like look at that faucet

“Platonic” Bed-sharing: A Snowbaz Fic

In which there is much Snowbaz fluff. 

Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!

“Snow. No”

“Snow yes!”

Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.

The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.

“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.

He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.

“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.

“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”

It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.

“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”

Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.

“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”

That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.

“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.

Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.

“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”

Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.

“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.

Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.

Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.

Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?

This would certainly be a long night.

Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.

“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.

“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”

“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”

Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.

“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”

Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.

This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay.  Baz thought.

He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.

Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.

Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.

A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.

“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.

It was a mistake.

Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.

Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.

“Baz. Why are we like this?”

“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.

The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.

“Why do we hate each other?”

Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.

“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume. 

He was getting annoyed.

Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.

This was a mistake.

Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”

“Welcome to the real world.”

“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.

He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.

“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.

Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.

“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”

Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.

“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.

“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.

Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.

Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.

“S-simon?” He managed.

“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”

“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”

Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.

“I don’t know.”


They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?

Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.

Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.

Physically and mentally, he froze.

Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.

Why did Simon care about him?

Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?

Why were they holding hands in a bed?

What the fuck was happening?

Why were they not kissing?

They should kiss.

He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.

“Simon?” He whispered.

“Kiss me.” Simon whispered back.

And he did.

A Summary of Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 133

-Which one of you scientoasts let fruit become sentient and gave them a gun

-Urie: im over being a terrorist I’m gonna become a leaky faucet

- Papa Brows uses You look like your father trope it’s super effective in lighting his own cremation fire

-Bujin enemy zoned

-Furuta doesn’t know how to deal with tattle tales cause it’s usually him

-Not even death can stop a D&D campaign

-Hajime stop killing and take your killer talent and turn it into an act for brats


-Touka and kids gonna play the most deadly and epic version of hide and seek

-Awww Fruit bringing people to circuses before they die like the make a wish foundation

-Next time on Tokyo Ghoul:re: think on the bright side guys at least they will be more food to go around when everyone dies

Fireflies - A “Bendy and the Ink Machine” Story

I think I might be out of writing block. 

I wanted to write a fluffy, kind of “angsty” story about  @shinyzango  ‘s 2D Bendy AU. Honestly, the relationship between Henry and Bendy is too adorable. I haven’t written in a while, so I apologize if this didn’t turn out the way I was intending it to.

Also the reason this is posted so late is because my sleeping schedule has made me unable to sleep until like, 2 in the morning. Dear God, I need to stop sleeping so late. 

Anyways, enjoy! Hopefully it wasn’t written to badly. 

Also, the ©2D Bendy AU by @shinyzango , Thank you for a great AU!

©Bendy and the Ink Machine by TheMeatly Games

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand ACTION!

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Heaven only knows what goes on behind closed doors

A/N: OH WOW IT’S BEEN SO LONG HASN’T IT?? i’ve decided to write it in taron’s POV and I’m telling you this one here is gonna be full of sex. A tiny bit of fluff on the side, it’s hardly noticeable but it will still lead you to sex haha and it contains a slash smut, not going into details so prepare your bibles because it’s about to get dirty

Taron’s POV

Y/N has been acting immensely weird lately. I don’t understand why. She was so clingy the past days, demanding to come with me wherever I go like on sets, on my interviews, promotions or wherever I have to be. Not that I’m complaining though, but she never leaves my side and she’ll freak out everytime I leave her sight.

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clearly-shady-bouquet  asked:

Can you do them reacting to their S/O being good at baking but horrible at cooking?

ofc!! sorry it took so long exams have been kickin my ass


• u two are baking brownies for the boys since theyve been stressed lately and u wanted to do something nice for them
• shownu watches in awe as u expertly pour in and mix the brown batter in the bowl
• u always had some kinda magic touch when it came to baking, u knew how much sugar and flour to add in and when to add the vanilla extract
• it just made shownu smile bc wow how cute is that ur working ur butt off for some sweet treats for him and his members
• “hey (y/n) i’ll take over the stirring can u make eggs or something? i havent eaten all day”
• u freeze and give him a smile
• “sure”
• u hand him the bowl and walk over to the fridge to grab some eggs. easy enough right?
• u crack the eggs into the pan, not failing to leave some egg shell in the yolk thats starting to sizzle in the pan
• u turn to shownu whos diligently mixing the batter, workin up a sweat
• tbh he looks real good
• hes totally shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants and to top it off, a cute little pink apron that looks like its gonna bust open at the seams
• u lean against the stove, basking in the appearance of this actual adonis in an adorably domestic setting
• unfortunately u totally forget that stoves are hot and pull ur hand away as it stings with heat
• shownu puts the bowl down and rushes over to u, holding ur hands and blowing frantically at them
• “babe are u okay?” he asks worriedly, his eyes watching ur reaction closely to see if ur in any great pain
• u reassure him “im fine” until u hear the beeping of the fire alarm
• “oh my GOD”
• u turn around to see the pan totally covered in SMOKE and shownu switches the stove off
• ur kinda upset that u cant even make eggs for ur boyfriend but shownu just chuckles and kisses ur forehead
• “next time i’ll cook okay?”


