drop plates

some holt family headcanons bc im die whenever i think abt them and the poster had me???? emotional here we go

  • matt and pidge have that thing where one of them poses a theoretical science question out of the blue and the other responds to it without fail
    • matt asks most of the time
    • “[drops fork on plate in the middle of eating dinner] do u think everett’s many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics has a world where the theory itself doesn’t exist and therefore disputes the whole reality of multiple universes coexisting w one another altogether and only has that one universe existing alone?”
    • “i mean given that the whole point of the multiple universe theory is that there’s gonna be at least one universe where something that’s real in one isn’t real in an-”
    • “children we’re eating”
  • one time mama holt got matt and pidge’s names mixed up while she was calling them for dinner and accidentally screamed “MATIE” and they never let her forget it
  • whenever pidge invents something she always Always shows it to matt first and each and every single time he gasps and his eyes light up and he just holds the thing in awe saying “what the fuck???? what the fuck What the Fuck WHAT!!!!!!” and pidge just has the biggest cheesiest grin on her face
  • every time matt and papa holt go out to head to the garrison pidge and mama holt stand by the open door w their dog and watch them go
    • matt and papa holt look back at them at least twice and smile and wave both times. pidge and mama holt always wave back no matter what
  • whenever they go out on a family date pidge and matt always walk behind their parents bc they love seeing them hold hands
  • pidge and matt might do literally anything for every single member of their family but they also roast them to no end???
    • “i know u love those peas dad” was only the tip of the iceberg
    • mom holt: u two watch too much ancient aliens matt: i saw u marathon 12 michael jackson conspiracy theory videos in a row mom mom holt: he’s alive, matthew
    • dad holt: each and every single star we see is in our sky is distinct and unique in its nature and interchanging them w one another is pure atrocity pidge: dad just last night u confused astronomy w astrology
    • their dog: sighs matt & pidge at the same time: same
    • matt: [flipping thru pidge’s baby pic album] darwin’s theory of evolution is so beautiful :)
    • matt: [trying to style his hair by constantly ruffling it on the dining table before heading to the garrison] pidge, eating her peas: this is the most intense form of pretentious dishevelment i have ever seen in my life

i just love the concept of stiles not being aware of his own attractiveness like

doesn’t notice immediately how his body has filled out in all the right places when he finally hits the big 18

doesn’t notice derek almost dropping several plates while they do the dishes at a pack meeting and stiles stretching lazily, arms high up in the air, shirt riding up, exposing his happy trail and sharp hipbones

doesn’t notice derek almost having an aneurism when stiles licks ice cream straight off those god damn fingers on a hot summer day

doesn’t notice the wood of the headboard of derek’s bed splintering under his palm when stiles bends over and down to pick up a college book that he dropped off the bed while doing homework at derek’s loft

doesn’t notice the ridiculous pink colour of the tips of derek’s ears when stiles shucks his shirt full of grime and blood in front of him after getting rid of the monster of the week

he does notice derek getting pissier and more irritated with him, avoiding him a little, clipped off answers and avoiding eye contact, bitching at him even more than usual and stiles just yells right back, “what the fuck is your problem lately, dude?!”, slightly hurt; he thought they were past this, and derek can smell doubt and slight fear on him, and that’s the fucking final straw and derek just backs him up against the door of stiles’ room, grabbing stiles’ face in both of his huge palms, snarling “you, you and your god damn– everything! your stupid forearms -and don’t even get me started on those stupid fingers- and your dumb pretty brown eyes and that god damn mouth of yours and y–”, he doesn’t get much further than that though, too busy being mauled by said mouth. 

not that he’s complaining. not anymore.

Alicia as Check Please Fan: the trope

Jack never learned that his mother watched Bitty’s vlog religiously until after he told her that he and Eric Bittle were dating.

She promptly smacked herself on the forehead and said: “oh, you’re the straight boy. The poor darling.” Then she looked embarrassed and said. “Forget I said that. We’re delighted for you both, Jack.”

It seemed like such a strange thing for her to say though, and he later repeated it to Bitty, who went bright red, mumbled AliciaZimmermannwatchesmyvlogexcusemeIhavetodeleteeverything and nearly dropped a plate of scones.

