this is not a dish towel

Something tells me that, on the off chance that Marinette and Chloe actually agree on something (gasp!) the two of them would be a force to be reckoned with. 

Two confident, no-nonsense, gives-no-shits, will-shut-you-down-in-a-heartbeat girls working together on something? They’d be unstoppable. 

Like imagine the two of them just happen to both walk by a douchey boy in their school laughing with his douchey friends about, I don’t know, posting a really rude, sexist, gross comment on a picture of one of the girls in his class. 

Marinette would straight up take this boy’s phone out of his hands, delete the comments, and just leave Chloe to drag this kid in the corner and rip him to shreds over being downright disgusting. “How dare you think you can talk to girls like that, you soggy dish towel. I have half a mind to tell Marinette over there to screenshot everything you just said and show it to everyone in school so they’ll see how much of a pig you are.”

“Way ahead of you Chloe.”

anonymous asked:

John realises how selflessly Sherlock takes care of Rosie, and it helps him realise that Sherlock is actually a person truly and completely capable of loving. Much more than any other person he has ever known.

John and Rosie have been living back at Baker Street for two months when Rosie starts crying in the middle of the day.  John is up to his elbows in soapy water at the sink, trying to clean all the dishes from the mess that was lunch, and Sherlock has been sitting at his microscope for the past hour, hardly moving, working on some experiment or another.  John knows better than to attempt to ask him to help with the dishes when he’s so engrossed.  

Rosie just sits in the middle of the sitting room, screaming.

John curses and, in his haste, he accidentally drops one of the sippy cups, successfully spilling water all over the floor.  He sighs and leans down to pick it up, chucking it back in the sink and throwing a towel down over the spill.  He’ll have to clean it up later, after he calms Rosie down.  It isn’t until he’s almost got his hands completely dry, however, that he realizes Rosie has stopped yelling.

He looks over and almost drops the towel.  Sherlock is standing by the window, Rosie curled up in his arms.  He’s got his lips pressed against her head, and he’s murmuring quiet words that John can’t hear.  Rosie hiccups and takes deep, shuddering breaths, her fists curled into Sherlock’s robe.  After a few minutes, she lays her head down on his shoulder.

John doesn’t know how long he stands there staring at them, and he can’t quite pinpoint why the image of them together like that is making his chest hurt.  He’s seen them play together in the past couple of months; he’s seen Sherlock play Rosie the violin; he’s seen Sherlock read to her.  John’s eyes slide back to the microscope at the table where Sherlock’s abandoned slides and samples sit. 

It wasn’t that he thought Sherlock was selfish enough to ignore a screaming baby in favour of his experiments.  But…Sherlock had been known to tune out almost everything when he was working.  He’d even tuned out the fire alarm once when Mrs. Hudson had accidentally set her stove on fire.  John had had to drag him out of the flat.

But somehow, at the first sign of Rosie’s distress, Sherlock had been pulled from his work.  And now, as John watches, he thinks about all of the other times Sherlock has done something like that in the past few months, smaller things that John hadn’t quite taken note of at the time.  Ignoring texts from Lestrade; coming home with new nappies when John hadn’t even realized they were almost out; emerging from his mind palace when Rosie climbed up onto the sofa with him.  Little things that seemed so small and yet weren’t.

John swallows hard, setting the rag aside, and that’s when Sherlock looks up at him, just the ghost of a smile gracing his features.  John smiles back, and his throat feels tight because Sherlock is happy like this.  He’s content with John’s child in his arms, rocking her until she’s calm, abandoning his own wants for hers.

Rosie falls asleep in Sherlock’s arms, and he takes her upstairs to put her into her crib.  When he comes back down John has made up his mind, and he’s never seen Sherlock look so shocked as when John kisses him right then and there.

a random assortment of life tips

by me, 20 year old who is so clearly great at adulting. (not really, but i’ve been living on my own for a couple years so i sorta know how this thing works.)

