i blame it on the lack of 'the walking dead' on my tv

'When We Rise' Is 'Appallingly Timely,' Activist Cleve Jones Says
Cleve Jones, whose memoir provides much of the basis for ABC's gay-rights miniseries "When We Rise," says the miniseries is "appallingly timely"

TheWrap spoke with Jones and Austin P. McKenzie, who plays him in part of “When We Rise.” McKenzie, best know for the Deaf West Theatre’s 2015 Broadway revival of “Spring Awakening,” plays the young Jones, while Guy Pearce plays him later in life.

TheWrap: Fifty years ago, CBS aired a special called “The Homosexuals,” in which Mike Wallace warned viewers the subject might be “disturbing.” What is it like to see this project air on a broadcast network?

Cleve Jones: It’s certainly a milestone and it’s very exciting, and I think for all of us real characters who were a part of this, we see this as an opportunity to move things forward. There are parts of it that are not exactly accurate, but it remains truthful to the movement and that’s what counts.

Why did you decide to take this on?

McKenzie: I remember reading the script for the first time in my apartment in New York City, and there are just some scripts you get, and the second you read it you just know you have to play the role. I didn’t really know why. I think maybe there was something about the way Cleve’s vulnerability was written. I was really connected to it.

Cleve, what is it like to have these actors portray you and figure out your mannerisms?

Jones: It’s an odd experience… I’ve been very fortunate to have three extremely talented actors portray me and could not be happier.

The Trump administration just rolled back protections for transgender students. The timing seems almost impeccable…

Jones: When we started working on the screenplay we certainly had no clue that any of this could have happened… If this series helps people figure out how to fight back, that’s good. But I’m not a single-issue person, and every issue I care about is at stake right now. So, it’s turning out to be appallingly timely.

Austin, do you consider yourself part of the LGBTQ community?

McKenzie: I consider myself a part of any movement that ‘s moving towards love and freedom and equality.

What did you learn from working on the series?

McKenzie: You don’t have to know the history of the movement or see the television show to want to fight for justice. I didn’t know any of this specific history. I didn’t know who Cleve Jones was or Roma Guy or Ken Jones, and I felt so privileged to have learned the history and to feel embraced by a community that is really rooting for this television show… Cleve was a big part of that learning process. When I first met him, he took me around the Castro. I call him the Jesus of the Castro Street… Cleve is so intimidating and then I met him, and he was like — I’m not sure I’m allowed to say it…

Jones: Watch it Austin!

McKenzie: He was rambunctious. I’ll say that much. I’m a big believer that you are as old as you act, and when when I met Cleve I felt like he was the youngest person I’d ever met. When I met him in San Francisco we walked around the Castro and he would point to the windows of an apartment he used to live in… He told me so many of  the windows of the Castro were splattered with blood from the riots, and he showed me the camera shop that Harvey [Milk] used to own… I think from then on, I really thought, I have to do this role the best that I can for Cleve. That was the end goal for me. I wanted to do justice by Cleve and that’s sort of what I woke up to on set every day.

Cleve, what was it like for you, knowing there’s a whole generation of gay people who have no real connection to this struggle, whether because they weren’t born yet or because there are so few people alive from that time?

Jones: I don’t blame younger generations for their lack of awareness. Americans in general are not interested in history. As I’m approaching 60, I was given so many death sentences over the years, that I realize I owe that to the movement and that’s not hyperbole, that’s not rhetoric. I would be dead if it weren’t for the movement.

Why a mini-series?

Jones: It’s all about the reach, of course. Even best-selling novels don’t have the reach of ABC. That’s just amazing. I think that it was smart for ABC to do this. They’re competing against very edgy boundary-pushing products out of Amazon and Netflix and Showtime and HBO and the rest. There’s an audience for it and I think the audience is huge.

Are you ready for what’s about to happen once this airs?

McKenzie: Am I ready for it? I’m too young to know anything about life. I’m trying to take it day by day.

Jones: I don’t anticipate that my life is going to change much as a result of this. I’m not a celebrity. I work for a a labor union. I’m an organizer. I live in a rent-controlled apartment in the Castro, trying to hang on here.

What do you think of the explosion in social engagement we’re seeing across the country these days?

Jones: I think it’s unlike anything this country has ever experienced, at least since the Great Depression or World War II. I think that’s how deep the crisis is. I believe we are entering into a period of political chaos. Out of that chaos is the potential for great evil, but there is also the possibility of great good.

Do you feel like Trump’s win has forced you out of retirement? 

Jones: Oh, who wants to to retire? What will I do? I don’t golf. I imagine I will drop dead on some picket line.

Austin, how has this changed you?

McKenzie: It’s going to sound strange, but I’m not really someone who likes to be in the spotlight. I’m not looking for fame. There’s a comfort in playing a real person because in a way, it takes the attention off me and puts it on this real person’s life.

Jones: I think I have to add something here. I don’t know Austin well, but I’ve paid attention to him for a while and this was an extremely difficult thing for him… He was subjected to a lot of pressure and real intense challenges and he had to struggle and he’s grown a lot as a man and is a stronger person because of this experience. I think he was profoundly changed by this experience in a very positive way and I’m proud of him.

Austin, that’s a nice compliment. How does that make you feel?

McKenzie: Wow. I feel known. I feel more respect for him. I’m just happy to hear that.

Cleve, what was it about Austin that made you and Lance think he was the right guy for the role?

Jones: We viewed videos of people reading the script. It was a bit different than my experience with “Milk” where I actually was aware of Emile [Hirsch] before. With Austin, his reading was good but then also there was this YouTube video of him performing. What’s the name of the song, Austin?

McKenzie: “Brother” by Matt Corby.

Jones: The quality of the video wasn’t great, but the performance gave me goosebumps.

Austin: I felt very happy that I could write that song for episode 3. I pitched a song called, “Thinking of You,” to Lance for the show and they took it. And when we first showed it to Cleve, that was a really good moment. I had written with the thought of some of the things Cleve went through, one of his lovers in particular, and they ended up using it and that was really satisfying for me.

You didn’t know each other before this project. How would you describe your relationship today?

McKenzie: The first day I met Cleve, and he’d spoken about “Milk” and Emile Hirsch, I remember him saying, “From this day forward we’re going to have a connection forever because you’re playing me and we’re going to have this connection regardless if we talk again or not.” I think that’s definitely true. I feel like I know him intimately now.

