#Water-efficient faucets

[uptodatehome]

Water Conservation During Renovations: Save Water with Low-Flow Toilets & Rainwater Systems

Renovations are the perfect opportunity to update not only the aesthetics of your home but also its functionality. With growing concerns about water scarcity, homeowners are increasingly looking for ways to incorporate water-saving measures into their renovation projects. Whether you’re remodeling a bathroom, upgrading your landscape, or even revamping your entire home, focusing on water…

[blissfulbathroom]

Mastering the Art of Fixing a Dripping Faucet: Your Ultimate Guide

When it comes to dealing with the pesky nuisance of a dripping faucet, we understand your frustration. That incessant, rhythmic drip not only wastes precious water but can also disrupt your peace of mind. In this comprehensive guide, we, the experts in plumbing and household maintenance, will empower you with the knowledge and skills to fix that dripping faucet like a pro.

The Irritating Symphony of a Dripping Faucet

A dripping faucet is not just a minor annoyance; it's a hidden source of water wastage that can significantly impact your utility bills and the environment. According to the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), a single faucet dripping at a rate of one drop per second can waste over 3,000 gallons of water in a year! Moreover, the incessant sound can lead to sleepless nights and frayed nerves.

Tools of the Trade

Before we delve into the step-by-step process of fixing your dripping faucet, let's gather the essential tools and materials you'll need for this DIY plumbing endeavor. Having the right equipment on hand will make the task smoother and more efficient.

1. Adjustable Wrench

An adjustable wrench is your trusty companion for loosening and tightening various faucet components.

2. Replacement Parts

Depending on your faucet type, you may need replacement parts such as O-rings, washers, or cartridges. Make sure to identify your faucet model and purchase the necessary components.

3. Screwdrivers

Both flathead and Phillips screwdrivers are essential for removing screws and accessing hidden parts within the faucet.

4. Plumber's Tape

Also known as Teflon tape, plumber's tape is crucial for preventing leaks in threaded connections.

5. Bucket and Towels

Be prepared for some water spillage by having a bucket and towels nearby to catch and clean up any mess.

Identifying the Culprit

Understanding the anatomy of your faucet is the first step in resolving the issue. While there are various faucet types, most dripping faucets can be attributed to one of the following common culprits:

1. Worn-Out O-Rings

O-rings are small rubber gaskets that create a watertight seal within the faucet. Over time, they can deteriorate, leading to leaks.

2. Damaged Washers

Washers, located in the faucet handles, can wear down or become damaged, resulting in a constant drip.

3. Faulty Cartridge

Cartridges control the flow of water in modern faucets. If the cartridge is defective, it can cause leakage.

4. Corroded Valve Seat

A valve seat is the connection between the faucet and the spout. Corrosion in this area can lead to leaks.

The Fixing Process

Now that we've identified potential issues, it's time to roll up our sleeves and get to work. Follow these steps diligently to fix your dripping faucet:

Step 1: Turn Off the Water Supply

Before you begin, ensure that the water supply to the faucet is completely shut off. Look for shut-off valves under the sink or at the main water supply.

Step 2: Dismantle the Faucet

Using your adjustable wrench and screwdrivers, carefully dismantle the faucet. Be sure to keep track of the removed parts and their order to facilitate reassembly.

Step 3: Inspect and Replace Components

Examine the O-rings, washers, cartridge, and valve seat for signs of wear, damage, or corrosion. Replace any faulty components with the new ones you've gathered.

Step 4: Reassemble the Faucet

Reassemble the faucet in the reverse order of disassembly. Ensure that all parts fit snugly and securely.

Step 5: Turn On the Water Supply

Once the faucet is reassembled, slowly turn on the water supply to check for leaks. If there are no leaks, congratulations! You've successfully fixed your dripping faucet.

Preventative Maintenance

To avoid future faucet troubles, consider implementing regular preventative maintenance:

Periodically clean and lubricate the faucet to prevent mineral buildup.

Check for and address leaks promptly to prevent further damage.

Install water-saving aerators to reduce water wastage and save on utility bills.

By mastering these simple techniques, you can keep your faucets in optimal condition and enjoy a drip-free, peaceful home.

Conclusion

In this comprehensive guide, we've equipped you with the knowledge and skills to conquer the annoyance of a dripping faucet. By identifying the root causes and following our step-by-step fixing process, you can save water, money, and your sanity.

