The truth is, I’m hopelessly in love with you. I said it many times to you, and I’ll say it many times about you. I’m crazy, I’m obsessive, I’m needy, I’m protective, I don’t care. I fell in love with you, and now I don’t know how to fall out of love. Now I don’t know where to put the memories, how to shake the thought of you and the truth is I fucking miss you. God damn, I want to hate you, I want to feel my blood boil at the thought of you, but I have nothing to hate you for. All you ever did was shower me with love, how could I hate you for making me happy? How could I hate somebody so innocently perfect? I miss you, I miss us, I miss the way you used to look at me and I miss the way you talk. I miss your stupid walk and your gross facial hair, I miss the tiny little things that I used to tease you for because now I don’t get to laugh at them. I took everything for granted, I took our entire relationship for granted because I made up in my head that it was forever, that for once a boy wasn’t lying to me. And I was so damn stupid to think that, to fall in love as if there was no tomorrow because of course you were going to leave and of course you were lying. What do I have that is so special? Nothing, I got nothing. And now you’re gone, gone for good and I’m left here not knowing what the fuck to do. Not knowing where to place all this love and not knowing how to smile on my own. You carried me through so much and dropped me like I was nothing, like everything we went through was all just a dream, and I guess now I’m living a fucking nightmare
Every kid in Gotham knows to hit up Wayne Manor on Halloween, they give you MULTIPLE REGULAR SIZED CANDY BARS!! none of this fun-size shit
They also have a separate bucket of small toys for children with complex food allergies
Best decorations in town, it’s go hard or go home and Bruce never backs down from a challenge, cobwebs everywhere, GHOSTS! mother fukcing PUMPKINS!!!
Bruce isn’t allowed to answer the door because he lets all the kids dressed up as Batfam and Wonder Woman have as much candy as they want and gives dental floss to those dressed as clowns, also kids dressed as Superman but he’ll deny it
Damian:*Carves a pumpkin with a really ugly face* Drake! come at once! Tim: *Sigh* what? Damian:*Smirks and turns the pumpkin to face Tim* it’s you
Food fight in the kitchen with the scooped out pumpkin flesh
Almost everyone wears costumes to make Dick happy
Dick once forced Damian into a child’s Batman costume, Damian was outraged by the plastic Batarangs, Bruce totally didn’t have tears in his eyes fuck you
Jason never wears a costume no matter how hard Dick pouts at him, this leads to an array of replies when people ask why he’s not in costume e.g “My muscles are too big to fit in any costume” “I’m dressed as a sinner” “I’m dressed up as a serial killer. They look like everybody else” “I’m dressed as the miracle of life” “a pumpkin killed my parents, how dare you”
Tim once dressed as a Ghostbuster and wouldn’t stop trying to hoover up Jason and Damian
Stephanie and Cassandra always dress in matching or related costumes, it’s super fucking cute
Dick: Where’s your outfit, Alfred?? Alfred: *pulls out a pair of rabbit ears and places them on his head* I am a bunny Master Grayson. Hop. Hop
Barbara dresses as a mermaid which AmAZES!! all the kids, cause it totally makes sense!!! her red hair which means she’s related to Ariel #kidlogic
Dick:*Dressed as Dracula* I want to SUCK YOUR BLOOD!! Jason: You can suck my di- Bruce: LANGUAGE!!
Batcow, Titus, Alfred the cat, and Goliath all have home made costumes made by Damian
Dick always gets sick from eating the most candy, he says he’s doing it to save everyone else from having cavities, he’s a dirty liar
Tim: *Walks around Walmart pointing to decorations* Spoopy
Jason: Raisins!??? RAISINS?? who the hell gives raisins on Halloween Bruce??? Monsters that’s who
Little kid: *See’s Jason as Red Hood on Halloween* what are you meant to be mr? Jason: I’m a used tampon Others: *through the comms* JASON!!!
spread for next week ! I don’t really like this flatlay but whatever lol?? i ran out of things to use so I used some paint swatch things LMAO why am I like this??? also can we talk about how beautiful paperkumaco stickers are bc,,, im obsessed?? also I cannot believe I’m turning 16 tmrw i want to cry ;-;
♫ blood sweat & tears by bts (and lowkey all their other songs)
This is long, be warned. I live in a lowish income neighborhood. My little section is pretty nice, but if you go a few blocks in any direction, it gets pretty shitty. That means I’ve had a few run ins with skeevy meth heads and small time thieves.