• “baby are u hungry?” wonho comes into ur shared room where ur sitting in bed on ur phone. he wraps his arms around ur waist and nuzzles his nose into ur neck
• u smile at the sensation. “mm kinda? what do u wanna eat?”
• he gives u a knowing smile and u sigh and get up from the mattress
• “ramen?”
• he smiles and takes a hold of ur hand, stroking ur index finger with his thumb
• u know me so well"
• the two of u chase each other to the kitchen and u grab the very familiar plastic bowl labelled shin ramen
• u rip off the lid and unlock the hot water dispenser, filling the bowl to an unsteady level where the water is teetering around the edges. u put the bowl in the microwave and punch in 50 seconds
• all seems well until u hear some popping noises from inside the microwave
• “um. babe”
• “yea?” u ask, too scared to turn around and see what happened inside the microwave
• “did u take out the sauce packet before adding water and putting it in there?”
• “oh my g-”
• wonho moves u out of the way and opens the microwave, his face contorting at the smell of burning plastic and the sight of ramen sauce power all over the inner surface. some soup flowed over the top too
• u laugh nervously, put ur hand over wonhos, and close the microwave. u head over to the fridge and take out a plate
• “how about we eat the macarons i made yesterday?” u give a sheepish smile
• a smile creeps onto his face and a goofy laugh escapes his lips. ur hysterically laughing and he’s bent over his knees, so thoroughly amused by ur antics
• “man i dont know how u do it. but yea i’ll take a macaron” he opens his mouth. u pop one into his mouth and he chews then hums with delight
• “these are so good??? what happened just now? are u the same (y/n) i know and love?”
• u two laugh again and he puts u in a playful headlock and plants kisses on the top of ur head


• u got a text earlier that ur boyfriends gonna come home late so u wanna surprise him with a nice meal
• u can bake a mean cake but ur not too confident about ur cooking abilities
• but u’ve baked minhyuk so many cookies and cakes and cupcakes ur worried for that boys blood sugar
• so after watching 3 youtube tutorials u try to make kimchi stew, one of his favorites
• u roll up ur sleeves and get to work. u throw some broth and vegetables into the pot
• u cut some kimchi then some fishcake some spring onions u get the pork out of the fridge
• u think its going well
• until u get a text from minhyuk that he’s on the way home
• according to ur calculations he was supposed to be coming home late
• shit
• u do some quick math if u boil the stew at maximum heat for 2 minutes u’ll finish in time before minhyuk gets home so u crank that stove up and
• KACHOW the pot overflows
• soup is everywhere, the kimchi is on the floor, ur kitchen looks like a natural disaster
• “honey! where are u???”
• he comes into the kitchen sweaty from practice and ur just on the floor crying next to ur empty pot, food is scattered around the floor
• “oh baby what happened?” he cooes at u and crouches down next to u, wiping ur tears with his thumb
• u barely manage to get a sentence out
• “i-i tried to cook u” u hiccup, “something but e-everything just fell apart”
• he kisses u on the forehead and stands up to grab his phone
• “well i like pizza. how about we order some pizza and we watch kitchen nightmares yea?” u flinch at kitchen nightmares. “okay how about we watch house hunters” u nod frantically and smile
• totally ignore the mess on the floor
• u clean it up eventually dont worry


• u made a deal with minhyuk that at the next house party u were gonna cook something to bring and kihyun was gonna bake a cake to bring along with the food u made and in return he was gonna make a video of himself flicking a booger and post it on instagram
• the problem? minhyuk knows u cant cook for shit and kihyun cant bake for shit
• kihyun originally protested saying “he doesn’t want his house to end in flames” but after minhyuk kept egging him on saying he was a wuss, he threw on his apron and started reading martha stewart books
• so u and him are in ur kitchen, face in hands and sitting at the counter
• “why did i agree to this”
• “why did i let u agree to this”
• u sigh and slide off the stool. “i mean i can make like, fried rice right?” kihyun groans. “knowing u it might result in a call to 911” u shoot him a glare. “hey bobby flay at least i know how to bake a cake”
• he scratches his head and gets off the stool. “how about we make this a competition between ourselves. whoever makes the better dish wins”
• “ur on yoo kihyun”
• its like iron chef u two start scrambling around ur kitchen, opening cabinets and packages
• u lift the lid of the rice cooker and groan in frustration as u see a clean, empty container
• kihyun indulges himself in a shrill giggle until it abruptly stops when he’s opened the last cabinet and found no cake mix
• “u’ve got to be kidding me”
• u hover over the grey pot, finally shutting off the faucet when the rice grains look like they’re drowning in tap water
• kihyun’s throwing sugar, flour, and eggs into a bowl, trusting his “chef’s intuition” that he doesn’t need measuring cups for a mere cake
• u throw the soggy rice into the pan and just start adding stuff u think will taste good together in there. zucchini, bits of kale, ketchup, leftover chicken that probably has been sitting in ur fridge for at least 2 weeks
• it smells pretty goddamn awful but when u look over at kihyun u think u have a good shot at winning
• he’s gotten green food coloring all over his hands and t-shirt and the batter’s completely runny
• “how u doin ogre there”
• “im never doing this ever again”