Looking for more tips on bathroom maintenance and fixtures? Check out these informative articles on BlissfulBathroom:

Easy Ways to Fix a Dripping Faucet: Dive deeper into faucet troubleshooting and repair techniques.

Is Your Bathroom Vanity High Quality?: Learn how to assess the quality of your bathroom vanity and make informed choices during renovations.

How to Clean Bathroom Taps: A Step-by-Step Guide: Discover a thorough guide to keeping your bathroom taps sparkling and functional.

Are Faucet Cartridges Universal?: Gain insights into faucet cartridges and whether they are interchangeable across different brands.

So, don't let that pesky drip continue to torment you. Take control and become a DIY plumbing pro. Fixing a dripping faucet is not just a household chore; it's a step towards a more sustainable and tranquil living environment.

A well-maintained faucet is a happy faucet.

[stargrltara]

RED HOOD - JASON TODD

·.✧ ✦ ✧.·

Jason Todd who’s act of love is acts of service. He lives for the saying ‘ actions speak louder than words ‘. He loves when he comes home to a warm meal cooked for him, or even when you would spontaneously help him to clean his suit after he comes back from patrol. Sometimes, he returns from his patrols late, so he would never expect you to be awake at 2AM waiting for his exhausted state. But to his surprise, you’re always awake for him. Just the simple things like waiting for him, and that small tired smile that paints across your lips; just heats up his chest, and makes little red butterflies flutter in him.

Jason Todd who hasn’t really been efficient with communication, due to past trauma, so he attempts to show his love for you with actions. Jason yearns for you, and it’s pretty obvious by the way he would sometimes lay sweet kisses on the back of your shoulder or your neck whilst your doing the dishes with him, or he’ll linger around the kitchen, slightly glaring at you whilst you cook up a perfect meal for the both of you. You’d always notice in the corner of your eye how he glared at you in awe. Though Jason tries to hide his emotions, you always see straight through his sharp eyes, and right though his mistreated soul.

Jason Todd who of course, loves you, but sometimes fucks you like he hates you. On nights that don’t really go his way; nights when he comes back with bruised knuckles and a developing black eye, he’ll walk straight into your shared bedroom. You always notice the thump of heavy footsteps arriving into your room, it awakes you. Jason never wasted any time, he immediately strips and hooks his gloved fingers around your shorts waistline and pulls them down, your panties along with it. Ramming into you mercilessly, shoving your face into the pillows below, and you’re always unethically wet; the slick noises filling the atmosphere and the dim lighting from the far billboards and city lights creating a light flare in the room. You just take it as he ignores your mumbles and cries into the pillows, instead he groans pleasurably over your words. Jason doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied, until he’s left his seed dripping out if you. You never realise when he’s done, but you always hear the sound of the shower faucet turning on.

Jason Todd who sometimes fucks you so well, he forgets about his own needs and pleasures. On nights when it’s just you two, romantic and intimate, jason loves to make his favourite girl feel good. Honestly, holding hands, mating press, peppering wet kisses trailing from your throat up to your ear and whispering sweet nothings softly. The night doesn’t end until you’ve had at least 5 orgasms, and he’s ran you a warm bath. He loves doing these things for you, treating his girl like how she deserves to be treated. You always press your head up against his chest when cuddling at nights like this, and he’d wrap his arm around you, securing you like your his prized possession.

Jason Todd who loves blowjobs. And i mean, sloppy, dirty, mouth watering, gorilla gripping, carpet clenching, eye tearing, fanny fluttering head. He’d shove your face into his cock, making sure your nose is touching his pelvis. Your hands fly up, pressing against his thighs for some sort of support as he face fucks you roughly. Your babbling noises fill the room, and as you glance up you always notice the way his eyes roll back and his head is falling back along with it. It motivates you, so you shove your head further onto his length and bring one of your palms up to massage his balls, earning the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard in you’re whole life. Hell, jason’s sure he’s never felt like that before. Jason looks down on you, it’s degrading, but you can’t deny the hot slick sticking to your panties. He’d even hold your nose and mutter, “—Go on, you can take it. I know you will.” Everything sounds a blur, and he’d pull your head back by your hair and push a finger into your mouth, widening it enough for him to spit clearly into it, using his finger tip to smother the saliva all over your lips. And by the end of it, you’re sleeping like a baby.