This started when I moved in to my house. I noticed that on trash pick-up days, people would go up and down the alley where the trash cans go and dig through looking for recyclables. One of them was a guy I called Old Bob.
Old Bob lived a few houses down. He said he collected to buy presents for his grandkids. I don’t think the kids liked pints of Dark Eyes vodka, but he was harmless. So I started bagging up my cans separately so Old Bob didn’t have to dig through my trash.
Then, there were Tweeter and Skeeter. They would roll up and down the alley in a junky old truck with no exhaust that belched blue smoke. They looked like the after pictures from Faces of Meth. After they saw in was bagging cans for Old Bob, they started grabbing them. This didn’t sit well with me.
The next time I saw Old Bob, I told him I would leave my stuff just inside my yard, up against my shed, where you couldn’t see the bag from the alley. This went on for a month. Then, I heard and smelled Tweeter and Skeeter rumbling down the alley. I didn’t think anything of it, then I heard the rattle of a bag of aluminum cans being thrown into the bed of a truck. Those fuckers had gone into my yard to grab Old Bob’s drinking money. That shit would not stand.
I went to the hardware store; I bought a cheap pair of locks and some latches. I put the latches on my trash cans, I would unlock them when I left for work, which was about 15 minutes before the trash truck came down the alley. I also gave Old Bob a key. By this time, we were becoming downright neighborly. I would chat with him and have him help me around the yard and throw any spare cash his way.
After a few weeks, I heard Tweeter and Skeeter again. I heard them stop, then rattle the can lids, then drive off. I came out the next morning and the fuckers had pried the latches off my cans, and stolen the locks, too.
Now I was pissed. They were stealing Old Bob’s drinking money, and they had fucked with my shit. I stopped keeping cans separate, and started dumping used cat litter over everything.
Tweeter and Skeeter would still roll up to my trash area, but they weren’t willing to dig through shit to get anything. Old Bob was still helping me around the yard, so I would hands him bags of cans when he was over, in addition to the extra cash.
Everything was quiet for a few months. Then, we had a bad storm and the gutters on the alley side of my shed got messed up. They were in OK shape, but the underlying board and gotten torn up. It was too late in the day to do anything, but I figured Old Bob and I could take care of it the next day.
That night, I was woken up by Tweeter and Skeeters damn truck. But before I could throw pants and shoes on and chase them off, they were gone. So were the gutters on my shed.
Needless to say, I was fucking livid. After I calmed down, I went to Home Depot to get a new gutter. As luck would have it, I heard the fucking meth-mobile start up in the parking lot as I was walking in.
I wasn’t about to confront them directly, since I like having all of my blood and internal organs on the inside. What in did do, though, was get a good look at their liscense plates.
They were expired (of course) but the layer of soot from burning oil had obscured the sticker. You wouldn’t notice it from more than 5 feet away.
Finally, I had a way to get back at them. I called a relative who knew a few of the local PD. They said the address on the last registration was a house that had since been burned down in a meth lab fire. They never caught the cooks, but they going to keep an eye out for the truck. If nothing else, they would get a ticket and have to put current plates with a real address on them.
I was OK with this, but I wanted blood. I got my wish when the city did heavy trash pick-up.
I put an old grill in my back yard and scratched “Not Trash”, on the underside, along with spraypainting the smokestack white. Sure enough, Tweeter and Skeeter saw it and couldn’t resist. Once they had done that, I spent a few hours on a Saturday driving around the shittier parts of my neighborhood until I spotted my grill sitting in a yard.
I called my buddy with the police contacts and told them where they could find Tweeter and Skeeter and their un-registered vehicle, along with a stolen grill.
A few hours later, Tweeter and Skeeter came home to a few cops waiting for them. Since scrapping from heavy trash pick-up had been good to them, they were caught with a not insignificant amount of Meth and a lot of precursors to make more.
Tweeter has to serve out a 5 year sentence in prison. He also pinned the lab fire on Skeeter, who will be serving 10 years along side him.
Imagine: You are angry because you ex seems to be really hitting it off since you two broke up. In order to help you through it, Klaus Mikaelson, your best friend, shows up in your place. There, he decides to come clean about his own feelings. After that, things get a bit hot in your room.
Word Count: 3043
A light rain was pouring outside, matching your
horrible mood. Today you had the misfortune of bumping into your
ex boyfriend, Matt Donovan, and, to make things even worse, he looked
like he could not be any happier, babbling about his growing
success. Like you wanted to actually know that! Urgh!