Jones: We’ve gotten to know each other and there will be a connection forever. It’s just how it is. The people that I met during “Milk,” those relationships are still evolving.

“When We Rise” premiers at 9/8c on ABC.

It Takes Two (2) - Negan Imagine

Chapter Summary: During an unexpected visit, you finally reveal your feelings to Negan - gaining an unexpected response from him. 

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Prompt: You live in Alexandria with your very sassy daughter, Riley. After Negan takes over, Riley grows to be the one and only person that challenges him - and to say the least, he loves it. 

Word Count: 2.3k 

Fandom: The Walking Dead 

Warnings & A/N: okay wow, everyone loves this story. THANKFULLY I love it too, aka i’ll actually update this story a lot like the responsible fic writer that i am not | *spoilers* (i think) mention of Negan’s backstory 

Theme: angst

Playlist | Tags: (if you want off or on the tag list let me know!) @negan–is–god @deepsouth


One, Three, Four, Five, Six

Originally posted by jdmfanfiction

Originally posted by diver5ion

A few days had passed since you had last seen Negan. Since then, you couldn’t seem to keep him off of your mind. You were stuck in a loop of pondering just who he was. You kept thinking it’d only be for the best - no matter Riley’s new obsession with Lucille - to keep her away from Negan.

Keep reading

the walking dead starters ( s7ep11.)


  • “ please. please don’t.”
  • “ please, god, no.”
  • “ i hate this. please!”
  • “ welcome home, haircut.”
  • “ there’s more at the library. a lot more.”
  • “ you… you have a library?”
  • “ s/he escaped?”
  • “ you know where s/he is?”
  • “ no. i’d tell you if i did.”
  • “ th-this’ll be satisfactory.”
  • “ you hungry?”
  • “ i’ll get you something. what do you want?”
  • “ what do i want?”
  • “ anything? really, anything i want?”
  • “ sure, whatever.”
  • “ dude, yes, you can have anything. what do you want?”
  • “ can i have lobster?”
  • “ no, you can’t have lobster.”
  • “ what the hell do you think this is?”
  • “ do you have canned pasta and tomato sauce?”
  • “ you want orange-y or red?”
  • “ i like pickles.”
  • “ number 42 is a coding system for persons here?”
  • “ okay, i’ll be back in ten.
  • “ enjoy your new place.”
  • “ good mornin’ sunshine.”
  • “ is it just as cozy as you remember?”
  • “ you spent a long time at the wrong side of the door.”
  • “ so let’s talk about now.”
  • “ you know anything about that, ___?”
  • “ i gotta tell you, that is one hell of a coincidence.”
  • “ was it you?”
  • “ did it work the other way around? you were supposed to break him/her. did s/he break you?”
  • “ i mean, let’s face it. you’ve got some pretty legitimate grievances.”
  • “ you change your stripes on me, ___?”
  • “ you startin’ to see things different?”
  • “ after all this… before and after… hell, after everything… who are you, ___?”
  • “so, do you think you know where ___ went?”
  • “ bring him/her back. sort it out.”
  • “ stitch him/her up. fix what you can fix.”
  • “ you don’t think s/he did it?”
  • “ you think s/he did?”
  • “ you were just beaten and thrown in a cell. unfairly, if you ask me.”
  • “ i like to think that i do.”
  • “ that’s exactly the kind of person who really isn’t…. expected to be around anymore.”
  • “ just trying to help.”
  • “ barber. might be able to kill that thing on your head.”
  • “ you’re one of us now, not them.”
  • “ they eat shit, we eat good.”
  • “ must be your lucky day, ___.”
  • “ are these homemade?”
  • “ that’s some good diy stuff there.”
  • “ no – no thank you.”
  • “ you want something, you take it, ___.”
  • “ there s/he is! wo/man of the hour!”
  • “ come on over here, big fella.”
  • “ don’t be rude asshole. say hello.”
  • “ … h-h-hello.”
  • “ you got a name, asshole?”
  • “ you see this right here? you might have to get real close.”
  • “ now, under normal circumstances, i’d be showing you that real close over and over again.”
  • “ but, see, all i really want to know is if you are a smarty-pants.”
  • “ you know things?”
  • “ answer the question.”
  • “ i- i am indeed a smarty-pants.”
  • “ even though my memory is not considered eidetic, i don’t skim and i don’t scrimp.”
  • “ if knowledge is dropped, i do indeed pick it up.”
  • “ oh, you really are just some asshole.”
  • “ n-no, i’m not.”
  • “ fire, with uh… you know… fire.”
  • “ uh, huh. all right, then, dr. smarty-pants. you ought to be able to crack this without breaking a sweat.”
  • “ how do we keep them on their feet?”
  • “ you already possess the means to resolve your issue.”
  • “ god damn! if that ain’t the coolest thing i’ve ever heard in my life!”
  • “ not only is that practical, it is just bad-ass!”
  • “ look at you, dr. smarty-pants.”
  • “ oh, their loss, our gain.”
  • “ i feel like i need to give you some kind of signing bonus here.”
  • “ uh, w- well, i wa- i was gifted these pickles.”
  • “ now, i don’t think i have to worry about this, but who knows how truly smart you are?”
  • “ that is a grave no-no.”
  • “ i wouldn’t know anything about that.”
  • “ what does dr. smarty-pants say to his/her new bestest friend in the whole wide world?”
  • “ thank you. fully, completely, sincerely, seriously: thank you.”
  • “ why don’t you go have some fun?”
  • “ what the hell am i even looking at?”
  • “ maybe you should take it easy, ___?”
  • “ maybe i shouldn’t.”
  • “ uh, we could play something else. warlords? it’s four players and quite the hoot.”
  • “ whatever you want. this is your night.”
  • “ do you want a massage?”
  • “ while i appreciate the gesture, and your commitment to your assigned objective, i am fully aware that you are not here this evening of your own volition.”
  • “ video games are all about me showing you a fun time.”
  • “ would you care for more microwave popcorn?”
  • “ hey, just because this was ___’s idea doesn’t mean that i don’t want to be here.”
  • “ i’d be down with just having an intelligent conversation.”
  • “ well… i suppose a conversation would be acceptable under the current circumstance.”
  • “ what would you like to talk about?”
  • “ i could talk about that shit all night.”
  • “ in all likelihood, even if i could, it would probably escape your comprehension.”
  • “ did s/he just insult us?”
  • “ it was not a dis, it was simply a statement of fact.”
  • “ my intelligence has been objectively measured.”
  • “ so, what, are you one of those guys who can make a bomb out of bleach and a toothpick or something?”
  • “ serious as sepsis.”
  • “ so stupid.”
  • “ i’m hoping to illustrate the opposite.”
  • “ did you just make helium out of toilet stuff?”
  • “ it’s cool. we’re good.”
  • “ hey, relax. you’re one of us.”
  • “ can you please just show me some good shit?”
  • “ i’m gonna light this candle.”
  • “ no, i mean, i’m gonna light this candle.”
  • “ i was given to understand that last night’s shinny was supposed to be a singular incident.”
  • “ i need your help.”
  • “ you aren’t afforded any… mental-health services?”
  • “ that would be wildly irresponsible.”
  • “ we’ll handle that part.”
  • “ look, i know that this is crazy, and that you barely know me.”
  • “ i can tell that you are a good person. there’s not many of those left.”
  • “ truth of the matter is i’m not good. i’m not lawful, neutral or chaotic, none of the above.”
  • “ are you saying you can’t do it?”
  • “ lack of ability is not the problem here.”
  • “ you are good, ___. you have to be.”
  • “ you kidding?”
  • “ hey, the line’s a line. what, they don’t have ’em where you come from?”
  • “ you don’t know how they work?”
  • “ which means you report directly to my ass.”
  • “ i didn’t know. we just – we get so many new faces, i didn’t…”
  • “ i don’t even know what you call this. i’m gonna call it a gremblygunk.”
  • “ where is s/he?”
  • “ i killed her/him.”
  • “ s/he ran away from me right into a mess of dead ones so, i, uh… made it quick.”
  • “ it still hurts.”
  • “ feels better with a bandage.”
  • “ i wasn’t talking about that.”
  • “ oh, we’ve all done things.”
  • “ before we got here. before we understood, we were cowards about it.”
  • “ we don’t- we don’t get to have big hearts. remember that.”
  • “ wh- what is this?”
  • “ you are gonna want to pay close attention to this.”
  • “ i – i didn’t do anything.”
  • “ i found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk.”
  • “ i don- i don’t know what that is.”
  • “ you… left the door open and let my puppy out.”
  • “ that is some weaselly shit right there.”
  • “ oh, s/he ran? you know why s/he ran?! because s/he knew i would blame her/him, which i did.”
  • “ it’s not true. __, s/he’s lying about it. i would never do it.”
  • “ why? why? why would s/he do that?”
  • “ why would s/he intentionally try to hurt you?”
  • “ so, what’s s/he gonna get out of this?”
  • “ it worked before, and it worked now.”
  • “ ain’t that right, ___?”
  • “ please, please, please! oh, jesus, don’t burn me. please! no…!”
  • “ no, no, please! no! no!”
  • “ now, you know i hate this shit.”
  • “ just tell me you did it and that you’re sorry and i won’t have to do this.”
  • “ yes– yes, i did it. all of it. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
  • “ please… i’m sorry. please. i’m sorry.”
  • “ that’s all you had to say.”
  • “ i trust you, ___. never should’ve doubted ya.”
  • “ i’m sorry.”
  • “ ice cold! i love it.”
  • “ are you all right?”
  • “ better than that.”
  • “ you can call next but it might be a while.”
  • “ i did. but you can’t have ‘em.”
  • “ do not insult my intelligence.”
  • “ said pills aren’t for __, said pills are for __. that’s why you wanted two.”
  • “ didn’t s/he kill your friends?”
  • “ turnabout and all that.”
  • “ you’re replaceable to him/her. i, on the other hand, am not.”
  • “ you’re a coward.”
  • “ that is a correct assessment.”
  • “ may i come in?”
  • “ so, how you liking it here?”
  • “ are we doing right by dr. smarty-pants?”
  • “ it’s all right. i get it.”
  • “ i know how hard it can be to accept change to get on the right team.”
  • “ i need you to understand something. i do not make this invitation to anyone. and i sure as shit do not make it lightly.”
  • “ hey… hey! you don’t need to be scared anymore.”
  • “ you don’t need to be scared. you just need to answer me one question. and it’s a big one.”
  • “ hey, be careful with that.”
  • “ hey, you want to get burnt by molten metal? ‘cause that’s exactly how you get burnt by molten metal.”
  • “ you on board?”
  • “ i am. just like you.”
The Thief and the Moon