Jason Todd who discourages inviting you to his family gatherings. First of all, he believes you wouldn’t be able to keep up with his families drama. But second of all, he does not want you meet his older brother Dick Grayson. The boy scout, the flirt, the sexiest second most sexiest man in the world. Jason knew that if you ever met Dick, you two would get along way too well. And quite frankly, jason doesn’t like you talking to other men that aren’t him. He literally fucking despises when another man so much as looks your way, or checks you out. That’s probably why he always leaves hickeys and marks all over your body, to put on show what’s his, and will always be his.

Jason Todd who loves head scratches and massages. Hear me out, a movie is playing on the TV as you both relax on the couch; the only light reflecting off the TV and the lighting which strikes outside, rain pouring down. Hes got his head resting in your lap as he lays on the couch and you play with his hair while paying more attention to the movie than him. Nothing is more important than him. He’d push his head up into your hand, like a sleepy puppy to gesture his yearn for more as you lose your focus in scratching his scalp with your freshly manicured nails. You’d chuckle to yourself as you notice how needy he is to be in your touch. As you lightly scratch and massage his head and hair, you feel him start to relax under you. That’s when you look down and notice his pale lips slightly parted, and his eyes closed. A small smile paints on your lips when you begin to hear his quiet snores, and you lean down to lay a passionate kiss on the tip of his nose.

·.✧ ✦ ✧.·

[soulofapatrick]

Giving Into Temptations - Xaden Riorson x Female Reader

Summary: Part two of Don't Tempt Me

Warnings: Smut; P in v; cockwarming

Words: 4.6K 

Notes: I just had to make part two and it's not proofread and written after a break so sorry for any mistakes/repetition

Y/N's POV

The sound of rushing water stops, leaving only the quiet crackle of tension in the air. I hear Xaden moving in the bathroom—quick, efficient movements, the sound of his hands adjusting the faucet, testing the water. For a few long moments, I sit there, feeling the heat of my own words still lingering between us, replaying the way his body tensed, the way his breath caught when I suggested he join me. I don’t regret saying it. Not even a little. But now, with the silence stretching between us, I wonder what’s running through his mind.

Footsteps approach, heavy and deliberate, and then Xaden steps back into the room. His expression is unreadable, his golden-flecked eyes shadowed with something I can’t quite name. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me from where he stands, as if deciding whether or not to speak. Then, with a sigh that sounds like he’s battling himself, he moves toward me, reaching out.

"Come on," he says, his voice lower than usual, raspier. "Water’s ready."

He extends his hand, waiting for me to take it. I hesitate—not because I don’t want to, but because something about this moment feels different. He’s always been imposing, always carried himself with that unwavering confidence, but right now, there's something softer in the way he looks at me. Something unguarded.

I slide my hand into his, and his fingers curl around mine, firm and warm. The contrast between his calloused palm and my own sends a shiver up my spine. He doesn't say anything about it—just helps me up, steadying me as my sore muscles protest. The ache in my body is undeniable, and I probably should have been listening to Vireth when he told me to stop, but the damage is done now.

Xaden doesn’t let go as he guides me toward the bathroom, his other hand finding my waist like he’s afraid I’ll collapse again. Maybe I will. Every step reminds me how exhausted I am, how much I’ve pushed myself beyond my limits.

The warmth from the bath curls into the air as we step inside, steam clinging to my skin. It smells faintly of the lavender oil he must have added to the water—something soothing, something that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I don’t always have to fight so hard to prove I belong here.

I turn to look at him, expecting him to let go now that we’re here, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hands stay on me, lingering at my waist, fingers pressing slightly into the bare skin between my sports bra and the waistband of my underwear. His gaze drops to the bruises lining my ribs, his jaw tightening.

“You push yourself too damn hard,” he mutters, almost to himself, his voice a quiet accusation. His thumb ghosts over one of the deeper bruises, and I feel his restraint in the way he touches me—gentle, but simmering with frustration.

I don’t answer. What is there to say? He’s right, and we both know it. But I don’t regret it. I can’t afford to.

Xaden exhales sharply, shaking his head before finally—reluctantly—stepping back.

“Get in before the water gets cold,” he says, his tone gruff, but there’s an underlying softness there, something he doesn’t want me to hear.

I don’t move. Not yet. Instead, I tilt my head, watching him carefully. He meets my gaze, and for a moment, I swear I see the battle in his eyes—the war between every instinct telling him to leave, to put space between us, and the deep, undeniable pull that keeps him here, rooted to the spot.

