have we crossed the line

Seriously… this is what it’s come down to? When I first saw this image I didn’t know what I was looking at, I saw the armored car and Flack vests and thought it was an image from a battle field in Afghanistan. There is a sickness creeping into our society that must be rooted out now it is the love of money over the wellbeing of human beings. It was always there but somehow slightly kept in check but somehow we have now crossed a line. #NoDapl

Crossing Lines: Arrow 5x19 Review (Dangerous Liaisons)

If 5x19 is indicative of the final four episodes of Season 5, then we are in for one hell of a ride. 

After setting Oliver and Felicity off into trajectories, Arrow returns to the center as Felicity’s relationship with Helix come to a head. Original Team Arrow is splintered as Felicity aligns herself against Oliver and Diggle. Smoak versus Arrow is more than just Felicity going head to head with those who know and love her best. It’s about diving into Felicity’s real motivations. Sure, we were told Felicity’s grief over Billy is pushing her over the edge 

(keep singing that tune Arrow), but we knew there was more. The truth is, Felicity’s motivations haven’t strayed too far from center after all.

Let’s dig in…

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Who You Belong To

Description:  Jungkook has noticed you flirting with Taehyung for quite awhile and has finally decided you need to be reminded of who you belong to.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 8647

Warning: Dom!Jungkook, daddy kink, spanking, minor breath play, thigh riding, hair pulling, punishment, possessiveness

A/N: This is a happy birthday present to @avveh who has been my sounding board for literally every one of these fics.  She helps come up with general plots (what little plots I have in these smuts), what kinks to throw in, even some of the dirty talk, so of course I owed her a birthday present full of her favorite things.

The entire idea for this smut started between the two of us when the Bangtan Bomb for Sope-me was released.  We are possessive smut trashy fangirls and created an entire scenario based on the moment Jungkook got water and looked at something with, what interpreted as, a jealous look.  This is the kind of friendship we have.  We feed each other’s delusions.

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Straight White Boy Problem #598

How DARE you bro. We bought that bong as a “family” and now, you have smokeed all of will’s weed by yourself and you didn’t even clean the bong after you finished. I am totally removing you from our group chat and we are gojng to form a new group chat, which you definitely will not be in. this is the last time you will EVER do this you have crossed the line and the next time we buy weed it will be without you. maybe…just maybe…you will learn something from this

It is nearing dinner time. There is a scratch
on my glasses, which makes it hard to see.


You tell me that I am beautiful. You tell me
that the summer will be here soon.
I work harder than I ever have before.


For me, the work feels like
leaving something behind. For you,
it is right. It’s divine. There is an invisible
line we have crossed, and now that we’re here
there is no use pretending anymore.
We might as well enjoy it.


It is March again. The azaleas are in bloom.
We cook rice in summer spices, roast red sausage,
pour glasses of cheap wine. In line, at the grocery store,
shopping from a scribbled half-list
we kissed,
and did not care who watched us.


The rice did not cook correctly.
You chop tomatoes for the salad
and squeeze lime juice on top.
It is hotter in the kitchen. Hotter, still, outside,
where the round bulb lights
show a patio, half-rotted
and leaning towards collapse.


If I am leaning towards madness,
I think I would like you to know. If the timing
was not right, we would feel it.
If the clock on the stove slowed
we will certainly have noticed. Do not be afraid
of the smoke pooling in the rafters
or the steam hissing from a pot of
brewing tea.  Do not be afraid of me,
even when instinct tells you otherwise.


Outside, the sky is a starless black.
We eat the rice, the salad, the charred bread,
laughing at the way these things take shape sometimes
even without effort.


Despite my best laid plans, and the loneliness
I had affixed to my breast like an honor,
despite the burnt bread,
the undercooked rice,
the brownies, which we forgot to put in the oven,
the absence of wholesome intention,
despite the mistakes that have anchored me,
you are here now.


Beneath the starless sky, adrift,
tasting cheap wine and southern spices,
you are here.
And I think
despite all of the ways I have gone wrong
the world wants us to live
like this.

—  For Dinner on Fat Tuesday; HB
inspiration to write vs. inspiration to steal

For the last few weeks there have been series of events regarding cases of plagiarism or finding stolen ideas, which involves my beloved friends, other respected writers which I’ve been witnessing, and now even myself. Even when the recent cases have been able to be solved privately without long and exhausting drama, there are still cases where the perpetrators still defend themselves, either those who insisted that it’s mere coincidental for them to have “similar” works posted, or if they have been “inspired” by the original post, or even to the point where they also insisted that they have no knowledge whatsoever that the original posts have existed before they posted their “work”.

I’m pretty sure that this has been said multiple times by some of the writers I know, but let me say this again. It is the original writer who has the right to judge if your work are not just “similar” but exactly a copy, it is the original writer who can say that your work is purely copied from them, and it is the original writer themselves that can has the right to report, to shout publicly or kindly asking you to delete, and to say that what you did is defined as a work of plagiarism. You don’t get to decide that you are innocent when you have cross the line of what we see as a form of copyright infringement.

