summer-must-have

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GIFSET MEME: Parallels - The Rickshank Redemption, Summer and Rick

Grandpa Rick must have some secret lab, right? With, like, laser guns and jets packs and a space tank! And we can go break him out of prison! Look at these dead flies! Maybe if we arrange them in a certain order, it plays a hologram! Or it opens a secret door!

Requested by Anonymous

Omega Morty would be a lil shit and here’s why.

In an A/B/O universe I feel Morty would totally end up being an Omega. And i can totally picture him feeling distressed and scared. After all he got bullied before but now? Well his brain is certainly imagining all the ways he’s gonna get bullied and picked on about THIS.

So after his first heat he slumps back to school he spent a week locked in a room jealously imaging how Summer and Rick must have been on a ton of adventures while his body tried to betray him in every way possible. And he knows that now his life has changed forever and that when he gets to school everyone will be able to smell the change and he’s just picturing all the cruel things his classmates will do.

But instead when he shows up at school he’s being treated nicely. Door’s are being opened for him and everyone suddenly knows his name and wants to know what they can do to help him. He’s understandably confused and it takes until lunch time when some chatty over exited Omega’s drag him to there table for him to understand. He’s an Omega now and every alpha without a mate is looking to score some points, and everyone else knows the trouble they can get into for picking on an Omega.

And at first it weird’s Morty out. He can’t go anywhere without society coddling the cute shy omega and without Alpha’s practically bending over backward to earn Morty’s favor. But after awhile, he gets use to it, maybe he even likes it. The power rush it gives him to get anything he wants with a cute look and a stutter-y comment on how he could REALLY use something to drink.

But Rick. Hate’s it. He can’t just swing by Morty’s school and take him on an adventure anymore with an army of Alpha’s getting all bent out of shape at the idea of a much older more experienced Alpha taking Morty away. And if he’s not dealing with them its a flock of worried Omega’s all asking Morty if its ok and to call them to tell them he’s fine. And Rick hates even more how its gone to Morty’s head how he’s so use to batting his eyes or making a passing comment and having everyone give him what he wants that he just won’t listen to Rick anymore.

And maybe Rick’s even a little jealous maybe it gets under his skin to smell 15 different alphas on Morty because Rick knows those little bastards are doing it on purpose and that Morty must have no idea. But Morty does know and he loves it. He loves the power and the attention and he loves how he can get under Rick’s skin and how if he comes home smelling of a particularly strong alpha how Rick’s pupils will dilate and how Rick will make some dumb passing excuse to touch Morty or at the very least get him closer. And Morty just loves soaking in his grandpas attention loves the anger and concern Rick shows as he scolds Morty for not paying enough attention and not being careful and leading potentially dangerous alphas on, but little does Rick know its too late because Morty is leading on the most dangerous alpha out there, him.

A Summer Gone is a Summer Changed

Jughead x Reader

Summary: The reader, Jellybean’s babysitter, goes off to volunteer over the summer and comes back to find the Jones’ home and family has deteriorated. 

Word Count: 3,404

Parking your car on graveled driveway of the town’s trailer park, you grabbed your bag and hopped out. You walked through the uncut grass, swatting at the mosquitoes that took a liking to your legs and arms. Finally, you reached the small porch that led to the front door of the grubby trailer you had grown much too familiar with. Without even knocking, you swung open the  broken screen door and fit your key into the door, unlocking it. Not looking at your new surroundings, you brushed the hair out of your eyes as you gently shut the door. Turning around, you were quickly caught off guard by the messiness of the house and empty beer bottles laid out across every surface.

“What the hell?” You mumbled to yourself before pulling out your phone and texting Mrs. Jones about her and Jellybean’s whereabouts.

For 2 years, you had been babysitting Jellybean. The past summer however, you had taken a break for a volunteer opportunity. As soon as you got back, Mrs. Jones asked if you could babysit Jellybean again, which of course you agreed to. The only thing she had forgotten to mention was that not only did they no longer live in the trailer, but a lot else had changed since you had been gone.

Reading Gladys’ text, you cursed to yourself for not noticing her subsequent message telling you her new location. You swiftly texted her back, volunteering to drive to the new location to babysit Jellybean, but Gladys, acknowledging that by the time you got there it would be too late, politely declined your offer.

