the yellow tape

anonymous asked:

A guy once lost an arm at my school. He was doing maintenance to the elevators and didn't properly turn off the electricity, so when he was shoulder-deep in the elevator's mechanism, someone called the thing from one of the lower floors and his arm got crushed. The two uppermost floors (computer and science labs) were off-limits to everyone except for the police for at least 6 months afterwards, yellow tape and all. (Please excuse my bad english)

February 22 2017 - Local Black Lives Matter organizer Muhiyidin d’Baha leaps across the yellow police tape to snatch the Confederate flag from the hands of a lonely Secessionist demonstrator in Charleston, outside of a lecture being given by Bree Newsome, queen of the Confederate flag snatchers. [video]

devil’s sonata {pt.3} | M

⇢  PROLOGUE // PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 //

Contains: horror, angst {serial killers!au}

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence and death, gore

Words: 6,800

Summary: Taehyung was willing to go beyond the limits of ethics to spread his own, twisted point of view about the beauty of mankind. However, his brief reign came to an end when another artist starts to take inspiration from his work, beating him at his own game and making him learn in the worst possible way that life does imitates art.

Originally posted by taexsmiles

A/N: it’s been 84 years but the update is finally here!! I’ll try to keep the parts a little bit shorter so they can come out more frequently. Sorry for the wait!!

The sky was absolutely melancholic that day. Clouds enveloped the horizon in a monotone waltz of strong winds and heavy rains, dancing on top of tall buildings and oblivious citizens; morphing into a powerful storm as the hours moved along. Icy water poured down on the grey cityscape, ever so faintly attempting to wash away all the putrid sins that whispered amidst the crowded streets; but was not able to cleanse the repugnant grace that decorated the rooftop of a special, secluded building.

Many meters below the overcast skyline, Jung Hoseok pushed his way through the frenzy of stupefied bodies, holding his badge out to any of the spectators that dared to complain about his carelessness. Camera flashes and incomprehensible inquiries echoed all around him, exploding inside his head in the form of the most annoying symphony he had ever experienced; morphing into a headache he knew would not leave him alone so soon.

“Does the police have any clues?” a female voice overlapped the effervescent noise as the agent finally reached the yellow tape, a color that seemed to be mocking him lately. He raised it, and passed below the plastic line. “Your incompetence is allowing for more people to be killed!”

Hoseok clenched his jaw, physically stopping himself from answering something he would regret later. Instead, his steps grew faster as he reached the glass doors of the construction, drops of water running down his face as he mentally cursed every aspect of his current situation. For a miserable second, he was able to see the phantasmagorical reflection of his exhausted face on the translucent surface, turning him into merely another ghost among the city lines, an opaque being with no definite destination ― perhaps, that was what he truly was.

He passed by the empty wooden tables, disregarding the hysteria of soaked, blurry papers scattered around the floor; caused by the window that was left open for the entire night. ‘No signs of breaking in’ still resonated inside his turbulent thoughts, bringing along all the horrible questions he was far too confused to answer. Instead, the man found his way to the cement steps of the building, quickly moving up to the last floor of the static place.

The frigid wind thundered around him as he opened the heavy door to the rooftop, his figure being embraced once again by the monochromatic sky. A mixture of fury and disbelief bloomed inside his gaze as he moved towards the present silhouettes, all of them with their eyes locked on yet another one of the anonymous killer’s expositions.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok called, moving next to the young chief. Jeon glanced at him in pure emptiness, far too flabbergasted to even acknowledge his harsh tone. “What the fuck happened in your damn station?”

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Character Design Challenge!

Want an exercise to create character designs? We’ve decided to make a challenge just for that! Each day will include a color, an object or animal, and a genre. Use just one of these each day to inspire a character (or more than one!), or try combining all of them! You can even make an ask meme out of this. The point of this challenge is to have fun and push your creative limit! Feel free to tag us #fightartblock so other people can see what you’ve made!