Title: The Thief and the Moon

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Angel!Reader, Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,151

Warnings: Violence, Soulless!Sam, and Angst

Summary: Sam and the Reader dated before Sam threw himself into the pit. Now, Sam is back, and soulless. The Reader wants to stick it out with him until they are able to get his soul back and works with Dean to attempt to do so. Meanwhile, Sam finds out just what the reader is and blinded by the knowledge of hunting and lack of emotions he attacks her one evening.

Author’s Note: Yes, I am very aware this is much past the promised time of the next Imagine and yes, I am so very sorry. I did not manage my time very wisely and therefore there was a delay in this and I am awfully sorry and I hope this makes up for it. So now, finally and officially, my second imagine. (I promise my next one will be happier, and longer as this one was shorter than expected.) (Extra also I will probably add more in the morning as to how Sam found out Y/N was an angel, but if this posts reaches 30 likes I will make a part two of Sam getting his soul back and remembering what he did.)

Originally posted by canonspngifs

“You think it’s worth a shot?” Dean questioned. “It’s Sam, Dean, anything is worth a shot!” You proclaimed.

“I know I do I just think it’s far fetched and if it was to not work out I’d rather focus more on trying to find something that will then wasting our time on these small chances.” Dean argued back as you sighed.

“Well, I think we should give it a chance it’s our best lead in a whole week.” You said standing and looking at Dean waiting for a reaction to give you an answer.

“Fine I’ll go and check it out but you stay here with Mr. Soulless up there and keep an eye on him.” Dean said finalizing his conditions.

“Whatever just go.” You pushed him all the while he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his phone and keys.

“I’ll call when I get there.” He said walking up the stairs of the Bunker.