• u two are laying on opposite sides of the couch, sitting up to show each other dog pictures and whatnot
• u see a video on instagram showing u how to make this yummy looking beef over rice thing
• u lean over hyungwons knee, excitedly showing him the video and how u should make it for him
• he gives u this knowing look
• “(y/n) do u remember the last time u cooked something?”
• “no why”
• “i was taking a nap and u tried to make this weird chicken thing u saw on youtube”
• “uh huh”
• “and when i walked into the kitchen”
• “yea?”
• “i have never seen so much fire-”
• u playfully slap him on the thigh, pouting. “i forgot to turn the stove down while it was boiling!!!” u huff, turning away while crossing ur arms
• hyungwon laughs and sits up to ruffle ur hair
• “but u made it up by baking cupcakes to give to the very nice firemen who saved our apartment”
• u giggle and bring ur knees up to ur chin, reminiscing in the time u almost burned down ur entire apartment complex
• hyungwon sits crosslegged facing u, staring at ur face
• “what?”
• “im just wondering how the hell u managed to do that”
• “no cupcakes for u then”
• he whines and the two of u share a laugh and settle back into the sofa to continue laughing at twitter memes


• he never fails to send u a text asking if u’ve eaten yet and if ur free, to go out and get lunch together
• its the sweetest thing and u decide u wanna do something nice for him
• so u roll up ur sleeves and make a lunchbox for him. its kinda childish but it seems easy to make and for ur……limited cooking skills, its ideal
• ur in the kitchen, scraping an egg off the pan as it burns to a crisp
• “aw man that was the last egg,” u whine, looking at all the failed prototypes on a plate next to the stove
• u begrudgingly roll up the burnt egg in the lunchbox and set up some lettuce on the side, trying to make it presentable at least
• now time for the Meat
• the last time u cooked meat was when u and jooheon were out eating kbbq and whenever the tongs were in ur hand u’d somehow toss the meat in a way that cooked it. lets say well overdone
• jooheon had to call a worker to get the fire down even tho it was at its lowest heat. nobody on the restaurant knows how u did it
• so yea ur not the best at cooking meat but hey second times the charm
• so u slide the beef into the pan, satisfied with the sizzling sound that came after
• now the hard part. knowing when to flip it so it doesnt slowly burn into charcoal. so u just keep flipping it mindlessly, too scared to let it burn
• the beef is just NOT turning the brown that it usually does when jooheon cooks it and u settle for when the beef is a weird brown, pink, red—u dont even know what color it is but its 12:30pm and jooheons lunch break is about to start
• u shrug as u pack the lunchbox. u made cookies before this mess so
• u drive up to the building complex and climb up the stairs to his studio. u punch in the passcode and pop the door open
• jooheon hears the door click and turns around in his chair, giving u that sweet dimpled smile
• u show him the lunchbox and bag of cookies u’ve been hiding behind ur back and he opens his arms to bring u into a hug
• “how did i get so lucky?” he kisses the top of ur head and sits u down on his lap
• he turns the chair around and u place the lunchbox and the cookie bag on his desk in front of his monitor and open it
• he has to stop himself from laughing, the corners of his lips trembling to rise into a smile. u flick him on the arm, a smile growing on ur own face. “shut up i tried my best!!!!!”
• jooheon kisses ur temple, a small chuckle leaving his lips still dumbfounded by the mess of food in the lunchbox
• “i made cookies?” u suggest
• “yea we can share those” jooheon closes the lunchbox


• u guys ate out at this one restaurant that had really good pork stir fry
• so naturally u two went to the internet and searched up recipes to cook at home, inspired by the dish
• after finding a seemingly easy recipe online, u and changkyun head to the kitchen and grab whatevers in ur fridge
• oh by the way its 1 in the morning so theres no supermarkets still open
• it sounded like a good idea at the time
• anyways u two are jus rummaging through ur kitchen, substituting whatever needs to be substituted
• “hey kyun we’re outta sugar”
• “we have lucky charms”
• “that works”
• u and him lay out the shabby ingredients on the counter
• pork? eh leftover hot wings should do
• bok choy? iceberg lettuce thats been sitting in ur fridge for 3 months
• but at least u have soy sauce
• u start choppin up the lettuce, slicin and dicin and ignoring whatever wilted leaves u see bc hey food is food
• changkyun: hey how do i start the stove
• “…….ur kidding right”
• u put down ur knife and walk to the stove, hesitant to turn any knobs
• “um its this one right?”
• u switch on the stove on the inner right corner which seemed fine to u…….until the roll of napkins next to it caught fire
• the fire alarm starts beeping and u freak out and start blowing on it until changkyun shoves his hand into ur face. “DONT BLOW ON IT ITLL GET BIGGER”
• luckily ur dating the son of a scientist so he grabs a pot lid from the cabinet underneath and throws it on top of the fire, stopping the flow of oxygen and u hear the sizzle of ur bounty napkins
• u and changkyun breathe out a relieved sigh and u lean on him
• u suggest making cookies tomorrow and changkyun insists on putting lucky charms in them
• u roll ur eyes, “yea yea whatever lets clean up and go to bed”

Wyndham Estates

Title: Wyndham Estates

Link: AO3

Square filled: Neighbors

Ship:  Sam Winchester x Female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  nsfw, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (male receiving)

Summary: Sam is your neighbor and he’s good at fixing things (of course), so you ask him to take a look at your leaky faucet. This is an AU.

