noise box

cute things to call your violin

-screech machine
-noise box
-a 14 inch viola
-probably a literal creation of satan (see “devil’s trill sonata”)
-a really messed up guitar
-a really really messed up flute
-a waste of a perfectly good tree
-my poor, misguided child
-a mistake
-“ow my ears”
-can you please stop playing “that godawful thing”
-an instrument???
-still better than an oboe

I can’t help but notice whenever I’m writing vampires I either switch between Vlad’s hopeful righteous fury for the world he loves and wants to see do better so he’s at the forefront of modernization and social change (“Viva la revolution! oh what are you going to do, kill me? Smash the patriarchal oligarchy! It’s been hundreds of years, I can’t believe I’m still protesting this shit!),

or “Uncle” Theo’s “I have been asleep for a hundred years, why is this flat shiny box making noises, why does it have a dimension to infinite cats in it, why are they in a tube. Oh, these grains have holes in them, and they’re sweet! Yes you are right, milk does make them better. Infinite cats and no more small pox, truly humanity is amazing”.


Thank you for the love 😍😍😍 i just happy like a kids now~ whats a wonderful gift 😘 so sweet @rafflesiawinniesin @rafflesiawinniesin #sweetblessed #chocolate #sohappy #tracyleemeileng #tracylee #blissfulmoments

I’ve Got You (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: In which Eddie can’t help but try and stick up for his best friend against the bullies.

Prompt 27:  “Dont you dare touch him/her.” 

Warning(s): Almost sexual harassment?, Bullying, Angst

A/N: Thankyou for this request Anon! If you wanna ask me for prompts ask away HERE. If you want to ask an ordinary request ask HERE. The angst is strong in this one bois bc this isN’T FUN AT ALL THIS WILL JUST MADE YOU ANGRY AND SAD

Eddie flinched as Henry Bowers  slammed Richie’s smaller frame into the concrete below them, causing a loud groan to be heard. Eddie was being held captive in someone’s arms teasingly, with his arms placed behind him in an uncomfortable position so despite how much he struggled- he couldn’t do anything.

“Eds-” Richie coughed, trying to sit up- only for Henry to push his face back in the dirt.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he longed to help his friend, this time they were in trouble really bad. He squirmed more, whimpering in fear. Patrick Hockstetter held Eddie tighter, almost cutting off the blood circulation in his arms which only caused Eddie to yelp. 

“You like this, don’t you Eds?” Patrick smirked, putting emphasis on Richie’s nickname for Eddie.

Eddie cringed at the revolting tone of voice that Patrick used as he whispered into his ear, Eddie thrashed his small body around to try and get away from his regular bullies and try to somehow help Richie. Patrick pressed his taller self against Eddie’s back and held him tighter.

“You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get to just squirm away.” Patrick hissed into his ear, his chapped sinful lips grazing against Eddie’s skin.

Eddie clenched his teeth to bite back his words so that he wouldn’t make everything so much worse, he fluttered his eyes over to Richie to see that he was being beaten up bad- with his glasses thrown elsewhere. Eddie then begins to grind his clenched teeth together in anger. Richie was cowered in a small ball, covering his face from any damage by hiding it in his knees.

But when one kick was sent to Richie’s head from one of the random guys in the Bowers’ gang, thats when Eddie snapped.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Eddie’s voice cracked, his cry was a plead yet a threat at the same time.

Everyone seemed to have stopped, staring at Eddie in shock at his tone of voice. Even Richie peered blindly between his fingers with a soft look in his eyes.

Eddie was shaking with both anger and fear, feeling Patrick tighten his grip and tugging at his delicate skin caused Eddie to cry loud- a shrilling noise vibrating his voice box and rolling off his tongue. Patrick smirked, doing it harder and stretching the poor boys skin, causing a large burning sensation to take over.

Richie went to sit up and crawl over to Eddie, only for someone to stand on his back and keep him in place, causing Richie to groan weakly.

“Oh, you’ve fucked up now.” Henry hissed, walking over to Eddie with his threatening knife raising to Eddie’s cheek as he walked over and stood in front of the fragile boy.

Eddie tried to move his head back, but he only felt Patrick behind him. Either way, he was fucked with whatever way he was forced to go.

The cold metal from the knife was pressed to Eddie’s cheek, with Henry glaring with sinister eyes and staring down the small boy.

“You fuckin’ listen to me, don’t you dare talk to me like the way you fucking did. Or else I’ll fucking peel your skin off!” Patrick continued to tug on Eddie’s skin whilst Henry screamed in poor Eddie’s face, “Y-..You fucking got that? Tell me you fucking heard me.”

Eddie whimpered, looking away and not speaking a word as fear took over, with of course the threat and the knife against his skin getting to his emotions. He was too weak to do anything in this situation, he was young and small.

After a few seconds of silence, Henry’s eyes narrowed before a blob of saliva was spat into Eddie’s face, causing Eddie to feel horror seethe within him.

“Do you like that? Huh? You love germs, don’tcha?” Henry teased, shoving him back and raised his muddy hand and wiped the saliva all over poor Eddie’s face.

Eddie shut his mouth and eyes, screaming eternally and holding back tears at the thought of all the germs and diseases that could be held within his saliva and the mud that had been smeared on his face from his disgusting skin.

Patrick laughed, holding Eddie in place before licking over his ear, causing Eddie to make an audible gag. 

Richie’s eyes were wide as he was watching the scene with horror, protectiveness reckoning within him. Richie tried to push the guy on top of him away, thrashing around helplessly. The guy went by the name Belch, Richie had so heard.

“Hey, get the fuck off me before you-”

Belch glared down at the boy, before grabbing him by his dark brown roots and slamming his head into the floor over and over again. Richie felt a buzz in his head, everything slowly blurring out as his forehead begun to pulse with immense pain. Everything was fading and all he could feel was how he was helpless to do anything with his muscles aching all over.

Eddie had his eyes open in the slightest as he saw that blood was trickling down Richie’s lips from one of his nostrils and he sobbed out in fear for his friend and himself, bracing for only the worst to come.

“Whats going on here?”