1: Red/Clock/Science Fiction

2: Blue/Sword/Fantasy

3: Aqua/Spider/Fantasy

4: Orange/Headphones/Steampunk

5: Green/Pencil/Tragedy

6: Purple/Light Bulb/Horror

7: Yellow/Duct Tape/Realistic Fiction

8: Lavender/Computer/Mystery

9: Grey/Backpack/Romance

10: Pink/Headstone/Fantasy

11: Green/Egret/Science Fiction

12: White/Rat/Cyberpunk

13: Black/Trumpet/Mystery

14: Cerulean/Ball Gown/Fantasy

15: Yellow/Baseball Cap/Horror

16: Brown/Glove/Tragedy

17: Black/Friendship Bracelet/Historical Fiction

18: Indigo/Sandals/Mystery

19: Red/Bear/Science Fiction

20: Coral/Lava Lamp/Cyberpunk

21: Lime/Goldfish/Fantasy

22: Peach/Lion/Steampunk

23: Brown/Bow/Science Fiction

24: Grey/Goat/Horror

25: Black/Car/Cyberpunk

26: Gold/Owl/Fantasy

27: Fuchsia/Pomeranian/Cyberpunk

28: Silver/Puppet/Realistic Fiction

29: Jade/Ballet Shoes/Mystery

30: Magenta/Canary/Horror

31: Midnight Blue/Cat/Romance

32: Mustard/Paintbrush/Fantasy

33: Plum/Badger/Historical Fiction

34: Maroon/Screwdriver/Realistic Fiction

35: Ruby/Shark/Steampunk

3

Masterlist

Gifs not mine.

secretlyshycomputer said: Can we have more sassy reader fics I adored the Sherlock one!

A/N: thank you! I love writing these. I decided to do another Sherlock one. This hints a slight Sherlock x reader romance but it depends on how you interpret it. Otherwise, romance is not intended.

Warnings: swearing.


“Hello, my people!” You called from downstairs. You dragged your suitcase through the door. You had decided to take a holiday and now you had returned to your lodgings at 221B.

“Huzzah,” Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes. “Y/N is back.”

John chuckled. “You love her really.”

“I don’t love, John.”

“Whatever.”

“What did I miss?” You asked as you entered the flat, your luggage trailing behind you.

“Nothing much,” John said smiling. He stood up and hugged you.

“Well it’s good to be back.”

“Yes, for some people,” Sherlock muttered.

“What’s that, Sherlock?” You replied and put your hand behind your ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you as I was too busy looking for the fucks I give.” John chuckled. A grin formed on your face. “I’m kidding. I’ve missed you.”

“I suppose I’ve missed you,” Sherlock sighed.

“Awe! Bring it in, Sherly!” You walked over to him and hugged him tightly. This received another eye roll from him.

“Y/N, I don’t think physical contact is necessary.”

“Yes it is!” You hugged him tighter which made him very uncomfortable.

“Yes… Well then…” His phone buzzed. He whipped his head around to the direction of his phone, which was laying on the table, however he couldn’t see the screen from where he was. "John! We have a case!“

"Yep!” You said after you let go of him and phone. “Lestrade just sent you a text. Oh! How fun! I’m coming too!”

“You’ve just got home!” John pointed out.

“But I’ve missed this!” You spun around. “Come on, let’s go!”

 

 

The detective, the doctor, and their fabulous friend (this was you of course) arrived at the crime scene like the three musketeers. Sherlock lifted up the yellow tape for John and yourself to go under.

“Morning, you lot,” Lestrade said. “Hello, Y/N. How was the holiday?”

“Good,” You replied with a smile. “Glad to be back though.”

“Oh look!” Donovan announced as she walked up. “The bitch is back!”

“Ah!” A smirk formed upon your face and you turned to face you. “One person I haven’t been looking forward to seeing. Still shagging everyman you find?”

“I don’t sleep with everyone. Ugh! You’re so annoying.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re a fucking whore.”

