this was a bathroom door

  • Magnus: I heard my wife knock on the bathroom door, but then I remembered…. our bathroom doesn’t have a door
  • Lucretia: I’m sorry, but the confusion of why your bathroom doesn’t have a door far outweighs any feelings of horror this might evoke.
  • Magnus: can’t afford door.. the horror here is the realities of life
  • Merle: So what fuck was your wife knocking on
  • Magnus: this dick
  • Taako: It’s not even 4 words???
BTS Reaction: He Scares You and You React by Hitting Him

Anonymous said:

“I’m always seeing they ‘How BTS reacts to scaring their S/O with a prank and making them cry’. I’m after something a little different. How would BTS react to trying to scare their fairly strong S/O with a prank, but rather than scream or cry in fear, their S/O’s instinct is to immediately punch the thing that startled them before they even realize what’s going on? Like…*jump* MWAHAH-*gets punched in the face* "OMG I’M SORRY I HIT YOU ARE YOU OKAY?!?!” That sort of deal. xD"

Haha, I love this idea. Hope you enjoy! 😘


You open the bathroom door, Jin standing right outside like a creep. You yelp and your immediate reaction is to strike out. Your knuckles connect with his cheek, hard, making his head snap back. You gasp, your hands coming up to cover your mouth in horror.

He stares at you, wide-eyed, a bruise already forming.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper from behind your hands.

“How can you bruise this handsome face?” He asks indignantly.

Your hands drop from your mouth as you scoff. You go to the kitchen for ice, but his words took away post of your pity.

Originally posted by seoulsoul7

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Felicity quietly got out of the bed, putting on a robe that was draped over the back of a chair. She looked at Oliver; he was asleep and looked peaceful. There were times not too long ago when his dreams had tortured him. In Ivy Town, and then at the Loft, he would come awake, chased out of his nightmares with a scream on his lips and sweat glistening on his body. Felicity tried to be there for him, but even when they were together (before) Oliver’s dreams were always something he had to endure alone. What he went through on the island and Hong Kong and in Russia was something Felicity knew she could not sooth away with comforting and assuring words.

She moved away from the bed and crossed over to the bathroom. The bedroom was a dark shade with small pools of cold moonlight shining a path for Felicity to follow.

Earlier in the evening, she and Oliver and William had their first official dinner together—Oliver made lobster tortellini and garlic bread. The meal felt a little awkward at first, as if they were all strangers trying to figure each other out. Felicity couldn’t help feeling it was her presence at the dinner table that made the setting uncomfortable.  Both Oliver and William seemed to be focused on the tortellini, taking quiet bites, keeping their mouths full so they wouldn’t have to make small talk with her.

In the six months since coming back from Lian Yu, Felicity tried to give Oliver the time and space he needed to not only settle in with William at the new apartment they shared, but also to establish the dynamic of being a father and a son. It has been difficult on both of them.

But it was equally hard on Felicity as well. She wanted to take her and Oliver’s relationship to the  next level. Ever since they were trapped underneath the Bunker, she finally understood why Oliver had kept vital parts of himself from her; most importantly, William. In Chase’s attempt to bury Oliver deeper into his darkness, the outcome of that maneuver backfired. It brought Oliver back to her and her to him, in a way neither of them could have foreseen. Felicity didn’t need Chase’s influence to remind her that she still and always would love Oliver.

When Samantha died, passing the parental torch onto Oliver, it shifted the relationship between Oliver and Felicity. To her relief, this new responsibility in Oliver’s life did not dredge up any of the old ghosts that used to haunt him—and her.  It was the opposite. It gave her a new and better sense of the kind of person he is; as a father, a Mayor, a hero—as well as a friend, a partner, a lover, and quite possibly someday, a husband.

Felicity entered the bathroom and was about to close the door and do her business, when  a cry came out of the darkness.

It was William. She turned and headed back into the bedroom. She was startled but not surprised by the shape of Oliver standing naked next to his side of the bed. His eyes were wide open as he responded to his son’s cry. He pulled on his sweatpants and started to go to William.

“Oliver,” Felicity interrupted his trajectory. “Let me do this.”

Oliver didn’t seem to hear her request and continued moving toward the door. Then he stopped himself and turned to look at Felicity.  “Do you…are you okay with…wouldn’t that confuse things more, for him and for you?”

“Oliver, it was your idea to have me over tonight. If I’m going to be a part…well, a part of all this, I should start earning my keep.” She saw some of the tension easing up in his shoulders.

Oliver smiled at her. “Okay Felicity, but this isn’t a job interview. You don’t have to earn anything. You are a part of this family—forever and always.”

“Thank you Oliver.” She put out a hand as if to forestall his expected response. “And you don’t have to tell me I don’t have to thank you. I’m thanking you.”