“You better!” You called out to him as he left with a shut of the door.

“Sam.” Crowley’s sudden voice filled Sam’s room as he stood to my feet.

“Crowley, haven’t seen you in a while.” Sam crossed his arms across his chest. “Not going to lie was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

“What a flirt you are Sam.” Crowley smiled. “Is that how you got that angel downstairs to fall for you?”

“Excuse me?” Sam stepped forward. “The hell are you talking about, Crowley?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about Sam. I’m talking about wings downstairs.” He said walking around Sam’s room.

“Wings? Her name is Y/N and she’s human.” Sam said uncertainty in his voice.

“How cute.” He looked at the art pictures on the wall. “You once loved with only your heart that your brain overlooked the creature she is. She’s a monster, Sam. Angels, they get a lot more credit than they deserve! She’s not your friend she’s not any of our friends. She’s got something evil up her sleeve and if you don’t take her out we all die!” Crowley yelled turning to me.

“What do you mean?” Sam inquired.

“I mean you know exactly what you have to do to save us all. Sam, Y/N has to die. Angels, their horrible things. Worse than all us others. They shed light on the world in what should be the darkness.”

“And that’s bad how?” Sam pushed.

“You like it in this body don’t you, Sam? Takes away the feelings, keeps things unattached. She wants to take that from you. Bring you back. She didn’t even ask for your consent, Sam!” Crowley hissed. “You have to stop her.”

“How?” Sam questioned.

“With this.” Crowley handed him the angel blade. “One nice jab and she’ll be dead.”

It had now been 2 days since Dean left and you had been left alone in the Bunker with Sam, only a few visits from Castiel to bring back your sanity. Now, with Sam still asleep in the room you two shared, Dean M.I.A, and Castiel gone for the next couple of hours, you sat in front of the TV with a small bag of popcorn to satisfy your boredom. You were an Angel and in no need for food or any other earthly possessions. You merely wanted to eat to give you something to do.

“Ha.” You chuckled watching the lame cartoon of the dog slipping on the banana peel, thus before a blade was pressed to your throat.

“I know what you are.” You heard the deep and dark voice of your boyfriend, well, the shell of your boyfriend. His breath heavy and hot against the hair resting on your shoulders and on the back of your neck.

“Sam,” You started cautious of the angel blade pushed sharp against your throat. “Sam, I am begging you not to do this.” You pleaded with him.

“It’s time I extinguish this light of yours.” He said cutting across my chest and I cried out as my Grace shines through. “I’ll put an end to all the light that you shed on this world in it’s darkest state.” He whispered arm locked across my chest dragging the blade across my cheek making a cut, and I hissed.

“You don’t know a thing about what you seek do you?” You said gripping the couch’s armrest tight as he cut you once more. “You’ll doom the world to wonder in darkness without a bit of light to guide them down the path that men seek.” I glared at him as he looked at me over my shoulder. “Your only loyalties lie with the devil and yourself Sam Winchester,” I said seeing pure hatred and evil in his eyes. “The earth will rise up and devour all that you are.” I hissed. “The skies will call forth thunderous storms from afar.” I said through the grit of my teeth hearing the thunder from outside in that moment in time. “And when you’re dead there will be no grave to remember your name for your hatred will bring your end and there will be no one but yourself to blame.” I said hearing the door open and saw Dean.

“Sam, no!” He yelled right before I felt the sharp pierce in my stomach and I looked to Sam tears in my eyes resting my hand on his cheek as I sunk to the floor Dean pushing Sam away as he smirked and Dean looked at me.

“Don’t you die on me, Y/N. Please!” He pleaded with me.

“I love you, Dean.” I whispered. “Tell Sam- Tell my Sam I love him. Don’t let him blame himself.” He held me until I felt myself fall into a darkness.

Smile, Doll Face Pt. 2

Part 1

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Joker x Reader

Warning: Smut

Hey peeps! So, here’s part two. Sorry for the wait and for the lack of quality in this one. I’m not very good at writing part 2′s to stories. But anyway, I hope you guys don’t hate it too much. 

P.S. I really can’t do a part 3 if anyone wants it. Sorry, homies.

As your loud yawn echoes through the parking lot, you try to rub the tiredness from your eyes. You’re exhausted. Even though you have a nice stack of cash now, you’re still working at the news station. You haven’t been out in the field much since the robbery, which is mostly due to your boss. He can be a nice guy when he wants to be. Recently, all you’ve been doing is organization in the storage rooms and cleaning at the end of the day. Now that you think about, you’re not sure if he’s trying to be nice or if he’s just having you clean so he doesn’t have to hire a janitor. Right now, you’re betting on the latter. But still, you can’t really blame him. Even with the simple tasks he gives you, productivity has gone down. Way down. You try to work hard, you really do, but your mind always finds its way back to the robbery. Back to The Clown Prince. Sometimes you look over your shoulder, expecting him to be there with a wild grin plastered on his face and your camera clutched in his hand.

You huff and get into your car, plopping into the drivers seat and tossing your bag to the side.

You freeze when you notice an envelope taped to the steering wheel. You click on the light and lock the doors out of instinct.

“What is…” your voice trails off when you see the cursive handwriting on the back.

♡ Doll Face♡

Your lips curl up into a grin and you rip the envelope open, shaking out its contents.

You swear loudly when you see the pictures fall out. The pictures he took. You flip through them, your breathing a little bit heavier with each one.

He wrote on the photos with red sharpie. Each one said something different.

“What a pretty little slut”

“Daddy’s good little girl”

“Kitten loved playtime, didn’t she?”

The last picture was of you covered in his cum with your tongue out.

Daddy’s coming for you, Doll Face. You’re never leaving my sight again.
                                             ~See you soon~

After staring for a few more minutes, you put the pictures back in the envelope and stuff it into your bag.

You start the car and pull out of the parking lot. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you head home.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you walk into your apartment. You kick the door shut and make your way to the kitchen. You smile as you rummage through the fridge. You have to admit, it’s nice to finally have money. You get to eat actual food, instead of instant noodles and TV dinners.

“I was wondering when you’d come home.”

You shriek and jump, slamming your head into the fridge with a thud.

“Fucking shit!” You exclaim, turning around and rubbing the top of your head.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

The Joker is in your kitchen.

The Joker is in your fucking kitchen!