@owl-librarian Can we have Jack/Bitty’s proposal  now?! Was it embarrassing or adorable? OR both?

I figure Bitty has had a terrible day at work. Nothing is going right. He’s burned a pie. He’s dropped a plate of cookies. Some asshole customer has yelled at him for accidentally giving them back the incorrect amount of change. 

Jack is at practice or something so he can’t pick up the phone when Bitty calls him but he gets listens to his five minute long voice mail while sitting in the locker room, half dressed and telling his teammates that he can’t go out tonight because something has come up. 

He calls Bitty back but it goes right to voice mail because he had to go back to work and he has to stay late because he’s fallen behind for tomorrow’s orders and he didn’t want to be distracted by twitter….

So Jack shows up at the bakery with a bag of take out from their favorite little hole in the wall diner and the door is locked and the lights in the front are off but if he cups his hands to the glass and presses his face against it he can see light coming from under the kitchen door. 

 Bitty’s phone is still off so he has to bang on the glass and after awhile the kitchen door swings open and Bitty comes storming out with flour all over his apron and face and he looks pissed because he’s just done with people for the next seventy years. But he softens instantly when he sees Jack and the food and the look on Jack’s face that slips between worry and fondness and back again. 

“I had a long day, honey,” Bitty says into Jack’s chest when he wraps his arms around his middle.

Jack takes two chairs off the table by the window and they eat their dinner by the light of the street lamps.

Bitty keeps his foot hooked around Jack’s ankle and Jack let’s Bitty eat one of his chicken tenders. (it’s true fucking love you guys)

So after dinner Bitty expects Jack to go home because he had a long day too but Jack follows him into the kitchen and helps him roll out dough and make pie filling and press sprinkles onto the tops of cookies.

He screws up a lot. Bitty laughs a lot. He helps Jack fix his mistakes and Jack really pays attention and does so much better the next time he tries it. 

Bitty leans up on his toes and presses a kiss to his cheek then smooths back Jack’s hair, tucking a strand of it behind his ear. It’s getting a little long. There’s a streak of flour in it and Bitty’s ready to chirp him about going grey and getting old but….

Jack sighs and leans into the touch but most of his focus is on the lattice work in front of him and Bitty thinks about the first time they did this years ago in the kitchen of the Haus. They haven’t been back in a few years. Everyone’s graduated. Bitty doesn’t know the name of anyone on the team. 

And it hurts but maybe that’s okay. 

Maybe they’re not meant to know.

The Haus is holding onto new memories along with the old ones.

There might be new names on the chore wheel but Shitty’s by-laws are still written on the wall in the basement. 

They might only come into the kitchen to heat up Ramen but Bitty’s oven is still there. 

Maybe someone else will fall in love in that kitchen. 

Right in front of that oven. 

Maybe it’s happening right now. 

Jack bumps his hip into Bitty’s. 

Jack says “how does this look?” at the same time Bitty says “will you marry me?” 

And then Bitty says “it looks great, sweetpea” at the same time Jack says “yes.” 

Sangwoo trusts him with a knife.

He thinks about this now just as he has been thinking about it for days. When Sangwoo is not in the kitchen Yoonbum might even lift it from the chopping board as if to practise wielding it, but all it does is wobble in his unsteady hand.

It’s been…how long has it been, since Sangwoo dropped him into a swivel chair and placed the knife in his hand? He doesn’t know. All he can remember is that his palm had been soft, and his fingers gentle. They had pushed the hair out of his face and left his cheeks glowing.

They had glowed again later to be sure; glowed with the red hot force of Sangwoo’s palm - returned again with its second face.

Every error in the kitchen had its consequence. He began to experience them so routinely that he memorised them. A dropped plate brought him smarting cheeks. Overcooked meat was pulled hair. A failure to respond was a sharp pinch of his flesh, fleshy half-moons in his skin.

If he wanted - really wanted - a cut across his thigh, all he would have to do is break a cup and wait for Sangwoo to locate the sharpest shard.

To his mind, with this knowledge he almost had a type of control over Sangwoo. That was his small and solitary solace.

Madness is when time becomes everything and nothing. He uses time as a measure - of pain, of progress, of opportunity to escape. His life is defined by it, but it has no real weight. He cannot place himself.