Sighing, you stuffed your phone into your back pocket and looked at the new state of the trailer. To begin, the trailer reeked of alcohol. You held your breath, as your eyes scanned the living room. Dirty laundry, pipes, and dishes were scattered everywhere. Deciding not to waste the trip over to the trailer, you began to pick up the beer cans, dirty bowls, and glasses. Carrying the handful into the kitchen, you felt a can slip out of your grasp, falling onto the floor and spilling out week old beer.

“Shit!” You said to yourself, setting down what was left in your arms, and grabbing a paper towel to clean up the mess you had made.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” A familiar voice asked from behind you. Thinking you were alone in the trailer, the words made you jump, falling into the puddle of beer.

“For fuck’s sake.” You said, throwing your hands in the air and pulling yourself up before turning to see a disheveled Jughead Jones standing in front of you. Eyeing his body, you realized that he was in his pajamas, and that your racket had likely woke him up.

“Jughead, I can explain. I was supposed to babysit Jellybean and I’ve been gone for a really long time and I didn’t realize you had moved or that they had moved to be exact and so I got here to babysit her and it turned out that your mom had texted me the other address and I didn’t see it and so I-” Waving his hand at you he groaned. “Stop, it’s fine. Look you don’t have to clean anything up. I clean up about once a week. Anything more than that is useless. The mess piles up within hours, so it’s easier to clean it all in one go.” He explained, as if he had a process for dealing with the squalor.

Stepping towards him you frowned. You had known Jughead for years, since childhood. Your mother and his had been friends since you were children, so when you became old enough, you were his mother’s first choice as a babysitter for Jellybean. You knew that Jughead could have easily looked after her, but you adored Jellybean, and begged to be her babysitter from when you were just a child yourself. You knew Jughead better than anyone else. While you didn’t hang out a lot in daily life, he had been a constant presence in your life since you were about five. Every time you came to babysit Jellybean, Jughead would help you prepare her meals. When you would put on a movie for her, Jughead would make popcorn for the both of you and sit beside you quietly as you watched the film. When Jellybean would go to bed, you and Jughead would recommend books for the other to read and catch up on what was happening in the each other’s lives. “What happened. If they moved, why are you still here. What happened to your dad?”

Shaking his head, he hopped onto the counter and reached for the open bag of chips on the counter. “Dad, he kind of…fell off the wagon. Archie’s dad fired him. But I couldn’t just leave him. If we all left, how would he ever get back on track. “

You looked at the mess once more, and then looked back at Jughead. “But you don’t deserve this, Juggie.” You said, your heart breaking by the moment. “Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come home earlier. I could’ve helped.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t call you. Y/N you’ve talked about going off to volunteer, going to help others, for as long as I’ve known you. I wasn’t going to ruin that experience for you.” Jughead said between bites. Dropping another chip in his mouth, you crossed your arms.

“Yeah, I have talked about wanting to volunteer and help others, but not if the people closest to me need help. I mean, how is Jellybean? How are you?” You asked, distressed by the whole situation.

“She’s alright. She’s doing well in school, but she misses you. I miss you.” Jughead said, his voice trailing off at the last bit.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed at his chest. “Jughead stop.”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t have anyone to talk to about books and movies. Nobody really cares except for you. And everything has just been such a mess and you’re really the only person I can talk to about it. You’re the only person I can talk to about anything, the only person I want to talk to about anything.” He told you, looking at you shyly. This was the first time you had seen Jughead nervous or uncomfortable around you.

Placing your hand on his leg to comfort, you gave him a small smile. “Jug, you know I’m always here for you. I wish I had been there for you over the summer. That must have been so hard for you.”

Jughead nodded at you. “I remember the last night Jellybean was here. She came to my room and climbed onto my bed. Her eyes were puffy and she just looked at me and asked why she couldn’t just live with you and me all of the time. At that point, my mom and dad were fighting pretty heavily. But to see her, the strongest 10 year old I know, start bawling her eyes out because she would rather live with her babysitter and her brother than her own parents, my heart just broke.”

A tear ran down your cheek and you took his hand in yours. “She asked me if she could call you every night, Y/N. I told her that you couldn’t receive calls from where you were from. It was so selfish of me to lie to her, but I knew that if I talked to you, if I heard your voice, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from asking you to come home.”

You just looked at him with shock and confusion. “What about Archie? What about Betty? They’re your best friends. Why didn’t you talk to them? You know they would’ve helped.”

“You don’t get it, Y/N. They aren’t you. They don’t know that my dad is a Serpent, or that him and my mother fight all of the time. I don’t talk about myself to them. I avoid it as much as possible, actually.” Jughead shrugged, taking his hand away from yours.