  1. coconut oil is the solution to everything - dry skin, frizzy/dull hair, cooking, removing makeup…everything.
  2. be nice to people working service jobs.
  3. change your pillowcases every week if you have bad acne. hell, you should change your pillowcases every week even if you don’t have bad acne.
  4. don’t put regular dish soap in the dishwasher.
  5. carry your school ID with you when shopping and always ask stores if they give student discounts.
  6. sleep naked. trust me on this.
  7. put a damp paper towel over your pizza before you reheat it in a microwave so that the crust will still be soft, not chewy.
  8. you don’t need to color sort your laundry if you put the washing machine setting on “cold”.
  9. drink a glass of cold water after a long cry - it’ll make you feel better.
  10. despite what others might say, you can be friends with your exes.
  11. make sure “find my iphone” is set up and turned on.
  12. save your loose change and deposit it into your savings account at the end of every month. over time, a little change makes a big difference.
  13. it’s okay to call your parents and ask for help. they probably know how to get that stain out or remedy a sore throat better than you do.
  14. air drying (as opposed to tumble drying) your sweaters helps the fleece inside stay soft and fuzzy longer.
  15. always double knot your running shoes.
  16. emergency sewing kit. get one.
  17. flavored condoms are for oral sex, not penetrative sex. 
  18. carry a small notebook and pen with you wherever you go. write when you feel inspired, even if no one will ever read it.
  19. never underestimate the healing power of cute animal videos on youtube.
  20. learn how to say “no”.
  21. be the kind of person you need in your life: support yourself. accept yourself. comfort yourself. love yourself.
  22. be open minded, question everything, challenge yourself, and learn to look at things from different angles.
  23. you are the most important person in your life - act like it. put yourself first.
  24. growing up isn’t about getting your shit together - it’s about learning to accept the fact that your life will never be as perfect and put together as you’d like it to be.
  25. screw the idea of “unconditional love” - it should always be conditional. your love is valuable as fuck; don’t give it to people that don’t deserve it.
  26. remember that you are under no obligation to remain the person you were yesterday. allow yourself to grow.
  27. challenge your limits, say yes to things that scare you, be open to new experiences, and live fully.

Mistletoe’s Overrated Anyway

I started writing this last Christmas. And then suddenly it was January so I decided to wait to do anything with it until this Christmas. I found it on Saturday night and forgot I hadn’t finished it. So here, have a Christmas fic! On… Boxing Day.

At least it’s not January?

Happy (belated) Christmas/Season’s Greetings, all!

Edit: Now on AO3!


Derek glances up when he hears the front door open and close, and frowns when Laura doesn’t immediately announce herself. He wipes his hands on the dish towel hanging from his belt loop and goes to investigate, finding his sister in the entryway with a stranger.

  Laura’s face lights up and she drops all of her bags, launching at him. “Derek!”

  Despite the surprise of an unannounced guest, Derek smiles and squeezes her, pressing his nose into her hair. “I didn’t think you were bringing anyone,” Derek says when they finally part.

  “I wasn’t,” Laura says. “I was lucky to even get here. All of the flights out are cancelled for the foreseeable future because of the weather, and I ran into Stiles, of all people. You remember Stiles Stilinski, right? From Cora’s class?”

  Derek remembers a hyperactive eleven year old with a buzzcut and an irritating habit of getting underfoot - his memory doesn’t lend to the lean, doe eyed brunet in his hallway; he’s talking on his phone and scowling something fierce but Derek’s mouth goes dry at the way Stiles runs long fingers through his hair.

  “Coffee?” Derek asks abruptly, turning to look at Laura. “There’s a fresh pot. Cora’s gone out on a last minute supply run - is, uh, Stiles staying?”

  “I offered your wonderful hospitality until he can find a flight to take him home,” Laura says, following him back into the kitchen and leaving Stiles in the hall. “I know you have the space, and it seemed a shame to leave him stranded. Nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” Derek points out. “How did you even recognise him? We haven’t seen him in ten years.”