To understand my point of view - since I keep feeling like you just don’t get what we are saying, I’m going to just point out the lines and the boundaries between being “inspired” and blatantly “copying” other people’s work, and show you what you can and cannot do.


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EXO Reaction-Riding his....(18+)

Okay so there hasn’t been a request for EXO in a long time and i’m happy to get it done!!!  The request box is open and we are still searching for an admin.  Also if you guys do have an issue with the reactions or are offended or feel we crossed a line, don’t hesitate to send us a private message.  Don’t forget we are getting closer to 1,000 and when we hit it there will be a major surprise!!!!—-Admin B

I don’t own these gifs

Xiumin:  After you asked him what you wanted, he would sit there and think about it for a second wondering where this side of you came from before he gives in and pulls you into him.

Luhan:  Once he found out that you wanted to ride him he would be really happy.  He’d bring you on his lap while you made his face change emotion while his hand gently went up your stomach to a better place.

Kris:  When you asked him about it he would be tell you he was happy to make your dream come true.  While you were riding him, his lips would be on your neck helping you get as much pleasure as he was.

Lay:  After making him happy for a while, you would start to whisper in his ear to try and make him moan more, however he wouldn’t have any of that taking your hands and putting them on his trousers, however he uses his hands on your hips helping you out along the way.

Suho:  After all the stress that he has been going through with the band, he would happily let you on his thighs.  While you went slow just like he asked, he’d still find time to give you little kisses.

Baekhyun:  You would tell him your fantasy and he would agree after you told him you really wanted it.  Even though you would be making him happy,  he would want you to feel the same way as he finds your sweet spot on your neck.

Chen:  When you decided to tell him your secret fantasy he would suddenly smile at the idea, making you rethink how sweet your innocent boyfriend was.  After a while his hands would sneak under your shirt and behind your back until you made cute noises like him.

Chanyeol:  After a while of making him make his happy face for you, you would finally feel his hand on your own thigh and not know what to do about it.  When you tried to protest he would kiss you to make you quiet.

D.O.:  The look on your shy boyfriends face would tell you everything that you needed to know.  Even though he was shy and reserved his darker side would come out and while you were on top of him he’d tell you how he truly feels.

Tao:  He’d be more then happy to honor your wish.  But during the entire time he would spend it giving you kisses here and there and telling you how pretty you look and how happy you make him.

Kai:  He would be totally in once you asked him for the ride.  As much as he enjoyed you being on top, he would want to make you happy first.  With his hands all over your body you would be the one to end up screaming his name instead of him.

Sehun:  He would be absolutly shy about letting you be on top of him with this action.  However after awhile he would like it to the point of giving you his sneaky little smile.  Once he was happy he’d spend the night making you happy as well.

***I don’t own any of these gifs, all credit to their owners***
**Request box is open.**
*Don’t forget to click “Follow” for more reactions and scenarios*

Star Gazing

Prompt: Batmom’s reaction to Jason’s death and return

AN: Getting some requests written today!!!! Here is your daily dose of angst.

Words: 1038


          You sit in the dark, and you wait. It’s not your preferred method, but sometimes, certain measures are required. He enters with a scoff of his boots, and several curses leave his mouth. You smile a bit; some things never change. The light flicks on and he just stops and stares at you. You give a little smile, “You always did like to curse when you thought no one was listening.”  

          “How did you …”

          “There are some things a mother will always know,” You stand up and walk towards him. The helmet is gone, and you feel the first tear drop. Your hand rises of its own desire, and cups his face. You expect him to pull away, instead he leans into it.

          A moment later his hand cups your own, and several more tears fall. “Aww Maa, don’t cry.”

          You smile a bit, “I never thought I’d hear you call me that again. With Dick it was always ‘Mom.’ You were the first one to ever call me ‘Ma,’ and if you were looking for something it was always MAAAAAA!”

          He smiles, “You haven’t changed.” You just smile at him. And he takes a step back, “Can I get you some tea?”

          You shake your head, “No thank you, I’m fine Jason.”

          There’s a moment of silence before he says, “What are you doing here, Ma? Surely he’s told you that I’ve changed.”

          You don’t miss a beat, “You’re  still incredibly strong-willed, pig-headed, and stubborn. You still know exactly what you want and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get it. For the resentment you feel towards him right now, the two of you are incredibly alike.”

          He scowls, “I am nothing like him! I’m willing to do whatever is needed to clean up this town.”

          “And what happens when someone decides that it’s you who needs to be cleaned? You’re leaving a trail of bodies in your wake, Jason.”

          His voice raises, “You don’t understand!”