He wonders about the knife. It was a test to be sure. Or did Sangwoo really have that much faith in him? He hadn’t seemed suspicious…and before that Yoonbum had done his duties well. Pride rushes up his spine, and he straightens with it. It was possible that…

What other privileges could he win, with time? Perhaps Sangwoo would let him sleep upstairs…perhaps more…

Perhaps – a voice pushes in – perhaps it didn’t imply trust at all. Perhaps Sangwoo knew he was eternally useless with a knife – that’s all.

He deflates, shoulders dropping.

His hand grips the handle of the knife tightly. He’d just have to learn to fight.

Behind him, Sangwoo speaks up from the table where he had been flipping through a magazine. “You know what I just remembered?” he asks in a way that makes Yoonbum – shocked out of his stupor – wholly suspicious. A chill settles over him.

“That time in the basement when you pissed yourself from fear. I had to hose you down like a dog, you were so pathetic! And all I did was nick you a little with a can.” He laughs loudly at this, and his eyes are bright.

Yoonbum stiffens, but forces a smile over his shoulder. The knife is reunited with the chopping board, and he turns around to slice at some leek with renewed vigour.

“Imagine I had used something else. Like the knife you’re holding now.” Yoonbum looks over his shoulder again to meet Sangwoo’s eyes. They’re black with accusation now, serious, his face no longer bright or laughing. His voice is poison. “You would have shit yourself.”

Yoonbum is paralysed by the idea that Sangwoo has a sense for his thoughts. He says nothing, receiving the message and accepting it. Whatever he had done, he had been too obvious.

His silence seems to agitate Sangwoo, who rises with a frown to stand behind him.

He flinches, but Sangwoo only rests his chin atop Yoonbum’s head, letting his warm hands travel over his belly affectionately. “You really have no sense of fucking humour do you, Bum? It’s boring. You can be so boring.” He sighs into his hair.

If there was ever a time to raise the knife and plunge it into Sangwoo’s forehead, it would be now. He considers this very seriously – it would be so easy, he’s right there – but half of him is fighting the burgeoning disappointment searing throughout his chest.

Sangwoo finds him boring.

“S-sorry,” he says, and he is. His heart cracks into two at the idea that he is undesirable to Sangwoo in yet another department.

Sangwoo brings up a hand to smooth along Yoonbum’s forearm and rest atop his own, where he grips at the knife. His other hand fingers the young scar on his collarbone. He suddenly presses into it hard, and Yoonbum whimpers.

“Don’t let me get bored of you, Bum. That really wouldn’t be good for you.”

Yoonbum’s lips wobble into a miserable line, and he nods.

Sangwoo leaves a lingering kiss on his forehead before letting go, leaving the kitchen for the bathroom.

Yoonbum hovers over the counter, breathing harshly. He puts down the knife.

Sangwoo is gone but he will not practice today.

One hour until my Spring Etsy release goes live on thecamillastore.etsy.com! I am going to be putting up limited items like this “Lemon Drop” plate,  apparel, tote bags, fine art prints, watches, scarves and original drawings. 6PM PST is when the items are going up and they will go fast. Make sure you have all your necessary shopping info handy!

And thank you all so much for the support! You’re all awesome!

Bitten (Task Force X x Reader)

Originally posted by batmanreblogs

It was your party as the Task Force X. Today it was the anniversary of creating the Task Force and Amanda had let you, after a lot of persuasion and some extra missions, to throw a small party in your building.

Harley was like always in charge of the drinks, you were in charge for the music along with KC, Chato and Floyd were responsible for the food.

Tatsu and June decorated the place and Rick babysat Digger who wanted to be involved in everything but ended up on ruining whatever you had prepared.

Chato had to stars over the tres leches cake because Digger had dropped the plate. You had to buy a new CD since Digger managed to sit on the top of it and break it.

Harley ushered him away from the bar as soon as she saw him and Tatsu threatened to cut his hand if he touched any of the decorations.

The party soon started and booze ran endlessly. You didn’t usually drink that much of alcohol but tonight it was different. You celebrated not dying in these stupid missions.

At least this project had taught you to value your life more and it had helped you find even more reasons to bond over with these people who celebrated with you.

You were tipsy really fast and decided to lounge on the couch.