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Cheesy Cauliflower Breadstcks 


  • 1 medium head cauliflower
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded, divided in half
  • ½ cup shredded parmesan cheese
  • 4-6 fresh basil leaves, finely chopped (or 1.5 tsp dried basil)
  • 2 cloves of garlic, minced (or ½ tsp garlic powder)
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano


  1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
  2. Rinse and chop cauliflower into florets.
  3. In a blender or food processor, pulse cauliflower until it has a “rice” consistency.
  4. Heat about 1 inch of water in a large saucepan until it boils.
  5. Add the cauliflower and cover with a lid. Steam for about 5 minutes and remove from heat.
  6. Drain the cauliflower in a fine mesh strainer, pressing against edges with a spatula. Let it cool for a few minutes.
  7. Place cauliflower in a clean dish towel and wring out as much excess water as possible.
  8. In a large bowl, add cauliflower, ½ cup mozzarella cheese, 1 egg, garlic, chopped basil, and oregano. Stir well.
  9. On baking sheet lined with parchment paper, use your hands to form the cauliflower mixture into a rectangle covering just about the whole pan.
  10. Bake for 30 minutes, until crust is golden brown. Remove from heat.
  11. Top crust with the rest of your mozzarella and parmesan cheese, and bake for another 7-10 minutes. (Once cheese is melted.)
  12. Remove from heat, and cut into “breadsticks” with a pizza cutter.
  13. Serve warm with marinara sauce and enjoy!
All I Wanted; C.H. 6

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 , part 5

I’ve spent the rest of my hour bickering with Calum and chugging beer after beer. I wouldn’t say I was drunk, but I already felt the alcohol coursing through my veins. I was happy, a bit light headed and I had no care in the world, exactly how I’d want to feel when I decided to have a drink.

“You ready to go?” Calum grins as he wipes his hands on one of the nearby dish towels, stepping beside me as he licks his lips. I don’t know if he is doing this on purpose, but he’s doing this to me right now. I wouldn’t want to speak of them out loud, because that would mean that I’d admit I was having the hots for him.

“Ready if you are.” I smile as I hop off of my seat, grabbing my jacket to wait by the door. Calum walks behind me to grab his own jacket off of the coat hanger and he curses loudly when he glances outside. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s my ex, on the other side of the curb.” Calum groans as his large hands rub tiredly over his face, another groan falling from his lips when he quits his rubbing.
“I don’t see the problem here.” I simply state as I gaze up at Calum, who seems to have a permanent frown etched onto his brow.

“Now that I’m single again she constantly nags me to get back together, I swear I’ve never hit a girl but with her I’m so close to –“ Calum cuts off his sentence there because his statement about this particular woman is already made.
“Well, then you’re taken until you drop me off at home.” I grin as I slide my arm around his waist, underneath his jacket and bat my eyelashes at him sweetly.

Calum chuckles but his smirk is bright and wide as he throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me impossibly closer to his warm chest.
“This is probably the easiest I’ve ever had a girlfriend.” Calum laughs and I boisterously laugh in response, right as Calum opens the front door to let us both out. Of course he’d say something like that.

“Oh, you’re such a charmer.” I slap his biceps as I step away from him, waiting for Calum to lock up and get us going. I let my gaze drop to the girl on the other side of the road again and see her talking to her friends, but still eyeing Calum as he steps next to my frame again. He’s impeccably close, right where I want him. He gazes down at me with almost a love struck grin, winks in my direction before he speaks up. I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Let’s go.” He lightly pushes me and I almost lose my balance. I feel the alcohol again and giggle softly, my hand in front of my mouth as Calum tries to steady me.

“You okay babe?” He smiles sweetly at me and throws his arm around my shoulders again as we start walking. “I might have a bit too much to drink, after all.” All the way to Calum’s car, I can feel her gaze trained on me. And that’s exactly why I snuggle further into Calum’s embrace, gaze up at his strong jawline and in a flicker of confidence, press my lips against his defined jaw.