“Jughead. You’ve got to trust people. Not everyone is your parents. And think about it, you would rather tell your little sister’s babysitter about your life than your best friends. It just doesn’t make sense.” You said, exasperated.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you know that you mean more to me than just Jellybean’s babysitter. You know how I feel about you.” He told you firmly, referencing a night from the previous year.

One Year Before:

“Jughead, I am telling you, Ex Machina is a good movie.” You tried to reason, but his position on the subject remained the same. Jellybean had been in bed for about an hour, and yet Jughead’s parents had yet to come home. For the past 45 minutes, you had been sitting on the living room couch, arguing with Jughead about movies.

“Y/N, we’ve been over this. It’s overdone. It’s like a Syfy movie that managed to make it to the big screen.” Jughead’s analogy made you roll your eyes.

“Coming from the guy who loves E.T. I mean is that not the same thing.” You asked, genuinely miffed.

“God no. E.T. is a classic. E.T. paved the road for the science fiction genre. It’s a cinematic experience.” He told you, as if it was obvious.

His serious expression made you giggle. “You’re impossible, Jughead.”

Your laugh made him crack a smile, and for a moment, you both just sat there, not saying a word.

Breaking the silence, Jughead slowly brought his hand over, and laid it gently on top of yours. “You are the only person I can talk to about this kind of stuff. You’re the only person who gets it.”

Smiling you shook your head. “Jughead we don’t agree half of the time.”

“At first. But then I usually cave or you cave. Either way you are the only one that even cares about the things I care about.” Jughead’s voice had gone down to a whisper, and you noticed that he wasn’t looking at you anymore. His eyes focused on your lips, as if he was waiting, waiting for you to say something that would make it okay for him to do what he had wanted to do for years.

“I feel the same way.” You told him quietly. You both knew that you weren’t just talking about interests anymore. So Jughead took that as his cue. His hands cupped your face as his lips met yours. You were shocked at first, but slowly melted into him, relaxing into the warmth of his body and how soft his lips were. Just as you began to kiss him back, you heard the creak of the screen door opening, to which you and Jughead broke apart, practically flying onto opposite sides of the couch. You looked at him, watching his chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. Meeting his eyes for a second, you quickly looked away, before turning back to observe the pinkness of his lips and cheeks.

The front door opened, and you hopped up, grabbing your bag. Mrs. Jones thanked you profusely for watching Jellybean, and soon after you were scurrying out the door. As you closed the door, your eyes caught Jughead’s for a fleeting moment. With that, you shut the door, and you never spoke of the kiss again.

Images of the night played in your head as if they had happened within the past few days, but your mind questioned whether Jughead was actually referring to a moment that had happened so long ago. You wondered why he hadn’t brought it up before.

“Jughead I- we aren’t even friends. I don’t know how you feel about me at all, actually. We don’t talk at school. We’ve never hung out outside of this house. I don’t know what our relationship even is.” You said, utterly confused.

“So then you’re telling me that you haven’t thought about that kiss at all? Or that you hadn’t ever thought about it before then?” Jughead questioned you.

You tried to speak but all that managed to happen was you opening and then closing your mouth. You couldn’t process the fact that he was finally bringing up the kiss while simultaneously admitting that he had thought about it long before when it happened.

“Right, okay. My bad then. I guess you’re right, we aren’t even friends. And since that’s the case, I think you should go. You’re just Jellybean’s babysitter after all and she isn’t here.” He said, sardonically. Sliding off the counter, he reached down and picked up the now empty beer can, tossing it in the trash. As he stood back up, he gave you one last look and shook his head, before turning on his heel and heading to his bedroom.

As you heard the bedroom door shut, you counted, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Grabbing a kitchen towel from the cupboard below the sink, you tried to dry your beer soaked clothes. You held your head in your hands, conflicted on what to do. Slowly, you worked up the courage to walk down the cramped hallway of the trailer, to Jughead’s room. His door was shut, and you analyzed the door, fit with the usual teen ‘keep out’ sticker.

“Jughead, open the door.” You called, and were answered with the sound of music being turned on.

“Jughead, please. Please, I’m sorry. I’m not just Jellybean’s babysitter. I know that. So can you please just open the do-” As you went to finish the sentence, the door swung open, and you saw Jughead, looking at you with a blank expression on his face. After opening the door, he turned around and plopped onto his bed, pulling his laptop into his lap.

You sat on the bed beside him, unsure of what to say. Jughead sensed this, and rolled his eyes, turning his head to look at you. “Are you just going to sit there or do you actually have something to say?”