Digger and KC were there and talked and you just stood and listened to them.

“So your scales are all over yer body, mate?” you heard Digger say and you knew where this conversation was going.

“Diggy, drop it. Even just for today.” You warned him.

“Oh, okie.” Digger said and stopped for a moment.

“Why Killer Croc? It’s like a new model of crappy ol’ Crocs.” Digger finally spoke again.

You saw KC shifting uncomfortably as digger kept his ranting on.

Your mind was blurred and that’s why you didn’t think twice before sinking your teeth into Diggers arm.

“Oi! Little rat! What are ye doin’?” Digger yelled in pain.

“Biting away annoying people like you!” you said and stuck out your tongue.

KC was looking at you with wide eyes before understanding what you had just done.

Digger hissed and left from his seat, mumbling about being surrounded by crazies.

“You didn’t have to do this.” KC spoke.

“I wanted to.” You gave him a slurred smile.

KC hugged you tight and gave you a soft noogie, “That’s my pal! I am proud you, kiddo.”

Things that are fucking me up rn: The untouched burger and fries at the table like he’d been sitting there drinking for hours, and Granny at some point had unceremoniously dropped the plate onto the table with a pointed quirk of her eyebrows and a even more pointed “Soak it up, Captain.”

And you know he would look up at her and do that quick, tight smile he does in thanks (fooling no one), and she’d narrow her eyes in response (not fooled). And she’d sigh and head back behind the counter keeping an eye on him as he gently moved the plate to the side and stared into the bottom of another glass.

Elyza/Ofelia/Alicia - Kitchen Dress Code
  • Elyza: *walking around the kitchen in just underwear.*
  • Ofelia: *walks into the kitchen and almost drops her plate.* Oh, sorry I-You know this is the kitchen, right?
  • Alicia: *walks in and reaches for a cup of coffee.*
  • Ofelia: Do you not care that your girlfriend is walking around the house in her underwear?
  • Alicia: *shrugs* I think any time she chooses to wear clothes in the house at all is a win.
  • Elyza: It's hard to keep clothes on when this one *points thumb in Alicia's direction* is always taking them off.
  • Alicia: *shrugs again* Can you blame me?
  • Elyza: Nope.
Don't be that guy

Don’t be that guy at the range, you know the one, I call him the Encyclopedia of False Shit.

So no shit there I was at the range today, just finger blasting my lady at the 200 yard lane, when this doomsday prepper type guy with full plates, drop leg harnesses (yes - two of them), full battle belt and combat shirt comes up to me. Already I know this guy gargles wieners, I mean come on man this is neither a combat zone nor a dynamic range, I’m just laying here trying to zero.
Anyways, he comes up, grabs my rifle (justified homicide right?) and proceeds to rattle off his opinions why my groups aren’t tight enough. Mind you, I haven’t touched this rifle in over nine months, so of course my zero is screwed. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he then lays down next to me and tries to teach me how to “engage targets” as if I asked him too. Of course he had no idea that I’ve been shooting for the better part of 15 years, and I’m an active competition shooter. But I’m a quiet son of a bitch, so I just sat back and let him blah blah blah for a solid 15 minutes. He brings his POS tacticool SCAR 17S with all the lights and suppressors on the market and offers to let me shoot it. Well, I’m also a cocky son of a gun, so I proceeded to stack five rounds on a dime at 200, and then just looked at him like a moron, with a grin so smug - it’d make Emma Stone melt.

Seeing that I was the alpha, he quietly stood up, walked away, and didn’t bother me again.

Don’t be that guy. You never know who you’re dealing with - remember that gentlemen.


-he’s unusually clingy when he’s feeling sleepy

-like, he would follow you around the house almost unconsciously, trying to see what you’re doing and insisting to help you if you’re washing the dishes for example

-which you always instantly refuse because he looks like he’s going to even while asking you if you need help

-so you just tell him to go to bed since you’re pretty sure that by now if given the opportunity he would be able to fall asleep even on the hard kitchen floor

-for a second he looks like he could even do what you said but right before he leaves the room he turns around and comes back to where you’re standing almost making you drop a plate when he speaks up

-’’But when are you coming to the bed?’’