Suddenly, everything stopped. Eddie fully opened his eyes to barely see due to the saliva coating his eyelashes which only made his stomach churn. But from what he could make out, he could see a cop car which had appeared to startle all the bullies.

Henry stared at his father, his eyes narrowing for a moment.

“We were just playing.” Henry hissed out between his teeth, giving Eddie a ‘playful’ shove with a lot of force. 

Patrick too, moved away without even noticing the dark red marks that coated Eddie’s pale skin. Victor backed off from the scene a bit and Belch stepped off from Richie and left his head be. 

A silent conversation was shared between the father and son before they scrambled off, the reason being unknown to Richie and Eddie. The cop however didn’t even check upon the two battered boys, but instead drove away without a car in the world. 

Eddie felt his knees weak as he rushed over to Richie, kneeling beside his laid body and turning him over and staring down at the swollen face of Richie Kozier. Richie had a dark black eye and a busted lip, as well as a popped nose. All three making it look as if he had been thrown down a hill.

“Richie? Oh fuck- oh shit, you look terrible, do you need medicine or something-”

“Eds, maybe we shouldn’t have called them pussies.. and said that they wouldn’t do shit to us..” Richie whispered with a lazy smile.

Eddie chuckled sadly, using his own shirt to wipe away Richie’s blood despite his lingering thoughts of diseases and sickness’ possibilities with the situation and ignoring the saliva that coated his face which still disgusted him to this moment. The mud on his face had only stuck to his pores and already started to clog them up.

“I’ve got you, shut up.” Eddie whispered, sighing to himself.

Richie raised one of his hands, with his head in Eddie’s lap, wiping away some of the saliva on Eddie’s face and his other hand soothingly rubbing at the burns that had been given to Eddie’s arms.

“I’ve got you too, Eds.”

Best Mission Ever

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Request:Could you do a smut or normal but with make out for Peter Parker where him and the reader both get stuck in the storage facility and have to pass the time just like in the movie? But instead of webbing walls and jump roping with a web, they have fun with each other ;) I love your writing btw #blessyou- anon

word count: 2469

Warnings: SMUT

Note: I decided to change a bit how they got into the trailer with the alien tech for it to make sense in the fic? but everything else is pretty much the same. ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST? (kinda) SMUT SO GO EASY ON ME ALSO I’M KINDA EMBARRASSED? but anyways hope you guys enjoy!


Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

Peter was glad he got to go to the Academic Decathlon team, and so was Y/n, however they were for completely different reasons. Peter was really close to discovering who was robbing the alien tech and selling it back, he just needed to follow his tracker and everything would be okay.

Y/n was just happy that her boyfriend was reintegrating himself into school activities. With all his spidey action he barely had time for himself and the things he used to enjoy. Besides, a couple stolen kisses in hotel rooms wouldn’t hurt anybody, right?

They both had been studying non stop, trying to get as many practice as possible before the decathlon, until Peter claimed he needed a rest.

“I’m just getting really tired”

The girl smiled as she slid closer to Peter, playing with his hair and holding him close.

“Maybe we could go upstairs? We haven’t been alone in a while Pete.”

He knew what she meant, and there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to go upstair and kiss his girl all night, making her body shake under him, but he had to go.

He stood up before the girl got any closer, sending and apologetic smile at her.

“I know love, but I gotta go -uhh- take a shower, I’m really tired”

The girl frowned as she saw her boyfriend getting out of the room, leaving her hanging. Had he just rejected her? He only did that when he had superhero duties but-they weren’t in Queens; maybe he really was tired.

She decided to head to her room as well and give some time to the boy. She hanged with Liz until she suggested they got into the pool.

“Go tell Peter and Ned and I’ll tell Michelle and Flash”

“Be right back”

Y/n made her way to the boy’s room, but as she was turning down the corner she spotted Ned and Peter talking outside the door.

“You can’t go Peter! What if something happens to you!”

“Nothing will happen! I’ll be back before the decathlon”

“But what if you’re not? Does Y/n knows? What am I supposed to tell her?”

“Just tell her I had a migraine and falled asleep, I gotta go- see you!”

Peter went on the other direction running, as Ned watched him go, still outside their room. Now or never, she thought. She might as well confront Ned already.

“Hey Ned!”

The boy jumped in surprise as he saw her approaching, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Hey Y/n! Waddup!”

“Hey we are going all to the pool, wanna join us?”

“Sure, I’ll be down in a sec”

“Great, I’ll come inside to tell Peter”

She tried to grab to the doorknob, however Ned stopped her, getting in the way and blocking completely the entrance.

“You can’t go inside”

“Why not? He’s my boyfriend”

“Well, he’s just- uhh- sleeping”

“Well, I’ll just check on him, he said he was feeling bad earlier”

“No!- You can’t go inside”

“Why don’t you want me inside? What are you doing in there?”

“Im- uhh- watching porn”

The girl definitely stepped back as she heard his confession. Ned was a really dedicated friend or a very honest person. Either way, she didn’t need that much information

“Well, I’ll-ummm- leave you to it, we’ll be in the pool when you’re- finished”

If that wasn’t a sign that they were hiding something she didn’t knew what was. She decided to go in the same direction as Peter’s, and maybe try to spy on him. She hurried along the way until she spotted a blur of red and blue getting above the rooftop of a trailer. She took a cab and asked him to follow it, driving for almost 2 hours, until it finally made a stop.

She paid and got out of the cab, approaching the trailer Peter had just gotten into. She found the boy had left the door open, getting inside as quietly as she could.

They boy was looking around the place, looking for something, until he finally spinned around and saw her.

He took off his mask as his eyes grew wider in surprise. “Y/n! Why-What- What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question”

The boy tried to think of a response until he heard a noise from above the top of the trailer. Shit Shit Shit! The bird dude had arrived.

“I’ll explain later okay just- hide for now”

She did as instructed and hided behind a big box,hoping she wouldn’t get discovered by whoever was getting in, but mostly worried about Peter’s safety. She waited, trying to get a peek at what was happening behind the boxes.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna need you to give back those things” Really Peter? Way to talk during a possible fight

“Get out of my way or you’ll get hurt

“The only person getting hurt-”

The next thing she heard  was a loud noise as a couple boxes and things falled down, probably from a struggle. She couldn’t hear Peter anymore, and neither could she hear the other person. She waited a couple minutes in silence until she finally stepped out, finding some empty boxes and Peter’s body, unconscious in the floor.