And that son of a bitch still felt in the right to comment about your
life and fucking laugh about it. So what you had been going out
and drinking more? It was none of his business.
Taking a deep breath, you turned on the radio. Music
helped a lot to discharge the anger and keep your emotions together.
Right now, it was exactly what you needed. Luckily, your girl power
song was on: Beyoncé’s hit Single Ladies. A smile fastly appeared,
as you started to sing and dance along.
“Acting up, drink in my cup! I can’t care less
what you think.” You swayed your hips to the tune and rolled
your eyes, wishing you were telling him that. “I need no
permission, did I mention?”
“I take you are in a good mood, Y/N.”
The singing stopped and strangled scream came out
instead. It took a few seconds for you to realise who had barged into
your room, invading your privacy. After the fear went off and Klaus
was laughing out loud, you frowned, angry.
“This is not funny. I could have had a heart
“You’re a banshee, I’m pretty sure you are able
to predict your own death.” You narrowed your eyes. “I’m
just kidding! I came back town yesterday and heard Matt was at Mystic
Falls as well. Thought I’d come to see how you were doing.”
A bit of back story:
I’m the dm for my newly started group, and im starting each player with a solo session to get them use to the world and to give them a good grounds for how they got together. When I got to the rogue’s session he was having a blast. He started with looking for a bounty for a smuggler and found out that his bounty was apart of a crew that found “Black Dust” (Gunpowder) and the smuggler lost it all.
He then goes to his contact who is a sadistic slave owner, whom he got out of trouble with his own bounty with the help of the rogue, and saw him torture a pair of elf slaves who were sisters (This is important later on he found out). And something about the rogue, he likes to give his victims three options, the first is to turn them in for the alive bounty, the second is to collect dead bounty, and the last is to hide the person with the bounty for double the price.
Anyway, so the main adventure is done, and the rogue helped out a famous pirate captain with finding his lost blackdust, this is them talking in the captain’s office.
Dragonborn Captain: “Right, so here is ye payment. Have to say boy, you really helped us out.”
Half-elf Rogue: “It’s no big deal, I got my payment that’s all that matters.”
DC: “Indeed, but before you go, I have something to ask of ye.”
HR: “Hm? Sure, what is it?”
DC: “You see, I was adopted into a half-elf family… I haven’t seen my two sisters in sometime, and I be worried.”
HR: (Worried about where this is going.) “…I- I see… I suppose i can try to find them… do you know where they were last?”
DC: “On this island actually, they went to work as models for this one painter named (Contact’s name), I’ve been meaning to see them myself but with all this business as of late…”
HR: (Sweating like a pig) “Oh…. um… I don’t know the guy, i’ll be happy to look around for them… But, just a question, what would you do if you found out that something happened to them…?”
DC: (Without missing a beat and way to cheerfully) “Oh, just raid the city in search for the bastard and murder anyone who got in my way, nothing too drastic.”
Later on, after the Rogue found his contact’s place and found out one of the sisters was dead, the other missing a leg.
HR: “Shit! Do you know where Eric (Contact) is?”
Slave: “W-why? P-please don’t tell me you’re here to torture me too…”
HR: “No! Your brothe-”
Eric: “FRIEND! It’s good to see you again! I knew you wanted some blood shed on this worthless piece of meat!”
A long pause, with the Rogue just staring at his contact.
HR: “Eric, I have three options for you…”
Eric, who knows what’s going on when he says that: “… Friend, please, i’ll pay you double…”
HR: “I kinda lied about the third option this time.”
Eric: “Why, you know i’m good on the money!”
HR: “IT’S FOR THE CITY, ERIC. I FUCKING LIVE HERE!”
A/N: I recently got attacked in my real life, and all I could think about was Peter Parker taking care of me and I came up with this, roles switched. This is extremely cliche but sometimes cliche stories make the best ones. Not my gif.
This is my first time writing for Peter Parker so please do leave me feedbackhere<3
The only light that was being emitted in your bedroom was the simple rectangular shine from your phone, as you scrolled through past photos of friends and family; focusing on one person in particular. You were trying to figure out when all of this happened, when just being friends suddenly bloomed into something bigger, something you were terrified to admit.
Summary: Dean has the Mark. The reader can tell he’s holding back during sex and urges him to just let go.
Word Count: 1277
Warnings: Language and Smut. Really, it’s just porn.
A/N: My headcanon is that Dean is a very giving lover. For him, sex isn’t just about getting off, but about human connection and mutual pleasure. I’ve been thinking a lot about (and discussing with @torn-and-frayed ) what MOC!Dean is like. Here’s what I came up with.