I can see him tense, but he doesn’t say anything. All he does is grin brightly as he opens his car door for me. “After you, babe.”


“Well come on, I’ll show you the painting. I swear it’s really there!” I giggle as I step out of the car and grab a hold of the opened car door, sticking my head back in to grin at my ride home.
“You can’t be serious, Y/n.” Calum laughs as he cuts off the engine, getting out as I wait for his to catch up to me.

“Won’t your dad be horrified you’re bringing home boys at ungodly hours?” Calum jokes as he trails a bit behind, apparently reluctant to follow me inside. I turn my head as I stop at the door, unlocking it as I speak up. “Don’t worry about that, he’s on holiday. I’m home alone.”

Calum’s lips take the shape of an ‘o’ before the smirk is present once more. He follows me inside quietly and I stop in the middle of my dark hallway, Calum bumping into my back.
“Wait here.” I order him and quickly scurry across my deserted hallway to switch on the light.

“Creepy, huh? I told you, it follows you around.” Calum and I were just staring at a painting of our departed dog. My mum, when I was still a toddler, had the painting made because she thought he was such a beautiful dog. Eventually, the painting turned out pretty disturbing with its beady little eyes following your every movement when you entered the hallway.

“Why does your dad even keep it?” Calum visibly cringes as he turns away from the painting and towards me. “Because that dog used to bite my mum and he absolutely loved that dog for it.” I chuckle dryly and Calum laughs along as I walk to the door that leads into the living room. “Care for a drink? Now that you’re here anyway.” I smile and don’t wait for a response as I just disappear into the kitchen for two bottles of beer.

“Thanks babe.” Calum grins as he takes the drink out of my hand and pops the cap with his lighter, handing me the opened one while taking the other from my hands. “Well, cheers, fake girlfriend.” Calum winks before he laughs and draws a laugh from my lips as well. I watch him for a moment, the bottle pressed to his plump lips, his eyes closed as he throws his head back just the slightest. His Adam’s apple draws my attention when I see it bob as Calum swallows and I lick my lip absentmindedly. Maybe I shouldn’t be alone with him. I recollect my throughs and slowly saunter to my living room.

“I think I did a great job, if you ask me.” I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly as I drop onto the sofa, throwing my feet up on the coffee table.
“You were absolutely marvellous, even I thought it was real for a second.” I feel the blush crawl onto my cheeks as I bring the bottle back to me lips and avert my gaze.

Calum and I had spent the last hour drinking in almost complete silence, only small smiles being shared between us or me simply staring at the handsome man on the other side of my sofa. He said it might be best if he left. “I’m not letting you go; you know that right?”

“What? Why?” I think I can see a sparkle in Calum’s eyes as he tries to suppress a smirk and I roll my eyes before I answer. “You’ve been drinking; I don’t want you getting an accident on your way home. You can stay here. I’ll sleep right here.” I pat the sofa for emphasis and snuggle further underneath the small blanket I had retrieved somewhere along the night.

“I’m not staying and depriving you of a good night’s sleep, Y/n.” Calum groans, shaking his head as he pulls me up right. “Well you’re not leaving, Cal.” I know there’s a glint in my eye, a devious one at that when I innocently smile up at him. “Then we’re sleeping together,” I raise my eyebrows at his statement and he pushes me before continuing, “We’ve done it before so…”

“I guess you’re right.” I shrug my shoulders and I let my fingers enclose around Calum’s wrist, pulling him along to my bedroom on the first floor. We undress faced away from one another, before crawling into bed. I hand him my laptop so he could search for a movie on Netflix.

It’s quite awkward at first and I’m constantly holding myself back of not laying against Calum’s chest. After a while I think he realises what I’m trying to do and he lifts his arm, beckoning me over. I grin against his chest and settle, watching the laptop on his lap.

I’m drifting off into a slumber when I feel Calum shift beneath me. I can sense his warmth above my head and I keep my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, when Calum pressing his soft lips against my forehead. He keeps lingering for a few moments before his touch retreats. A smile makes its way onto my lips as I snuggle further into Calum’s chest and the world turns dark.

