stupid dimples

Leading Suspects

Summary: When an old friend in need reaches out to Katniss, she returns to the small town she swore she’d never set foot in again. Help Madge and then leave, she decides. But a murder investigation and one sheriff with stupid blue eyes and dimples all conspire to keep her where she thought she’d never want to be.

WARNINGS: RATED E for mentions of domestic abuse, character death, mild language to include racial slurs, an obscene love affair with coffee, and explicit sexual content.

This piece was lovingly crafted for my dear friend and beta, @peetabreadgirl, to celebrate her birthday. It’s based on a book I recently read and immediately had to Everlark because…well you’ll see. The book is Jed Had to Die by Tara Sevic. I am neither Tara Sevic nor Suzanne Collins and thus technically do not own the basic storyline or the characters. This is pure fun. Also, it’s multi-chapter, but they will be significantly shorter than my chapters usually are. Enjoy! Love you, PBJ! <3



There are few things a woman wouldn’t do for her one true love in this life. Maim, murder, wreck, and ruin. Because we all know that your one true love is reserved for that singular soul who inspires your heart and then protects it. Strong, dependable, forgiving, amazing. These are the qualities that garner affection. Especially at times when your love reliably comes through to rescue you from a horrible day. Enter Theo.

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okay we were having an ordinary “my father is a homophobe” kind of day WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN I PRESSED THE FLIRT BUTTON BY ACCIDENT AND 


anonymous asked:

even though mob seems pretty pissed off right now, i don't feel like he's trying to exorcise dimple completely. we saw him blast that big hole in dimple like during the LOL cult chapter, but after that it was mostly slapping and punching (albeit with a fair amount of psychic force behind it). maybe mob is trying to weaken dimple just enough so that he can reason with him? although he doesnt seem to have "talking it out with his giant evil ex-buddy" very high in his priority list right now.

mob’s true intentions are yet unknown, but i agree that he probably doesn’t intend to exorcise dimple; dimple’s just jumping to conclusions, as he often does. i think mob just had to let dimple have it after he crossed the line with those comments. stupid dimple, acting like he knows tsubomi when he doesn’t even know about mob’s most recent interaction with her, wherein mob successfully read the atmosphere and came to her rescue in a dire snot situation and she said they should talk sometime soon, all of which indicate quite plainly to the audience that she isn’t actually out of his league. this dramatic irony is killing me.

but yeah, i think you’re right about the weakening. he probably wants dimple to shut up and quit trying to recruit him so they can start a real conversation, a conversation led by mob. because i’m sure mob has a lot of questions. 

maybe after fighting touichirou, mob is more pessimistic about the “trying to talk things out with someone in the heat of battle” thing, and that’s why he’s aiming to cool dimple down first. although i think mob may also need to cool down a bit. the slapping probably helped in that respect.

Leading Suspects - Chapter 3

Summary: When an old friend in need reaches out to Katniss, she returns to the small town she swore she’d never set foot in again. Help Madge and then leave, she decides. But a murder investigation and one sheriff with stupid blue eyes and dimples all conspire to keep her where she thought she’d never want to be.

WARNINGS: RATED E for mentions of domestic abuse, character death, mild language to include racial slurs, an obscene love affair with coffee, and explicit sexual content.

This piece was lovingly crafted for my dear friend and beta, @peetabreadgirl, to celebrate her birthday this month. It’s based on a book I recently read and immediately had to Everlark because…well you’ll see. The book is Jed Had to Die by Tara Sevic. I am neither Tara Sevic nor Suzanne Collins and thus technically do not own the basic storyline or the characters. This is pure fun. Also, it’s multi-chapter, but they will be significantly shorter than my chapters usually are, and I plan to post one chapter every other day. Enjoy! Love you, PBJ! <3

Chapter 1 Here

Chapter 2 Here


“I look like the night of the living dead!” I say, glancing once more in the mirror at my water splashed face to make sure I don’t have anymore drool tracks down my chin. Behind me, Madge chuckles. I’m just so happy to hear that sound that I keep going, hoping to draw more laughter out of her. “And you’re no help. I basically molested Hot Guy Bearing Coffee’s chest and you didn’t even have the decency to wake up and stop me from making a fool of myself.”

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does anyone else remember how popular it was in fanon for Bakura to be this suave criminal mastermind, tall dark stranger-type motherfucker?