My fingers find the hem of my sports bra, and I peel the damp fabric up over my ribs, my muscles protesting the movement. I know he’s still watching me—can feel the weight of his gaze like a brand against my skin—but I refuse to meet it. Instead, I focus on my breathing, slow and steady, as I pull the bra over my head and let it slip from my fingers onto the floor. The air against my bare skin is cool in contrast to the steam curling through the room, sending a ripple of heat down my spine that has nothing to do with the bath.

I take my time sliding my underwear down my legs, my fingers brushing against the bruises lining my hips, a reminder of how hard I pushed today. Of how hard I always push. I step out of them, standing completely bare under the dim bathroom light, knowing his gaze is still locked on me, burning.

Even without looking, I can picture the way his jaw must be clenched, how his fingers might be curled into fists at his sides as he fights every instinct screaming at him to move. To touch. To close the space between us.

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. Instead, I turn, stepping carefully into the bath, the heat of the water licking up my calves, then my thighs, until I sink beneath its welcoming warmth with a quiet sigh. The tension in my muscles loosens almost immediately, and I let my head rest against the cool porcelain edge, closing my eyes for a brief moment.

I should feel self-conscious. Exposed. But I don’t. Not really. Not when his silence is thick with something else entirely—something raw, barely restrained, and entirely too tempting.

And still, I don’t look at him.

The silence stretches between us, thick with something unspoken, something charged. My body hums with awareness, my skin prickling under the heat of both the bath and his relentless gaze. I keep my eyes closed for a beat longer than necessary, as if that will somehow lessen the intensity of the moment. It doesn’t. It only makes the tension coil tighter, thick and suffocating.

Then, finally, he speaks.

“Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

His voice is low, breathy, like the words have been torn from him against his will, and the sheer frustration laced in them is enough to make my eyes snap open.

I turn my head slowly, and—gods help me—he looks wrecked.

Xaden stands rigid, his broad shoulders stiff, every muscle wound so tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t shattered under the strain. His fists are clenched at his sides, veins pressing against the golden-toned skin of his forearms like he’s holding himself back with every ounce of control he possesses. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and his lips—his lips—are slightly parted, like he’s just realised how parched he is and that I’m the only thing that could possibly quench him.

But it’s his eyes that do me in.

Those gold-flecked onyx irises burn, searing a path over every inch of exposed skin, dark and predatory, his pupils blown wide with something dangerously close to hunger.

And then, as my gaze drops lower, I see just how much I’ve affected him.

The evidence is straining against his jeans, a prominent, undeniably enticing outline pressing against the dark fabric. My mouth goes dry. Heat pools low in my stomach, winding tightly through my limbs, and suddenly, the bath feels entirely too small, the room too hot, the air too thick to breathe.

I should say something. Should break the moment, laugh it off, defuse the impossible tension crackling between us before it ignites into something I know we won’t be able to stop.

But I don’t.

Instead, I drag my gaze back up to his, meeting his with deliberate slowness, letting him see every thought running rampant through my mind.

I raise a single brow, the ghost of a smirk playing at my lips, and that’s all it takes.

Something snaps.

Xaden curses under his breath, something low and guttural, and then he’s moving. Fast.

His hands fly to the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric barely clears his arms before he’s tossing it to the side, forgotten. My breath catches at the sight of him—of the solid planes of muscle, the ink that stretches across his arms and chest, the way his skin is already flushed like he’s been fighting this battle for far too long.

His fingers go to the buttons of his jeans, fumbling in his haste, jaw clenching as he struggles with the damn things like they’re his mortal enemy.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in my throat as he growls in frustration, finally forcing them open. But when he shoves the denim down his hips, he nearly trips over his own damn feet, his balance thrown as he kicks his shoes off at the same time.

A very undignified thud echoes through the bathroom as one shoe hits the wall.

And then—fuck.

Xaden looks up at me, half-dressed, breathless, and so fucking wrecked, and the sheer heat in his gaze burns through whatever amusement I had, replacing it with something molten.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, tension still coiling through his muscles, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something that makes my own breath stutter.

Like he’s already mine. Like he’s made peace with the fact that he’s about to break every rule he’s set for himself.

Xaden is back on his feet in seconds, the last shreds of his restraint gone. He practically rips his boxers down those thick, muscular thighs, the motion so desperate, so reckless, that the waistband almost gives out under the force.

And then—gods help me—my gaze drops.

My breath catches. My pulse stumbles.