Let me know what you think :-)


hannibalnuxvomica  asked:

For the "ways to say I love you" prompt list! (74) “We can share.” :D

Everyone was equal. Everyone was beast and man, separated by what? An advanced brain? Opposable thumbs? The ability to be cruel and enjoy it? Hannibal had called it one of their sole traits, one that divided them from animals entirely. Animals hunted, killed only for sustenance. Humanity, however, they could make a game of it and derive such perverse pleasure from it.

“What sort of bones are rattling in your skull?”

Will blinked and found Hannibal’s eyes on him, his brow and smile wrinkled. His brown eyes lit in amusement. Will cleared his throat and wrapped his hands on the dish towel in front of him.

“Sorry, I was thinking on the fish.”

Hannibal continued to smile as if he didn’t fully believe Will, but his eyes flicked down to the trout laid on his cutting board. “It’s a beautiful catch. I’m honored to prepare it for us. Even more so that you thought of sharing it with me. You usually leave me to make the menu for dinner.”

“That’s why I brought it,” Will stared around the room. He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I was also curious about how you’d prepare it.”

The deep chuckle from the doctor brought Will’s attention back to him and he swallowed thickly.

“And how am I doing so far, Will?”

Will lowered his gaze to Hannibal’s hands. “Delicately,” he answered. Hannibal lifted his filet knife from the knife bloc held the fish down. His movements were elegant. Will would have thrown the fish down and gutted it with a hard slide through the flesh. Hannibal, though, had done the opposite. He’d been gentle in placing the fish on the wood of the board and when he fileted, the knife slide through the trout as if it was a cloud.

Blood began to pool beneath the scales and run over. “Like art,” Will whispered. Hannibal held out a hand to him. The hand that held the knife. The other suddenly longed for the bitter flavor of wine. He shook his head. “I don’t cut as precise as you. Too jerky.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Come, Will, don’t worry. I sharpen the knives myself. You just follow the inertia. I’ll show you.” Will stayed still a moment more before he flexed his fingers and moved around the island.

He took the knife.

Hannibal moved aside for him and Will looked down at the fish. Its eyes stared up at him. Suddenly Hannibal was behind him. He stiffened. “Relax, you’re not butchering a cow.” He took Will’s holding the knife. “I’ll teach you how to be ‘delicate’ and ‘artful’.”

He brought the blade back to the fish and his free hand curled on Will’s hip.

Updated Hog enclosures!

So I really want to thank @wheremyscalesslither, @amazingpetenclosures, and @properpetcare for inspiring me to go beyond the paper towel mentality that I’ve seen from breeders and even rescues in my area. I went fromtwo cohabbing BPs on repticarpet with one hide, to enriching and variable enclosures for my two hogs. Even the baby tub has good things to explore. So, without further ado:

Excuse the awful cell phone lighting. I decided last minute to get some documentation of my process. This first photo is my male Wilbur’s finished enclosure; UTH and cave on the bottom left, with a hammock and vines hanging above. Water dish, humid dig box where the aspen transitions to carefresh (aired out to reduce dust, only used since ambient humidity is very low, spot checked often). Humid cave and some paper towel tubes on the right.

I plan to add more surface cover in a few paychecks when I can get some more plants! He is very bold, though, and loves peeping out into the room.

Base layer/ratio of aspen to carefresh. His cave sits over the UTH (on a thermostat, outside tank) on the left. Substrate is a couple inches deep on both sides. 

A good climbing area with a little bit of cover - the vines were not nearly as long as I’d thought!!

Yep, totes terrestrial.

I had my baby Splendid in a bigger enclosure, but she became very stressed and did not eat despite me providing tons of cover. So for now she’s in a box-in-the-tank setup until she grows into her adult enclosure!