It all feels so…surreal.

Then you realize how fucking stupid you look. Staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

He said he was coming to get you.

Whether you totally believed it at the time is a different story. But that shit doesn’t matter because he’s actually here.

“I didn’t think you would…wait…how the fuck did you get in here?”

Before he can answer, you cut him off.

“That’s a stupid question. You’re a criminal. Obviously you have your ways. How long have you been in here? I mean, you had enough time to put the pictures in my car-”


“-and to come back here but my job is over an hour away so you must’ve been here-”

“Kitten!” He growls, shutting you up.

He stalks closer to you and you look towards the floor.

“I uh, I talk a lot…when I’m nervous. Sorry,” you mumble.

“Look at me,” he instructs, tilting your chin up.

You bat your eyelashes at him and study his face, your eyes filled with curiosity.

“I don’t know your name, doll.”

You giggle. “That’s a lie.”

He grips your chin tighter but you keep your eyes on him.

“You’re telling me you hung around in my apartment and didn’t look through my mail?” You quip with a smirk.

He grins and releases your chin.

“You’re a smart one, Y/N.”

“So, uhm, Joker-”

“J,” he corrects.

“Right, J. What exactly did you mean by the whole, ‘you’re never leaving my sight again’ thing?”

“I take it back. Not as smart as I thought,” he says.

“I just…find it hard to believe that you want me.”

“What’s so hard to believe? I told you I take what I want. If I didn’t want you, you’d already be dead,” he states.

Was that supposed to make you feel better?

You can’t do this, can you? You have a job and a life.

A shitty job and a boring life. A miserable life that you’ve always wanted to be rid of. You can totally do this! It’s not like you have much of a choice anyway.

“So,” you say, locking your arms around his shoulders.

“Where are we going?”

J smiles madly with an insane look in his eyes and pulls you closer by your hips.

“Before we go anywhere, Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

He tosses you over his shoulder and carries you towards the bedroom, slapping your ass before throwing you down on to the bed.

He’s on top of you in an instant, biting at the exposed flesh on your neck and running his hands down your sides.

You eagerly pull his shirt off, tossing it across the room. You gasp when you feel a sharp pinch on your stomach. You look down to see his knife ripping up through your shirt…and your bra.

“Oh, not again! That was my favorite bra,” you whine with a pout.

“I’ll buy you more, princess,” he says, yanking down your pants.

He crawls back up to you capturing your lips roughly, sliding his tongue into your mouth. His cock presses against your pussy and you moan, lifting your hips up into him. He shoves your hips down and you can feel him smirking. His hand travels down your stomach, dipping between your legs. His hand moves against you and you arch into his touch. He sucks your nipple into his mouth, giving you a small bite. You whimper and push your hips up again, only for him to slam them back down into the mattress. His hand flies around your throat, gripping it tightly.

“Behave, kitten,” he growls.

“Please,” You say breathlessly.

“Please what?”

You swallow hard. “Please, daddy. I need you,”

“Fine,” he says, releasing your neck and rolling on to his back.

“Why don’t you take a seat on Daddy’s face, princess.”

You don’t hesitate to kick off your panties and straddle his head, giving him perfect access to your dripping mound.

He teasingly flicks his tongue against your clit before delving in. You shudder and grip tightly on to his hair. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and now it’s finally happening! All that pent up sexual frustration will finally be released.

You roll your hips, slowly grinding your clit against his tongue, occasionally hitting the cold metal of his teeth. His fingers dig into your hips, keeping you still while his tongue does all the work, lapping at your heat and playing with your wetness. His cock hardens more with every moan and squeak that escapes your lips.

You taste better than he imagined and boy, did he imagine. The late nights spent with only the pictures he took and his right hand to keep him company.

No, you weren’t the only one waiting for this.

He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you further down on his mouth. He can’t get enough of your flavor.

His tongue flicks and swirls faster against you, your legs clench tighter around his head and you make a strangled noise.

“I’m so close,” you whimper.

He starts sucking on your sensitive bud and you cry out, tossing your head back.

The familiar tingling pools in your lower abdomen and you know you won’t last much longer.

Your hands bury into his hair and you grind your hips again, ignoring the sting from his grip.

“Fuck, daddy!” You scream out.

His eyes lock hungrily onto yours when you reach your orgasm, pleasure rippling throughout your body.

He presses a gentle kiss to your clit before sliding out from under you. You collapse forward onto the bed with a content sigh.

“We’re not done yet, kitten.”

You gasp when you feel his cock push inside you. He holds your hips down into the mattress and pulls out slowly just to slam back inside you again.

“You’re so tight,” he groans, thrusting faster.

You bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans as he pounds into you. Yanking you up by your hair, he wraps his hand around your neck and growls in your ear.
His hot breath tickles your skin, sending shivers down your body, despite the sweat covering you.

He squeezes tighter and you claw at his hands but he slams into you harder. Your vision goes fuzzy and your ears ring but he’s not letting up. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, glaring at you with a snarl.

Fucking hell, he’s strong!

You suck in a huge breath when he let’s go, but you’re face down on the mattress again with him right on top of you.

It’s getting too intense and you bite down on the pillow, digging your nails into the sheets.

Your walls spasm around him and he smirks, reaching around to rub your clit

“Come on, kitten. Cum for daddy,”

That’s all it takes to push you over the edge.

You quiver and mumble incoherently as you ride out an electrifying orgasm.

His thrusts are sloppy and hard, his breath is hot on your neck and he tangles his fingers in your hair.

He slams into you violently, shooting his cum inside you.

“You’re so good, kitten,” he whispers, burying his face in your hair.

That’s it. There’s no turning back now.

This is the beginning of your new life.

And you will always belong to The Clown Prince.

Whether you like it or not.

Color Me Blue - Rap Monster/Kim NamJoon

Originally posted by ksjknj

Summary: It’s a simple fight due to lack of love, and he’s willing to fix it.

Genre: Angsty and fluffy at the end

Warning: None really

A/N:  I honestly don’t know why I titled it this, and this might be shit. Enjoy. The first request is now taken care of today! Sorry, I know that smut was supposed to be in here, but I can’t write smut for my life, at least not yet. I hope you like this though! I don’t know if I love it honestly speaking. It’s my first BTS scenario though! My inbox is always open and loves being filled with messages!

