view from the terrace

“Mother, it’s your day” - Batmom x Batfam

It’s not mother’s day where I come from, but since it is in a shitload of countries…Well, I wrote something with the batfamily about it (I wrote it in litteraly 10 minutes, writing as words came to my mind, and didn’t proof read, sorry if there’s mistakes, and if it’s meh). Hope you’ll like it, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think, feedbacks are always appreciated  :

(My masterlist blog here :


It was 6 am when they came back from patrol. As usual, they found you asleep in Bruce’s giant chair, in front of the batcomputer, waiting for them to come back. 

You would usually wake up at the sound of their arrival, however today, you were in a deep slumber…You had quite a difficult and busy week. Bruce, knowing that, stopped Damian from waking you up. 

He couldn’t blame the boy though. He was too excited…it was his first “Mother’s Day” after all. Damian annoyed his brothers all night, asking for advice about what he was suppose to do on that day, and once he understood the purpose of it, got really excited about showing you how much you meant to him…But right now, you needed your sleep. 

To be honest, they all needed sleep. It could wait a few hours. 

Raising you delicately in his arms, Bruce took you back to the master’s bedroom. You didn’t stir when he laid you in bed, and you didn’t even react to the sound of him taking a shower. When he slipped in bed, you went to snuggle against him, but he realized that it was more a reflex than you being awake, and with a small smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around you and soon, he was asleep too. 


The smell of eggs and bacon is what woke you up. And Bruce’s groans. 

You opened one eye, and then the other, slowly, sleep still fogging your vision a bit. You weren’t sure what were those four forms at the end of your bed…

-I sure hope you guys aren’t naked under the cover, cause that’s a sight I don’t wanna see right after waking up. 

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                               The Jewel Of The Danube  (Melk Abbey)

  Melk Abbey (German: Stift Melk) was originally a palace, and it shows. Located on the bank of the Danube River between Salzburg and Vienna, Melk Abbey stands crowned by towers and resplendent in a golden hue. The impressive Baroque ensemble at Melk was built in 1702-1736 by architect Jakob Prandtauer. Especially noteworthy is the church with magnificent frescoes by Johann Michael Rottmayr and the library containing countless medieval manuscripts. The monastic community of Melk is over 900 years old and black-robed Benedictine monks still stroll amidst the marble sculptures and frescoed walls. It is now also a prestigious coed monastery school with more than 700 students.The design of the present abbey ensemble (1702-36) is primarily the work of architect Jakob Prandtauer. The Marmorsaal (Marble Hall) contains pilasters coated in red marble and an allegorical painted ceiling by Paul Troger.The library rises two floors and also has a Troger ceiling, along with around 80,000 volumes of priceless works. The Kaisergang (Emperors’ Gallery) stretches for 198m (650 ft.), decorated with portraits of Austrian royalty.The highlight of the abbey, though, is certainly the Stiftskirche (Abbey Church). The church has an astonishing number of windows and is richly embellished with marble and frescoes by Johann Michael Rottmayr with help from Troger.There are fine views of the river from the abbey’s terrace, which Napoleon probably used as a lookout when he used Melk as his headquarters for his campaign against Austria.The abbey restaurant (Stiftsrestaurant Melk) located near the entrance serves hot meals and monastery wine in beautiful Baroque and outdoor surroundings.

Time for a story - Batman vs. Overwatch

Originally posted by smoakqueenz

As soon as the stretched limousine he had sent to pick her up stopped, Bruce opened the door for Felicity. He held out a hand to help her out and, though Felicity shot him a look that made him know that she was absolutely able to get out of the car herself, she did take the hand offered to her. When Bruce used the opportunity to lift her hand to his lips and kiss the knuckles as soon as she was standing, she cocked her head.

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Design Hotels: Wythe Hotel, New York

Housed in a 1901 former textile factory on the Williamsburg waterfront, Whyte Hotel is an effortlessly hip hub of Brooklyn neighborhood.

The old building has been converted into a 72-room hotel, preserving all its industrial features, such as the original exposed bricks, arched windows and cast iron columns, while a new glass and aluminum box extension, housing the hotel’s rooftop bar, has been added atop the old five-storey redbrick structure. The addition “references the hotel’s existing factory windows while dramatically pulling the building into the present”.The mix of original industrial heritage and hip modern elements is reflected even in its stylish interior design: that preserved and restored industrial character is combined with vintage and contemporary furnitures and art. Best of all the Wythe Hotel is served by Reynards, the new restaurant and bar of Andrew Tarlow, located on the ground floor; its decor is in line with the Wythe Hotel’s industrial-chic style.“The views from the 6th floor bar and terrace, and river facing rooms are incredible: an interrupted 180-degree panorama of the iconic Manhattan skyline” will seduce you and let you definitely come back there! 

If you prefer stylish design and atmosphere over plushy luxury, you’ll enjoy the vibrant Williamsburg location of Wythe Hotel, with its industrial-chic, retro-modern aesthetic.

Somebody Else

Requested by anonymous: Zico 20: “It killed me to see you with him.” Part of my prompt request series A/N: I wasn’t sure if I was going to post this. It’s been sitting for a while in my drafts and decided to say fuck it and just do it.

Originally posted by ukwno

When you share the same friends it’s inevitable that you’d run into one another again. For months you’d gone over what you would say when you saw him again. The memories of how you’d ended it lingering like a resentful nightmare, that turned acidic at its recollection.

You wondered if you would keep it casual with a simple, “Hi. How are you doing?” To pretend to ask, “What have you been up too?” and actually care to hear the answer. Instead of breaking down all over again at the sight of his face, as all the good memories were wiped away by a rough current of all the bad.