“Alright!” Lestade announced as John and Sherlock tried to stifle their laughter. “Calm down.”

“Sorry,” You responded. “I just don’t like this constant inhaling exhaling thing she’s got going on.”

“Right, Y/N!” Lestrade threw his arms up in the air. “I hate to have to do this but you have to leave.”

“What?”

“I can’t have you arguing with Donovan all the time.”

“Fine!”

 

 

“My boys are back!” You shouted as you heard the door below shut.

“You need to stop arguing with Sally!” John called as he climbed up the stairs after a successful case. “One day, Lestrade will stop you coming to the crime scenes altogether!”

“‘Sally?’ I didn’t realise we were on a first name basis with her.”

“Shorter than Donovan. Easier to say.” John entered the flat after Sherlock.

“You haven’t even unpacked,” Sherlock noted.

“No,” You replied with a smile. “I guess I’m too eager to jump back into the action.”

Untitled -- Tom Holland x (Female) Reader

It was hard for me to avoid pronouns for a chunk of this, so I’m sorry for using female pronouns – I hate myself.

Ask for a follow back!

Thanks for 600+ followers, you’re all tight.x

Based (roughly) off the song “Muchacho” by Kings of Leon.

I don’t want to ruin anything, but there is mentions of d*ath. Please read at your own risk.x

Here’s something you won’t enjoy as much.x


Originally posted by poptartcalum

It had been some time since you had done something like this – gone and managed to pull off a surprise as well as you had this weekend. Although you had spent a significant amount of money and time to make this happen, you were glad you were going to see Tom after those couple of months apart. And although you had seen his family over the holidays, they were very excited to have you back in their home – and they were also really nervous because they didn’t want to spill the secret to Tom. After a year and a half of dating, it still managed to surprise you how well you had integrated into the Holland household, but you definitely loved being accepted so well into his family.

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Under The Back Porch

As a kid I lived with neglectful parents at best. At worst dad would turn his screams and fists on me but I learned quickly how to dodge the worst of it. Mom wasn’t much help, she’d just smoke in the kitchen and bitch at him for staying out so late.

At the time we lived basically in the middle of nowhere, our nearest neighbors were a long walk away for a six year old and we had trees between us. No one to run to for help. But I was pretty small for a kid my age. I learned I could fit pretty much anywhere. The closet. Dryer. I think even once I tucked myself under my futon in such a way I could still get some air but no one could see me.

I was a master at hiding. But it wasn’t for a good reason.

One night though, one night I chose to do something different.

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@leonygunawan said: HI ITS ME AGAIN!! i want to request a zach dempsey imagine where y/n are very close friends to jeff and at the night of the very very tragic accident y/n were with zach when clay called you THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE YOU💖💖

Author’s Note: Warning! Character death ahead.

Originally posted by void-obriens

ZACH X READER

“Zach,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and planting your hands on your hips as you stand in front of the TV. “Don’t give me those puppy eyes. We are not watching Transformers again. We’ve seen it three times this week.”

“But we watched Titanic all last month,” he pouts. 

“It’s a classic!”

“A classic that you constantly feel asleep to ten minutes in and then managed to miraculously wake up right when they hit the iceberg.”

You scoff. “‘Cause that’s when the good stuff starts happening!”

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Making your acquaintance (fem!mystrade <3)

Mycroft blinks in surprise at her sister’s text:

You’re too early. Drive around in a circle a few more times. -S

Oh, she will do no such thing. Mycroft raps on the glass divider. 

“Stop the car.”

She has hardly opened the door when the realisation hits her, just why Sherlock was trying to avoid her again. Yellow tape. Police. Cars. And Sherlock, standing in the middle of it all, in typical rant mode, hands flying every which way. 

Mycroft rolls her eyes. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” She storms forward. “Arrested, sister mine?” 

Her voice is deliberately loud, and Sherlock cringes as she spots her. 