          Your voice matches his “I understand better than you think, Jason Todd! I was the only thing that stopped him you know! He was ready, he was ready to snap that deranged clown’s neck. Snuck out of bed in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even respond when I called out to him over the freaking radio. First time I had spoken in nearly two months and he didn’t respond. I was certain that he was going to cross that line.”

          Jason spits out another curse, “I don’t want to hear about that stupid line again!”

          You pull out your mom voice and it stops him cold, “Too bad, Jason Wayne. I didn’t speak for two months after you died, and didn’t leave the manor for nearly three. Your death nearly destroyed me, and it came even closer to destroying your father.”

          You take a deep breath, “When your father and I started the Batman, we came up with a set of rules. Among them was that either of us could pull the plug at any time if we thought it was affecting our marriage, we had to have a mandatory date night, and that we would never cross the line. Killing would make us like them, and eventually we’d become the very thing we were trying to eliminate.

          “When you died, I fell apart. I had lost a child, and I pray that you never feel that pain Jason. Ever. No one should have a child die before them. Your father threw himself into his work. We became two passing ships. Then one night, I hear him slip out of bed. It bothered me for some reason, and I went down into the cave for the first time since you had died. The GPS on the batmobile put him at Arkham, and I just knew. I talked for the first time since the funeral and I begged him not to do it. My throat hurt like crap the next day.

          “He didn’t respond, but not even thirty minutes later, he was back home. He just sank down in front of me Jason, and he cried, and he apologized over and over again. It was the first time I had seen him cry since his own parents passed away.

          “The reason he didn’t kill Joker is because of me Jason. So be mad at me, not your father.”

          He shakes his head, “You didn’t fail me, he did. He let me die. And I don’t know what you were hoping for by coming here Ma, but I’m not coming back. I’m not your son anymore!”

          “Don’t lie to your mother Jason.”

          “Who says I’m lying?”

          You smile, “The fact that you called me Ma, in the same sentence that you denied being my son. And the fact that I’ve referred to Bruce as your father, all night and you didn’t protest it once.” You pause for a moment, “We love you Jason, and when you’re ready we’ll be waiting.”

          You move slowly to the door before stopping and saying “I like your ficus by the way. It’s a very homey touch. Reminds me of the one you helped me pick out for my office.”

          He doesn’t say a word, and you leave.

          When you get home Bruce is waiting for you. He’s sitting on the stone steps with a cup of coffee, and you take a seat next to him. There’s a few moments of silence before he says, “Well?”

          You smile, “He’s like you, stubborn to the core. But I’ve found that I’m good a wearing that stubbornness down. He’ll come home eventually, Bruce.”

          He takes a sip of coffee, “But how broken?”

          You shrug, “Doesn’t matter. It’s our job as parents to put the pieces back together.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he wraps an arms around yours.

          He kisses your forehead and says, “As long as I have you, I know everything is going to  be okay.”

          You kiss the underside of his jaw, “We’re the best team around Wayne, and don’t you forget it.”

          He gives you a small smile and says, “Never.”

          The two of you spend the rest of the night gazing at the stars.

Now I’m just chasing time
With a thousand dreams I’m holding heavy
And as we cross the line these fading beats have all been severed
Don’t tell me our youth is running out
It’s only just begun

“Youth” - Foxes

Fools: a Mark fic

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter 8

Two years ago, if you’d told me that I’d be having dinner with my dad, my best friend, and Mark Tuan, I would have ignored you because that was never going to happen.

Keep reading

Scripted Kisses

Anon: Hi! So I was wondering if you could do a imagine w/ jaehyun where he gets jealous that you have to do a kiss scene in your new drama and he ignores you until… idk I’m bad at this lmao , but yeah please and thank you

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Jealousy

Pairing; Jaehyun x Reader

POV: First Person


A rush of panic filled my veins as I saw him looking at me dumbfounded. He nodded slightly and looked away, jawline terse and face placid. Jaehyun was always full of mischief and happiness. He was a package filled with endless love and support especially with me. But now that he’s heard about my new role, he’s different. The cheery atmosphere we enjoyed a couple of minutes ago dissolved into a heavy silence. 

 I was casted to play the main character of a new drama. A female lead who has a keen interest in her boss and then they share some steamy scenes with kisses and whatnot. Jaehyun looked out the window definitely bothered by the whole situation. “Jaehyun, I know that it doesn’t seem right to you but this means so much to me.” I tried to ease the tension. He turned his head and stared right into my eyes. The kind eyes of a gorgeous boy that relaxed me before were now carrying an intimidating gaze. I wanted to look away but dared not to. Eyes can speak a million words. 

 "It means a lot to you because you finally get to attach your lips to someone else’s?“ His words were like a dozen knives attacking me at the same time. 

 "No because then I’ll be offered more roles if this becomes a successful drama. This is such a huge step in my career, you should at least try to support it.” I was hurt that he was acting this way. He should’ve hugged me and told me I would do great. But instead he sat like a statue with his pile of ice cream melting in the curved glass. 