Word Count:  2669

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Author’s Notes: Written for @spnkinkbingo. I know nothing about plumbing or fixing a leaky faucet, so all handyman inaccuracies are mine. Thank you to @climbthatmooselikeatree for her work as beta.

Originally posted by samgirlsclub

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anonymous asked:

🔥🔥🔥🔥 The Anon thrusted inside Kitty, with every move going deeper. He spread his legs wider, one hand pushing Kitty's knee highier and another slidind across his chest, not reaching his erection quite yet. 'My little slut... '

The kitten hybrid mewled rocking back against him. He felt so good now, not caring that he looked like a licking faucet with how much slick was leaving him, or how much precum left his dick.

stroodlenoodles  asked:

4 - sick!fic with Bruce and Dick? :)

Bruce Wayne is not a man to give up without a fight.

Not as Batman, not in his personal life, and, to be frank, he’d do an awful lot to avoid the polite, cutting remarks of an angry Alfred Pennyworth.

In spite of his best efforts, he’d found himself bedridden by an almighty cold. And it’s been two days. Red-rimmed eyes, sunken cheeks, lethargy, pulsing headache, scratchy throat. A constantly dripping nose. The whole shebang.

He consoles himself with the fact that this cold, this cold, could bring the goddamned Superman to his knees. And then he sneezes again, his ribcage and his sinuses on fire, and is beyond consolation.

It is dark and he is… not sulking. He is something manlier than sulking. Brooding, maybe. Alfred says sulking, but he doesn’t know anything about keeping a city safe by himself. Alfred thinks the whole crusade is stupid. But it’s not his business, and Bruce can do what he wants.

He rolls over, in his stifling, sweat-soaked sheets, and his everything aches. He wonders if he can survive the trip down to the kitchen’s medicine cabinet, for another dose of those terrible cold suppressors. If the night air doesn’t kill him, it’ll probably be Alfred’s shotgun. 

He grumbles, a little, and rolls onto his other side–

–and comes face-to-face with a tiny, tear-streaked boy.

“Dick?” he rasps, and the eight (“and a half,”) year old boy nods, scrubbing at one of his cheeks with his pyjama sleeve. “Nightmare?”

“Yuh-huh,” he mumbles, tearful, and holds his arms out entreatingly to Bruce.

“Okay, chum,” Bruce sighs, and manages to get himself upright. He carefully stands, waits for the world to right itself, and takes a few steps toward the bathroom. He remembers, just barely, to stop. Hold out his hand.

And one of the things Alfred hadn’t warned him about, when he decided Dick would be his ward, was that children are always sticky. At this point it’s not so much a surprise, when Dick slides his tiny, sticky hand into Bruce’s much larger one, but it was a very rude shock in the beginning. 

Bruce had barely managed to stop himself from demanding, of the tiny boy, what on earth he was doing, to be so consistently, inconceivably sticky. But he’d refrained.

Half-trotting behind him, almost at his side, Dick clings and follows him to the master en suite. He flips the light on, too-bright for the middle of the night, and winces at his reflection in the mirror. He looks like a corpse. 

Ignoring that, he runs the faucet, waiting for it to warm up. Then he wets a face-towel, half-wrings it out, and, leaning on the doorframe, squats down to Dick’s level. Balanced precariously on the balls of his feet.

“You know you’re safe,” he murmurs, gently mopping up tear-tracks and snot. 

“I know,” Dick agrees, waveringly, reflexively leaning away from the cloth. 

“And you’ll always have a home here.”

“Mhm,” he says, nodding, while a few fresh tears fall. But he already seems better, his pink face already returning to its usual colour. “You look scary,” he tells Bruce, with the sincerity only someone under ten can offer.

“I do,” he concedes. “I’ll shave tomorrow.” And then, starting to smile to himself, he pokes Dick once in the stomach; “You aren’t scared though, right?”

“Nope,” Dick says, actually starting to giggle a little. 

Bruce wipes over his face once more to be sure, then tosses the face-towel into the sink. He stands back up, legs already shaky, and rests one hand on Dick’s messy hair. Dick grips the hem of his pyjama shirt, and lets Bruce lead them back to the bedroom proper.

He leaves the bathroom light on, though, because be can recall very clearly the feeling of being small and afraid and in the dark. And he knows what a difference a single rectangle of light can mean.

Ruffling the hair under his fingers, Bruce says, “You ready to go back to your room?”

In the faint light from the bathroom, he sees blue eyes look up at him, full of reproach. And fear. “Can’t I– can I stay, for a bit? Please?”

Bruce sighs, throat raw, and rubs his thumb over Dick’s temple. “You know I normally don’t mind, Dickie, but Alfred will kill me if you get sick too.”

Earnest, the boy says, “But I ate so many vegetables at dinner so I don’t get sick, B. Honest. If you shake me, vegetables’re gonna fall out!”