Tags are at the bottom. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
Fucking hell, she feels good. She’s spread out beneath me, her legs wide, her feet hooked around my ankles. I’ve only got the tip of my dick in her, but fuck me. She’s so wet and warm and tight. I’m trying my hardest to hold back, I’m feeling so desperate to be inside of her, deep and hard. I take a shallow breath and close my eyes, just trying to focus on the feel of her wrapped around the head of my shaft.
I feel her hand cover the Mark on my forearm, it feels soothing somehow. The Mark is constantly tugging at me, digging into me, but her touch relieves some of the irritation. I open my eyes and focus on hers. It grounds me somehow, staring into those beautiful eyes.
“Dean,” she says softly. “It’s okay, let go. I know you’re holding back, just let go.”
I swallow hard because Jesus Christ, I just want to let go. The Mark has changed me in so many ways. It scares me but makes me feel so alive all at once. Sex has always been about giving for me. I mean, getting it is good. It’s really fucking good. To be honest, this life is a lonely life, there hasn’t been much warmth or human connection, so when I’m with a woman, I want to make it last. It’s about her as much as it is about me. The Mark makes me volatile, it freaks me out. A lot. I don’t want to scare her. I’m a goddamn ticking time bomb, I feel like I’m going to explode at any moment.
“I…can’t…” I trail off. Jesus, I’m inside of her, and we are having this discussion. The Mark is screaming, roaring in my blood. I want to take her, I want to do it hard and fast. I want it so bad.
Her eyes soften. “Dean, I trust you.”
Jesus Christ, that does me in. I give in to my urges and sink as deep into her as I can, right to the fucking base of my cock. She gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head. The look of pure pleasure on her face sends me over the edge. I take her breast in my hand and palm it roughly, pressing against the taut nipple, she bucks her hips up and moans in response. Fuck, that’s hot. Leaning in, I kiss her, shoving my tongue into her mouth. I’m not gentle and she doesn’t want me to be, her tongue fighting with mine as I pound into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air. When I pull my lips from hers, she’s breathing so fucking heavy, her eyes lidded. Her breasts jiggle every time I slam into her, and damn, it’s sexy. I’m overcome with a sudden desire to taste her. I pull out and she makes a high pitched, keening sound. Damn, I should’ve done this sooner.
There was a rasp of knuckles against the glass window pane, and an unmistakable smile winked out at you in the darkness as you tiptoed towards the source. You grabbed at the wooden frame, sliding the window up and cocking your head silently at a mischievous looking Kai Parker. It was two in the morning and he was alert and awake as ever, wearing a jean jacket over an old tee with black skinnies, his dark converse covered in the dirt from your garden. He giggled with contempt when met with your exasperated expression, to which you shushed him with a signal of your finger to your lips. He rolled his eyes and extended his arm for a hand, even though he was very capable of getting in without your help.
“What are you doing here?” you said, closing the window after him and quickly shutting your bedroom door.
“Cute room,” he ignored you, looking at the white walls covered in a patchwork of photos and glowing string lights.
“Kai,” you urged.
“Is it so bad for me to want to see you?” he pouted with false sadness, lower lip jutting out as he gave you those blue puppy eyes.
“I thought we agreed on no more midnight visits,” you whispered, leaning your back against the door.
“It’s not midnight, it’s two in the morning, you’re welcome,” he winked.
You ran your hands across your face with an agitated shake of your head.
“Plus,” he winked, “I like coming now, when you look really cute in your pj’s.”
You dropped your hands and gave a snort at yourself, looking over your clothes; oversized white sweatshirt, battered blue knee socks that stretched up your legs, and a messy pony that stuck out here and there.
“You do, princess” he insisted, stepping closer, the distance of your bodies clearly bothering him. He pulled you in gently by the wrists, lips planting to your forehead before he brought his arms slinking back around your waistline.
“Kai,” you bit at the inside of your cheek, “you do remember I’m living with Elena, right? As in, Elena Gilbert who hates your guts? If she or anyone else finds out about us, can you imagine what that would get me into?!”
Kai’s plump lips spread into that familiar smirk, dimples lighting his cheeks, “so there’s an us?”
You rolled your eyes, but seeing Kai flash a patient and goofy smile, chuckled in defeat, “Yes, okay, fine, there’s an us.” But…I,” your smile faltered as you pieced together a troubling thought.