 "If it becomes successful.“ My mouth was left hanging open at his comment. Jealousy was one thing but now he was crossing his line. "We should go, I have to practice anyway,” he said standing up and putting on his jacket. I sighed knowing I’ll have to put up with his attitude. Jaehyun was the worst person when he’s annoyed. 

 I walked home alone, my throat heavy and eyes sore from holding back tears. He always walked me home. Always. My apartment was dark, the only light coming from the windows. The silence was deafening as I was left alone with my thoughts. What if he breaks up with me? I asked myself, overthinking about the role. Is this really worth ending our relationship? I put down my purse and decided to leave the lights off. It was more comforting that way. The blank TV screen stared right back at me, my distorted reflection visible. I picked up my phone hoping he would text me but it was quiet as a desert. Nothing at all. Not even a text asking me if I got home safe. Night creeped up slowly, city lights twinkling discreetly as the sky changed colours. I stared at the window, conflicted about my choices and Jaehyun’s attitude. 

 The next morning was a struggle. I had been up all night expecting a call from him. No goodnight messages or calls and not even a good morning text. The only notifications that showed up were of my friends and family who were wishing me luck on my first day. I just couldn’t get Jaehyun’s agitated face from the day before out of my head. And how quickly it modulated when I broke my good news to him. All day through work, memorising lines and practicing scenes I thought about him. By the time they finished with my makeup and clothes I missed him. And when we stopped shooting for the day I picked up my bag and ran straight to his dorm, hoping he’d want to see me. 

 I could hear Taeyong’s voice behind the large wooden door. The gallery was brightly lit but devoid of any humane presence. I knocked on the door, sucking in a deep breath. Jaehyun opened the door, hair messy and eyes tired. He wore a loose white T-Shirt and grey sweatpants. I wanted to hug him and inhale his musky scent but instead I stood in front of him and faked a smile. “Hi,” I said. He just stared at me and then nodded, closing the door just slightly. I waited outside for him until he appeared again, wearing his trainers and jacket. 

 "What’re you doing here?“ He asked. Thin streaks of tears ran down my cheeks. He seemed so distant, as if we are nothing. 

 "I just wanted to see you.” I said, trying to hold in my tears but they continued to flow out my eyes. He sighed deeply, looking at the ground. “I just-” I started and then dried away my tears, regaining my confidence. “I was happy yesterday Jaehyun. I’m finally doing something I love, something I wanted to do for a long time. This is my dream. And I expected for you to at least support it.” His face did not change. It was as if I wasn’t even there. Anger boiled through me as the new tears slid over the dried ones. “This is all I get? I spent the whole day worrying about you, about us. Not a second has passed by today that I didn’t think of you. I killed my pride and came all the way here just to see you." 

 He finally looked up, a glint of remorse shining in his eyes. I turned to walk away but he held my arm, with force at first but then loosened his grip. "I’m sorry.” He blurted. I turned around and looked at him, surprised. For some reason I didn’t expect him to apologise. “I should’ve supported you but I didn’t like the fact that you were going to share something with a stranger thats mine.” He stopped for a second and walked closer to me. “I just didn’t want you kissing someone else." 

 "Do you really think a kiss determines a relationship? Its more than that Jaehyun. We are so much more than a small scripted kiss.” He nodded and pulled me into a hug. I held onto his jacket. 

 "I’m so sorry for being such a dick.“ He whispered. I heard someone whistle behind us and as we turned around, we saw Haechan smirking at us. "Go to hell Donghyuck,” Jaehyun yelled as he snapped another picture of us and sticking out his tongue. We both laughed and then stared into each other eyes. We were so much more than scripted kisses.

This is what you do at weddings

(or at least this is what Harry and Nick do when they’re together at a wedding)

Do I need to add it was inspired by this


“I feel like it’s the only thing I’ve been doing lately – going to weddings.”

“I feel you.”

“I caught a bouquet at the last one though, so I guess it’s my turn now.”

“Huh.”

They’re quiet for a while after that, standing on a pier, looking at the sea, like they’re in a freaking romantic comedy. Harry smiles to himself. Which would it be though? Before he gets a chance to mentally go through all of his favourite ones and decide which has a scene exactly like this, Nick interrupts him.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

From birthday anon: Pretty please write Otayuri mpreg as a surprise to when I wake up tomorrow? ^^'

Happy Birthday anon! I haven’t written mpreg in months so I hope this meets your expectations

more Otayuri mpreg


“I hate you.” Yuri grumbled as he stood in the entryway to their living room. Otabek looked up from the papers he was reading over, glasses perched on his nose. He had gotten a job teaching literature at a local high school right after he had gotten his degree and was current in his first year of teaching. It was stressful for him and on Yuri but they managed.

Otabek smirked as he watched Yuri press his hands into his bulging stomach with a scowl. “You weren’t complaining when it happened.”