“As promising as that sounds–“ Bruce starts, laughing a little, “I don’t think–“

“Just a few minutes,” Dick pleads, tugging at his shirt. “I’ll go back to my room really quick, I swear.”

And Bruce, already feeling very unsteady on his feet, exhausted and ill, can just sigh. Half-sitting, half-falling back onto the bed. He tugs at his covers, trying to drag them into some rough semblance of order. “A few minutes, Dick. That’s all. You can’t fall asleep in here.”

“I won’t,” he agrees, clambering up onto the bed. Then, wriggling under the covers, he lies down carefully on Bruce’s chest.

His chest was already so heavy, but somehow, the warm weight of his ward… helps. It’s a better kind of heavy. Even though breathing is still a challenge.

But after a moment, discontent, the boy grunts, dragging Bruce’s arms up to wrap around him manually. Then, apparently happy, he gives a deep sigh and settles further against him, pressing his ear to Bruce’s heartbeat. His eyes are closed.

“You can’t fall asleep in here,” Bruce warns, again, but he’s half-asleep himself.

“I won’,” Dick promises, in a slur. Squeezes him gently.

And Bruce just sighs. Praying the vegetables do the trick. 


    Anyone interested in interacting with this potato? His name is Park Jae Sung a licensed Chemical Engineer who is the biggest JERK amongst my other muses. He possess a pride that is higher than the Eiffel towel and barbs flows out from his mouth like water from a faucet. He may look like he’s innocent but this man is anything but innocent. If you’re interested then please hitfor a short random starter from him. 

“Two Minds”

A short fic for Phanniemay Day 09 “Water” inspired by @xmamu‘s Atlantis AU, because @caffeinechick and I have spent way too much time gushing over this AU and Atlantis: TLE because we are huge nerds. 

Valerie had been on plenty of jobs where things didn’t go according to plan. It was a practical certainty. Mosul, Abydos, Tripoli, Angora, Montenegro, that four-circus disaster in Budapest; you either adapted and made the most of a bad situation, or you cut your losses and scarpered off while you still could. 

Losing three quarters of your expedition to a giant mechanical monster? She’d had worse. Trapped miles underground in some buried, beyond ancient highway? They still had food and air. Hell, it beat being in Mesopotamia with no shade. 

But this. 

She was standing in a cavern bigger than New York, hearing the roar of crystal blue waterfalls that made Niagara look like a leaky faucet.  All around her was a real, living, inhabited ruin. 

That. That was not part of the plan.

Keep reading

Unknown Route Mystic Messenger Welcome To Paradise Part XVI: Betray

Part XV | Part 15.5 Bad Ending 2 | List | Mobile List | Part XVII 


“Okay let’s go.” Melody said as she pulled Irene by the hand. “To freedom.”
I stood there looking at the sliver of hope. That was freedom and yet… 

And yet… 

A sense of fear washed over me. It started to well up inside my chest like a sink overflowing with water. We all wanted to leave Mint Eye. We all wanted to go home, to feel the breath of what was once ours. How long had it been since then? I had no concept of time anymore. 

And yet… 

I looked up at Irene who was staring blankly ahead, unaware of the risks we were taking or even what we were doing. My gaze traveled to Melody who was starting to look panicked. “Right?” She said hopeful. 

“I…can’t.” The words were out of my mouth before I could even process them. I said it again, more in curiosity if I had even said it at all. “I can’t.” 

Melody’s eyes widened. She forced herself to laugh. “What?” She snorted. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why?” The smile she was forcing dropped. 

“I just can’t. Ji Sun is-“  

“Belial?!” She scoffed. “Him!? Are you ditching our one chance of freedom for a boy?”

“No… not that’s not it.” I looked over at her. 

“Then what is?” She glared. 

I shook my head, I didn’t even know. I was suddenly very aware the dagger in my pocket. Melody walked towards me looking straight into my eyes. I had never noticed before but Melody  had this strange look in her eyes. A strange twisted, look. Deep in her eyes right into her soul there was something she was keeping locked up. Something bad. 

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Things I noticed on my TWD rewatch/general thoughts.

I feel like Negan made references to sex no less than 10 times in this episode. Titties this, vagina that.  

I counted at least 6 women in that room. I think two of those women were black and latina. Also is Sherry like his #1 or something?

Originally posted by nansgifs

Dwight is Daryl’s perpetual shadow and it’s still creepy. I hope those eggs sandwiches were worth watching your wife tongue down Negan in front of you. 

Originally posted by thedundermifflin

Father Gabriel walked his happy ass back to Alexandria so causally, w/o a gun or care in the world. He was not interested in spending a whole day listening to Spencer bitch about his new bff Rick. And this is a dude that had spent his life listening to other people’s confessions. Ha! (I caught that veiled threat too)

Originally posted by heckyeahreactiongifs

Negan’s bedroom is nicer than mine! Aesthetics galore. He has two couches, a coffee table, a four poster bed and general knickknacks hanging around. You think he decorated it or one of his wives? 

I thought that guy Spencer found hanging was fat joey but apparently not. 