“What?” Kai said with sudden worry, “tell me.” He closed the gap between your bodies, knuckles coming up to stroke your cheek lightly.
“I love what we have, Kai. And I don’t want to lose it, but if we get caught…” you trailed off.
Kai froze, his expression going serious, blue eyes saddening,”Y/N.”
“Yeah?” you raised your head, eyes meeting with his, which he promptly pulled away, his jaw pulsating lightly.
“Answer me honestly,” he whispered to the wooden floor.
You nodded, trying to catch his gaze to no prevail.
“Are you embarrassed to be with me?” he said quietly.
Your eyebrows drew together in surprise, lips tilting down, “what?”
Kai’s expression was pained as he flickered his attention back up to you, “honestly,” he said again.
“No, no,” of course not,” you murmured, fingers coming up to graze his stubble and tilt his set jaw back up to your eyes. “Why would you say that?”
He sighed and chewed at his lower lip, releasing his hold around you.
“I don’t know, Y/N,” he sighed, voice low. “But I’m not ashamed of ‘what we have here,’ and clearly you are since we’ve been playing this game for weeks.”
You closed your eyes and turned away, pacing lightly as you formulated your next words.
“It’s not like that, Kai,” you breathed lamely.
“So then what? Why do we sneak around like this all the time, I-I hate it,” he stammered, shaking his head.
You stopped in your tracks, feet planting to the ground. You raised your head, and in the reflection of the glass window you could see Kai staring at you, blue eyes glistening and slender fingers twisting at his silver rings with worry.
“I want to…” he trailed off softly, his bright eyes meeting yours in the reflection.
“Want to what?” you stood your ground, heart hammering away.
“I want to hold your hand,” Kai whispered, approaching you from behind, his fingertips coming to graze lightly against yours, sending electricity through your blood.
“I want to tell you how beautiful you are,” he flushed rose, tracing a pattern against your opened palms.
“I want to bring you flowers,” he said, swishing his hand and plucking a yellow dandelion from the air before pushing your hair softly back to tuck it snugly behind your ear.
He stepped around to stand in front of you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he held your face in his hold, eyes darting over your features as you breathed in a shaky breath and lost yourself in his soft aroma of pines and spice.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, brushing his parted lips on the tip of your nose.
“I want to do all these things with you all the time, without having to feel scared, without having to hide how much I love you,” he said. “Because I do love you, with every beat of my dead heart, I love you.”
He stared at you, gaze intense, waiting for a response, but your words seemed frozen in your throat. He dropped his hands, taking a step back with a gulp, “but if you don’t feel like that…”
“I do,” you cut him off, taking him by the wrists and bringing him back to you. “I’m not scared to be caught because I’m scared of what people will think of me, I’m scared to get caught because I’m scared of what they’ll think of you. I couldn’t care less about judgement against myself, but if they found out, do you think they would be happy for us? I’m supposed to be ‘the good one’ you know, the one who always does the right thing, and you’re-”
“The psychopath,” he finished quietly.
“No, but you’re not,” you said, tilting his face to yours when he tried to turn. “You were outcast for something you couldn’t control, so you put these walls up because nobody would let you in. But I did. I saw a boy who was abandoned and abused to the point where no one could see him for what he was; the most clever, witty, charming, and compassionate guy I’ve had the privilege of falling in love with. But they don’t see that, and I hate it. I hate it because it means they would think you were a bad influence, because they would try and take you away from me, or hurt you, and I don’t ever want to think of a life without you in it, Malachai Parker.”
His lips trembled, tears escaping from his eyes and rolling across his sculpted cheeks.
“You love me?” he murmured, almost barely audibly, as if the thought alone was unbelievable to him.
You bounced onto your tip toes, catching his tears with little kisses before planting your lips softly against his own.
“With all my heart,” you smiled softly.
Kai smiled faintly, unable to speak as he practically flew into your arms, wrapping you in his embrace, arms firm around you as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, his hands gently pulling through your locks, cool rings brushing against your flesh.
“What’s wrong?” you said into his skin, eyes closed.
“I’m happy,” he assured, “I just don’t know how to show you how thankful I am.”
“For what?” you said, brushing your lips against his jaw.
“For you,” he said.
You blushed furiously and pecked him on the lips, “you can start by being my boyfriend.”
“I like the sound of that,” he smiled against your mouth.
“You sure? I didn’t scare you off just now?” you asked.
“I’m sure,” he said, squishing his nose against yours. “I’d do it all for you.”