~ Brooklyn


People have described your relationship with Kim NamJoon as the colors red and blue together. They’re beautiful opposites; ones a warm color, the other cool. One color is bold, drawing everybody’s attention. The other color is calm, loved by those who notice it. You were blue, cool and calm. NamJoon was red, warm and bold. He’s the eye catcher, not that it’s surprising, he is an idol after all. The idol life isn’t always comforting though. The fans, although they love, can be so hurtful. He knew it could be hard on you, but he didn’t realize how hard it could be.

Two weeks ago NamJoon let the cat out of the bag about your relationship. Honestly, you thought that you were ready for the response, but you weren’t. His fans came at you with no regrets. Twitter, Instagram, YouTube comments, hell people even sent you letters. You knew to stay away from social media for a while. Only text your family and your close friends, and the boys of course. It still wasn’t exactly easy for you, all the threats to your life causing your mental health taking a toll on you.

To make matters worse, comeback season came. He was always at the studio, always with the boys. Always making the fans love him, but hate you more. You knew you shouldn’t care about what the fans think about your life. What you don’t know is how NamJoon sees you. He hasn’t been there for you in a good few months, not that you completely blame him, it’s his job. It wasn’t the first time he’s had a comeback while in his relationship with you. You knew how to take care of yourself with him gone, but this year’s comeback took its toll on you.

Keep reading

Bullet Proof- Chapter 9

Hey guys. I am so so sorry this update has taken me so long. Moving really made a disaster of my life, and I have had next to know spare time in the last few weeks. As I mentioned before, we are nearing the end of Bullet Proof, most likely only one, maybe two, chapters left. I have plans for sequels, if people are interested. As always thanks to @jordan202 for the support!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

“Uhhh guys, you know there are cameras in here right?”

Amelia and Owen sprang apart. Owen searched aimlessly for his shirt, eyes fixed on the camera.

“Your shirt is behind you man,” Henry laughed enjoying seeing the two panic.

Owen spun around and threw his shirt back on in one swift motion. Amelia crumpled into a fit of laughter.

“Amelia,” Owen hissed. “This is not funny!”

“Actually man,” Henry’s voice replied. “It kind of is. But don’t worry; I’m the only one in the security office right now. Just copying the footage to take back to the lab, I’ll make sure this part gets left out.”

Amelia and Owen let out collective sighs of relief.

“Don’t worry,” Henry continued. “I won’t mention this to anyone, but don’t think this is the last you’ll be hearing about it from me.” Henry teased.

Amelia and Owen sighed knowing Henry would not let them live this down.

“Alright, alright,” Amelia groaned. “Just leave us alone so we can come upstairs and see the crime scene.”

Henry piped down and Owen and Amelia road the rest of the way up in silence.

When Amelia and Owen reached the 32nd floor both were trying hard not to make eye contact with each other.

“Well there you are!” Henry smirked sensing how uncomfortable they both were. “What took you so long? Teddy said you guys left her downstairs, yet somehow she beat you here.” He spoke loudly purposefully drawing attention to the two.

“Uhhh elevator troubles…” Owen mumbled.

“Wow, good thing I caught the other elevator,” Teddy teased knowingly, appearing beside Henry.

“Henry,” Amelia hissed. “You said you weren’t going to tell anyone!”

“I can’t keep anything from Teddy,” he protested. “She’s my wife.” The two shared a sentimental smile.

Keep reading

All This Bad Blood Here Pt. 2

A/N: so I totally am late on this and I apologize. This was meant to be a little longer but it’s kind of just some one shots. I might continue it but only after I finish everything else. If I add anything else, it’ll be when Merle returns. Just let me know if you want more.I hope you like it!!


Hi, I hope you continue the feud storyline I love it

can we get more of the bad blood story plz

do a second part of all this bad blood pleeeease

Please please please continue - All This Bad Blood Here. I’m loving it so far. I already know it’s going to be AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZING!

Song: Wonderwall by Oasis


You continued to see Daryl Dixon whether it’s when you are on the porch as he is on his or if he call is working on his bike in the driveway. Every time you talked to him, you could feel yourself getting drawn in. He was like a sip of ice cold water after you’d been outside all day; he was like this personification of relief.

Everyday was a battle for you; it always had been when you were alone. The silence gave you time to hear your own thoughts loud and clear, not a good thing.

But Daryl took that away. He would just breathe and you’d be okay. Those feelings were so foreign to you and confusing. No one had ever made you feel like that before.

Before you knew it, he slowly crawled into your lonely life. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either situation, it was definitely an adjustment; a good one, though.

Keep reading

Story (Chato Santana x Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Chato’s tragic backstory, car crash

(A/N: Ain’t it a happy story? ^_^)

Huge shout out to my dearest @amee99 , my co-writer on this one.

Originally posted by suicidesquadsource

Her sobs filled the small rented taxi cab. The driver sighed as the girl cried louder and louder.

He tried to focus on the road but her uneven breathing didn’t help as it would make him check her from the rear mirror every now and then.

He took a turn when she started hyperventilating. She clutched her shirt and tried desperately to take a breath, just a little of oxygen to help her carry on. Her eyes stung and her face became even redder.

Keep reading

Assassin Michael Pt. 2

Requested: Yes

Summary: Michael has been trying to hunt down Ashton for the past three days straight, and to no avail he can’t find any trace of him. His partner, Luke is worried about him and tells him that it would be best if he goes home to rest. Little does Michael know that he wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night.

Word Count: 1,418

Keep reading


From your first smile, to laugh, to the moments you twirled around in your pretty blue dress you’ve desired freedom. You love to run away, to explore, to create and make messes. You have been the greatest gift, the most wonderful companion. It has been quite the adventure.

But for years you’ve been lied to, stolen from, hurt, cut, malnourished, and hated. Death has been wished apon you and most importantly you were abused. You took orders from a computer screen, the television told you you weren’t thin enough, and the magazines created an unbearable lack of confidence. No matter how hard you tried, you could never be thin enough, curvy enough, fit enough, beautiful enough. You simply could not be enough.
In grade six it began. The voice inside your head began to friend you. He seemed to promising, so lovely. He promised beauty, popularity, endless attention from boys, and to finally be loved. Oh, how you desired love.