Sing me a song: 

Originally posted by wwinterweb

The skin peeling…

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

They made Daryl clean up that dude’s pee. And they are making him serve cheese and grape platters and shit. He’s basically the butler and housekeeping at this point.

Did that guy hang himself or did someone else? Either way they/he went to a lot of trouble to get that dude up so high, they even have a little perch up on the tree, which is weird.

Another crossbow found! First Daryl, then Dwight and now Spencer. There can only be one.

Originally posted by skelos

Ugh! Again with the Latin. If that guy did kill himself and left that note, that has to be one of the most pretentious suicide notes ever.  

Negan has a daily planner. You think he penciled Mark’s punishment in for that day? 

Originally posted by melancholic-wallflower

What the fuck Jesus? Like how? 

I think that note was from Sherry. 

Michonne!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God, I love her. She is Queen.

Originally posted by anti-capitalistlesbianwitch

But for real tho? Y'all think Olivia was tempted for a second? LOL.

Originally posted by hideawayandhaven

Does Negan not have running water or indoor plumbing back at the sanctuary? He was looking at the faucet like it was the 1st time he ever saw one. Or was he just being an ass? It’s probably the 2nd one.

All this for just one bullet??? 

Originally posted by somekindalau

LOL. Eugene to Rosita when she was trying to apologize.

Originally posted by popculturekilledtheteenager

Do not try and make a deal Spencer, the odds are not in your favor. 

Negan deadass took off his shoes to walk all up in Rick’s house. He made himself extra comfortable. Took off his jacket, scarf, gloves. Picked up Judith and sat his ass in a rocking chair, while he waved to the neighbors. All that was missing was Michonne sitting by his other side. Poor Rick. 

Originally posted by berniceanders

But seriously, how cute is Judith? 

The look on Rick’s face when he comes back is gonna be perfect!!!

Originally posted by dancingclam-blog

Back Off

Originally posted by skatesslut

Not my gif. Credits to owner.

Pairing: Y/N & Sammy (Daddy) Wilk


Request: Yes

Words: 782

Note: Guys! It´s been awhile since I wrote about Sammy. I´m happy to say I´ll write more and requests are open for anyone. Also, the warning include “Female asault” and just to let this clear. ITS NOT OKAY. Its never okay to be on a situation like this. So if you see it, never shut up. And get help, because we deserve better in life. 

The guy was constantly behind Y/n and I could see in her eyes how she was already tired of him.

Y/n´s boyfriend was an asshole. He treat her like shit and she deserved someone better, someone who truly loved her. Someone like me. Y/n was our best friend, we know her since we were little and she was our neighbor in Nebraska. We all moved in the beginning to Los Angeles, but she met this guy and she moved with him. He was the typical fuck boy who goes around anyone with a skirt, and now he was definitely not caring for her.

We hadn´t seen her in a while and we decided a night club would be perfect to get back in touch and just have fun. Only Nate knew how much I liked her since always and how sad I was that she was with him instead of me. He tried to always get us together, but this time everything went wrong. She took his boyfriend with her because he made her a “jealousy scene” and he totally ruin our night alone with her, MY night alone with her.

She looked beautiful on the denim black dress she was wearing. Her hair looked perfectly on a bun and her smile was such an amazing accesory. We always kinda treated her like a treasure and more like a sister and we really didn’t try moves on her. Well, they didn’t, I tried once or twice to made a move on her but she never realized how in love I was with her.

She went to dance with John and while she was dancing, some dude was all over her and he kept glancing at her all the time. Her boyfriend went to talk with other girls and he didn’t see anything.

Y/n´s eyes begged for help and I started walking her way. Nate grabbed by the arm and stopped my walking. I looked at him a little disconcerted, why he was acting like this?

“Is not your problem Sam. She has a boyfriend and he can take care of her.” He looked disappointed of himself but he continued nodding. “Go look for a girl, or someone you can spend night with.” He pushed me with an impulse the contrary side of Y/n but I couldn´t help to look for her. I couldn´t find her desperate look anymore. I looked at the guys friends and they were laughing but unfortunately he wasn’t with them. I got worried and walk to the opposite side of the club searching for any of them. I passed next to her boyfriend who was flirting with some girls and I smirked. I hated him. I continued walking.

“Sammy! Help!” Someone shouted and I followed that scream. It was Y/n.

I got out through a door and I found this dude touching all over her and she was crying. She tried to pull him away but he kept touching her legs.

Back off, dude!” I came and punched him making y/n to stand behind me. Then he was bleeding and so drunk than he finally left.

Once he was gone, Y/n hugged me. I pulled her closer and made her feel comfortable in my chest while she continued sobbing.

“Baby girl, everything is fine. I’m here now.” She looked at me with her eyes like an open faucet. Her makeup was all ruined but she looked beautiful anyways.

“Thank you. Sammy, I love you.”

“I love you too, and I should have told you before and this wouldn’t have happened.”

“What do- you mean?”

“I love you since the minute I saw you, since we were in Nebraska. And I couldn’t find the way to tell you, but I fucking love you y/n.” I said while cupping her face with my hands. “I just didn’t want to tell you and made you feel uncomfortable- I messed up everything just like always.”