She went straight to him, trying to wake him up, with no luck. He wasn’t responding to anything she did, and she was getting scared. He still had a steady pulse, so that calmed her a little bit.

After a while of waiting the trailer got moving again, trapping her and Peter inside. She didn’t even had her phone! She could not believe her luck.

She placed her boyfriends head on her lap and slowly falled asleep, while still stroking his hair.

Peter was the first one to wake up, standing up and realising what had happened, the trailer had stopped moving.He went next to his girlfriend and cupped her face, trying to get her to wake up.

“Love, wake up”

Y/n slowly opened her eyes, remembering what had happened last night.

“Peter! Are you alright?-What happened yesterday? Who was that and why- Oh my god the decathlon! What time is it?”

“Calm down Y/n, we need to find a way out of here first, then everything else okay?”

She nodded as she stood up. The moved together a couple boxes blocking the door and prepared to push it open. They tried a couple times until it finally set them free, at last from the trailer, since they were now in a big room full of other like that one.

“Where are we?”

“It’s a storage, they keep all the alien crap I told you about here”

“So, we are basically in the most guarded place on earth, how are we getting out?!”

“We should try to look for any escape? Come with me, we’ll shot at the door to see if it opens, or at least sets and alarm”

They tried to push, punch and move all the walls they could, however nothing they did helped. It was useless. They had been trying for what felt like hours, although it had probably been 20 minutes.

“Peter let’s just- stop. Someone will have to come here someday- and then we’ll get out”

“But it could be like- hours until that happens! I’m bored Y/n- I’m sorry you’re in this mess with me”

“At least we’re together, that’s all that matters”. She approached her boyfriend and stood close to him, cupping his face with her hands. “Besides, times flies by when you’re busy”

Peter looked at her in surprise as he recognized the tone in her voice. She looked kinda messy, with her wrinkled clothes and tangled hair, but she had a hungry look in her eyes that made him want her even more.

He decided to play along as he said “You’ve got any ideas to keep us busy, love?”

She leaned in once again, looking him in the eye and smirking. “I’ve got a couple”

Right after this she pushed him against the wall behind the trailer, staying hidden. She kissed him hard and sloppy as she pulled his hair, trying to get as closer to each other as they could.

Peter grabbed her neck, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue on her mouth, making the girl moan. They continued kissing and biting, until Peter rolled over and this time he pinned the girl against the wall.

“Hands up babygirl”

Y/n held her hands up high as Peter went for her neck, barely brushing his lips against it until he reached her sweet spot. He went ahead and started licking and sucking into it, leaving marks all over the place. He grabbed her hips, keeping her still, but closer to him than before.

He continued kissing her neck and under her jaw, all the way to her collarbone, making the girl shiver at the contact, until he moved his hands under her shirt, stroking her abdomen.

Peter grabbed the shirt and pulled from the bottom, stripping her out of it, leaving her in her bra.

“Wearing my favorite pair I see uh?”

“I- uhh- I wanted to surprise you”

She blushed as she remembered how she was planning on kicking Ned out and spending the night with Peter.

“How exactly were you going to surprise me? Tell me about it”

The boy went back to her neck as she slowly unmade the clasp of her bra and threw it aside as he stroke her left nipple.


“Tell me”

The girl was enjoying the sensation too much, and was barely able to form any thoughts, let alone sentences, but she managed.

“I was going to- get up in your room and kiss you- so hard, slow- I would touch and kiss all your body- i wanted to- get on my knees and suck you off, make you feel so good Pete”

The boy kept on stroking it as he licked the other nipple, pushin his hard on against the girl, who moaned at the contact of his dick against her.

“You feel that baby? All your dirty talk got me feeling this way”

The girl wanted to put her hands down and pull Peters hair again, even remove the stupid suit getting on their ways. She looked at Peter’s eyes, asking for permission before he put her hands down himself.

“I know you want to touch darling”

She quickly made her way to the suit’s button, stripping him down and finally touching Peter’s chest, sliding her hands to the waistband of his boxers.

“Peter, please, let me make you feel good”

She got on her knees and locked at Peter once again, before he nodded and slipped the boxers off himself.

The girl grabbed his dick on her hand, getting it a little wet before slowly stroking it, like she knew Peter liked. They boy in front of him was a mess by such a little touch, whimpering as she slid the tip of his cock onto her mouth.

She tried to take as much of him as she could, and once she was full she started bobbing her head forward, sucking and licking.Peter kept making needy voices as his hips thrusted on her mouth, pulling her hair. Her hand was good on the base, tight and warm, while she came back up to his head, tonguing at his cum.

“Look at me”

She glanced back at Peter as she kept on sucking him, sending him over the edge. She swallowed as he came, letting her name out in a muffled moan.

“You did so good Y/n”

She stood up and went to kiss him, while Peter unbuttoned her shorts and got her hand in her panties.

“It’s your turn to enjoy love”

She felt her legs shaking as he pushed his thumb against her clit, rubbing little circles. She let out a series of whimpers and started moving her hips along to him, trying to get as much friction as she could.

He moved one finger up her entrance and kept on moving his hand, while his mouth was now back to her neck and breast. She let her forehead rest on his shoulders until she felt a second finger sliding in, making her bite on him.

“Peter- faster please”

They boy did as asked and moved his hand even more, this time completely sliding of her shorts and panties.

“You ready babygirl?”

Y/n nodded as she tried to sit down, before Peter stopped her.

“No- I’m going to fuck you against the wall love, and you’re gonna take every inch of it, got it?”

She catched her breath and nodded, shaking in anticipation she placed herself against the wall.Peter went for her waist and carried her, as she held onto him with her legs and her arms.

He slid the tip on her and then completely out of nowhere, making them both moan at the contact of each other together. The girl made a whimpering noise as she started moving her hips desperately.

“Needy are we?”