He took over your curious mind - “your fat. ” he said “no one could ever love… This. ”

He twisted your imagination and desires - to long for a thin beautiful body.

He took over your beautiful brown eyes - as they started to compare

He took over your mouth - oh how he wouldn’t dare allow you to swallow “unhealthy foods”

He created an obsession over your stomach. It has to be flat. It had to be tight and perfect. Your skin had to JUST cover your weak malnourished brittle bones. You were uncomfortable wearing tight clothing and wore clothing way too large for your frame. Small amounts of food were only allowed.

He grabbed your hands - controlled them. Found scissors to cut your small wrists, to cut your stomach. He shoved your fingers down your througt as you purged. After every meal, snack, bite.

He stole your legs. They ran until they shook. He worked then until the stairs at school were impossible.

Your body was his. ED took over your life.

Searching daily, how to be thinner, you went days without food. You missed classes, roamed the halls with foggy eyes - Concentration was impossible.
When you came home from school, you laid in bed all night. Your heart burned. You were numb. Nothing could be felt except the scars on your wrists and your protruding bones.

Your parents stopped asking you to come for supper, if they did ED screamed.

Mother cried all the time, father became angry and I lost my brothers and all my friends.
He left you alone
He promised popularity, boys and love.
But all he did was take it away.
He took your joy, your friends, ended things with your boyfriend, and your parents gave up not knowing how to help.
He took school from you.
You were always in the hospital. Answering the same stupid questions. You knew them off by heart.

You had given up. I don’t blame you. Four years of no help, no joy, complete lies.

The doctors looked you in your foggy black eyes “ Bailey, your dying….Bailey?”
He found you help when he saw that you didn’t care. Death wasn’t scary to you, you were dead for four years.

ED took you alone, many times. But this time when no one was home you stared at a handful of pills in your shaking pale hands. With a glass of sweet juice to swallow the pain.

A gentile voice stopped you, so you found vodka. A lot. And fell asleep. Mom and dad finally agreed to take you to cheo when you screamed, cried, wished for death.

He tried to kill you.

But you made it.

Your tiny hands are holding this pen writing your story.
As your eyes are filled with tears, I am thankful.
Cheo took your tiny body and fed it, helped it recover, loved it and brought life into your once dead heart.

You fought for four years to keep me alive. To hold me up. To keep my gentile, brave heart pumping.

You didn’t cave in.
You fought for freedom, for recovery, and here you are.

Your beautiful dirty feet take you on adventures daily. Walking in the middle of the road shoeless with the wind blowing in your once again shiny hair.

Your legs take you places. They run towards your friends you haven’t seen since you left school. They dance and they leap with joy.

Your stomach loves you, for finally feeding it. It’s smiling.

And your beautiful mind once again works at 100%. It imagines and dreams, oh how it can dream. It gets lost and wonders.

So keep fighting Dailey, as I promise to love and nourish you. Eat birthday cake on YOUR birthday and go change this world.

You are beautiful
You are healthy
And I love you so much.
You hella fine.
Love Bails XO

Ps. When ED tells you not to take the brownie, take two brownies and tell that frigger who’s boss.

—  BMJ
Times Have Changed Part One

Title: Times Have Changed – Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,268 (w e l p)

Warning: Somewhat gory description, Swearing,  

A/N: I am so ashamed of myself lmao this took me so damn long bc I was just lazy. Anyway, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but if it was it would be 6,000 words long, so I’m putting it into three parts. Thanks to my Ohana for helping me plan out the rest of this fic!! (flashbacks in bold italics)

@thinkwritexpress @winchester-with-wings @samtomydeanwinchester @writingsofwinchesters @cestladoulerexquise @castihelloboys @talesoftheimpala @winchesterfiesta

This was based on a request by @captain-loki-army: Could you do sorta a flashback for Dean to one of his High school flings. Like he finds out she’s a hunter now because something killed her family only days after he left. He feels he’s to blame but she tries to comfort him. And well, you get the context.

The blood was spattered on the walls in a wide, gory arc, and at the bottom sat your Mom. Dull eyed and limp, with a jagged line torn across her throat, still dripping dark red, staining her once pretty white dress. Her face was twisted in horror, frozen in fear, and a glowing blue handprint wrapped tight around her arm. You backed away, stifling a scream. You ran through your house, grabbing your brother’s baseball bat, hoping, praying that the rest of your family were okay.

Keep reading

Trying to make sense of nonsense

So it’s been over a week since Arrow killed off Laurel Lance, the Black Canary, and despite reblogging a lot of posts and voicing my annoyance, it has been difficult for me to actually write a coherent piece trying to make sense out of this nonsense.

 It’s hard for me to decide what annoys me the most about the whole Laurel death. Is it the fact that she was not given a hero’s death despite Guggenheim talking about it being earned?, or the fact that on her death bed she is shipping 0l1c1+y?, or maybe it is the fact that Katie only finds out about her character getting killed off when they are shooting episode 16?, or Marc’s attempts to reduce our outrage to Lauriver shipping and asserting that her story reached a creative plateau?, or how about the fact that her only storyline this year was resurrecting Sara, which almost undid her character growth?. 

Actually, I think my anger stems from the fact that these writers have consistently treated the actress and character with disrespect from the very beginning, so it is not surprising that her death reflected that. Someone wrote a post on the many deaths of Laurel criticizing the writer’s spin on the GA/BC romance. While I do not appreciate the bashing of Arrow’s Black Canary, I have to admit that turning the second most iconic female Justice Leaguer into the civilian love interest was one of the biggest injustices done to the character, especially when they decided to add sister swapping into the mix. Then the audience said there was no chemistry so her character got penalized by becoming an alcoholic and drug addict while Oliver’s mistake got excused and justified by the writers. Suddenly, she was blamed for Oliver cheating on her with Sara because Laurel called the cops on Sara, who was framed as his female counterpart in every way. 

By the time the show got around to making her Black Canary, Marc is liking comments calling Felicity the female lead (she will never be in my eyes), 0l1c1+y is the primary focus of the show, she is  being given the Canary Cry on The Flash but it is never explained on Arrow, and pivotal scenes that would have shown her growth in Team Arrow end up on the cutting room floor. I hoped her exclusion would end after season 3 but I was wrong. 