“No, Sammy- you didn’t. I actually love you too. And I thought you didn’t love me in that way and that’s why I dated every single dude I found, because I was afraid you rejected me…”

I put my finger on her lips just to kiss her seconds later of observing her face in the darkness. The moon was shining a little and the background music in the club was perfect. Some cheesy slow song to fit with our kiss. I grabbed her by the waist while she put her hands around my neck. I heard the door open and we smile between kisses. We know who was, but we didn’t care.

“Dude, I’m pretty sure I told you to meet another girl- not y/n… but whatever…”

too good

(this is the first piece of writing ive ever written so its bad but i wanted to put it somewhere sorry)

His eyes reminded her of the ripples in the water, pupils big and innocent looking into hers at first, then shrinking into small dots, barely visible in the dark green surrounding them. She sat upon his jean clad thighs, his hand gripping her hips like he was almost going to drop her, delicate but secure, keeping her squirming body covered in just his iron maiden t shirt and white boy shorts still on his lap.

He swore he would never let this happen. He would never allow himself to get attached to something so addictive, something he couldn’t have with him at all times when he needed it.

She allowed him to roam his hands down the curve of her hips, over the soft skin of her thighs and to her hands resting there to bring them to his belt. The red haired boy licked his lips as he nodded her along, trying to build the little amount of confidence she had in her body. He was already growing hard under her small hands fiddling with the metal buckle, and god, they barely did anything yet.

She finally got the buckle undone, the rhythm of her beating heart reminded her of their favourite song, which resulted in a light but contagious smile and made her heart flutter even more when she looked up to see Michael grinning back at her.

She climbed off his legs for a moment as he pushed the jeans down his thighs and threw them to the floor, making a light clink noise as they hit the wood. He wanted to take it slow with her, seeing as this was her first time even getting intimate with anyone, let alone giving a hand job. She crawled back onto his lap and Michael pulled her into a soft kiss, putting his hands around the sides of her neck and feeling the pulse in her veins.

He pulled back to swipe his thumb across her bottom lip, then lightly pushed his index and middle fingers between her teeth. “Fuck.” he breathed out quietly, indulging the sight of her soft tongue swirling around his fingers. “Y'know you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna. I can just get you off if you feel more comfortable doing that.”

She shook her head lightly as she released his tattooed fingers, falling to her thighs once again. He let out a sigh as her fingers went to the waist band of his black briefs, peeling them down just enough to let him out.

Her eyes widened for a moment at the sight of his hard cock pressed against his soft tummy, reaching her hand out to run her fingers along the veins running up his shaft. “You’re too fucking good for me. Too good for me.” Michael mumbled while running his hand up her soft thighs once again.

Her eyes blinked up to him, almost like permission to touch, and he took her small hand in his to wrap around his shaft. “Is this okay?” She said, barely audible. “Anything you do will feel fucking amazing. Don’t worry ‘bout that” And it was true. She could touch him in any way possible, not even sexually, and he would fall apart at her finger tips. She makes any action she does so sweet in contrast to his rough and needy touch.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she moved her hand up to the head and back down to his balls, seeing a small bead of cum leak out the tip. Her curiosity got to her as she moved a finger to swipe the head of his cock, and brought it up to her tongue to taste. “Oh my fucking God. Who woulda thought you had a little cum slut inside you.” Michael mumbled the last sentence, not sure if she was ready to hear such filthy words slip from his lips.

She shifted so her thighs were only around one of his thighs, and wrapped her hand back around him. His fingernails dug into her thighs as she kept moving her hands up and down his shaft, causing his to moan out into the cold air of the night that filled the room.

Michael was too caught up in feeling her innocent little hand do such filthy things to him, that he barely noticed her start to grind her hips along his thigh. His mouth fell open as he watched her manage to jerk him off, all while making herself feel good at he same time. Her eyes were closed as she let out a small whine, making Michael slide his hand up to her hips and dig his fingers into them.

“Mmm-holy shit,. tha-at feels so fucking good angel” he groaned out as the pace on his cock got faster, almost in sync with her hips against his thigh. The whines coming out of her mouth from the friction from his thigh could make him cum right there, but he instead decided to move her hand away from his flushed cock.

Her eyes opened back up to meet his, a confused glint in her eye. “Fuck it” he huffed as he gripped her hips again, slowly pulling her towards him on his leg. “Does this feel good, kitten? Did it feel good rubbing your pretty little pussy against my thigh while you jerked me off?” Her mouth fell agape and held onto his fore arms, glancing down at his painfully hard shaft, then back up to his moss green eyes.

“Answer me.” She licked her lips. “Mhm”. Michael’s hand gripped her chin, bringing her lips close against his. “Use your words, baby.” His words were soft, and made her eyelids fluttered. “Felt really good, Michael.” He let go of her chin, once again grabbing her hips and moving her back and forth on his thigh.

Michael didn’t even care about the amount of attention his cock was craving at the moment. All he cared about was watching his pure little girl get herself off on his thigh while wearing just his shirt and hearing the small whimpers and moans slip out of her pink lips like it was music to his ears.