I’m so glad we’re now moving onto the era of Dorky McAsshole Bakura

the thing about Dan’s “bad side” isn’t just that it isn’t bad (though it obviously isn’t). it’s just…so soft? on the side he usually shows in pictures, his jaw is a little sharper and his hair is parted there so you see more of his forehead and he has that stupid sad dimple so it’s like he’s constantly memeing us with his face. but on the other side his jaw is a little rounder and his hair hangs over his forehead which makes him look younger and he’s got that crater dimple that shows up whenever he smiles. it’s like his “good side” looks like the guy who overuses memes and talks about his kinks on twitter, and the other side is just Dan, who ends liveshows with inspirational messages and talks about embarrassing things he’s done so other people feel better about themselves and cries over sad books and helps Phil with video games even when they’re supposed to be competing against each other. i love Dan’s bad side

My lovely friend and beta, @peetabreadgirl, celebrates her birthday this month, and I have been working on something short-ish and fun to help her celebrate. So, PBJ, because you know I’m mean, here is a little teaser for you to enjoy. The first chapter should be posted early next week, just in time for Valentine’s Day. Happy Early Birthday, PBJ! I love you and your snark. Don’t know what I’d do without you. <3

Leading Suspects

When an old friend in need reaches out to Katniss, she returns to the small town she swore she’d never set foot in again. Help Madge and then leave, she decides. But a murder investigation and one sheriff with stupid blue eyes and dimples all conspire to keep her where she thought she’d never want to be.

Coming soon!

I pause behind the front door. “Who is it?”

“Sheriff’s department,” a muffled voice responds. I peek through the lace curtains covering the long windows that flank the front door and make a mental note to board these windows up later so no one can smash them to unlock the door. It’s dark out by now, but I can still make out the brown and khaki shades of a sheriff uniform and a squad car parked on the street. He’s got his back turned to me, looking down the block, probably towards the incessant barking of Mrs. Thompson’s dog. Satisfied, I unlock and open the door.

“About time you got here –YOU!” I shout when I see his face and lift the trophy up between us, pointing the tip of the arrow shaped award straight at Hot Guy Bearing Coffee’s stupid fucking muscly chest. I’m not sure how much good it will do me against him since he’s got at least a hundred pounds on me and those fucking arms of steel to contend with, and suddenly I wish I’d braved my mother’s house for one of my old bows before coming here.

“Yeah, me,” he says waving towards the weapon in my hands. “Could you put that thing down? I’m not sure if you’ve had coffee recently and I know how deadly you are with an arrow.”

Guys, imagine Wynonna and Nicole getting drunk at the station after a really long day and Waverly finding them slumped against Nicole’s desk, giggling at some stupid joke Wynonna told. Upon seeing Waverly, Nicole stands, half dancing half stumbling towards her and starts drunkenly singing the chorus of T-shirt by Thomas Rhett.

Waverly blushing a deep red because she had in fact been in Nicole’s t-shirt that morning after they had spent most of the night making love. And oblivious Wynonna just watching the two from the floor, trying to figure out why Waverly was so red.

Finding out you’re ticklish

Request anything!


“Baaabe,” you whine, tugging at his hand. “I want to get some ice-cream, get a move on!”

Ashton rolls his eyes at you before sending you an adoring grin, and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach. You only met him a few months ago but you fell for him so fast, for his stupid dimpled smile and his adorable giggle and the way he’s so passionnate about everything he does.

He finally got the guts to ask you out two weeks ago, and it’s your third date, the one where he promised you’d get to choose the place. So of course you chose to go to the fair because who doesn’t love clichés, but now Ashton’s been trying and failing to win you a teddy bear at one of the booths forever, and you’re getting a little impatient.

“You’re so stupid,” you say as you finally manage to drag him away. “Now buy me food.”

“So demanding oh my god,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, which only causes you both to laugh.

You lean your head against his shoulder as the both of you make your way towards where you can buy ice-cream, but suddenly he wraps his arm around your waist and you jump away from him with a sharp gasp.

He looks up at you in shock, his mouth falling open as worry fills his eyes.

“D-did I do something wrong? Was that too much? I’m sorry–”

You cut him off before he can ramble on, muttering a little:

“I’m just really ticklish.”

There’s a few beats of silence before he realizes what you just said and a huge smile lights up his face.

“You mean you’re so ticklish I can’t even touch your sides?”

“Yes?” You say in a little voice, peeking up at him through your lashes, a little embarrassed.

“Oh my god!” He yells in exhilaration, and before you know it he’s running towards you, making grabby hands towards your waist.

You scream, half in fright half in delight, and start sprinting away.

“Don’t you dare, Irwin,” you yell behind your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“I’m coming for you!”

And true enough he’s on you in no time, tickling your sides, which makes you scream and laugh way too loud and probably attract the attention of everyone around you, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care when he finally stops and looks at you fondly.

“I hate you,” you whisper, the smile at your lips contradicting your words.