Not being able to find words, you leaned forward and kissed him, holding his face gently in your hands. Quickly you pulled away, and waited for his reaction. Instead of saying anything, he smirked.

“Seriously?” You asked him, before lightly shutting his laptop and pulling him in to kiss you again. At first, he didn’t kiss back, but when you went to pull away once more, you were stopped by Jughead’s hands reaching up and tangling themselves in your hair as he cupped your cheeks to pull you closer. As you deepened the kiss, Jughead’s hands separated from you for a moment to push his laptop aside. This time, his hands went to your waist, as he moved you onto his lap. Within seconds, you were laying on top of him, his hands in your hair and yours on his chest as your light kiss had turned into a full on makeout session. You hadn’t expected this to happen, but you weren’t surprised when it did.

“Jughead!” You heard a raspy voice call from the other room, just before the sound of the door slamming shut.

You and Jughead both froze. As fast as possible, you jumped off of him, while he sat up and fixed his beanie and wrinkled shirt. Watching Jughead’s startled expression, your hands went to your hair, neatly trying to comb it out. The event felt eerily similar to the one a year prior.

“Coming dad!” Jughead yelled from beside you. He stood up, before turning to you and motioning for you to follow.

You approached the living room with caution, scared of what you might find. Soon enough, your eyes met the bloodshot ones of Jughead’s father. He looked rough, to say the least. Throughout the years, he hadn’t been around as much as the others, so your relationship with him still felt uncomfortable and unnerving.

To your shock and Jughead’s horror, he smiled when he saw you, before looking at Jughead. “You finally fucked her?” He asked, nodding towards me. Jughead started to shake his head but his dad continued. “Bout’ damn time. After all of the years of being a little pussy.”

You watched Jughead’s face contort into complete anguish, but before you could say anything, Jughead’s dad began talking to you. “He tell you all the times he would ask us to leave the house just so you would have to babysit? I told him just to fuck you already but he would just go on about having ‘feelings’ like a fucking girl.”

By now you had realized that his dad was beyond shitfaced, but you sensed there was some truth in his words.

Looking at his dad and then back at Jughead, you panicked. “I have to go.” You muttered before running past his dad and out the door. You ran down the steps of the porch, and were just about to reach your car when you heard the front door shut behind you.

“Y/N don’t do this. Not again. I’m sorry about my dad. He gets drunk in the afternoons now and I know it’s bad.” Jughead panted as he caught up to you.

“I don’t care about your dad. I care about you. Was he telling the truth?” You asked, visibly distraught.

“I-I-yes.” Jughead answered, breaking eye contact, and focusing on the rocks below him.

“How long?” You probed, hoping he would tell the truth.

“I mean…I have-I’ve liked you for about four years, but after you started babysitting Jellybean, I think I- I fell in love with you.” Jughead still refused to look up at you, and his words shocked you to no extent.

Shaking your head, you failed to understand how you had missed this. “What about the babysitting thing? What did he mean when he said that you made them leave the house?”

Squinting his eyes closed as though he was afraid to look at you when he said the words, he responded. “About eighty percent of the time that you babysat Jellybean, I asked my parents to go out so that I could spend more time with you.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly. “Why didn’t you just ask me to hang out? I’ve known you since we were five.”

“You’re so confident. I figured that if you had wanted to hang out with me in the real world, you would have just asked.” Jughead explained, clearly embarrassed.

“Oh Juggie. I just never thought about it. I kind of liked our little world. Talking to you feels like I get to escape reality for awhile and I didn’t want that to change.” Every word you spoke, and every memory with Jughead that resurfaced in your mind bubbled up into the realization of just how much you cared for this boy.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

You frowned and lifted his chin up so that he had to look at you. “You know I would’ve kissed you back a year ago if your parents hadn’t walked in? You should’ve told them to leave the house a little longer.”

Your words were a huge relief for him, as he realized that you didn’t think he was crazy for his methods in trying to spend time with you. His smile made you smile, and suddenly, you were blushing.

“You really love me Jones?” You questioned, holding his hand in yours and raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, hesitant as to what your reaction would be.

“Then how about we go on a real date, outside of your house? You can tell me all about this summer and I’ll help you devise a plan to get everything back to normal. In between a massive plate of fries and kisses, of course ” As you finished speaking, Jughead’s eyes lit up, a smile forming on his face, so wide that you didn’t think anything could break it.