“Michael” she whined out, gripping his arms like her life depended on it. “Yeah kitten? You gonna cum? Gonna cum on my thigh like a good girl?” His dirty words flowed through her head, adding to the immense amount of pleasure spreading between her thighs. “Fuck, just watching you like this is gonna make me explode.” This encouraged her to work herself harder on him, letting out broken breaths as she started coming close to her orgasm.

His touched moved to the small of her back, leaning in to leave a sloppy kiss of her plump lips, down her neck, then leaning back down against the headboard. He could see by the look in her face she was going to cum any second now. Her mouth was lightly open, her eyebrows pushed together as her eyelashes fluttered against her full cheeks.

He took this opportunity to bounce his leg a little, making her let out a louder moan. “M’ gonna cum” Michael let out a groan as he bounces his leg harder, eager to get her off. “Open your eyes baby, look at me. Wanna see you when you cum.” Her eyes were met with his green ones as they fluttered open, her nails digging harder into his fore arms as she let out a series of broken pants and whimpers.

She could feel the rush from her head to toes, pleasure washing over her whole body as she watched Michael’s face, almost in awe. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, cum all over my thigh.” His hand moved down to stroke her thighs as she came down from her high, then pulled her into him trying to calm her shaking body.

“You were so good kitten. How’d that feel, hm?” He lifted her face from him chest to meet his, staring into her doe eyes. “Felt really good. Thank you Mikey.” Her thanks to him made him giggle, but soon faded as he remembered his cock was still extremely hard. She soon caught on as well, heart fluttering when she looked down at his shaft leaking like a faucet. “I can take care of this by myself it you wa-” “No, I want to.” She interrupted, a little louder than she planned out.

He let out a hum as he moved farther up the headboard, allowing her to straddle his thighs once again. Michael watched her as she wrapped her small hand back around his cock, then looking back at his eyes and leaving a small kiss on his lips.

“This probably won’t take long baby. Watching you use me to make yourself cum almost put me over the edge by itself.” Her cheeks tinted a darker shade of red than they already were, and proceeded to move her fist up and down his shaft.

It took everything in Michaels will to not grab her by the hair, push her mouth on him and fuck her pretty lips. He would save that for another day. Michael moaned and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” She quickened the pace of her wrist as he whined out, seeing that he was so close to cumming for her.

She examined his face as she got him closer to the edge, how his mouth was open and a lot wider than how hers was, to how his fringe glued itself to his forehead from the sweat forming there.

“God-fuck. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum" She looked back down at his swollen shaft, then whispered “Cum Michael.” This pushed him over the edge, cumming hard as he gasped for air.

She jumped a little at the sight of the cum shooting out of the head of his cock, landing on both her thighs and shirt. She pumped him until he fluttered his eyes back to meet hers again, out of breath and slightly smiling.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard in my fucking life.” Her mouth turned into a smile as they both giggled, and he tucked his softening cock back into his underwear.

Her eyes drifted down to her bare thighs, observing the white substance dotted across them. Michael’s eyes followed, taking his finger to gather some of the cum, and brought his finger into her mouth to suck the remains off.

Her eyes closed and he groaned at the sight. “How about we clean you up, hm?” She nodded, Michael then crawling off the bed into the washroom to grab a wet wash cloth. He came back into his room to find her lying on the sheets making his heart pound.

She was fucking ravishing. He wishes he could leave her like that, covered in him cum and slightly sweaty from their earlier activities. He got on his knees beside her and began to wipe her legs down, along with removing the dirty shirt she was wearing.

She sat up with her legs tucked into her chest as he went over to his dresser to fetch one of his fresher t shirts, the Weezer one, which is her favourite. After getting the shirt over her smaller body, he pulled her under the sheets with his, her being positioned just so she can hear Michael’s heart beat.

His hand went into her hair as he let out a sigh, exhausted and content. “You’re too good for me. Too fucking good.”

thanks for the submission!! feel free to submit anything anytime you want! xo 

I’ve got a heart that always lands a few cities over.
I’m trying to make a home and she
is navigating the highways back to me.
I don’t define myself by love,
but by the absence of it,
like negative space in a painting:
these are the years I pulled myself up by the roots
and those are the ones where I dug through my ribcage
into the meat of my lungs
looking for dinosaur bones.
I write my heart letters, sometimes—
long distance phone calls to my own chest
just to see if they’re treating her right.
I ask if the stars where she is
are more friendly than the unwashed dishes
in my kitchen sink:
how they’ve started to look
like a toothy skyline beneath the faucet moon.
I’ve spent years feeling like
the right person under the wrong sky,
and maybe my meandering heart has got it right.
Because I am every Sunday morning in the sun:
the sound of the coffee pot when it runs out of water.
I’ve got a love so big she goes road tripping without me.
Because my chest is the size of a medicine cabinet
with the shelves pulled out,
and my heart always finds her way back to me,
even then.
If healing means I’ve got to set my heart free, a while,
if it means I’ve got to let her see the world and come back wizened,
if it means living with my hands pressed to the place
where she used to be—
then it will be worth the day she comes home,
and I open the hinge to my chest and remember
all the faces, all the love, I have ever known.
—  Two Towns Over, by Ashe Vernon