He grins brightly and pecks your nose sweetly.

“Let’s get you your ice-cream, yeah?” He say, grabbing your hand again.


“Mike. Mikey. Michael. Clifford. Cliffy. Gordon.”

Finally he snaps and fixes you with a dirty glare, finally looking up form his phone.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Give me love!” You yell dramatically before letting yourself fall to the ground.

He barely spares you a glance, still lounging in the bed, caught up in what’s probably a really shitty videogame.

“Honestly, Michael, I come all the way to here from Australia to visit you because you said you missed hanging out with me, and then you just ignore me? Talk about a shit friend.”

“I’m not a shit friend! I’m just finishing this level of–”

By then you’ve already tuned out. You’re used to this, of course. Mike was this way before he even started the band, so it’s no real surprise to you. You’re actually secretly happy that fame didn’t change him that much.

“Whatever,” you huff. “I’m sure Luke will cuddle me or something. Maybe he missed me more.”

At this Mike whips his head towards you.

“What do you mean you’ll go cuddle Luke?”

You shrug, getting up to your feet.

“Yeah well, he’s nicer than you anyway, and yesterday he actually–”

Mike grabs your arm and makes you fall on the bed before tackling you in a huge hug, basically just lying on top of you.

“There you go now stop taking about Luke,” he huffs, and you can’t help the small smile playing at your lips.

Of course talking about his bandmates would be the way to get his attention. He’s always been a possessive guy. You hide your grin in his neck and raise your arm to play with his hair a little, soaking up his warmth and just his presence after being apart for so long. He makes a little satisfied sound and his hands go down the length of your body, probably to pull you closer but you let out a little squeak and he stops his movements.

He leans backwards a little to look at your face, a disbelieving smile slowly lighting up his face.

“No way,” he breathes. “I completely forgot how ticklish you are.”

“Pfff, I’m not ticklish anymore,” you blatantly lie.

“Right,” he smirks, and that’s all the warning you get before he literally attacks your sides, causing loud giggles to fall from your lips.

“Stop!” You yell, which only makes him laugh more and tickle you until you can’t breathe, tears falling from your eyes and hair all messed-up from shaking your head side to side in an attempt to get away.

Finally, finally, he stops, looking down at you with a smile on your face and you feel your heart squeeze a little, feelings you pushed back years ago trickling back into your heart. You swallow and fight the blush rising in your cheeks, trying not to concentrate on how green his eyes are. Just friends, you remind yourself, just friends.

But then his lips delicately brush against yours and he whispers a soft:

“I really really missed you.”


Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as you notice him sitting at the café, typing something on his phone as he waits patiently for you to show up. He looks just like he did in your numerous Skype sessions except…better somehow. More real. You hurry your steps and stop in front of the table, a small, timid smile at your lips.

“Hi Luke,” you say almost breathlessly, and he looks up to your quickly, a smile lighting up his features at the sound of your voice before he even really registers your presence.


Before you know it you’re engulfed in a huge bearhug and that’s when you know Skype really didn’t do him justice because how could you have known that he would be so broad and warm and smell so good. He squeezes you in his arms tightly beofre letting go, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“I’m so excited to finally meet you oh my god!”

And you notice how bluer his eyes are in real life, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky.

“Me too,” you grin sheepishly before you both sit down and you can’t help a snicker as you see what he ordered for himself.

“A caramel macchiatto? You really are a white girl, Luke.”

And then he pouts and it’s like all the awkwardness is gone, you’ve found your internet best friend and it’s comfortable and hilarious and even better than you could have possibly imagined. After the coffee, you take a walk in a nearby park until he suddenly collapses in the grass, grandly declaring he wants to watch the clouds.

“You’re so cheesy oh my god,” you can’t help but chuckle, but of course you plop down beside him, trying not to stare too much at the sliver of golden skin where his shirt has slightly ridden up.

“Shut up, you bully!” He exclaims and pokes you in the stomach, which immediately causes you to curl onto yourself and bark out a laugh.

His eyes widen impossibly and the blue somehow becomes even shinier as a heartmelting smile forms at his lips.

“You’re ticklish?” He asks, like nothing has ever caused him more joy in the entire world.

“Um, yes?”

“Perfect!” He exclaims and pokes your stomach again, making you choke up in laughter. “Now I have the perfect leverage over you!”

He pokes you once more, claiming it’s revenge for you mocking him, and as you stare up at his face, you can’t help but think that you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him, and you’ve never been as lucky as that day you randomly got a text from a wrong number. And unbeknownst to you, looking at your messy hair and smudged make-up and shining eyes, he’s thinking the exact same.