“Peter-It’s been so long- please”

The boy considered teasing her a bit, but he was just as desperate as her. He hold onto the wall and her ass as he thrusted into her once again, making the girl let her head back.

They found a rhythm, going faster and faster, with a thin layer of seat covering their bodies as they tried to touch and take as much of each other as they could.

Everytime he thrusted too hard her back would slam against the wall, making her boobs bounce, inviting him to taste. He went back to rubbing her clit and biting her nipples. Y/n never wanted to stop, but she was so close, Peter was taking such good care of her she could barely hold on any longer.

“Peter-i’m gonna- I can’t wait much longer”

At her words the boy quickened his pace, thrusting faster, harder and deeper, while still rubbing her. She clenched her walls against him, making them both come together with loud moaning and fast breathing.

She finally slid her legs off Peters waist, still shaking from her orgasm as they touched their foreheads together, trying to catch their breaths.

“That was-intense”

Peter laughed as they seated down, trying to calm.

“If this is what you do in your spidey action then you should take me to your missions more often”

“Believe me, the only spidey action I got today was you”

“Well, at least I made it a little less boring, right?”

“Are you kidding? Best mission ever”

This time they both laughed and hold onto each other. They still had to wait, but at least they were no longer bored.

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“How do you feel about getting a cat?”

“A cat?” Andrew knows his tone is incredulous but even before Neil answers, he’s second-guessing himself.

On one hand, a cat is difficult to train, difficult to set boundaries with, and could end up a disaster for someone like Andrew. On the other, cats are independent creatures, don’t demand attention as much as dogs do, and wouldn’t take up too much of their time.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” says Neil, holding out the leaflet he’d picked up from a shelter that afternoon. “I just thought it could be something to consider.”

Andrew hums, takes the leaflet, and retreats to the lounge to read it. “It’s not a no,” he says.

A month later, Andrew is still undecided. He’s visited multiple shelters and spent time with the feline residents, but nothing’s clicked yet. He scrolls through pictures of people’s cats on Instagram from time to time and wonders what it would be like to own one, but it seems superficial to go out and choose one like he would a book from a store.

He’s startled from his thoughts by the sound of the door latch clicking. Neil had gone out to pick up ice cream a while ago, and Andrew was beginning to worry about it melting. He wasn’t worried about Neil, of course. He can take care of himself.

Nevertheless, Andrew jumps up from the sofa to check on him and is surprised to find him struggling with a sodden cardboard box. In fact, Neil is soaked through himself, his usually bouncy auburn curls drooping sadly and plastered to his forehead. Andrew almost reaches out to brush them aside, but is distracted by a scraping noise emerging from the box.

He narrows his eyes as Neil sets the box onto the floor and opens it. Two bedraggled cats are huddled inside, mewling pitifully. They’re caked in mud, and Andrew’s first thought is to keep them away from the furniture.

“They were hiding under the car when I got out of the store,” explains Neil, a fond smile on his face. “I think they were trying to find some warmth. I was going to take them to the vets but they were closed. I didn’t want to drop them at the shelter in the state they’re in.”

Andrew heaves the box into his own arms without a word and sets off for the bathroom, trying not to jostle the animals too much.

“They’re staying in here tonight,” he says firmly, filling the sink with tepid water and grabbing a cloth. “I’m not letting them get fleas all over the furniture. We’ll take them to the vets tomorrow.”

“Okay,” agrees Neil easily, lifting one of the cats out of the box carefully so Andrew can begin cleaning it. “Is there still some leftover chicken in the fridge? I’ll fix something up for them to eat.”

Andrew nods, distracted by the already sopping wet cat trying to wriggle away from the clean, soapy water. He huffs in a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

By the time Neil comes back, both cats are clean and shivering in a corner while Andrew attempts to coax them onto a towel. He can tell that they’re nervous, not to mention shaken from their bathing experience, so he’s trying to be mindful, but he still scowls at the soft look Neil sends him.

“Stop it,” he says, but since he’s trying not to startle the cats further it comes out too gently to be an effective warning.

Neil kneels down next to Andrew and holds out a piece of poached chicken. It’s on their contractually-binding diet plan, but Andrew tends to dump most of it in the fridge after a meal. He looks at the cats thoughtfully as they edge forwards to chew on the meat scraps.

“What if we keep them?” he asks suddenly, ignoring the way Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

There’s silence for a minute, broken only by the soft purring now emanating from the cats. Now that they’re drying, Andrew can see that one of them is fuzzy and tortoiseshell and the other is fluffier and grey. He’s sure they must have been strays for a while because even the bulk of their fur can’t hide the sharpness of their shoulders and spines as they crouch on the floor.

“I wouldn’t object,” replies Neil finally, still staring at Andrew, who reaches out slowly to let one of the cats nudge its face against his hand.

“Okay,” he says, and that’s that.

(part two)

65. “I have a secret.” and 66.“I won’t let you get hurt.”

“I have a secret,” Patton announces, and Roman glances away from the TV to look at him, mildly concerned. Patton? A secret? That’s interesting.

“And what would that be, dearheart?”

Patton glances around surreptitiously, then motions Roman closer. “Follow me.”

The two of them slip out of the living room and down to Patton’s room. Patton locks the door behind them, a flash of abnormal paranoia in his eyes, and then crouches next to his bed and reaches under it. He pulls out a large cardboard box and Roman kneels next to it, frowning.

“What,” he begins, then stops, because the box—

The box is making noise. More specifically, the box is whimpering.

“Oh no.” Patton scrambles to open the box and reaches into it, pulling out a—

A puppy.

“Patton, what on earth.”

Patton cradles the puppy to his chest, making ridiculous crooning sounds to it. It’s got short, cream-colored fur, and it squirms its chubby body unhappily against Patton until it hears him.“Shh-shh, little buddy, it’s okay, Papa’s back, you’re alright.”

The puppy’s whimpering stutters off, and it turns to nibbling on the tips of Patton’s fingers. It’s got to be one of the smallest things Roman has ever seen, and he feels a sudden flare of protectiveness in his chest. He reaches out to stroke one silky ear, and the puppy blinks sleepily at him, and Roman—

Roman is absolutely enamored.

“However did you—?”

