No, you idiot, she was trying to do the right thing. One fragment of one email and months and years of planning, finished.” Mycroft said.

“Your MOD man.” Sherlock said, nodding.

“That’s all it takes. One lonely, naive man, desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.” Mycroft said, Sherlock assumed he was talking about the MOD man.

“You should screen your defence people more carefully.” Sherlock said, casually.

“I’m not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock! I’m talking about you!” Mycroft yelled. “A damsel in distress. In the end, are you really so obvious? Because this was textbook. The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption. Then give him a puzzle and watch him dance.”

“Don’t be absurd!” Sherlock shot back.

“Absurd? How quickly did you decipher that email for her? Was it the full minute? Or were you really eager to impress?” Mycroft asked.

“I’d say it was less than five seconds.” Irene Adler said, now appearing behind Sherlock.

“I drove you into her path. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Mycroft said.

“Mr. Holmes, I think we need to talk.” Irene said.

“So do I. There are a number of aspects I’m still not quite clear on.” Sherlock said.

“Not you, junior, you’re done now.” Irene said, walking past Sherlock. You began walking towards Sherlock, passing Irene in the middle of the aisle, giving her your best death stare.

“There’s more, loads more. On this phone I’ve got secrets and pictures and scandals that could topple your whole world. You have no idea how much havoc I can cause and exactly one way to stop me. Unless you want to tell your masters that your biggest security leak is your own little brother.” Irene said, and you saw fear flash across Mycroft’s eye.

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked you, now standing in front of him.

“I tried to do the right thing, but I was too late. She was using you. When she’d gotten what she wanted, she gave the information to James Moriarty.” You said, looking down to the floor.

“And I spread the pictures out for her to look at, and she studied them. Those were stunning photos of her. She was the most beautiful woman on the lot, absolutely, nobody compared to her. But not only that, she couldn’t take a bad picture. And that was rare, you know, everybody has a bad side. And she looked at the pictures for a little while – and she said:"Jeez, from the way people went on so, I thought I was better-looking than that…”

- MGM photographer

whats up with aria

like hanna tore apart her room bc she couldn’t even look at it, emily went gun shooting because she didn’t feel safe, spencer was having such bad nightmares that she has to steal pills to sleep, while aria was going to the brew and taking photographs like ??? the only time we saw aria have a flashback was one from when she first got to the dollhouse so now im wondering if aria was even tortured in that room… oh and bonus: she keeps on trying to pin everything on andrew even though she knows andrews not A so maybe shes actually helping A…

I’ve just had a thought… I saw a tweet saying ‘Ashton takes Bryana to all these different cool places but Luke just takes Arzaylea to the same place every night’ which got me thinking… Maybe it isn’t Luke who is the one deciding to go to The Nice Guy every night. If she is who we think she is, maybe it’s her. The Nice Guy is well known for the paparazzi being there like 24/7, and if she wants fame so bad I think she would go to any extent to get it, which means dragging Luke along for the ride. Twice in a few days they’ve been photographed together there. And the one of them holding hands, she had a smirk on her face while Luke looked flustered and extremely uncomfortable. He let go of her hand while she was still clutching his. I doubt Luke knew what he was doing - he is a sensible person and has been brought up by a good family with good morals. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt us intentionally which makes me think it’s her. I really think she is using him, I’m so worried for him.

anonymous asked:

I don't understand why feminist say, that women are objectified or sexualized in media - because for me, this is forgetting, that women in the photos, advertisments etc. are real people, who willingly consented to have their bodies pictured in sexual way. These women ave their own brains and they made choices they thought were good for them. Don't you think women should be allowed to do what they want, even if it is showing their boobs in order to sell something?

While this is true there are a lot of different factors that go into the media. For starts there is the fact that the model you see in an advertisement is not even herself anymore, she has been so transformed by computers and photoshop that she would not even recognize herself and while she has consented to this she also has agreed because she knows that they will make her look “beautiful”. Which brings me to my second point, women are programed to want to do anything that makes them seem beautiful and sexy. It doesn’t matter if what they are doing is bad for them, or other women, they have an insatiable need to be found attractive. This has happened BECAUSE of the way women have always been portrayed in media for years. So yes, women consent to having their photos taken, and yes they know what will be done with these photographs, but it doesn’t matter whether or not they do it so much as it matters why they do it. Thanks for the question!