Oliver nodded. “You’re welcome. But maybe I should be thanking you.”

“What for?”

“For agreeing to this tonight. For going past you uncertainty and nervousness with William. I know how hard this has been for you.”

Felicity was about to respond by moving into Oliver’s arms when William called out again. She passed by Oliver and hurried to the door. Oliver fell in behind her and she turned back to look at him.

“Felicity,” he told her. “You got this, but I’m going as your back-up.”


Felicity slid open William’s bedroom door and went inside. Oliver hovered outside, ready to assist  her if needed. She could see her path to William’s bed by the nightlight Oliver put in the room. William was sitting up against the bed’s headboard. Fear was shining in the boy’s eyes, glistening with the tears his nightmare brought. When Felicity came into the room, William looked up and surprise crowded into his leaking eyes.

“William…” Felicity started to say.

“Where’s Oliver,” he asked her? “He usually comes in to…”

Felicity shook her head as she moved closer to the bed; then she sat down on it. “William…” Then she stopped herself. What should she say to him? Maybe she was right when she told Oliver it  might not be the right time for this. Uncertainty started to fill her intentions.

William kept staring at her as if he was waiting for her to give him all the answers.  As usual, his nightmare was about his mom. When Oliver told him she was dead, William did not believe him. He tried to run back into the smoldering forest, wanting to find her and prove that Oliver was wrong. But Oliver (his dad?) stopped him, taking William into a fumbling hug. William began screaming at him to let him go, struggling in Oliver’s grasp. But Oliver would not let him go. It was at that moment when Oliver became the “bad man” in his nightmares.

“William,” Felicity spoke with a tenderness the boy probably hadn’t felt since his mother tucked him in every night. “Please tell me what your dream was about.”

William suddenly made an unconscious connection through his fright. “You love Oliver, don’t you?”

“William…yes, I do.”

“You’re not  my mom,” William told her. “My mom is dead. And Oliver killed her.”

“William, you know that’s not true…I mean the Oliver killing you mom part. But he is your father. And you’re right—I’m not your mom.”

William shook his head. “He did kill her. She’s dead because of him.”

Felicity almost broke then. But another kind of force took hold of her instead—one of protectiveness for Oliver, and for William. She took a couple deep breaths and pressed on. “William, you dad’s mom died too, just like your mother. She was killed by another bad man, right in front of him.”

The look of accusation appeared to dim a bit when Felicity told him that. “Really,” he asked? “What…how…”

Felicity decided not to hold back. “She was stabbed with a sword.”

William’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he whispered. “Who…”

“William, it doesn’t matter now. It was four years ago and Oliver…your dad, he was really sad, like you are now.”

Fresh tears began to roll down his face. “Felicity…why did my mom have to die?”

Felicity felt her own tears start to fall. She reached out to hug William; he let her. He began to sob against her, a boy who wanted his mother back.

“William,” Felicity cried with him. “It’s alright. It’s okay to cry for your mother.”

He clutched onto her and six months of fear and sadness and loneliness poured out of him.

After a time, William pulled away from Felicity. He sat back and a different look was in his eyes now. “Felicity, did Oliver…did my dad cry too when his mom was killed?”

Felicity nodded. “Yes…in his own way, he cried.”

“Are you… are you staying with us tonight?

“Yes William, I am. Is that okay?”

William nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looked more closely at her. “Does my dad—does he love you too?”

Felicity smiled. “Yeah, I think he does.”

“Good,”  William responded. “Felicity, do you like baseball?”

Her smile widened. “I guess so. Why?”

“Well, there’s a game on tomorrow and Oliver said he would come home early and watch it with me. Do you want to watch it with us?”


Outside his son’s room, Oliver was smiling through his own tears. To hear his son open up to Felicity was…well, it was magic. Oliver felt blessed that Felicity was able to touch the purest part of him.

@it-was-a-red-heeler @almondblossomme @quiveringbunny @memcjo @mortallock @casydee @flowerandsunshine @1106angel @dmichellewrites @scu11y22

Chapter Fifty-eight

**Hey there - Okay, so this is basically unadulterated smut w a side of sap.  I needed to do it.  Hope you understand. :-)  And I hope you like it.  Thanks for reading! <3**

Michelle quietly closed the bathroom door and padded toward the bed.  Robert was still sleeping, heavily by the look of it.  She took in the lines of his broad back, pausing on the dark, little patch of fuzz dusting the lower part.  She caressed the spot, swiftly withdrawing her hand as the singer shifted.  He stilled, and she carefully slid into the sheets, continuing her tentative exploration.  His hair was fanned across the pillow, and she swept it away from his neck, revealing the tiny golden ringlets at the base of it.  She skimmed the tip of her finger across them, gracing each one with a light kiss.  She wondered how much of the night he would remember.  