“I found her wandering around outside,” Patton says. “I think she might have come from your realm, or—or maybe the overlap between our realms, and now I don’t know what to do but I love her, gosh darn it, and I really want to keep her but I didn’t know how to tell Logan or Virgil so I thought that maybe you would know what to do.”

“Okay,” Roman says, because it’s impossible to consider getting rid of her. (The idea makes his stomach turn, suddenly, because it would be him who had to do it—him who would have to sink his terrible claws into Thomas’ imagination and scrub this delicate creature out of it, and the thought is ignoble and abhorrent and he loathes it.)

“Okay!” Patton beams at him. “So what do we do?”

“Well, we’ll have to tell Logan and Virgil. Lo’ll know how to take care of her—she probably isn’t even old enough to eat solid food yet, my goodness. And I think—yes, I think Virgil will like her well enough. Why don’t you go and fetch them so we can all talk?”

Patton nods earnestly, then holds the puppy out to Roman. “Here. You can hold her while I go get them.”

Roman carefully takes the puppy, settling her warm weight into his lap. She looks up at him with wide blue eyes, and Roman pulls his overcoat off and tucks it in around her. “There you are,” he says, although he keeps his voice quieter than usual. “You’ve nothing to worry about now. We’ll take good care of you, and I won’t let you get hurt. I promise.”

And the puppy, as though perhaps she has understood him, curls up in his lap and allows her eyes to shut, and Roman—

Well, Roman now has one more promise to keep. But that’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. He’ll make sure of it.


“Trust me, babe.” 

Imagine Joe, your boyfriend of three years, convincing you to do an “extreme what’s in your box” challenge for his channel but there’s a surprising twist ;)

Words: 1K 

A/n: forgive any spelling and grammar errors, hope you enjoy! Comment if you liked this and would want a part two! Also how cute are those gifs!!!!!!!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hulu and Netflix both have Tumblr accounts! Do you guys think it would be worth messaging or submitting asks to the accounts asking that they pick up Pitch?

Absolutely!!! Have at it Pitches!!!

@hulu @netflix please come thruuuuu

Nice To Meet You -11-

AN: I’ve got to get better at putting these out in a timely fashion… anyway enjoy!

It was awkward riding in Bruce’s car. Aside from a rather platonic greeting he’d given you when he’d met you at the lobby, it been silence since you’d gotten in the car.  Peeking at the man from the corner of your eye, you see the same stern eyes you saw a week ago when you were at Camille’s house. It was strange to you how different they were from the slightly playful ones that he displayed whenever you usually met up.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you offer hoping that it would make him relax in some faction.

He glances over at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road, “I know.”


Its silent again for another moment.

“I don’t plan to tell anyone,” you add.

“I know.”


It’s one of the first awkward silences that you’ve had since you have been around the man, and you just aren’t sure what to say. You want to ask if he’s found out any information about Camille or any of your other missing co-workers, but mainly Camille. But is that off the table? You know his secret but does that mean it is okay to talk about it? Were you supposed to pretend that he was still just Bruce?

“I can hear you thinking,” He says with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” you shrug. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”

“Say what you want, ask what you want.”

“Are they made out of rubber?”

“What?” He asks turning to look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know, the,” you put your fingers on top of your head mimicking the pointed ears of his mask. “The thingies.”

“No,” he blinks and returns his gaze to the road.

“Why doesn’t Damian get ear thingies?”

“He doesn’t need them.”

“That seems unfair,” you say leaning back lightly. “Do you have to take medication?”

“For what?”

“You know in case the arthritis kicks in and the old man joints lock up while you’re chasing bad guys.”

“…Not for that specific reason no.”

“Is the red mask guy with you?”

“He’s,” Bruce pauses to try and find the right way to phrase it. “One of my sons, and more than a little angry with me.”

“You must have messed up big time,” you say looking out the window as the car turned down into the familiar neighborhood.

“I did,” He says gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry.”

“…Thank you.”

“Have,” you start, “Have you found anything about Camille or anyone?”

He doesn’t answer but he shakes his head and you feel your heart clench in despair.

“Do you think they’ll hurt her?”

“I can’t say,” he says with a sigh. “We haven’t found any victims, so I can’t say what the pattern of behavior is.”

“I see.”

He turns down the street and your apartment building comes into view.

“Do you hate me because I found out?”

It’s so innocently asked Bruce can feel is eyes buck in surprise. He parks across the street.

“You didn’t even call,” you say quietly, “It sounds selfish when I’m saying it out loud, but I really thought I was going to be alone in this.”

Bruce looks at you rather somberly and he notes how much smaller you seem compared to the first time he met you. He sometimes forgets that ordinary people aren’t used to dealing with such stressful situations and how much of a toll that it can take on them physically and mentally.

His eyes fall on your hands that are resting in your lap and reaches out and grabs one of them and holds it gently in his larger one. His mind quickly toys with the intimate implications of the gesture as he rubs small circles on the back of your hand. Your eyes cut to meet his rather abruptly and you stare at him curiously.

“I should have said something,” he offers. “Even if it wasn’t to talk about my other life, I should have checked on how you were feeling after your loss.”

“Don’t call it a loss,” you mutter. “Not yet. I don’t want to think about her being gone.”

“You don’t have to think of it like that. I’ll find her and the two of you can be together again and then everything will go back to normal.”

“As normal as it can be I suppose,” you say with a shrug. “Especially when the guy I’m dating runs around in a giant bat costume.”

“Yes, well there is that.”

“Why a bat? Why not ‘Moth Man’ or ‘Pterodactyl Guy’”

“Childhood Trauma,” he says.

“Oh yeah, we all have those.”

He catches your eyes looking warily at your building, “I’m not going to let you walk up alone, you know.”

“Okay,” you say with a smile.

After the both of you get out of the car and cross the street, you make the way up the stairs to your fifth-floor apartment. Bruce fallows closely behind and has to catch himself when you stop abruptly.

“I didn’t order anything,” you muse out loud.

When you move to stand directly in front of your welcome mat, he sees the small box laying gently in front of your door. Before he can caution against it, you reach down and take the box into your hand.