Yuri ignited in a blush and he turned his head away. “Sh-Shut up.”

Otabek chuckled and shifted on the couch, making room for his husband to sit down. Yuri all but collapsed into the seat beside him and leaned on Otabek, head resting on his shoulder.

“I thought of a name for him.” Yuri poked at his stomach. Otabek hummed in response.

“I wanna name him Nikolai. You know, after my grandfather.” Otabek could hear the hesitation in Yuri’s voice and met wary eyes. Otabek pinched his chin affectionately and brought their lips together with a soft smile.

“It’s perfect. Yekaterina and Nikolai. Sounds nice.” Yuri broke into a wide smile and wrapped his arms around one of Otabek’s.

“Is she sleeping?” Otabek asked as he shuffled through his papers, Yuri’s presence not a bother to him.

Yuri made a noise of affirmation. “She was sad that Papa wasn’t there to read her a bed time story. She doesn’t like my voices very much.”

“That’s because you don’t put enough effort into it.”

Yuri stuck his tongue out at him and heaved a sigh. “Soon we’re going to have two kids in this joint.”

Otabek nodded and glanced down at Yuri’s stomach. Even though Yuri was wearing Otabek’s bulky shirt (and was much taller than him now), Yuri was still swimming in it. He was lithe aside from the swollen bump right in the center. There was no hiding that.

“Do you think it’s going to be too crowded?” Yuri asked.

“No.” Otabek answered immediately and settled back against the cushions, pushing his hand under the shirt. Yuri sighed as the warmth of Otabek’s hand caressed his stomach. The baby - Nikolai - gave a small kick and Otabek chuckled.

“He likes me more than you already.”

Yuri shoved Otabek’s hand away and tried his best to bring his knees to his chest to block out wandering hands but failed. He huffed. “You really don’t think we’ll have to move?”

Otabek glanced around their apartment. It wasn’t the largest apartment but they could fit here cozily. Though, Otabek would like to get a dog and have a yard and do the white picket fence like they did in American movies.

“We’ll cross that line when we have to.” Otabek decided. He kissed Yuri softly and moved his hand to rub his stomach again. Nikolai kicked again. “For now, I think we’re good right here.”

Yuri sighed into the kiss and decided to let it go for now.

anonymous asked:

on the fan taken pictures you post, they say editing is not allowed, etc. but does that also include graphic design type edits or does it just mean you're not allowed to mess with the colors and cropping and stuff?

Please check our FAQ, as we have this information listed there~ I’ll copy it here in case anyone else is wondering:
What “do not edit” means?
Do not edit
means that you cannot make any modifications to the photo whatsoever, this means cropping the logo, filtering the photo, using them in graphics or other edits. There are a few fansites that do allow editing (with certain restrictions), so you can use those but you cannot use any that say “Do not edit.”

Anonymous asked: Do you all have separate blogs?

Yes. ^___^ They’re listed on our team page but I’ll list them below if anyone’s interested:
Kylie - @jiminz
Jia - @pawjimin
Kristi (hi, that’s me~) - @vmony
Eunice - @peacockparty
Bem - @beforehixtape
Christie - @yoongi-jjang
Mia - @lunamiataetae
Jina - @soonvt
Paige - @hobiheung

Anonymous asked: Do you know how much shipping for the summer package is for international?

It depends on which site you order from, and where you’re from.

Anonymous asked: hello, could you please underline questions when you post more of them in one post? thank you and have a nice day 

Hi, sorry.. I’m not sure what you mean. Is it hard to read our questions and answers if they’re grouped together in one post? 

Anonymous said: every time you two interact or mention each other my heart gets a little more warmer and the day gets brighter ;;;;

You’re so sweet! Thank you, ahhh. ^____^

Anonymous said: i know its small but i do enjoy the personal tags on the pics you guys post. sometimes it seems like update blogs are robots or something (not trying to sound rude at all, but you know what i mean? lol) ^^

(◕‿◕✿) This is so sweet, thank you so much! I know it can seem like we’re robots, because we’re like machines uploading 384019481 pictures and other updates all the itme, but it’s really nice when you guys remember that we’re people (fans!) just like the rest of you, and doing this because we enjoy it, love BTS, and want to share this with others. ;u; Have a lovely day~ ♡

Anonymous asked: fansites are basically stalkers unless the pictures are taken during prformnces or red carpet most of them use idols for money and sell pictures

I know it may not be a familiar concept to everyone, and it’s very different from western society + its fan culture, but this type of fan culture is very much a part of Asian culture, especially Korean. It’s a way for fans to show appreciation to their idols.

The rule for fansites is that they are not allowed to photograph the idols past airport security (TSA) or during their private schedules. Surely there are people who cross the line and may have stalker behavior, but we will take that into consideration and will not post from those who we feel are acting inappropriately. 