I don’t mean to look. I don’t. But gravity itself seems to drag my gaze downward, past the hard ridges of his stomach, the sharp lines of his hip bones, to—

Oh.

Oh.

A sharp inhale gets caught in my throat, my fingers clutching the porcelain edge of the bath like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality. A slow, involuntary heat creeps up my neck, settling deep in my stomach as I try—try—to force my gaze back up. But it’s impossible.

Because fuck.

He’s big. Thick, heavy, fully erect, standing proud against his stomach. And the worst part? The moment my eyes betray me, lingering too long, a sound escapes me—a tiny, almost imperceptible hitch of breath. But it’s enough.

Xaden hears it.

I feel the shift in the air before I even meet his gaze again.

When I do, it’s devastating.

His eyes are burning, dark as molten gold, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling with a barely restrained tension that vibrates through every inch of his body. His lips part like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching me watch him, taking in every single reaction, every single thing I’m failing to hide.

And then—fuck him—his mouth curves. Just slightly. Just enough to make my pulse stumble.

He knows.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Exactly how wrecked I am.

And from that slow, wicked smirk pulling at his lips?

He’s savouring every fucking second of it.

Xaden steps forward, closing the small, agonising distance between us, and fuck. It’s right there.

My breath shudders as the heat of him seeps into the steam-heavy air, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes my pulse trip over itself. He’s so close now, towering over me, muscles taut with restraint, water-darkened strands of black hair falling across his forehead. But it’s not his face I’m struggling to focus on.

No.

It’s him. Right there. In front of my face.

And gods help me, I want to do something.

My fingers twitch against the porcelain edge of the bath, an ache settling deep in my core that has nothing to do with my exhaustion and everything to do with the way every primal, desperate part of me is screaming to reach out—to wrap my hands around him, my mouth—fuck—I don’t even care how.

As if sensing the exact second I start to spiral, Xaden exhales sharply through his nose, his fingers pressing against my shoulder. “Don’t,” he warns, voice low, tight, wrecked.

I drag my eyes up, catching the way his jaw flexes, how the veins in his forearms strain like he’s barely holding himself together.

And then, just to make absolutely sure I understand, his hand finds the curve of my neck, thumb grazing the hinge of my jaw as he leans in close enough that his breath is a ghost against my lips.

“Be a good girl and behave,” he murmurs.

Fucking bastard.

A slow, deliberate heat spreads from where his hand lingers, all the way down my spine, settling low in my stomach. My breath is shaky, uneven, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to not react—to not give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much those words affect me.

I fail. Miserably.

His smirk deepens, smug and knowing, before he nudges me forward in the water, shifting me just enough to slide in behind me.

The moment he sinks into the bath, a low groan escapes him, the sound vibrating through the space between us, sinking into my skin. Strong, calloused hands find my waist under the water, guiding me back until my spine meets the solid wall of his chest and my ass meets something very different. 

And fuck.

The heat of him, the sheer size of him, makes my entire body lock up. Every muscle goes rigid as I try to convince myself this is fine, that I can handle this without combusting on the spot.

But then his lips brush my ear.

“Relax.” His voice is pure sin, rough with restraint. “I’ve got you.”

I don’t think relaxing is an option anymore.

Not when I can feel him, hot and hard against me, pressed so intimately that my breath catches in my throat. Not when his hands, large and calloused, find my waist beneath the water, his thumbs brushing slow, burning circles into my skin.

A shiver ripples through me, and I know he feels it because his grip tightens, fingers flexing like he’s fighting every instinct to pull me closer.

“Xaden—” My voice is barely a whisper, but before I can even process what I’m trying to say, his hands begin to move.

Slow. Deliberate.

He traces the curve of my sides, trailing the bruises with a careful touch, his palms mapping every ridge, every muscle, like he’s memorising me.

Like he wants to.

And it should be soothing—it would be soothing—if it weren’t for the fact that every shift of his hands sends a fresh wave of awareness through me, heat pooling low in my stomach, turning my bones to liquid.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my breath uneven. “This isn’t fair,” I manage, trying to ignore the way my entire body reacts to his touch.

Xaden hums, the sound deep, amused, dangerous. His breath is warm against the side of my neck as he leans in, his lips barely ghosting over my skin.

“Life’s not fair, violence,” he murmurs, his voice like smoke and embers, like temptation itself. His fingers tighten at my waist, pressing me just a fraction more against him, until there’s no mistaking exactly what I’m doing to him.