“It doesn’t say who it’s from,” you say looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Bruce stretches out his large hand and you carefully lay the small box onto his waiting palm. He holds it up to his ear. He can’t hear any strange noise coming from the box, and although it clearly has some weight to it, he can tell that whatever is in the box isn’t too big.

“We should go inside,” he says after examining the outside of the box for a few seconds more.

You hesitate to put your key in the lock for a moment, realizing he would be the first person besides Camille to come inside your apartment. You quickly push the nervousness from your mind and open the door.  There was no reason to think that Bruce was untrustworthy at this point, if anything he should be worried about you. You did figure out is secret identity after all.

When the door is opened he quickly ushers you inside with a hand placed on the small of your back. You go and get a pair of scissor from the kitchen to open the box, but you return to the living room you see that he is already on the couch with the box opened in front of him.

“What’s in it?” you question coming to sit next to him.

“A radio,” he mumbles.

“A radio?” You ask as you are able to get a full view of the contents. You see the small metallic device. “Camille got a radio in the mail.”


“On the phone that day,” you start. “She had to put down the phone to answer the door for the delivery person. She said someone had sent her a radio. The red man said that there was a tracker inside.”

Bruce always feels strange when a break comes in a case, and this time is no different. With the information, he’s just attained he can already feel a plan coming together in his mind, but he also realizes that if he had not come here with you today, that you could have been taken too. It’s very strange to feel relief when someone has been put in mortal danger.

“You’re going to have to pack a bag,” he says lowly. “It’s not safe here anymore, they were going to try and come for you.”

“Of course,” you say with a sigh. “I don’t have anywhere to go though, so I’ll have to find a hotel.”

You continue to mutter to yourself as you stand up and walk to the back into what Bruce assumes to be your bedroom.

He takes the opportunity to look out of the window down at the busy street as inconspicuously as he possibly can. He notes that your building seems to be heavy on foot traffic and light on security cameras. He imagines that, with your personality, that you actually like the amount of people walking constantly by, a quiet neighborhood may make you overly cautious of your surroundings. The downside is, it’s unlikely that anyone paid any attention to who delivered the package and when. Which opens the door to several different problems. If he were to take you to a hotel right now, would the people who were doing the kidnappings follow you? Were they watching right now? Keeping their eyes on the apartment, waiting for him to leave only to take you shortly after.

Leaving you alone in a hotel doesn’t seem like the safest option, especially when he knows there is a possibility that no one would be able to reach you easily depending on where you found a room.

“Hey, how much should I pack? Do you think it’ll take you long to catch these guys? What are you doing in my curtains?”

Bruce hadn’t noticed his fist clenched tightly around the rather sheer curtains nor had he noticed he’d began to tear holes in them.

“They aren’t antiques are they?”

“Why? Do they smell that bad?” You question.

“No but now that you mention it, I am getting a little eau de mothball, so when you come home you should get that taken care of.”

“Oh, so my life being put in danger has you telling better jokes, maybe I should find a murder cult, so you can become a standup comedian.”

Bruce cracks a half smile, before he slips his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I can’t tell you how long this is going to take, pack as much as you can and if you need more I can bring you back here or buy you something.”

You nod and turn to head back into your bedroom but are stop by the clearing of his throat.

“Also, don’t worry about trying to find a hotel.”

“Where am I supposed to stay, then?” You ask casting him a confused glance over your shoulder.

“With me,” he says with a shrug.

You blink at him for a minute. In normal circumstances perhaps you would have felt more apprehensive about even considering going to stay with a strange man, especially one that spends his nights running around one of the most dangerous cities in the country dressed as a bat, but you were in dire straits.

He’d likely come to the conclusion, through his ‘professional experience’, that staying in a hotel probably wouldn’t have been safe. You were inclined to agree with that thought, there were many things that could be unsafe about hotels that didn’t include the occasional bed bug or two. One thing was, if someone had followed you to the hotel and you were on a top floor, how would you escape?

It only takes a minute and a few more thoughts like that running through your head for you to nod your head in acceptance. After all, if you aren’t safe in Batman’s house, where could you be safe?


“I feel like I’m just constantly too underdressed to be a part of your life,” you say as you walk inside Wayne manor and admire the high ceilings and various decorations.

“Maybe just a little bit,” he says flashing you a charming smile.

“So, what should I do with my stuff?”

“I can take care of those, miss.”

Your eyes flash in the direction of the voice to see an older gentlemen coming toward you. You had to keep a chuckle from escaping from your lips. Of course he had a butler and of course he’s English.

“This is Alfred, he’s been with me for as long as I can remember,” Bruce introduces.

You offer your name and your hand to shake, “It’s nice to meet you Alfred. I can take care of my bags myself though, if you just show me the way.”

“Of Course, Miss.”

Bruce grabs your wrist, “Alfred will get you anything you need and help you settle in. As you can imagine I have some work to do, so I may not see you until tomorrow.”

“I understand, thanks for everything, Bruce.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

You follow Alfred up the stairs and through the halls down to what you assumed was a guest room, slightly scolding yourself for not taking the man up on his offer to help you with your bags. It felt like the two duffel bags resting on your shoulders were stuffed to the hilt with bowling balls. But despite the weight, you would be happy that you brought some of your creature comforts to make sure that you were comfortable in such a strange place. Sore arms were better than being plagued with nightmares or having a panic attack.

The butler stops in front of a rather unremarkable door and opens it.

“I hope you find yourself comfortable here, miss. When dinner is ready I will come and get you.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” you say with a smile.

He gives you a rather guarded one back and leaves with a nod of his head.

You walk into the room, flicking the lights on and closing the door behind you. Your eyes get slightly wide at the size of the room. You’re almost certain that this is one of the smaller bedrooms in the house, but it’s larger than your living room.

Eager to rid yourself of the excess weight, you place your bags on the large bed, and find yourself sitting down on the plush surface enjoying the softness.

You use your moment of relaxation to taken the design of the room. Dark wooden furniture, contrasted beautifully against the cream colored walls. There were a couple of paintings of historical figures that you couldn’t name, but they seemed to suit the room nicely. There is an armoire and a dresser. The dresser has a large television sitting on top of it, and your grateful for it. If you had to go downstairs and watch your trash television in front of people, you might not live it down.