“As long as you agree that Ex Machina is a horrible film.” He responded, opening the passenger seat of your car.

“Fine, but only because I love you too.” You said, placing a light kiss on his lips, and climbing into the driver’s seat of your car.

Never had you seen Jughead so happy, and as your hands intertwined with his, you knew that you would do anything to make sure that he, and Jellybean, were okay.

anonymous asked:

Spring summer must haves for: fashion, literature, anything else in general?

Spring: fresh peonies, ballet flats, Claude Debussy, Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, ankle-cropped black trousers, Françoise Hardy, Charles Baudelaire’s La Spleen de Paris, walks to the lake shore to admire the swans and blossoming trees, Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulin (2001), Fresh’s rose face mask, meeting with friend’s in coffee shops, Nicole Krauss’ The History of Love, Charlotte Gainsbourg, John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, silk blouses worn with delicate lace underwear (with no underwire), Feist, Patti Smith’s Just Kids

Summer: silk and linen, Bonjour Tristesse (1958), Hindi Zahra, small gold hoop earrings, figs picked from my grandfather’s tree, a closet of white and off-white, Lancôm’s lightest sunscreen, Fernando Pessoa’s The Book of Disquiet, balconies with a view of the sea, Bossa nova, espadrilles with ribbon, seafood risotto (mussels, squid…), handwritten letters, turkish coffee, barefoot dancing, Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, eating every meal outside on the terrace, straw bag, Federico Garcia Lorca’s Gypsy Ballads, Erik Satie with a view of the stars, a simple black bathing suit…

Wildflower // Chapter One

Author’s Note: So, this is going to be a Jughead/OC story. I’ve ALWAYS loved Betty/Jughead from the time I was a kid when I read the comics but I couldn’t help but create an OC after watching Riverdae SOLELY for my own entertainment. Hope you guys like it!

Enjoy!


A warm breeze blew through Marley Morrison’s long, blonde hair as she made her way down Heath Street towards Betty Cooper’s house. It was early, too early if she was honest but it was the first day of school – the official end of summer vacation – and though that thought was enough to make her cry, the thought of seeing Betty and the rest of the gang put an extra little pep in her step.

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You have a decision to make.

Pairing : Dean x Plussize!Reader, Soulless!Sam
Word count : 2,411
Author : Mel
Warnings : Angst?, Sam is a dick.



Opening the front door to the modest two floor home, Dean moved as silently as possible. He applied every bit of stealth he had ever learned as a hunter into getting himself up the stairs to the second floor without being detected. If he was caught, this was all over. The shittiest day of his life would get so much worse. What he did now, was harder than any job, any case, hell, anything he had ever done before and it was killing him.

He hit the second floor landing and looked up the hall. He could hear her. She was singing. He closed his eyes and silently made his way towards her. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his brothers voice rang out in his head. “You have a decision to make Dean. Make it fast before I make it for you.”

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RWBY Things I Think About

-The fact that for most of Season 4, pre-arm, Yang’s hair is in a perfect ponytail which is impossible to do with one hand, so Tai is pretty much the only person who could have done it.

-How does Ironwood know that it’s not uncommon for the last thoughts of the slain to be with their attacker? How would anyone know that? We know he’s kind of a cyborg; did he technically die, and the just brought him back?

-Teeny tiny Ruby. Teeny tiny Yang. Teeny tiny Weiss. Teeny tiny Blake. That is all.

-Are Jaune’s sisters younger or older than him? Does he have tiny sisters at home waiting for their hero big brother to come back? How did his parents react to him faking is way into Beacon? They had to have known; if he’s never gone to combat school, why would they think Beacon would just allow him in? Where do they think he is right now?

-Did Pyrrha have siblings?

-STRQ in the school days.

-What is Tai’s weapon? What was Summer’s?

-Beowolf puppies.

-The heck must it have been like in Qrow and Raven’s childhood that Qrow didn’t know anything about how uniforms are supposed to work? Also, why didn’t he question that Tai wasn’t wearing a skirt and the girls were? Why did Summer let Tai get away with that? Was she as much of a prankster as he was? Did Raven know? What did they tell Raven?

-If Qrow’s so cool, why hasn’t he changed clothes in 20 years? Also, why Tai roll his pants legs? You are a teacher now, man, do you WANT those kids to make fun of you?

-Zwei is a therapy dog.

-How baby-faced Tai was in that old picture.

-Where does Qrow keep all his stuff when he’s a bird? Or a person for that matter. He just materializes the picture out of nowhere. And where was he hiding Oz’s cane that whole time? He has Infinity Pocket.