-he finally goes to your bedroom, which is full of his things since he spend every single free night in your apartment, but only after you promise him that you’ll join him in a few minutes when you finishes the dishes

-you already know that there’s not way he’ll fall asleep before you’re there beside him…and it’s just like you predicted 

-he’s lying on your bed half asleep but he still manages to smile at you when you kiss his forehead gently, still blushing slightly but too tired to even try to hide it

-when he’s not that tired he would wait for you to fall asleep before cuddling up to you but on the nights like this he would pull you closer almost immediately

-which is why you’re always joking that he loves you the most when he’s sleep deprived which leads to his pouting and whole day full of skinship HE initiated

-you can sometimes hear him murmuring something in your ear right before he fall asleep…you can only hear small parts of and it’s either lyrics he’s been thinking about the whole day or quiet ‘’I love you’s’’ when he thinks you can’t hear him

-finding him asleep in the chair after writing is not rare and it’s usually pretty hard to get him to stand up so you sometimes just make yourself comfortable in his lap and take a nap with him because when you tried to wake him up he managed to grab your hand before falling asleep again and refused to let go

-and since you didn’t want to wake him up…that’s what you’re telling yourself at least..it’s definitely not that he looked to cute to leave him alone

-he sometimes starts feeling sleepy during the day, especially after he spends a whole day at the company practicing

-you would notice it immediately since he’s trying really hard to keep up with what you’re talking about but it’s not going really well

-so you pull him closer and put his head on your lap ignoring his protests completely  i mean it’s completely obvious that they’re not exactly serious and then just sit there trying to keep a straight face while looking at him struggling to find a positions that’s not awkward

-and somehow those are the moments you two love the most  even though he would need a little more convincing to admit that 

…. now I want to write a high school au with jock!dean doting on his adorable artist boyfriend Cas and Cas comes to all of Dean’s baseball games and actually gets Dean in a fair bit of trouble because damn that boy has a dirty mouth when he’s shit talking the opposing team and Dean goes to every single one of Cas’s art shows and his jokes and teasing keep Cas’s anxiety at bay as strangers appraise his work. Actually he distracts Cas so well that Cas doesn’t even realize his painting sold until the end of the night and he never finds out who bought it… until he’s a senior in college moving into his and Dean’s first apartment and he drops a box of plates off in the kitchen and sees a single piece of art on the living room wall, a painting of two silhouettes holding hands in a sea of green and blue and when he turns to find dean leaning in the doorway with a sheepish grin he launches himself into his fiancé’s arms and absolutely no unpacking gets done that night


Young Fem!Reader x Brother Figure/Alpha Scott

Requested By Anon

Warnings: Reader has nightmares of Isaac and Reader’s abusive home life

The plate dropped to the ground and your eyes locked on your brothers from across the room. The sound of it shattering into tiny pieces was almost like a warning bell for the both of you, Isaac quickly pushed his chair back as a glass was launched towards you, taking the blow as he crushed you to his chest and told you it was going to be ok.

“I’m sorry Isaac!” You yelped when he was grabbed and dragged towards the basement.


You threw you blankets back, gasping for air as the nightmare left your body coated in sweat, Melissa’s room was just next door so she heard you cry out and had hurried in. She wrapped you in a tight hug as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“It’s alright (Y/N), if you have a bad dream you can find me ok.” Melissa said gently.

“Ok.” You whimpered.

Keep reading

Maid - Joker x Reader imagine

hi! so here it is. the storyline is basically that the reader is like a maid at the Joker’s house, mainly she cooks for him. she’s really insecure about her cooking skills, pretty much an awkward girl in general. what she doesn’t know is that Joker’s got an eye on her ever since she started working for him (which is only 2 weeks). it’s short and idk how i feel about it, but i like the story. maybe not the way i wrote, idk man. sorry there’s no gif :(((((

Characters: Jared Leto!Joker, Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader (if that’s a warning), kissing, implied smut 

Don’t drop the plates, don’t drop the plates, don’t drop the plates.

I repeat the same four words in my head as I carry the plates full of food into the huge dining hall. Oh, God, there he is. Sitting right at the end of the long, empty table. Guards in each corner of the room, protecting him. The Crime Prince of the city. His crimson red lips erupt in a grin once he sees me walking towards him. I smile back shyly. Although I have grown quite used to his psychotic behavior in these few weeks, Mr. J is still terrifying me in many ways. His icy blue orbs are always so unreadable and seductive, his laugh so menacing and the tone of his voice so intimidating. God, was I afraid but charmed. 