 TPTB had promised Laurel fans that they will be happy in season 3 so at least we were not duped in Season 4 but the disrespect given to her this year started before that stupid grave scene. There was the controversial board  that had every cast member but Katie’s, the constant shilling of OTA and 0l1c1+y, and the writers reblogging fan art excluding her. So with the lack of a storyline for her except Sara’s resurrection,  five minutes of screen time, her glaring absence in the Flash crossover, not getting a mention in Mericle’s interviews. I started being afraid that she could be in the grave. Still I hoped they wouldn’t be so stupid.

As much as I hate the paps who leaked it, I am glad they revealed the death ahead of time so I stopped watching the show. I probably would have been angrier than I am right now. Did the Black Canary really have to die as a punishment for her father betraying Damien Dhark, instead of dying protecting someone?. Was it necessary to have her last words be about her being a defeated or failed love interest, instead of her growth as a character?. What is Guggenheim even talking about when he says her story had plateaued and that they had to pay off the grave scene in the first episode?. This is a character with years of history in the comic books. Even though it was obvious that she was no longer going to be the love interest, there were many directions her character could go. She was yet to have a personal villain so giving her one would have been a good way to show her character growth and add more “pop” than death. They could have explored the contradictions of working inside and outside the law. With a villain as a mayor, we could have seen her rethink her career path, and whether she preferred vigilante justice even if it meant her leaving her friends and family behind. I mean, we saw her connect with Nyssa and will see her with Vixen, so why not have her leave town and work with them. Hell, an organic canary cry might have created story lines for her since she would have had to learn to control her powers and exercise restraint. Come to think of it, her tech Canary Cry could have had her dealing with the control of her “powers”, and when to use restraint. The excuse that they have reached a creative plateau just does not make sense at all.

Why the show needed a death to revitalize interest in the show is beyond me. They said they were going for a lighter season so why kill someone off. This problem is not just limited to Arrow but seems to be an irritating trend in television these days. I don’t know if it is because of Game of Thrones or Walking Dead but apparently the death of a character has become an alternative to character development. I believe an article cited five character deaths in the same week, all of them women, including Abbie Mills, the lead character of Sleepy Hollow (there is no way the show is escaping cancellation). Character deaths may seem edgy and bring the sense of stakes but when done as a gimmick or handled poorly, you get absurdities like the death of Laurel Lance. Guggenheim’s interviews have shown that it was done for shock value, and probably because he assumed she was the least popular so there will be minimal backlash. He didn’t count on the fact that viewers were warming up to her, or that we will see through him. If there is anything I have liked about the death is the backlash the show is receiving for this stunt. The episode got low ratings, a lot of viewers were pissed off and are contemplating dropping the show. Critics panned the death scene, even those who seemed to be anti-Laurel. Given how TPTB sabotaged the character from the start, I am not surprised her death was also handled with minimal care for the character, the actress and her fans. I am just happy that people are finally realizing what has always been a writing problem.

A lot of fans blamed Katie for Laurel’s lack of popularity, calling her a bad actress or a bad person that is difficult to work with. While there might be truth to Katie not being the writer’s choice, everything I see from her tells me she is a professional and classy person who does well with what she has been given, and tries to exude positivity even though it must be demoralizing to sign up to be lead actress, only to have everything taken from her. On the other hand, Guggenheim and the other writers have shown little professionalism and class. Ask a question about Laurel on Tumblr, and he either turns it into a shipping question or makes a comment that can potentially instigate fandom wars. Then he uses Katie’s classy tweet to wag his fingers at her fans. He claims to never take story ideas from the internet but 0verw@tch, the Fern video, and the Quentin and Donna relationship easily refute his claims. Writers calling people bozos for not liking 0l1c1+y, and making Laurel’s death about Felicity, despite the two spending little time together tell me that they are unprofessional and tone deaf so it is not surprising it shows in the writing. Despite viewers citing season 3 as the beginning of the decline in quality, Slade’s motivation and Moira’s mayoral candidacy are but two examples of the decline beginning in season 2. It is no wonder poor writing has become the norm in season 4.

Some people have tried to oppose Laurel fans for voicing our displeasure, with Stephen telling us we are making a mistake for quitting the show but truth be told, we Laurel fans have been suffering since the show started, and despite being excited when she became Black Canary, “disappointed but not surprised” soon became a common sentiment in our side of the fandom. There really is not much to keep us as viewers. The  writing has declined, Marc’s attitude is off-putting, they could barely respect the Black Canary when alive or on her death bed, so why should anyone expect her to be treated with respect when she is in the grave, and the people who screamed OTA also called for her death so seeing OTA will always leave a bad taste in my mouth. I guess I should be happy Black Siren is on the table but I need to see how she is handled on The Flash first. Last year, she was handled so well that a reviewer was forced to rethink their opinion on Katie’s acting. The way she is handled there will inform my watching of her subsequent appearances in the Legends of Flarrowverse. That said, I can’t see myself watching Arrow whether they bring Laurel back or not. I hope the people who declared they were done actually put their money where their mouth is. Maybe the show’s loss of viewers and ratings will make TPTB rethink the way they treat an actress, her characters and her fans.

YOURS TO LOVE - part 3/4

Its weeks after yours and Luke’s drunken shenanigans and Michael can’t sleep. The only thing lighting up the room was the occasional lighting, thunder was roaring outside and rain was lashing against the windows. Yet you were fast asleep, looking peaceful and free, and Michael has never felt so separated from you; even though you are right there, head resting on his arm as pillow and with his other arms you as a blanket.
He thinks he’d be your blanket if you needed him to. Be your pillow, your bag and carry what you need. Be the clothes on your back, a bullet proof west, be your laugh and reason and be your loyal lover and friend and keep every secret you ever reveal. He thinks he’d be whatever you’d want him to be.

He just fears that what you will need him to be is an accepting ex-boyfriend who doesn’t mind you dating his best friend.

He holds you tighter, feeling the warmth of your body spreading to his chest. Lately his mind has begun to wonder, creating scenarios in his head of you and Luke; full of love and happiness for each other and then he, left out and forgotten in the cold, only remembered when he is to be pitied.

He pulls you even closer, tells himself it is to keep warm; to keep that empty hollowness away from his chest, and not to keep you there, keeping you from running away to Luke.

He lets go of you a little, he doesn’t want to make you feel trapped, he doesn’t want to trap you.

Keep reading