Finished baby tub. (again, excuse the awful flash!!) Aspen with TP rolls under it, water dish, humid hide, CareFresh with part of an egg carton buried in it. She prefers a LOT more cover so I am focusing more on burrowing than climbing opportunities for now - I barely see her!

Baby when I got her - I haven’t taken many pics in the past few months since she’s so easily startled into regurging. 

Highly Instagrammed snek-hat!!

So. Anyways. Just wanted to show off my babies a little, and thank all the wonderful people on the internets that encourage learning and growth. 

Bonus zombie boy:

“Let’s Go Away, Just Us” (Gray)

Requested by anon

Full prompt: “Let’s go away, just us, just for a night or two.” + “I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled this much.”

Originally posted by sugutie

    “Do you ever get tired of just being in Seoul?” Sunghwa asked as you handed him another dish to dry.

    “Yeah,” you said honestly after thinking about it for a few moments. “Definitely.” He always offered to let you come on tour with him, but you never accepted; you usually couldn’t get that long off work and anyway, you didn’t want to be a distraction. “Why?”

    He shrugged. “I was just thinking.” He set down his dish towel and turned to you. “Let’s go away, just us, for a night or two.”

    Your eyebrows shot up. He usually wasn’t one for making big plans; in fact he typically shied away from them. “Is that you, Sunghwa?” you joked. “Not a clone?”

    He laughed. “Yeah, it’s me. I just…” He picked up his dish towel again and kept drying. “I feel like we haven’t had much time together recently and I want to change that.”

    You smiled warmly. “I would love that.”

    “Really?” he said and you nodded enthusiastically.

    “Of course! Where do you want to go?”

    “Hmm… Wanna look at places after we finish here?”

    You jumped onto the couch, tucking your legs under you and shifting closer to Sunghwa, who had just opened his laptop. “First of all, should we stay in Korea? Or go to Japan or Hong Kong or some other country?” he asked.

   You considered. “I’m not sure… What do you think?”

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Jily Trope Fest: Doctor Potter; Patient Evans

Lily Evans was already in trouble and it wasn’t because she was in the Emergency Room for the second time in two months…it was because she’d spotted him.

A Christmas tree twinkled by the ER Check-In desk and cheery Christmas music was playing loudly over the wireless. It made the atmosphere in the room perkier, despite the fact that there was a crying girl next to Lily and a man with chicken pox only feet away. The seat Lily sat on rigidly was cold and goosebumps were displayed on her pale legs. She was wearing a velvet dress that didn’t do much in the way of warmth but she hadn’t planned on leaving her sisters house at any point that night.

At least, not until she’d sliced her arm instead of the holiday ham.

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shiphitsthefan  asked:

"I did the dishes." (Arguably one of the best sentences ever.)

It was only past eight in Wolf Trapp, Virginia, but the sun had already sunk to the west. The sky was dark and covered with millions of stars that Hannibal would have been unable to see from his home in Baltimore. That night, however, was freezing and thankfully locked far away from both him and Will.

He stepped on the wooden floors, his feet leaving damp prints. His skin was still overly warm from the shower he’d taken and he was still patting his face dry with one of Will’s towels. A towel Will was embarrassed about because it wasn’t the soft, cloud-like ones Hannibal had, but what Will perhaps did not know was that the psychiatrist and ex-surgeon could have cared less about the quality of the cloth—he could always buy Will the nicer towels. Hannibal’s concerns were miles away from the small home Will inhabited, the quality and brand of his dish and cookware. One could argue Hannibal found Will’s plaids, his lived-in couches and home quite endearing. Will’s house was full of life be it his or those of the dogs that were scattered in the living room for now. Hannibal smiled at the sight of them and the crackling fire behind the grate.

Warm silence filled with the scent of dogs and their owner.

He ran the rough towel over his bare shoulders and chest before throwing it into the laundry room and making his way through to the kitchen. His eyes immediately fell on the dish rack and empty sink. He shook his head, smiled, and then once more craned his head to the living room.