“I told you to wait,” she replies.

“You are being ridiculous. Utterly-” Mycroft takes a deep breath. “Come on. We’re going.”

But, before she’s even considered how to persuade Sherlock to actually get into the car, an even louder voice bellows across to them.

“Oi! Just who the hell do you think you are?”

Mycroft does a double take as another young woman joins them, striding across with confidence, white shirt sleeves rolled up in a way that could only suggest outrage.

“Well?” the woman says, hands on hips now. 

Sherlock snorts.

Mycroft clears her throat and vaguely wonders why she fears becoming tongue-tied. “I am Sherlock’s sister.”

It’s the woman’s turn for a double take, now. She gapes at Sherlock. “You never told me you have a sister!”

Sherlock shrugs. “Evidently. Must have slipped my mind.”

And the woman is glancing between them, back and forth, with the beginnings of a smirk. “Actually, I can see the resembl-”

“Oh God, please don’t-”

“Excuse me,” Mycroft cuts across them. “If I could just clarify exactly what damage my sister has wrought and I’ll be able to pay a sum of-”

“Eh?” The woman is staring at her, and Mycroft feels odd- as if she’s in some sort of spotlight. “God, don’t you know? Your sister’s a genius. She’s working on a case for me. Got the lads bloody clueless, let me tell you, don’t know what we’d do without her.”

Mycroft blinks in confusion again. Of course, Sherlock’s genius is not a surprise, but the fact that she is actually… well. She’s doing very well indeed.

Mycroft clears her throat. “Men are idiots, anyway.”

The woman laughs. Mycroft likes the sound- un-apologetically raucous. “Too right. And a nightmare at work. At everything, really.”

Mycroft smiles. “Always.”

“Oh, what line are you in?”

She considers, and studiously ignores Sherlock’s grin. “Politics,” she replies, which is true as it stands.

The woman grins. “Ooh, hark at you. Right, dear,” she nods at Sherlock. “Are you free to go over that with me one more time?”

Sherlock actually hesitates, and Mycroft internally winces. She decides to say nothing, and she heartens at her sister’s confident reply when she realises Mycroft will not interrupt her: 

“Yes.”

Mycroft has already began to step back when the woman looks earnestly at her, and she freezes.

“We’ll only be another ten minutes, that alright with you?”

Once more, Mycroft blinks. “…I suppose I can go on a short drive.”

“Cracking.” The woman sticks out her hand. “Georgia Lestrade. But, don’t call me that. George works.”

Mycroft shakes her hand. “Mycroft Holmes.”

“You never told me your name,” Sherlock says indignantly.

George (George, Mycroft’s mind echoes) tuts. “You cheeky beggar, you’ve stolen my ID, how can you not know…”

Ten minutes later, Mycroft promptly returns. She opens the car door and slides out to give Sherlock room, only to nearly trip on the kerb at the sight of George Lestrade standing there.

Sherlock shuts the car door. They both ignore this.

George runs a hand through her hair. “Listen, Mycroft, can I ask you…”

Her heart is categorically not in her throat. “Yes?”

George grins. “Why are you carrying around an umbrella like that in summer?”

Mycroft blushes. To tell the truth, she almost forgets that it’s hooked over her forearm. “It goes with the image,” she lies.

“So I see.” George winks at her. “Maybe.. explain more at a… well, don’t know if you do pubs.”

“Fish and chips,” Mycroft says quickly, and feels her face growing even hotter.

“Uh- alright, then. Fish and chips. Sounds perfect.”

There’s a laugh in that, but it’s not mockery, which Mycroft appreciates. It could even pass as… fond.

She shakes George Lestrade’s hand one last time, and braces herself for a teasing car journey with Sherlock.