The room is dark and warm, and it feels like a coocoon, the perfect hide-away for your few stolen moments with Calum. The Maori boy tenderly runs his fingers through your hair, sending you a small smile that has your stomach tingle with nervousness.

Because you never thought of Calum as someone who could be tender. He was funny, arrogant, cuddly, obnoxious, flirty and confident, until you got closer to him and suddenly he was so much more. Ever since you first had your serious conversation with him a few weeks ago, souls laid bare under the starry sky as you both foudn yourselves outside on the porch after struggling to find sleep, he’s been opening to you more and more, and you’ve realized just how interesting and deep a person he is.

And now you’ve been spending the nights together, confessions about dreams and fear whispered in the dark as you find your solace in each other’s arms, just cuddling the nightly anxieties away, until he kissed you a few nights ago and sudddenly it wasn’t just platonic anymore.

But he’s leaving to LA tomorrow morning after this break and you’re going to miss him so much and you try to tell him through your kisses, loving the feel of his pouty lips against yours. He sighs against your mouth and his thumb traces your cheek.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers into the darkness, and you raise a hand to tangle your fingers around the curly, inky strands of hair, until he leans his head against your hand like a puppy in need of petting.

“I’ll miss you too,” you breathe out.

He ducks his head to place a dust of kisses on your jaw, your collarbone, your neck, and despite the soft sadness of the situation, you can’t help a small giggle as his lips traces the sensitive spot.

“What?” He asks, unable to control his smile at the beautiful sound.

“Tickles,” you grin, and he chuckles.


He kisses you in the crook of your neck a few times more, loving the breathy giggles it causes you to emit, and slowly feeling warmth filling his veins as he looks at how good you look on his pillow, in his arms.

“Come with me to LA,” he rushes out, not even thinking but knowing he needs you by his side, always.

“Yes, yes of course,” you whisper, the words falling from your lips before your brain even connects and understand the implications of what he just asked.

But then he kisses you again, softly, and you realize you don’t really care about the implications as long as you can keep him in your arms.

I know I’m the last person to preach about moving on when I could write several novels on how not to let go, but if you’ve carried the weight of a thousand “what ifs” and “whys” like I have, you know how hard it is to breathe a whole breath when there’s a “what if I did this differently” wedged into your sternum.
So I asked myself. How do you do it?
How do you move on?
How do you move on from that laugh?
That voice
Those sleepy eyes
That one dimple.
And upon listing those characteristics that give me nothing but warmth, I realised I’m keeping her alive by keeping them alight. Every time I think of that stupid fuckin dimple, I’m adding fuel to the fire when what I should remember is the constant fucking frost bite I feel in my lungs.
Easier said than done, which makes me resort to revenge. And not in the “ the best revenge is success” kind, but the “I’m going to make you as miserable as I feel” kind. I think for most of us that’s just instant reaction to pain. If someone hits you, majority of the time your reaction is to hit them back. I know that’s mine, and I know it’s juvenile but so far two wrongs have made a right for me and as you can tell, I’m too much of a brat to stray away from familiarity.
Others have stressed that the best revenge is just to move on and be happy. And my all time favourite, “the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else”. If that were true then I would’ve gotten over her 2 girls ago but here I am, thinking about what a terrible fuckin job she does at cooking an omelette. And she’s ruined so many foods for me. I hate oranges, I cannot stand Alfredo. I introduced her to ravioli and now every time I walk by it at a grocery store I glare at it as if it gives me food poisoning. It’s weird how one person can make you not like so many things. I can’t stand Justin Bieber now, Calvin Klein underwear annoys me, the theme music to Bob’s Burgers irks me and I storm out of the room whenever someone even mentions that stupid COD game. And I fuckin hate Star Wars; storm troopers are dumb.
And now I’ve just gone on a rant about shit she’s made me not like anymore when my original reason for this post was to remind not only you but myself that we shouldn’t forget how much space we have tucked away for new things; new songs, new foods, new places, new people.
We all have moments when we do nothing but romanticise the past. There’s a beauty in our nostalgia, but we tend to nurture the good and justify the bad like that time she chose someone else over you, or that fight you guys had that left bruises on your bodies for days after. I need to stop making myself believe that those moments in my life will be the best I’ll ever have. That’s how I ruin my future, and that’s how you will ruin yours.

okay but i finally watched man of steel and i actually enjoyed it a lot more than i thought i would?

i’ve heard a lot of negative stuff about it but like

clark kent

who has all of the power in the world and then some who literally just drifts around helping people until he figures out that he’s from Krypton, at which point he does the SAME THING BUT ON A UNIVERSAL SCALE