Will was laid out over the cushions of his couch, think throw curled around him when Hannibal looked down over him. His face was flush and Hannibal tutted and clicked his tongue as he walked around to Will’s other side. He placed the back of his hand on Will’s forehead.

“I thought I told you to rest,” His voice was a soft rumble as Will opened his eyes.

Hannibal picked his glasses from his nose and placed them on the coffee table.

Will rubbed his eyes, swallowed, and grimaced. His voice was hoarse when he finally answered.

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague…It was just dishes. Two bowls.”

He hated to be seen as weak. He hated owing people favors because no one was just genuinely kind anymore. Hannibal knew that and he even agreed. Even he was not without other motives for coming here, but still he looked at Will with a blank face and disbelieving eyes. “Yes, but you’ve not eaten in a day and when I arrived here, which you insisted wasn’t necessary, you were running a temperature above one-hundred and two. Your fever’s returning even now.”

Will said nothing, but his body relaxed and he sighed. He closed his eyes with resignation. Hannibal took a seat on the edge of the couch. “Is it so terrible to cared for? Worried over,” he asked. He picked up the fever reducer and shook out two pills. He handed them to Will with a glass of water. “I want you to drink all of that.”

Will sat up and held out his hand for the medicine. He downed them dry, but took a few sips of the water. “I don’t like getting sick. I don’t like taking medicine.” Even as he said this, however, he took sipping at the water once more. Hannibal could see he was trying not to gulp it down.

“You detest the vulnerability of it. You nurse back and care for your dogs because that is the role you are comfortable in. Yet, when it is you, you don’t like feeling weak, feeling as if you need someone because…that would invite…intimacy of some kind?” He took the now empty glass from Will. “You don’t owe me for coming here, Will. I’m your friend and of course when you didn’t show up for our usual dinner I became worried.”

Will took a shaky breath and Hannibal could see it all on his tongue. The admission of how hard it was to trust people, the shame of being ill when he was supposed to be out catching Jack’s Evil Minds. Will leaned his cheek into the plush of the couch. “Would a friend drive all the way from Baltimore and make me homemade soup?”

Hannibal grinned. “Would the patient feel such need to wash the dishes?”

Will slid back beneath the covers. “Thank you, Hannibal.”

“Are you warm enough?”


Hannibal stood and picked up the glass. “I’ll get you more water and then set up at your dining table to do some work. Let me know if you need anything.” He pressed his hand to Will’s hot cheeks. “Don’t play strong like this again. I care about you very much.” He whispered, unsure if Will actually heard him as he moved away.

Prompt: “Anyway, can I request a Spock x reader where Spock meets the readers parents over dinner and the readers parents are on edge about him but the reader defends him?” - Anon

Word Count: 2,016

Author’s Note: My SO is actually a Vulcan, and I received a similar reaction when I brought him to meet my parents. Fun times! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

NaNoWriMo Word Count: 10,728/50,000

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Are You Gonna Be My Dad Forever ||G-Eazy


You watched carefully from the kitchen as Gerald sat at the table with your 6 year old daughter. Gerald was watching her as she colored in her coloring book. It was crazy how much she looked like Gerald.

You were doing the dishes and getting everything ready for dinner, listening in on their conversation. 

“That looks pretty.” Gerald smiled resting his head on his hand, the other one draped over the back of the chair your little girl was sitting in. 

“I know.” You said kicking her feet back and forth. You let out a laugh as you dried the plates with a dish towel. 

“Soooo..” She started, coloring in the flowers at the bottom of the page. “Are you gonna be my dad forever?” She asked, still looking at the book. 

“What kinda question is that?” Gerald chuckled sitting up.

“I dunno, I just wanna get my stuff straight. I wanna make sure so I know, ya know?” She said looking up at him and pushing her messy hair behind her ear. 

“Of course I’m gonna be your dad forever, you weirdo.” He laughed pinching her cheek. 

“Okay good cause I really like you.” She nodded. 

“I really like you too.” He smiled. She gave him a big grin before sitting up on her knees and taking his face in her small hands. 