“My dear Y/N, what have you made this time?” He says as I am now very close to him.

“Something special, Mr. J.” I say as I put the food on the table in front of the man with shaking hands. God, this dish was really something special. I had put all my will and energy to make it edible. I really hope it doesn’t taste like  horse shit or I am probably gonna be fired. Or killed. I was putting so much effort into everything and anything I did in this place.

“And all for me?” Mr. J asks, looking up at me from his seat. I smile.

“Yes, Mr. J.” I say, my voice a bit shaky. His pale hand raises up to my face and he caresses my cheek with the back of it. I try to breath as steadily as I can as he is looking me right in the eyes.

“Sit down, sweet cheeks.” Mr. J says. What? He’s asking me to sit down? Don’t get me wrong, he is quite a nice person, but for my working time here this is the first nice gesture coming directly from him.

“O-okay, sir.” I say, taking a seat not far from him at the table. I put my hands in my lap as he takes the fork and knife in hand. I can’t help but steal quick glances of him eating the food to see what he thinks. Mr. J’s face remains the same and he doesn’t say a thing. That could mean either it’s horrible or wonderful. Oh my. “Is it bad, Mr. J?” I ask, nervousness audible in my voice. God, I probably messed up the sauce. He stops eating and looks at me with a totally unreadable expression. Shit, it’s bad. “It’s bad, oh God, I’m sorry, Mr. J, I-”

“Sweets.” He says, putting down the fork and knife. “Boys, dismiss us.” OH. SHIT. I’M IN TROUBLE. He rises from his seat once all the guards are out the door and stands in front of me. “Stand up, doll.” Mr. J speaks and I obey him, rising from my seat. We are standing so close to each other.

“Mr. J, I apologize if the food is horrible, although I really-” I started to rumble again, an annoying habit of mine, but Mr. J stops me when he pushes his body harsh against mine.

“Shh, sweets, you talk too much.” He says, putting his hand over my mouth and I think by now the fear in my eyes is pretty evident to anyone who looked. “Are you…” Mr. J starts, pushing me onto the table, so now he’s standing between my legs. His face is so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my nose. Mr. J’s eyes are looking right into mine as he says, “… Afraid of me, doll?” Well I can’t just tell him, then he’ll think I’m weak. I stay silent and he grabs me by my hips so roughly I’m afraid it will leave bruises. “Please obey Daddy, doll.” Oh my God, what? That’s a bit disturbing, but.. also sounds really hot when he says it. I’m so weird.

“I’m not, Mr. J.” I speak.

“Oh really?” Joker says, his lips right by my ear, sending shivers all over my body. “Then why are you shivering like a tree leaf, my dear?” His metal teeth bite onto my ear and I can’t help the moan that comes out of my mouth. I instantly cover my mouth with my hand and the Joker chuckles. Chuckles. “Don’t be ashamed, sweets. I want to hear you.”

“Mr. J, w-why are you doing this?” I finally get the courage to ask him. Joker laughs, but not maniacally, and faces me.

“Well, my darling… You see, this doesn’t happen often, but I’ve taken liking in you.” Mr. J says with raised eyebrows. Oh. “And I love to see you in this uniform.” 

I can’t say anything. It is just… Wow. This attractive and intimidating man, the king of crime, takes a liking in me? Me? What could be so special about me? 

All the while I am basically questioning my life, I am staring into the Joker’s eyes. And he is staring back at me.

“Don’t just look at me, sweets. Say something, do something.” Joker urges.

“Mr. J, I-”

“Oh, God, I love it when you call me that.” Joker whispers huskily and leans down to connect our lips. Yes. He’s kissing me. He, Mr. J. 

Takes me by surprise and I writhe around in his grip, but he’s too strong. The kiss is rough, but meaningful. God, this is so wrong. He’s my boss. There shouldn’t be such feelings between us. But I love it.

“Now, doll.” He speaks, disconnecting our lips and leaving me longing for his. “Let’s take things to a more serious level, shall we?”