There is a door off to the left side of the room and based on its position, you assume that it leads to a bathroom. You’d explore it later when you got ready to take your shower.

At the moment, you can feel yourself getting exhausted. Your usual after work routine rarely contained such excitement, and over the past week there wasn’t much that could get you out of bed other than your obligation to clock into work.

You lie back on the bed and feel your eyes clothes and the sweet sting of tired eyes closing clued you in to how worn-out your body actually was.

‘Maybe a cat nap wouldn’t be so bad.’ You think to yourself.

The longer that you lay there with your eyes closed the more you can feel yourself slipping into the darkness of sleep.

“So, father has decided to take in another stray, has he.”

The voice startles you and cause you to sit up on the bed in panic. Your eyes flash to the door and see the familiar form of a small boy standing at the door. ‘When did the door open?’

“Damian,” you breathe in relief.

Damian doesn’t seem to care that you are someone he knows, however. His small arms are crossed authoritatively over his chest. His green eyes regard you suspiciously. If you were younger and you were still in the phase where you believed that children were all demon spawn (a phase that had only ended a year ago and given way to slight indifference) you would have glared right back at him. However, you knew the boy was overly cautious for a reason.

“It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” you say with a pleasant smile.

He doesn’t acknowledge your greeting, “So you’ve managed to work your way into my fathers home. Perhaps your more clever than what I gave you credit for.”

You eye the boy skeptically, “Hmm, it sounds like your implying something, Damian, that’s not nice.”

“Nice?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t have to be nice to a stranger.”

“I agree with you, but we aren’t exactly strangers are we? At least acquaintances.”

“Barely, that,” he spits.

You note how deeply he’s glaring at you and its confusing, but you doubt that he would tell you why he’s so wary of you if you ask him.

“You won’t have to worry for too long Damian, I should be out of your hair in no time.”

“Not soon enough,” he mutters under his breath.

It stings a little and you try to rationalize his disdain for you with the fact that he is a child dealing with hiding a tremendous secret and deal with the fact that there was a stranger in his home. But it still hurt, how you were supposed to approach someone who wanted nothing to do with you.

If he was an adult and someone you wouldn’t have to interact with him and you wouldn’t care. Hell you might tell him to go ‘fuck himself’ but not only is he a child, he’s the child of the guy you like, and he is likely going to be crucial in finding Camille and the others.

At the same time, he reminds you so much of yourself when you were younger, you can feel the guilt pooling in your belly.

‘Should I call my mom and ask her if I was an asshole?’

“You aren’t bothering her, are you Damian?”

The new voice causes you to snap your eyes back to the door. ‘I couldn’t hear his footsteps either’

The young man that stands at the door before you almost makes you do a double take. He has the same thick black hair and blue eyes that Bruce does, and if it weren’t for the differences in his facial structure you would have probably thought that he was Bruce’s biological son.

He flashes you a charming smile, “Sorry about him, he’s a little rough around the edges.”

“I’d say its apart of his charm,” you say giving the younger boy a wink. You notice a slight red hue flare up on his cheeks as he glares at you.

“Dick Grayson,” the young man introduces himself.

You give him your name and a smile, “Nice to meet you, Dick.”

“Anyway, Alfred wanted me to tell you dinner is ready so come down to eat.”



Batman entered her apartment ten minutes ago. He’d carefully placed the radio down on the coffee table and turned the dial on and since then he’d been waiting in the window, looking for suspicious activity.

It was strange, the music coming from the tiny radio. He had shuffled through the stations looking for some sort of hidden frequency and he couldn’t find any. However, the dial on the radio began to shift back to the original station if he left the radio alone for more than thirty seconds. It seemed the radio had a penchant for 50’s doo-wop tones.

He tilted his head-in suspicion as a large white van pass slowly down the street with its bright lights on, but it simply seems to be a lost driver looking for the correct address.

An hour goes buy and nothing seems to happen, other than the radio repeating the same five songs over and over again. It was almost hypnotic.

‘Like they are priming-’




It’s a loud screech that fills the room and Bruce can feel his ears ringing at the sound. His mind goes blank for a moment, and even as the sound stops he can’t will himself to shake off the haze that’s clouding his senses.

Thirty seconds later he’s leaned against the wall catching his breath, and his sight is renewed. When he is able he makes his way toward the coffee table and hits the off switch on the radio, but that only causes the sound to start again, and this time at a higher frequency.

He’s forced to drop to his knees this time, and there is a searing pain gathering at the back of his skull. He’s lost in such a daze that he can barely hear the sound of someone’s foot bearing itself down against the door of the apartment.

The door swings open and a large hulking figure stomps in looking around the apartment for the woman that he was supposed to grab. What he finds instead is the Bat kneeling on the floor clutching at where his ears should be, in pain. He can’t help the sick grin the spreads across his face.

“Uh-Oh you aren’t supposed to be here right now,” He teases.

Large hands wrap themselves around Batman’s neck and he struggles against the weight bearing down on his chest, but the screeching in his ears made it extremely difficult to concentrate.

“I’ve got to hand it to you Batman, most people are supposed to be out like a light long before the squealing starts, but you, you’re something else.”

“And so am I!”

In an instant, the weight is pushed off of Batman’s chest. He can hear the grunting and pounding of a fight occurring, but his mind isn’t in a place where he can see straight yet.

He can hear the weight of the two figures smashing things through the apartment and he knows the entire room is going to be ruined when the two of them a through.

The cracking of wood assaults his ears followed by the sound of a groan of surrender. Boots march through the house and the lights are turned on.

He can make out the familiar brown jacket and red mask of his son, despite how blurry it is.

“Just stay down there, old man,” he comments nonchalantly as he steps over Batman to get to the coffee table. “You’re about to pass out.”

He doesn’t doubt it, majority of his body feels numb and heavy like he can’t control it. His vision starts to go black just as he hears Jason smash the radio against the table.

“Just another one I beat you to,” Jason snarks.

His comment is the last thing that Bruce hears before he completely passes out.