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Want to design a house for your characters?

Just use the Sims. (Sims 3 in this case.) 

The house looks bland as all hell from the outside but it was supposed to be an apartment in canon so whatever works. I also didn’t bother making the beds the “right color”. Really I just wanted an overview. 

The little potted plant in front of the TV is supposed to be Seedling Morty X3 
Since I don’t have any sims living here I guess he’s the only occupant in Sims-land… (I actually did make the family in the Sims 3 but they’re currently living it up in a much larger house, cuz I really don’t like playing a large family in a tiny house… they keep arguing over who gets to use the bathroom and getting stuck in doors. Its extremely frustrating.) 

First I walk into the bathroom door because I can’t see in the dark and forgot I actually closed it

Now I try to put my milkshake powder in the fridge thinking it was the milk that I’d already put back

Can you tell my head’s in the shed today lmao

igot2ne1problems  asked:

Hanzo/Kenshi and Sinden :3c


  • -who cries when someone dies in a movie: Kenshi. Hanzo’s just facepalming. 
  • -who wears the ugly holiday garb: Kenshi, who else? XD
  • -who pays for the meals: They go Dutch.
  • -who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone: Scorp’s the door-slammer, Ken’s the musician.
  • -who brings home stray animals: Takeda. The dads don’t always approve. :P
  • -who leaves the bathroom door open: Kenshi
  • -who tells the ‘dad jokes’: Kenshi, again (just see his intros with Jacqui XD).
  • -who wants kids more: They’ve decided Takeda’s more than enough.
  • -who travels more: The one who teleports (this is also applicable to the other ship XD)
  • -who spends more cash: Kenshi, just a tad bit more.
  • -who buys the things in infomercials: I can see Ken doing this once or twice. Hanzo’s not the most patient guy at times, so he definitely says, “Not again, Kenshi … We don’t need a banana peeler …”
  • -who draws in the dust on their cars: Kenshi doesn’t drive one, and Hanzo doesn’t quite need one, but if they had a car the one doing the dust drawings would be their sonny boy Takeda. :D
  • -who starts the snowball fights: Kenshi, and he’d like to remind you that it’s TELEKINETIC snowball fights, thank you very much. ;)
  • -who throws away the directions to things: “Sento is my only guide. Perhaps you require this, Hanzo?” Hanzo rolls his eyes.
  • -who puts up holiday decor: Kenshi wants to, but Hanzo steps in everytime.  
  • -who is more likely to forget to bathe: They’re both squeaky clean.
  • -who gets more obsessed about things: Kenshi.
  • -who sings in the shower more often:  Kenshi, who’s the better singer anyway.

I think I poked way too much fun at Kenshi. :P The Sinden answers are under the cut.

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Sharing a Room

In high school, about 20 of us went to Washington, D.C.. for our senior trip. Only four guys went so we shared a small room that had a tiny bathroom attached to it. Since we were going to be there a week, I knew we’d all have to take a shit at some point. It actually happened much sooner than I thought.

10 minutes after settling in, Kevin, one of the basketball players, went into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard him unbuckling his belt and then a booming fart. I heard a few plops and 2 minutes later, he came out joking that we should’ve brought some air freshener with us.

That night, I went and it was relatively uneventful. One of the shyer guys, Tom, went in to take a shower, but I could hear his farts echoing into the bowl over the sound of the water running. I heard some loose shit fall into the bowl. Following Tom, Brandon finally had his turn and left the door open to chat while he loudly crackled into the bowl.

Throughout the rest of the week, we all just went when we had to. We all ended up seeing each other at one point or another on the toilet and none of us cared. It ended up being a great trip.

Roommates AU

In which Draco sits on the couch and Harry walks past him and Draco’s head snaps up, because he *knows* that scent. And Draco gets so P I S S E D because, “Potter! Do you have any idea how expensive that shampoo is! It’s custom-made! And here you are, wasting it on that untamable mop of yours!” Also, there’s this other minor detail. Of course, Draco couldn’t care less about it, but… now Potter doesn’t smell like Potter anymore and… wait, did he just say that out loud? Well shit!

After that, Draco gets flustered on a daily basis.

“Potter, why are you standing so close to me? We’re doing the dishes, there’s no need for your arm to touch mine.”

“Potter, if you want to read the paper, wait your turn, don’t read it over my shoulder.”

“Potter, stay on your side of the couch!”

Of course, Harry doesn’t. And eventually, Draco stops complaining. Well, he doesn’t exactly stop complaining…

“Potter, my skin is all chafed because of your stubble.”

“Potter, do it harder for Merlin’s sake!”

“Potter, what is it with you and cuddling?”

“Potter, where are you going? Take me with you?”

And they lived happily ever after.