-The fact that Qrow carries his team’s old picture with him everywhere.

-That Tai keeps his daughters’ team picture next to his team picture.

-”The Branwen twins were always…. interesting to say the least.” “That didn’t seem to stop young Tai…” Implying he courted both twins, or at least fooled around with both.

-Professor Port and Professor Oobleck. (rare ship)

-Ruby’s voice. (IT’S JUST SO DANG CUTE)

-Yang’s toddler tantrums. Why is their house made of wood?

-Also how dang pretty the Xiao Long house is. Like, sign me up, I wanna live there, do you SEE how big that kitchen is?

-Did Tai always want to be a teacher? What made him and Summer decide that he’d be the one staying home with the kids? (I mean, I’m all for it, but was he a teacher before Raven left?)

-The size difference between Kali and Ghira. so smol, so tol

-Oscar.

-Noodle-arms McGee

-How does anyone’s skirt stay down when fighting? I can’t even keep a knee-length skirt from riding up while walking. They’re doing flips and that thing just defies gravity and physics and covers everything perfectly. What is this technology and where do I get it?

-Did I mention team STRQ? I just want more on these children. If we get nothing else in Vol 5, I want flash back episodes. I know it’ll hurt, and I’ll regret it when I’m sobbing on the floor, but I want to see them back in the day. I want to know.

-Pregnant Summer. What must that even have been like? She was so small.

-Nora had a shirt made that says Boop and has her emblem on it.

-The fact that we’re probably going to get Oscar, Qrow, Tyrian, and Salem as chibis.

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 - Day Seven

A/N:  I was stuck for an idea for today’s fic, so @lilsherlockian1975 very kindly gave me one.  “Molly and Sherlock running into Wiggins - he’s all smug because ‘he knew it!’ (maybe because an all drugged up Sherlock spoke very highly of his pathologist and her perky little t*ts”.  I modified the prompt a tiny bit.  In case you haven’t figured it out yet, there is a tiny bit of naughty language in this one.  Unbeta’d.

It’s not my best work, but I only had three hours to knock it out if I wanted to get it done today so …

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 – Day Seven (Non-Canon – Free Choice)

Shezza’s Missus

“Sherlock?  I know I’m early, but you said it was important that I come over after my shift and Doctor Rich-“  Molly came to a dead stand still in the doorway to Sherlock’s kitchen.  She took in the strange man standing in front of the hob stirring something in a pan with a wooden spoon.  Whatever was in the pan smelled absolutely lovely, some kind of mouth-watering curry.  But still …  “You’re not Sherlock.”

“Hullo, Missus.  Home early?” He brought the spoon up to his mouth, tasted the sauce, and grimaced.  His hand hovered over a row of spice jars before snatching one up and shaking a sprinkle of seasoning into the pan; then he shrugged and shook the jar twice more. “Curry powder.  I told him the sauce was too bland the way he’d done it, but Shezza insisted on following the recipe to the letter.”  The man winked at her over his shoulder.  “I won’t tell him we gave it a bit of a tweak if you don’t.”

“I … What?”  Molly had no idea what was going on.  She didn’t think she’d ever even seen Sherlock’s kitchen used to prepare food before.  Add to that oddity, the lanky man who seemed to have made himself at home and who appeared to be wearing a frilly pink pinny over his jeans and thread-bare jumper. 

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Otabek and Yurio

I want to think about Yurio and Otabek as a couple. Canonical, they met before during Yakov’s summer program. Otabek must not have made a huge impression cause Yurio hardly remembers him.

Flash forward to five years later. I’m assuming that Otabek has been watching Yurio from afar, waiting for him to move up to the senior division. That would make sense since Otabek gives Yurio that very searching look at the hotel in Barcelona, then shows up to rescue Yurio from his Angels.

Honestly, it looks like Otabek has it BAD. He pounced so fast! (Which is so delightfully cute to me.)

However, look at it from Yurio’s POV. Yes, he slightly remembers Otabek, and they obviously hit it off very, very well (see scene when they’re having tea and Mari-neechan dies a little).

But they’ve only been taking for three days!

They have that one day where Otabek rescues him.

The next day is the short program (“davai” from Yurio and thumbs up from Otabek).

And the next day is the free program (“davai” from Otabek and thumbs up from Yurio).

Then the next day, Otabek is (according to hints of Yurio’s Gala performance) assisting Yurio on the ice? When did they have time to practice? Why would Yurio ask Otabek and not Yuri or Victor for help?