Also, it usually takes much more money to follow the group than it does to make money off of them. Not only do these fansites have to buy thousands of dollars worth of photography equipment (camera, lens, editing software, etc..), but they are also paying for flights + other transportation, hotels, and tickets to shows just like the rest of us. And even after all that, they risk losing all that money spent by taking photos and videos, because I have seen firsthand the result of a fansite getting caught. Security guards grab their cameras and physically drag them out of the venue. 

And the money fansites “make” goes to the idols in the form of birthday gifts/support, food service, etc.. Or to a charity in the name of the idol. The fansite will often disclose where the money they make off of goods goes to. 

Overall, I understand where you’re coming from and how this can be a very unusual concept, but know that this is considered normal in Korea. Personally, I feel grateful for these fansites because they’re really putting a lot of effort into what they do, and are always so graciously sharing with us photos and videos of Bangtan. If not for them, would any of us really know what it looks like inside a fansign? How often would we see the insides of their concerts, or high quality videos of their performances at award shows and other special events? And when it comes down to it, they do what they do to make the boys happy. They gift them with things they like, and they do what they can to make sure the idol knows they’re loved and supported. So please, everyone, show love to fansites and remember to thank them every so often~ ;u; 
- Kristi

Small considerations between partners - 7 ‘Swaying isn’t dancing’

Previous chapters -  Season one   Season two   Season three   Season four

                                   Season five    Fight The Future


SMALL CONSIDERATIONS BETWEEN PARTNERS

BY

AllyinthekeyofX

SWAYING ISN’T DANCING

Season six – post ‘The Rain King’

 

As I carefully negotiate the car back to the motel I am aware that Scully is unusually quiet beside me; in fact she has barely said a word since we left the auditorium and while I’m more than accustomed to the companionable silences that often stretch between us, this seems different somehow because the vibe she is giving me, while not annoyed exactly is certainly more than a little off.

If it weren’t for the residual floodwater that occasionally laps almost to the bottom of the door seals when we hit a dip in the road I would probably find some way to question her on it but right now I am more concerned with us getting back in one piece.   The problem being of course is that the longer I don’t speak, the less inclined she will be to tell me what is bothering her.  She has always been the same way  and I’ve discovered through years of trial and error that if I can catch her early enough, before she starts to rationalise, I have a slim chance of her opening up; but leave it too long and the book is closed for good.

So I risk a glance in her direction, surprised to discover that she isn’t looking straight ahead as her profile suggested, but that her head is actually angled slightly toward mine, watching me as I drive us through the deserted streets.  The minute my eyes meet hers though she swallows and looks away, a curious expression on her face that seems like a mixture of embarrassment and something else I’ve never seen before and which I can’t quite put my finger on.

“You okay Scully?”

I fully expect to hear the usual verbal fallback from her in response to my question and I’m totally unprepared when she simply shakes her head slightly and presses her lips together in a tight thin line – in fact if I didn’t know her better I would swear she is trying not to cry.  And I’m mystified because as far as I can see, our night has been pretty successful at least inasmuch as we actually managed to close a case with some kind of positive resolution for all concerned.  The rain stopped, order was restored, the good guy finally got his gal and no one died; all in all I that’s a pretty damn fine result for us.

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Tim Drake Week, Day 7: Injury/Healing

This is so laaaate and I’m sorry. But it’s cute, so enjoy.

**

Day 7: Healing/Injury

The warning is all there to read:

“Timmy.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

The brief flash, building a contingency, is short and bittersweet because the only thing that can deflect Dick Grayson’s mother-hen instinct is literally the wrath of God.

Maybe an alien invasion.

Or not.

The point is, once Dick’s got a hint of hurt vigilante, the man is an unstoppable tank, tearing through cities, bad guys, good guys, unimaginable boxes of cereal, any and all Party Cities and obscure comic book shops to find the culprit.

B couldn’t escape him in outer-fucking-space.

So, there’s that.

Take into account he’d been dodging the Titans also, and it’s just a hodgepodge of fuckery from there because this game thing they’ve got going on? The “Where’s Red?” game. It’s seriously balls, and is severely cramping his style.

Even Ra’s is refusing to pick up his phone calls, so you know shit has apparently gotten real on the good guy side of things.

Welp, he did his utmost best this time.

“Hi Big Wing,” he says over the comm in his ear and taps it to mute before kicking the thug out of his path and continuing on.

What is this I hear about a really bad fight with the Fatal Five?”

Dammit.

“That about sums it up, really. A bad fight. A bad fight we totally won, by the way, thanks for asking.” He doesn’t make a sound as his left side twinges anyway, still raw under the bandages because he might have broken a few stitches or something.

Just not a big deal. Not enough to warrant

Dick’s Sixth Sense

“I hear the Persuader nailed you pretty good,” all easy, just big brother Dick. He’s not fooled for a second, oh hell no.

