The female fans in the audience broke into applause as a woman at the microphone demanded to know where her “Black Widow” movie was, and if Marvel was dedicated to bringing out a solo female superhero movie.
NYCC: CUP O’ JOE (via antivillain)
So this is what I wrote instead of my nano novel. its 2am and I took a bit of nyquil before editing, so if there’s errors, I’ll probably get them in the morning:
Not One Iota – Stuck with a hard on and not wanting Sherlock to know, John takes refuge in the alley. Of course Sherlock knows anyway.
teaser below the cut
John leaned against the kitchen counter. This was ridiculous. He was a fully grown adult male; he knew how to handle an erection. But Sherlock had been around all day and if John hurried up stairs then Sherlock would know exactly what he was doing. Same if he suddenly took a shower in the middle of the day.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced into the front room, but Sherlock was still on the couch, fingers steepled. He’d hardly moved and John wanted to scream in frustration. Of course he could just go take care of it anyway, no matter what Sherlock might think, but the fact it was that git on the couch putting him in this condition was nearly too much as it was.
He made a show of opening the fridge and only found the kidneys from two days ago on the shelf. Good, an excuse. “Going to the shop,” he announced, striding out of the kitchen and grabbing his coat. His flatmate, like usual, said nothing.
Outside was chilly, but not nearly cold enough to take the edge off. He should go down to the pub, have a pint, find a girl, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Closing his eyes he turned down an alley and leaned against the bricks. His hand stole down to press his heel against his erection.
FUCKING AUSTRALIAN MORNING SHOWSI watched this one when it aired. And I didn’t even think anything of it. That’s how normal this kind of thing is on Today.
I see this kind of thing quite regularly here.
showed you georgie ya slut
I’m squeaking like a rubber duck from how hard I’m laughing at this hahahaIHHAHAHAHAHKSDALJ
taladraco replied to your post: I forget sometimes how da…
You took a break from writing to write.
Hush. Yes. Yes I did. Don’t judge me.
taladraco replied to your post: I forget sometimes how da…
You took a break from writing to write.
Hush. Yes. Yes I did. Don’t judge me.
I forget sometimes how damn fast I can write when I’m motivated. Took a break from nano to write some smut and popped off 418 words of johnlock in 10 minutes. Yikes.
Cabin Pressure! Angst/Martin!whump. Do you want an actual sentence prompt or something? Either way here’s one: “No one ever thought that Martin would be the hero in any story. Well. Now he’s lying in a hospital bed that should be occupied by Douglas, and none of them know what to make of it.” (I’m sorry I love angst. If you can’t work with this I’ll send you a new one~)
This is fine! I can work with angst. Hope this fits! =)
No one ever thought that Martin would be the hero in any story. He wasn’t the type really. He was too much of a stickler to break the kind of rules heroes in stories usually do and even if being heroic could be done in a way without breaking rules well… Martin was more likely to make a situation worse.
The closest anyone thought he would get to being a hero was landing a plane on one engine. Until this day.
This morning.
It had been a normal flight, well for MJN. A pair of business men and the slightly shady looking younger brother of the older business man. Carolyn had protested the brother coming until the price of their fare was doubled then she had been content. Martin had just sighed and gotten back to fighting with Douglas over who was operating out. Douglas had won.
But about halfway into the flight, everything had gone to hell. Martin had called for coffee, his third this flight. When Arthur hadn’t come, Martin had gotten up and opened the door.
Which let the younger brother into the flight deck, his gun now pointing at Martin, instead of the tied up Arthur and Carolyn. Douglas had clenched the wheel tighter, his eyes darting to the radio.
“Don’t even think about it.” He had moved the gun to Douglas and at that moment, Martin had struck. He’d tackled the man and GERTI jerked when Douglas heard the gun discharge.
Then it had gone off again and Martin had cried out. Unable to look to his friend, Douglas had called for help and landed the plane on the nearest flat surface.
It took three hours for the traffic jam to clear but the paramedics agreed it had saved Martin’s life.
Now Martin is lying in a hospital bed, with a bullet hole through his lung, in a bed that Douglas can’t help but think should be occupied by him, and none of them know what to do. Martin had been lucky, the doctors said, that the first bullet had bounced off his gold braid and into the other man’s chest.
With a second shot through his lung, no one is sure if that is sarcasm or not.
This is wonderful! Thank you so much!