I think this shows just how quickly their feelings solidified. (I’m thinking love at first sight, for Otabek at least.) I also think that Otabek would do anything Yurio asked of him.

anonymous asked:

since you know a lot about this, you see the writters strike thing? i'm so worried for my tv shows, they can cancell shows already been renew? i'm so worried

Well the good news is it might not happen. The bad news is it might and if it does, it will all go into effect on May 1st. And I’ll give you a wild guess whose fault it would be if it happens:

Disney. Shocked, y'all.

The basis of this strike is 2 fold: The writers want better health care and they want better pay. There is a long history of networks neglecting their writing staffs, and that’s why there have been so many strikes over the years. As a writer, I completely support this, especially for TV writers who work consistently over full time jobs and barely have a health care plan that covers even their most basic of needs and are still struggling financially, even with being a major contributor to even some of TVs most popular programming.

On top of that, I don’t know if you have noticed but there has been a decline in episodes per season on MANY of today’s major shows (besides reality TV because those don’t require writers). Since writers get paid per episode, their drop in wage has been significant. We used to have 22-30 episodes per season and now sometimes we are seeing as little as 10-14. That’s a HUGE cut for a writer, trust me.

It’s very likely that streaming systems like Netflix, Amazon and Hulu would be quick to work out new contracts for writers, but Disney, with its major gravitas in both the film and TV world (Not just Disney Channel but ABC, Marvel, etc are all things they own) could showboat and refuse to budge on terms. Surprise, surprise.

We will see what moves are made. Films will probably not see any sort of damage until like the summer of 2018 since most movies coming out this summer/fall are already in post productions, and any shows this summer have pretty must completely finished production so those will go as scheduled. That’s the good news. Bad news is late night TV will shut down almost immediately and Fall programming would probably take a huge hit.

It’s not that networks could not find people to write if they needed someone to write. But almost always, those replacements produce extremely low quality work that doesn’t ebb and flow with the nature of normal programming (think what happened to Gilmore Girls S7) and because of that, successful shows can easily be swiped or cancelled.

Still, I’m iffy if this will actually happen. Last time it did, networks were buying tons of new reality TV programs and picking up pilot scripts left and right and they just aren’t this time. So let’s just keep our fingers crossed.

A letter not for reading

Simon

Baz was looking intently at a paper. He hadn’t moved for a solid fifteen minutes. I am pretty sure that he didn’t notice that I came. I lean against the bedframe and look at him. I was trying to see if he was really frozen. He wasn’t. The paper has nothing but scratch outs. I take a step forward, causing the wood to creek. He suddenly spins around and gasp loudly. “You freak, why can’t you be this quiet in the morning?!” He yells at me angrily. “I was just thought you were possessed.” It came out as nervous. He freaked me out when he spun around so fast. “No such luck.” I added before taking the books from my bag. Penny scolded me earlier this morning, my grades have not been looking their best and Penny say it is because I am ‘obsessed with Baz’. I am not obsessed with Baz; he is just a dangerous vampire who I am forced to share a room with. Penny insists that it far worse to fail during the fifth year. How in the world am I supposed to focus on studying when Baz does things like this? He was plotting against me right there. He likes to write out his thoughts when he’s trying to do something big. During our first exams of the year, I found 3 planning lists. He crammed his schedule to the brim with things to do. He is inhuman and I am certain that he is plotting to kill me.

Baz

What in the world was I thinking? Why did I decide to write a love letter for Simon in our room? I am losing it. The fact that I am experimenting with methods to fall out of love is already ridiculous. I was trying to write a letter technically aimed at Simon. I did not ever intend to have him read it. I have not reached the level where reasoning is completely worthless to emotion. At least I haven’t yet. I cannot even write a simple letter, there is a chance that I am completely hopeless. Getting your feelings out on paper usually helps you understand them to get rid of them. I could not even do that. I feel so much. My feelings are complicated and there is so much I want to tell him. There is nothing that he needs to hear. I go into the woods because I needed to get away from the school. Every fucking corner is able to force me to think about Simon. I tracked down a wolf and spelled it frozen. I drained it dry and left it somewhere only other animals, who would eat it, could find it. I sat down on a large rock and pulled out the first draft of the letter and a pen. The first draft consisted of four crossed out sentences and frustration. There was a small pencil in pocket. It was too short to hold properly but throwing away a pencil feels ridiculous. I ditched the letter format and start writing out sentences. They grew and more coherent. Loose sentences became linked paragraphs. I grew tired and rolled the paper into a ball and put it in my pocket before heading back. I felt lighter. It eased the tightness in my chest but I discovered something I knew already. I am beyond any help.