He huffs and climbs up into the vents, ignoring the pain of the aforementioned injury (and yes, an atomic axe is a weapon no one should try taking on without a serious enjoyment for pain) taps the comm back on and talks low enough to still listen for the usual signals of main bad guy HQ —>This way.

“I deflected his axe with repurposed Luthor tech. The calibrations weren’t that hard.” Which is completely, totally, unequivocally true. After the first hit took out a good piece of him because he’s good, but no one is that good.

Dick hums, fake and telling, making him freeze right in the middle of the vent. “Oh? Well, that’s fine. Knew you could do it, Timmy, but you’ve got to be taking it easy after a fight like that, right?”

“Sure am,” behind the whiteouts, he gets a load of very carefully stacked canisters in a storage room, which is just exactly what he’d been looking for. Almost. Bad guys too. He really liked wrapping up all the loose ends in a case before he puts it to bed. “Doing a little maintenance to the mainframe, cleaning up my old notes, doing some data analysis. All pretty tame.”

HA! ALSO TRUE.

He’s got this. It’s in the bag.

Mutes the comm and gingerly removes the vent cover, swinging in easy but the damn side pulls anyway. His wrist computer scans the labels, computes the explosive power in the room (there’s an app for that) while voices pass by, talking about the deal going down in a few hours.

(Yeah, bad news for you.)

“Good, good,” Dick is saying absently as the keypad case comes off and he works a little magic to change the access codes. “I’m glad you’re resting up, Tim. Taking care of yourself like you should since infections are terrible for you.”

Well, the thing about that is–

He was running out of time here. Yes, he took his antibiotics, but maybe he might be just, you know, feeling it a little.

Wisely, he taps the comm on just enough to “mmhmm,” his way through it.

“I mean, I would really hate it if you were working a case right now like that. Just, that would upset me so much, Tim.”

He pauses as the door slides open softly, thinking for a second he might not be able to bullshit his way out of this one.

His vigilante sense is tingling.

Not in any good kind of way.

But, the clock is ticking, and he strafes out of the weapons room to the door shutting behind him. Cracks his knuckles and his neck before it’s time to take to the shadows, do this as quickly and quietly as possible.

“You’d be out there. All alone. Without your team since they’re all taking a well-deserved vacay, Tim. They’re not out doing anything strenuous.”

He sucks in a breath, presses flat into the shadows until the first with a very nice AK-47 come right up on him–

And is down for the count.

“Hey, I just got a really good ping,” he zip ties the guy and keeps moving, “let me call you back when I get something–”

“And you’d just be making is worse, Tim,” Dick goes on, “because you don’t know your limitations sometimes–”

Shit. Here we go.

Second and third armed mercenary go down seamlessly. All kinds of winning right here.

By the time Dick has gotten somewhere around the, “and with what we do, Timmy, you have to understand the lines you can cross with your body and your health,” he has put down twelve, maybe fifteen, ready to come up on the big boss for the night so he can just get this over with and head back to the safe house for a nice long soak in a hot tub.

When the main doors open, however–

He sighs because he really hates when it’s twenty to one. Not that he doesn’t like those odds, but it’s still not his preferred ending of the night.

There’s a whole lot of guns cocking, shiny barrels pointed at him, and a sharp flash of white is his teeth in the glow because he’s smiling at how cute that is.

His gauntlet spits out a whirly bird, other hand full of pellets, and it’s time to rock.

“…but the best thing to keeping yourself on the up-and-up, Timmy? Something you taught all of us?”

The room explodes in a cacophonous mess of shit just breaking. Everywhere. Shit is breaking all over the place, and he didn’t even move.

His mouth drops open a little as the Outlaws and a dozen members of the Justice League form a half circle around the busted out wall and face his bad guys with a whole lot of yes please, I’ll have this dance.

Nightwing is in the center, celly held up to his ear, and the expression on his face under the domino is downright murderous.

“You need to know when to call in some friends.”

The ensuing fight is just absolutely bullshit.

Every time. Every. Time. he jumps in somewhere to take someone down, another superhero catches him and throws him out of the way.

He understood Hood doing it. He understood B. He understood Flash. He even understood Superman and Wonder Woman, but when it’s fucking Booster Gold?

That is beyond insulting.

He got here first for fuck’s sake and already called goddamned dibs!

“Stay out of this or Batman is going to kick my ass,” Booster just lays it out, “and I would much rather not do that.”

His utter frustration is compounded when Cyborg is downloading all their data and sending it to the Watchtower for analysis, the baddies in charge are already being questioned and a team sent out to meet the buyers, the weapons are being safely transported away, and just!

Dibs!

But instead, he’s got to contend with the stalking Nightwing, growling low and dangerous under his breath. He doesn’t even get enough time to fight being pretty much thrown over one of the older vigilante’s shoulders.

“Dammit! Put me down.”

“Oh? You think that’s going to happen?” Nightwing growls in that tone and send shivers, just all the shivers.