(tags with folk interested under the cut! This is my first try at fem mystrade, but I’d love to do more <3)

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Once there was a body found behind the middle school of my town (it was just dumped there though, the murder happened somewhere else) and they didn’t even call off school the next day. Nope, it was just “never mind the yellow caution tape, kids!” and “Nah, don’t look out the window at the news vans, get back to work”

The store I work in recently got refurbished. It was a relatively small store and hadn’t been updated since it was built some 60 years ago. We had signs up for months, detailing how it was changing, what was being changed, when the store would be closed, so on and so forth, leaflets were sent out with our paperboy to inform anyone who has newspapers delivered would still receive their papers as normal, as well as all the staff telling customers about it and warning them of closures and or anything that might be an inconvenience to them. But as everyone who works in retail will know, customers will always find something to complain about. 

  • 8 customers, complained that they wouldn’t get their papers and refused to pay for the days they wouldn’t receive them,even after getting their leaflets.
  • 5 of those said customers went out and bought their papers somewhere else, then phoned up or came in and complained that they now have 2 of their papers and refused to pay for the ones we sent them, even though they were given leaflets, and told in store that they would still get their papers. 
  • (This one I do feel kind of bad about) 1 woman, who I’d never actually seen before, came in mid renovation, looked around at all the stuff that had started changing, and proceeded to scream bloody murder at me, the only person on the shop front, about how this was going to effect her short term memory loss. Like, I’m really sorry to hear about that lady, and must be very difficult to deal with, but sadly not everything in the world is going to stand still for you, and screaming at me, a counter assistant, mid renovation isn’t going to change anything.
  • On a day where we closed midday, having put yellow tape around the front of the shop, putting up a big sign saying ‘SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED’, more customers than I can count, walked under or just plain ripped through the tape and tried to open our locked doors. Many of them yelled through the doors at us that they couldn’t get in. And once informed that ‘sorry, we’re closed for the day’ shouted at us for closing early and not telling them about it. (Even though you were told, I know you were told, I told most of you damn self yesterday.)
  • Multiple customers begging to be let in anyway because they just need some milk/some cigarettes/a packet of crisps. - I’m sorry but I cant let you in while work is being done, and even if I could, we have no tills to serve you on. - but I have the cash - I cant let you in, that would be dangerous.(Can you not see hard hat and gloves that I have to wear just to move stock out from the shop front?) - I’ll be careful. 
  • Customers after having been sent away already, called the shop to tell us what an inconvenience that was to them.
  • Customers phoned up our head office to complain that were weren’t open, we got a phone call from them to ask if we had our signs up because they were bored of telling customers that yes they do know that shop is closed today, sorry we cant make them open just so you can buy a packet of pasta or use the cash machine inside. 
  • At one point, nobody was in the front of the shop to tell a customer who had also missed the tape and sign that said we were closed to so he FUCKING SMASHED OUR GLASS DOOR AND WALKED INSIDE??????? WHO EVEN DOES THAT???? (Luckily the doors were going to be removed and fitted with new automatic ones later that week, be we (or the builders) had to boarder up the door with wood)
  • At one point, while the shop was essentially being gutted, having shelves and fridges and such ripped out, we had like a mini makeshift shop, like 1/10 the size of the full thing. (A tarp kind of thing acting as walls, one shelving stand, a fridge for milk and beer, cigarette cabinet, and half a counter strategically placed in front of the gap in the tarp so we could easily get in and out) so that people could get the ‘essentials’. Customers would routinely come in, look around, not find the thing they want, then try to just walk around the counter and into the part of the shop that was obviously closed off. In what store, anywhere in the world would you think it was okay to just walk behind the counter??? 
  • Sorry but you cant enter that part of the shop. - why not? - because the builders are in there, theyre working - but the thing i want is in there - if you cant find what you want out here, i will happily go check in the back for it - but I KNOW where it is!! It’ll be on that shelf - that shelf isnt there anymore - why - because were having a refit - so i cant have that thing, this is RIDICULOUS - if you can wait right here for a moment, I can see if we have it in the back - fine -*goes and gets the thing from the back* - why dont you have this thing out here anyway? you have those other similar things there! - I’m sorry we just dont have the space in this section for everything, we’re trying to keep it down to the basics - well I’ll be coming back for more of it so you should put it out here ready for me!
  • Sorry but you cant go through into that part of the shop. - why not? - We’re undergoing refurbishment, the builders are in there I’m afraid. - oh, can i go in and have a look? - sorry, no. - why not? - because its dangerous - but you can go in there! - yes, but i have to wear a hard hat while i pass and through - well can i wear one and have a look? - no. - WHY NOT? - because its dangerous and i could get into trouble for letting you in there. - but how will i know what it looks like? - you’ll just have to wait and see when its all done. - but i want to see it now! -(Internally: Youre a grown ass man! what kind of grown man throws a tantrum over this kind of thing??) 
  • Sorry but you cant go through to that section - but the thing i want is in there - *see’s the thing they want is wrapped up in a delivery dolly. Its not been scanned in yet but i know i can make a not if it for when we do get round to scanning things in.* Okay, if you could please wait right here, I’ll get it for you. - No, its fine, I can get it myself. - Sorry but I cant let you into that part of the shop. (at this point in time, one of the builders has noticed us talking and is very helpfully opening the dolly to get the item. He double checks its the right thing before bringing it over to us. the customer gets more shopping then i scan it through and bag it all up. but wait theres more) - how much did that scan at. - [item price] - how much? it was only [special offer price] last week. - That offer ended two weeks ago. - I dont want it then, take it off. 
  • Do you have any frozen veg? - Sorry, not at the moment. - You had some before. - Yes, but were undergoing a refit and we don’t have any freezers to keep frozen food in at the moment. - why not? - our old freeze has been sent to a different store and are new ones wont be here until next week. - how am i going to make a roast dinner now? - we still have fresh veg in our fridges in the back, as well as canned veg, I can go get some for you. - well what do you have in? - peas, cauliflower, parsnips, and we have some potatoes on the shelves. - can I see them? - sure i’ll get some for you, what would you like to see? - all of it, where is it? - its in the back, I’d have to bring it up. - can’t I just go look for myself - sorry no. I know its not convenient, but I cant let you through. - fine, bring me [these things] - *brings here the things* - *looks at all the things, frowns* - these arent frozen - (internally smashing my head against a wall) after 10 more minutes of back and forth, she decided to go somewhere else.