-The Daily Feminist 

Plots Bunnies: 5sos Edition (Pt. 1)
  • 18: Muse A is a famous singer who is known for having a lot of lovers while Muse B is her biggest fan. He goes to all her concerts and has all her merchandise — also, he is deeply in love with her even though she’s much older than him. One day, Muse A goes out of the tour bus to smoke and finds Muse B outside. She doesn’t believe in love but she offers him a deal: He’ll be her groupie, but it must be a secret because he’s an under-age.
  • Daylight: Muse A is a rich kid, he is mean and selfish. He usually treats the no-popular people like they’re nothing, but he keeps a secret: He’s obsessed with the supernatural world and usually spends hours playing on the web. Muse B is a freak, a total gamer and a nerd. She is one of the victims of Muse A but she has the feeling that he’s hiding something. One night, behind pseudonyms, both find themselves in a video game and start talking without knowing who is the other.
  • Good Girls (Are Bad Girls): Muse A is an straight A’s student, she’s the president of the class and is Miss First Place. Muse B is the second in everything, he hates Muse A for being better in everything. One night, while Muse B walks in front of Muse A’s house, he sees that she’s leaving her bedroom through the window and running to some place. He follows her just to find out Muse A is the leader of a nightly gang.
  • She Looks So Perfect: Muse A is a photographer and Muse B is a girl who is looking to rise as a model. She goes to Muse A studio and makes a casting photoset; two days later Muse A calls Muse B to tell her that she’s going to be his new underwear model.
  • Long Way Home: Muse A, Muse B (and Muse C) are friends and classmates since they were kids. One day, after their graduation, they decide they’re going to travel around the country for their holidays before they go to college. Everything is perfect until Muse B gets engaged with Muse D and has to spend all his summer holidays with his future wife.
  • Lost Boy: Muse A and Muse B have been dating for three years after a love-hate relationship and they’re already thinking about moving on together and getting married. The thing is that, in a car accident, Muse B loses his memory and he can’t remember Muse A as his partner but as his enemy. She has to be strong and make a decision: she can let him recover his memory by himself or she can try to help him, even though he thinks they hate each other. 
  • Rejects: Muse A, B, C and D are part of a gang and spend their days making fun of their classmates, stealing and smoking at the back of the school. They own the town until one day another gang comes: Muse E, F, G and H are a girl-gang that wants to have the control of the place. A new war between both gangs starts.
  • Out Of My Limit: Muse B is the president of the class and Muse A is her assistant. She only thinks about the future of the school and the students — He only thinks about he. Muse A knows it’s impossible a relationship with Muse B because of her politic of not dating anyone who works with her. But he’s not going to let that stop him from trying to ask her out.
  • Amnesia: Muse A and B are friends for years and they’re making plans to go to college together. Muse A is decided to confess his feelings for Muse B after the graduation but they find out that Muse B’s father has to move on for a new job. This is going to be their last year together before Muse B moves on to another city.
  • Disconnected: In a world full of technology and fast food, Muse A and B believe that there’s nothing more beautiful than the nature and what it gives to the humans. They spend their days out doors, ignoring people calling them hippies as an insult and having a vegan life until Muse A has a new job as the leader of a brand new industrial company, which is completely against their beliefs.
Submit: Deduce this

Remember when the BAFTAs happened at the beginning of February? Remember when PissyBatch turned into SmugBatch for the night? Remember when people lip-read her saying “You’ll pay for this” during the photos on the red carpet?

Do you remember a few folks saying at the BAFTAs that Harvey Weinstein looked ready to murder someone?

Then do you remember that soon afterward we had DeadEyeBatch and a wedding only a week before the Oscars?

Don’t forget the BI about some legal paperwork that had to be made ready before said wedding.

Also note that Judge Rinder rocked up to said wedding as one of three best men. Then he rocked up again to that royal shindig after the wedding where he was photographed with the newly married couple.

Now think about how often you’ve seen DeadEyeBatch trying so desperately to sell this “marriage”. PDA. Photos. Gripping her neck or shoulder tightly as if he wants to kill her all while he’s smiling or kissing her. Think about the surprised looks on the faces of people who actually know him when they see him do this. As bad as he looks, even she is starting to look haggard in their appearances together.

Now you ask yourself why doesn’t he just go with “not my baby”? Why did he do a wedding when even the people who were close to him thought he wouldn’t (and tried to stop him but obviously couldn’t)? Why is he bothering to even continue this after the Oscars? And, of course, why are things ramping up but no blood is being spilt in the tabloids?

She made a mistake that nearly exposed to all and sundry how ultimately non-pregnant she really was around the time of the BAFTAs (hello Vogue shoot and Anna Wintour at the Paris fashion show!). It certainly did to Harvey and Benedict - and the sceptics who have been eyeing this whole charade. But they couldn’t let the cat out of the bag because the Oscars were so, so close. Benedict mistakenly thought that he “had her”. She couldn’t stick him with a baby that doesn’t exist! Could she?

Her contract with the Weinstein Company was up the day after the Oscars. Who was going to be her money train now?

Her revenge was to threaten to expose the sham - including the part she had helped to create, mind you -  before the Oscars while voting continued to take place. Yes, that would have broken her contract with the Weinstein Company prematurely. But she was taking a gamble that Benedict would do anything to keep her mouth shut.

She won the bet.

So why does he continue (and very badly) to sell this? Why not go with “not my baby”? And why won’t we likely see an actual split before February of next year?

Because he’s under contract.

A contract he was made to sign before witnesses inside a church to make it look like a wedding to the general public.

A legally binding contract he can’t get out of for at least one more year.

And it’s likely that if she breaks the contract, she gets nothing. If he breaks the contract, she gets everything.

That means they are going to make each other as miserable as possible over the course of the next year as each of them try to break the other.



Ballsy:   Interesting …  fits a lot of things … possible …  adds to Theory Pile.

A fair bit is conjecture tho.  We don’t actually know what she said at the BAFTAs, could be that, might be something else.  Contract signed at Church instead?   Three witnesses instead of Best Men?   Maybe.

One year contract?  Why not 6 months?  (Yes, being hopeful there).  If that’s the case - Valentine’s Day is more than dead to him.

Fits with the sudden appearance of a “real” looking bump tho.  Fixing her error?   

Question is, if this is the case - will either of them be able to continue this little PR cat & mouse game of theirs, and not have it exposed/fall over/his health decline too far - for another 8+ months?