When he wakes up, the sun is shining into the apartment, signaling that its morning. He sits up, body aching. He nearly lets out a groan of pain when he opens his eyes and it feels like lightning flashes through his skull.

The apartment is a mess like he predicted. Her couch is flipped over, the door is hanging off of its hinges, and what’s worse is there is a large person shaped hole in one of the walls. He sighs in irritation at the sight and stands. When he does, a small piece of white paper starts to float to the ground. He catches it.

‘Next time wear Earmuffs-J’

He balls the paper up in his hand and clicks his teeth in irritation.

‘Goddamn it’

One less secret

It was Saturday. Remus was reading a book in the living room when the house became too quiet. Harry had just gotten a new broom for his eighth birthday, one of normal size, and he should be doing all sorts of damage in the house, but for some reason everything was very quiet. Sirius was in the garage, fixing something on the motorbike as he listened to a record from one of his favorite bands loudly, but there was no sign of the little marauder and Remus was starting to get restless when he heard the crash of something falling on the ground.

Dropping the book on the couch, he ran to the room he shared with Sirius and sighed relieved to see that Harry was fine. The noise came from a box that was on top of the cabinet and probably fell when the boy hit it with his broom, scattering various papers across the floor. Now the little one was sitting on the floor, with the papers around him, and he seemed very focused on something. Remus was approaching in silence, with the intention of catching Harry by surprise, but was surprised was him to see what the boy had in his hand. He held a piece of parchment, old and yellowed by time, where Remus recognized his own handwriting, somewhat blurred by the haste with which he wrote the words. Around him on the floor, there were several drawings that Sirius made at the same time when they were in school, but Remus couldn’t take his eyes off the list that Harry read so intently, for seeing it after so many years and remembering that it existed brought back a flood of memories of an era where everything was simpler.

That list contained the reasons that kept him from being happy, from giving in to what he felt for Sirius when he discovered what that horribly good feeling was. It was a list of reasons not to love Sirius, and the reasons were mostly because he was a monster, he wansn’t supposed to feel such a warming and amazingly good feeling like love. He wasn’t supposed to love such a sweet, gentle creature like that, he wouldn’t know how to hold him without hurting him, he wasn’t made to love tender and to be gentle, he had a monster inside that only knew violence and darkness, and Sirius didn’t deserve this. Sirius didn’t deserve to love a monster.
Remus wrote that list in a moment of disturbance and despair, but mostly fear. He feared that if he hurt Sirius it might kill him, and he couldn’t bare to think that. He feared that if he gave in to that feeling once he wouldn’t be capable of controlling himself, because even the monster inside him liked the idea of having his best friend all for himself. He feared because that feeling was crushing his heart, was preventing him from breathing, killing him inside out, and he liked that. He feared because Sirius was so freaking beautiful and mostly because he wasn’t afraid of Remus at all.
And at that moment, while looking at Harry sitting on the floor reading that piece of parchment, Remus feared again, because written in the end of the list with large letters, the words “You’re a werewolf” stood out from the others, seeming to mock him, and it was precisely these words that Harry was staring at with such concentration. In an impulse, Remus quickly plucked the parchment from Harry’s hands, and he looked at the foster-father with wide-eyed green eyes, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.
“You shouldn’t be messing with this.” Remus said with a touch of panic in his voice. Harry shrugged, knowing he had done it, but he couldn’t contain his curiosity, so he asked in a sweet, innocent voice:
“Is that why you have your night out?”
Remus stood still. He couldn’t even breathe. He was afraid, trembling with fear that Harry would be terrified when he found out. For seven years that fear had consumed him every day.
“Moony, what’s this?” Harry stood up. “You didn’t want to be with me and Pads?”
Lupin was not ready for these questions. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words just wouldn’t come out. They clutched at his throat, a mixture of fear and panic, stopping him from speaking. Harry knows, he knows now that I am a monster, and suddenly all his old fears had surfaced, cluttering his thoughts, and just as he thought he’d fall apart, Remus felt small arms wrap around his waist.
He blinked in confusion, realizing that his eyes were stinging with tears in fear. When did he start crying? When was the last time he cried out of fear?
He looked down and found Harry hugging him, and in a slightly choked voice Harry said,
“Don’t cry Moony, I promise I won’t mess with your stuff again, but don’t cry, please. I’m sorry!”
A wave of tenderness made Remus recoil and he took a deep breath and bent down, reaching Harry and hugging him, holding him tightly in his arms, as if he were afraid he might run away. For seven years he was running away from that moment.
"When I was little, a bad man hurt me.” He explained, speaking quietly, still holding Harry in his arms. "He did something to me.” He stopped talking for a moment and felt Harry’s arms tightening in his embrace as an incentive for him to continue. "Do you know what a werewolf is, Harry?”
Remus felt when the little boy agreed.
“That’s what the bad man did to me. He bit me and made me a werewolf.” Lupin pulled back a little, looking the boy in the eyes. “That’s why I got my night out. So I can transform myself without hurting you or Pads.”
For a moment, Remus stared at Harry’s childish face, tense and frightened, wishing it wouldn’t make him afraid of him. The man closed his eyes and felt Harry’s small hands wiping his wet cheeks. When he opened his eyes again, Harry stared at him gravely, and asked in a worried way.
“Does it hurt?”
Remus blinked, confused.
"When you transform?”
“It hurts more to think I might hurt you.” Remus admitted in a hoarse whisper.
Harry was still serious.
“You’re Moony.” He said without removing his hands from his face. "You take care of me when I get sick and tell me stories. You make Pads laugh when he’s sad and make the best chocolate cake in the world, and also lecture us, but only when we behave badly, but you never hurt” and saying that, the boy came over and gave Remus a soft kiss. "It won’t hurt anymore. I love you, Moony.”
Harry smiled and Remus literally felt as if the weight of the whole world had been lifted off his shoulders. Harry wasn’t afraid of him. The feeling of happiness in his chest was similar to what he felt the day the Marauders discovered his secret, and yet they stayed by his side. Unable to contain, Remus hugged the boy tightly again, unable to believe that all that love and all that tenderness came from such a young child, and that made him feel so happy, warm and loved inside. Remus felt at that moment that he was a father – a real father.

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