And these are just some of the highlights. 

Bite Me (Part 13)

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean (…a pairing is approaching…)

Warnings: mild language, bloody crime scene

Overview: You were raised in the hunter life. You fell out of it. It wasn’t your choice to get pulled back in.

Word Count: 1,421

A/N: This is the thirteenth installment in my first ever fanfic. Time for some plot progression action! Thanks to @wheresthekillswitch for letter checking - I love you and your commentary! These words, like everything else I write, are for me. Feel free to join me in the adventure.

Read (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12)


“So, Elana, did you hear about the kid that went missing one town over?” my coworker, Greg, asked me over the pile of dirty mugs we were working on cleaning together.

I frowned, “What? No. What happened?” My mind was stirring in the depths of its coffee shop coma I induced it to every day. Routine process was starting to be pushed aside by deductive thinking. I quelled my suppressed hunter instincts that were rapidly trying to rise to the surface.

“Yeah,” Greg said as he took the mugs he had just dried back out to the storefront. I followed him with the coffee pots. “Apparently this family was out camping in the woods and their daughter went off to play. They lost sight of her and she just up and disappeared.” He held out his hand for the pot and I handed it over. “The police have been searching the woods for over a day now, but they found some blood and think that a bear got her.” He turned to look at me, “Sad, isn’t it? You’d think that parents would keep a better eye on their children.”

I nodded slowly. Unable to stop a few of the bubbles that burst to the forefront of my mind, I couldn’t stop myself from slipping into interview mode. “Is this the first kid that’s gone missing?”

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