Simon

Baz returned very late. I was considering leaving bed and go searching for him. I pretended to be asleep. I practiced it before. If Baz is a vampire, he must have good hearing. When he is asleep, I’d practice breathing at the same pace as him as he sleeps. I watch him when I am sure that he is not looking. I watch him strip. Pulling off his trousers, unbuttoning his shirt, hanging his tie. I was thinking that it was it, but I was wrong. He strips off his under shirt then pulls off his briefs. I cannot stop watching. He pulls on his pajamas over his nude body. I felt myself blushing. I really wanted to look away but it would give away that I’m not asleep. He soon gets into bed and looks at the ceiling. I find myself relaxing enough to fall asleep.

My dreams turned very bitter that night. I wish I could say I dreamt of fighting something or the Humdrum. Yet no. It was summer. It must have been after the first year because I felt small, helpless, and alone. I was in an orphanage. Everyone was glued to one window and I stood a few steps behind them. They were watching a small toddler who was holding the hands of his new parents. They were all sad but I was hollow. If a couple ever came up and decided to adopt me, the Mage would interfere and I would be taken to a different home. I saw them feeling hopeless. I had nothing to hope for. I’d remain unloved. Parents seem to have this unconditional and unfading love for love for their children. They hold them so tightly and tell them that they love them. It is also so much more than that. Kids love their parents doing their chores, feeding them, tucking them into sleep. Their love is shown more in those acts more than hugs and words. I envy them so much. They don’t appreciate it. I wish to be loved like them so much I was stuck in that moment. Watching that lucky child leave over and over again. I was miserable.

“SNOW WAKE UP! SIMON! Wake up!” Baz shook me. I gasped, waking up. I realized I was dripping in cold sweat. “What happened?” I fell back on the pillow. I felt more tired when I did when I went to bed. “You were trembling and mumbling something incoherent. I would have left you but you were to loud. Go back to sleep. If you wake me up again, I am kicking you out to the stairs.” He gets into bed and rolls away from me. I relax into my pillow but I feel bitterness in my mouth, wanting to cry.

Baz

Please don’t cry, Simon. I won’t be able to stop myself. After a while, he falls asleep again and doesn’t really heave nightmares again. I watch him sleep. I know it is not good for anything but I just want to protect his dreams.

I wake up, turned to him. I must have fallen asleep watching him. I’m exhausted. Fuck this. I roll in bed, tired. It is Saturday and he is making so much noise. I flinch when he spits in the sink, twice. I needed to sleep some more but when he finally left, I couldn’t sleep. I added a few lines of text to the rough and messy paper but then I wanted to make a proper one. I took one of my nicer papers. It was silky to the touch. I get a heavier black pen to write. I never use them anyway; I just hope it burns well. I look over what I wrote and started writing.

My Dearest Simon,

The world is full of hate. Anger. Resentment. We both get to encounter each every day. I know very well that I am a great source of such emotions for you. You, on the other hand, is one of the few things keeping me from getting consumed by such emotions. You are stupidly kind, brave, and loyal. Watching you every single day is excruciating pain because I want nothing more than protect you from what the world holds. I promise that in the end, no matter happens, I will protect you from myself. I will never truly harm you. If I managed to outsmart you or act quicker, I would regret it forever.

I am in love with you, Simon. When you are away, I think about when I will see you again. I hate when the Mage forces you to go and fight for him. I want you to be with me, safe and away from it all. I want to see you asleep and not always question if you are having nightmares. I want to see you eat after you always return so thin at the end of every summer. I watch to heal each wound. I want to kiss you when you are hurt. I want to sleep with you when you have nightmares. I want to tell you it is alright and that we will be alright. I want to talk you down when you get worried.

I love you, Simon. I want everything to be alright.

Basilton.

I sealed it and put it away to carry it to the fire place.

I did not notice how it fell out of my pocket and floated to Simon’s bed.

Simon

I get back late to our room. The Mage was chewing my brains out for hours. I wanted to talk about my dream but he did not really have the time or care. He said dreams are dreams and don’t mean anything. I spot something on the floor by bed. It could only be Baz’s. It was open. I got very curious. What if I get a clue to what Baz was plotting? I know I shouldn’t but I wanted to know. I felt like I had to.

I sat at the foot of my bed and started to read.