“I love you daddy.” She giggled, kissing his nose.

“I love you too, you butt.” He said kissing her nose too making her laugh even more. 

|Request closed| 


How to Make Cold-Brew Coffee


1 and 1/3 cups ground coffee

4 cups water (cold or room temp)

Jar or pitcher

Fine mesh strainer (or cheese cloth, clean dish towel, anything to filter out the grounds)


1. Place coffee in jar or pitcher and pour water over top.

2. Stir to combine.

3. Seal and let sit for at least 8 hours to overnight at room temperature.

4. Pour mixture over a strainer in to a bowl. Clean jar.

5. Strain a second time in to clean jar.

6. Ta-da! Cold brew coffee concentrate. 4 cups of concentrate will make about 8 cups of iced coffee. This will last up to a week in the fridge.

To serve

So, as I mentioned above, this is very concentrated coffee. You will need to dilute this to your liking. I drink it in a 2 to 1 ratio (1/3 coffee, 2/3 water) with some creamer. You could go more or less water depending on preference.

The Secretary

Synopsis: To put it simply, Negan gets a secretary.
Chapter Two: First Encounters
Characters: Negan x OC
Words: 3,025
Warnings: Nothing too crazy this chapter, just the language. Future violence, nsfw, more language, eventual smut.
Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter of this! Finally some Negan in this one! Just a reminder, my OC has never actually met Negan before. She’s been around him, but has never actually talked to him before this chapter. Also, obviously this fic will be a slow burn, but the OC will come around… probably ;)

After washing the dishes from lunch, I threw the towel in and made my way over to the Sanctuary’s main building. I had only actually been inside this building once before, but everyone knew it was the most important one in the compound. It housed Negan, his most trusted men, and his wives.

On the walk over, I noticed just how vacant the compound seemed today. After the rain this morning, the weather had turned to overcast with a drizzle here and there. I assumed that’s why it was relatively quiet out. Everyone was probably trying to stay inside.

I spotted Sherry standing outside the door to the building, clutching a small stack of papers in her arms. I prayed those weren’t waivers I needed to sign.

“Hi,” Sherry said kindly, as I approached her.

I managed to smile weakly at her. “Hey.”

“I’m relieved you didn’t bail on me.” Don’t be relieved yet, there’s still time for me to make a run for it, I wanted to say.

She handed me the stack of papers she was holding, “These are some papers on our current inventories. Simon dropped them off a little bit ago. It’s basically some updates on the inventory. You can just give them to Negan.”

I took the papers, flipping through them briefly, “Perfect.”

“Great,” She clasped her hands together, “I have somewhere I have to be, so you can go ahead inside. Negan’s quarters are all the way at the end of the main hallway. Knock before you go in, but don’t worry, he knows you’re coming.”

I nearly fell over in shock—was she serious? Did she actually think that I was going to go in there, alone? Nope, not happening.  “You’re joking right.”

“Relax Hailey, you’ll be fine.” Easy for you to say. “Now go on in.” She gave me a light shove towards the door.

“No, no, no,” I turned back around, lightly grabbing her by the arm as she tried to walk away, “Sherry please, I can’t do this.”

“C’mon Hailey,” she sighed, “I promise he’s not that bad. Just go in there, tell him who you are, hand him the papers, and wait for him to tell you what to do. Simple as that.”

I nodded. She was right. Negan couldn’t possibly be that bad. Sure, I’d witnessed him do some questionable things, but I could handle this. Yes. I could handle Negan. “Alright,” I breathed.

“Good. Go on, remember, last door at the end of the main hallway.”

I forced myself to push the door open, revealing a long hallway that stretched before me with a créme colored carpet that led the way. There were small end like tables every five feet with a vase full of freshly picked flowers, and artwork hanging directly above. I wondered who’s job it was to keep up with all of this. Everything was symmetrical and on the borderline of freakish. And then, not twenty feet from me, was the last door.

I gulped, walking forward, careful not to hurry.

I paused at the door.

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