A part of you not caring while the other part of you silently cared too much. You’d never gotten answers. Just a sad look for an equally sad excuse and an apology you would never receive. His face sullen, eyes heavy in regret, maybe more for himself than for you. Wondering plenty of nights since if it’d even wounded him in any way shape or form, the way he’d wounded you.

After months passed and you’d found somebody else, he’d taken the time to ease the hurt from your chest. He allowed you to have moments of misdirected trust; waiting patiently for your insecurities to calm themselves so he could reassure you with a huge. Wiping swollen eyes with the pads of his thumbs and telling you with intent that he loved you and with time, you’d understand he was nothing like him.

A few more months passed and you were invited to a mutual friend’s engagement party. You hated the idea of being around so many people you didn’t know, more so than making sure you were dressed formally.

You’d arrived with your boyfriend; warmly greeting the newly engaged couple. Not once did your boyfriend leave your side. If he wanted to talk to someone, you went with him. His hand either securely around your waist or holding onto your hand, the both of you walking together instead of him pulling you along. It was subtle things about your relationship that soothed your soul and helped you realize you’d found better.

All that felt like a liar’s dream when you saw him enter the room. With her.

It was strange, how almost a year later seeing them together made your stomach flop. How you were suddenly holding onto your boyfriend like he was your lifeline, resting your cheek on his shoulder. It was embarrassing when he’d looked down at you, soft words of, “What’s wrong?” prompting you to answer, but you couldn’t. Your stomach was still fluttering with nausea and you felt ashamed when he looked up and saw your ex and his girlfriend exiting the elevator.

You expected a lot of things: jealousy, anger, maybe even disgust at your reaction to seeing him again. You received the opposite, however, when he wrapped his arm around you and tucked you closer to him. A comforting hand running up and down your shoulder as he kissed the top of your head. He did all this, because he understood that there was someone in this room that had promised you forever, and did everything but keep it.

“It’ll be okay, baby. I promise.”

You knew the difference between when he said it, and when your ex did. That there was more honesty and truth behind those words than the others. It still didn’t completely take the sting away at seeing him with her; holding her the way he used to hold you, but closer. Showing her off like she was a rare jewel found around nothing but coal.

A few times he’d catch your eyes lingering on the two of them and that crooked smile you used to love so much would be sent your way. It seemed like he was going to wave hello when you turned quickly away and buried yourself impossibly closer into your boyfriend. His throaty chuckle vibrating in his chest; a soothing comfort that radiated against your cheek.

The rest of the night he helped make sure you both stayed far enough away from the other couple, to not cause a seen. Your comfort was important to him. After a few glasses of champagne, you began to relax and allowed yourself to stray away from him to enjoy the amazing view of Seoul from the terrace. You took in the peaceful atmosphere not noticing when someone stepped out to join you.

It was still so odd how you could no longer be together, but still knew it was him who’d come to stand beside you. How his right hip always cocked out the most when he stood still; longer fingers fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt.

You weren’t a hundred percent sure you wanted to acknowledge him when he spoke. His voice still as deep, but childlike as you could remember it. As if you’d just woken up beside him and all the past was a horrible dream, but it wasn’t a dream. He’d gone and found someone else that was perfect for him while you were still an, “Us.” He’d cradled someone else’s face and kissed her with purpose like he’d used to do with you.

He’d been your everything and you’d been his nothing.

“It killed me to see you with him.”

For the first time in over a year you acknowledged Jiho’s presence. He was always handsome, and tonight was no exception. A high-collared tailored white shirt keeping all his tattoos hidden from view and tucked neatly into charcoal slacks. He looked how you used to envision he would on your wedding day.

At the mention of your boyfriend, you found your eyes averting away from him, and finding the man himself laughing at someone’s joke. You watched how his face lit up and how he made that same face when you made a joke, even if it was awful. He loved you enough to enjoy the silliest things about you; he loved you enough to pick up the pieces Jiho broke.

You looked back at the man who’d previously held your heart and realized he’d never actually had it in the first place. A sad smile curled your lips as confusion caused his brows to furrow.

“And now you finally know how I felt,” were your final words to him as you turned on your heel and went back inside, leaving Jiho and your past behind.

Spy game - Jonathan Pine/fem!reader (The Night Manager) Smut

Originally posted by lady-hiddles

This is a birthday present for @gothams-darkest-desires (♥) who I asked to tell me what she wanted to read.

And I tag @ascoolasathestral and @amandajuly81 because I know you love Tom Hiddleston too.

Summary: You are a spy and so is Jonathan. You are targetting the same man, but not for the same mission. A confrontation is required.

Spoilers: Post - The Night Manager

Warnings: Dom/Sub, Explicit smut, Bondage, Spanking

The sun had just disappeared behind the horizon, releasing its last rays of light onto the clouds and colouring them in orange, and yellow and pink. Florence was a breathtaking city at dusk. From the rooftop terrace you had a nice view of the gorgeous sky and the Italian urban area but your attention was focused elsewhere.

Laughter was erupting from painted lips, expensive champagne coated the tongues exchanging pleasantries. False warmth, false trust, hiding underlying danger. This was your world and you knew how to slither through it. A long split cocktail dress moulded your curves perfectly, subtle make-up embellished your eyes and lips. You were surveying the guests, the waiters and the host: the Senate candidate Marcello Anconi, your mission. Yet tonight he wasn’t your target. A tall blond man was engaged in a light conversation with Anconi, who clearly appreciated his participation. Sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, expressive blue eyes, thin lips, it was very hard not to find this man attractive. Actually, he easily outshone everyone else on this terrace, from his looks, his charm and his eloquence. You needed to have a little talk with him.

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