“I’m fine, I swear. I was on a time limit, I didn’t–!”

One powerful kick and the door is banging open, reinforced locks breaking apart. The Batplane is waiting, warmed up and ready to go.

“C’mon! I don’t need all this! There were only twenty of them, dammit.”

And nope. He sees a week full of bed rest and cuddles with his name written all over it apparently because even the most minute movement had Nightwing’s hand clamping down hard on the back of his thighs, very, very close to a pressure point that will put him out for hours.

Shit. Just, shit.

“I should warn you in advance, though,” as the leap up puts them in the cockpit, course already set for Gotham, “Alfred? Is even more pissed than I am, Timmy.”

His eyes go wide behind the whiteout, and his scramble to run is thwarted as the plane starts to rise.

This is likely the last post I will do on this as it is entirely personal. But today is an incredibly significant day in my life. I’m writing this as it’s therapeutic to me. And it’s a story of hope.

I am currently tracing the exact steps made one year ago today. But the circumstances couldn’t be more different. I’m headed to Philly on the train and then to the children’s hospital in Delaware where my nephew continues to be an outpatient undergoing therapy. I personally haven’t been in moths though my family continues to go weekly.

My nephew’s accident that changed our lives forever actually happened on the 26th. But it’s a year ago today that I remember every detail.

One year ago today, I remember an early morning call where I was told to go to work and carry on. I remember vividly a second call. An hour later. Telling me to come home immediately. Ronan wasn’t likely to survive. He had gone into heart failure. A medical team spent 45 minutes reviving him. Even if he survived. His brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long.

For the next 4 hours. I moved on autopilot as I made my way from Brooklyn to Delaware. I was there as Ronan arrived from the trauma center in Camden to the children’s hospital in the ambulance. A transport vehicle my sister and her husband weren’t allowed into as it would mean one less medical Professional available to save his life.

I remember being called into a room to say goodbye to one of the most extraordinary human beings I have had the honor of knowing. I remember praying with an ordained minister who said “we will never know why God has chosen someone so young.” I remember telling extended family there was no hope.

And then it changed. My sister returned and said the neurosurgeon saw life. And after that extreme measures were taken to save Ronan.

We have since learned. He’s one of two documented cases in the world to survive his particular brain injury. One of 5 to survive a brain injury and be put on ecmo, the life support machine that he needed to undergo open heart surgery for it to be attached to his heart, requiring blood thinners, extremely dangerous to a patient with a brain bleed.

We have been told he’s a miracle with virtually no medical explanation as to how he survived. I struggle so much with religion. But I can’t deny something greater was involved.

So today my family celebrates a year of life. A day Ronan was all but gone and came back. We still have miles to go before we cross the finish line to a full recovery. But I am so thankful we are now on the path to recovery. I am so hopeful that Ronan will make a full recovery and that he will lead a full, wonderful life.

It also happens to be my sister’s birthday. As you can imagine. We did not even acknowledge it last year. And tonight we celebrate.

Ronan continues to be my hero. He is an tremendous young man and a warrior.

Small considerations between partners - 8 ‘Playing with fire’

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PLAYING WITH FIRE - Season seven. A few weeks post ‘All Things’ Mulder POV


It’s funny  how we can see a person every day and not truly know what’s going on with them. We can walk side by side for month upon endless month sharing space and time as we laugh together, cry together, and eat lunch together.  We can go for the occasional beer together to help wipe away the rigours of another day and sometimes, if we are extraordinarily lucky, we are able look into the face of that same person both last thing at night and first thing in the morning.

But despite all this, we don’t always see the bigger picture. 

Especially when the person is so damn adept at hiding things and especially when that person is Scully.

She’s always hidden things from me of course,  I accepted that as being a part of her complex personality a very long time ago – especially since I suspect that she learned much of the evasion technique from me.

Oh yes.  Team Spooky are very adept at hiding our true feelings as we barricade ourselves behind walls of our own making.

It’s just how things are.

But occasionally, the walls crumble just a little, widening a miniscule crack in the bricks and mortar which enables me to catch a glimpse of Scully’s innermost thoughts; her hopes; her fears.  

Just like I did earlier today.

Right now I’m lying on my back, staring at the patterns that the trees outside throw on the ceiling above, carefully not moving too much lest I disturb the woman who is sleeping beside me, clinging to me with hands that haven’t relaxed their hold on me even when she finally closed her eyes.  She hasn’t been asleep for very long and I know that sleep was a hard fought battle for her tonight, but I knew enough not to question her right then.  Instead I emotionally backed right off and swallowed down my concerns, feigning sleep so she was able to finally press her body against me and really, it was the only thing I could think to do.  Because, as the shadows lengthened on the ceiling, I kept turning my head to check she was ok.  And each time,  despite her best efforts, I caught a glimpse of those china blue eyes staring back at me before she slammed them shut.

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