A quiet, wrecked sound escapes me before I can swallow it down.

And gods.

I don’t think I want to relax anymore.

Xaden’s hands remain steady on my waist, but there’s a subtle shift in his touch. His fingers begin to move, a slow, deliberate exploration of the skin beneath his hands. The warmth of his touch sends ripples of heat over me, and it’s as though I can feel every inch of his fingers against me, the way they trail over my skin, brushing lightly against my ribs before descending lower.

His touch is careful at first, like he’s testing, sensing the boundaries I haven’t yet laid out. The water between us becomes a barrier of heat and tension, and I can feel him getting closer, his breath mingling with mine, quiet and measured.

Then, with deliberate patience, his fingers shift down to my legs, gliding along the smooth skin of my thighs. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady, not knowing whether to lean into the touch or brace myself against it.

When his hand nudges my legs apart ever so slightly, it’s a gentle but insistent movement, a tease that has my heart pounding in my chest. It’s almost as if he’s savouring the slow build-up, the way he’s tracing every line of my body with his fingertips—each touch purposeful, each stroke drawing out more of the tension that I can’t escape. 

Suddenly he’s lifting me a bit, one strong arm around my waist against. A soft sound of surprise leaving my lips when I feel the tip brushing against my soaking entrance, a soft question on his lips. I’m nodding before I realise it, gripping the arm around my waist and completely forgetting that this isn’t me. I don’t fuck for fun but Xaden sends every rule of mine out the window, especially when he’s slowly and carefully sinking me down until he’s fully sheafed inside me. 

My head falls back onto Xaden’s shoulders he hands go back to exploring my body but all I can focus on is the delicious stretch of him, the tip feeling like it’s pressing against my cervix. No-one has stretched me this much and it’s almost too much to handle and Xaden can tell, the way the rough pads of his fingers run over where we’re connected. His lips brushing my neck, biting down and littering my skin with hickeys that I am in no way going to be able to cover up tomorrow. 

I’m opening my mouth to speak but he silences me by circling my clit, a smirk pressing into my jaw as he continues to roll lazy circles over my clit, my walls fluttering around his girth filling me up. I can already tell I’m not going to last long with the mixture of stimulation and I’m gripping Xaden’s arm that is paying attention to that bundle of nerves as my thighs clench together. He’s moving his lips from my jaw to my ear, murmuring, “Come for me baby.”

Those words plus one more tight circle on my clit has my aching back arching, drawing Xaden even deeper than I thought possible and my walls are clamping down around him, feeling hi twitch inside me as waves of bliss roll over me. I can feel Xaden rocking his hips up ever so slightly and before I know what’s happening he’s sinking his teeth into my shoulder and his dick is throbbing, filling me up with rope after rope until I feel it dripping down into the water and he’s letting out a low groan of pleasure. 

His breath is ragged against my ear, each inhale a sharp, uneven sound that mirrors the frantic rhythm of my own. His body is still pressed tightly against mine, and I can feel the heat of him seeping through the water, the warmth of his chest against my back as his arms tighten around me.

"Fuck..." he breathes, his voice strained, rough with the effort to regain control. It's low, almost a growl, but the vulnerability in it—how breathless he sounds—has my heart hammering in my chest. The intimacy of the moment makes my head spin, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck, needing the coolness of his skin to steady myself.

Every part of me feels alive, humming with the aftershocks of what we've shared. My lungs are still struggling to keep up, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. I close my eyes, trying to slow the frantic pace of my breathing, but with Xaden so close, the air feels thick, charged with a quiet tension that doesn't seem to want to fade.

His lips brush against my neck, a soft, breathless kiss that sends a shiver racing down my spine, and his hand, still resting on my hip, flexes slightly. "Take it slow," he murmurs, his voice low and raw, like he's trying to soothe me, but I know it’s just as much for himself.

I want to say something, to break the silence, but every word feels heavy, every sound trapped somewhere deep in my chest, caught between us like the air we share. His presence, the heat of him, the way he's holding me so close—it’s all too much, too overwhelming in the best way possible.

And as I try to regain my breath, the world outside seems to disappear, leaving only the two of us, tangled in the aftermath.

The warm water, the steady rhythm of Xaden’s breathing, and the weight of his body against mine have me feeling utterly relaxed, more than I’ve ever felt before. My muscles, still sore from training, are languid and loose, and I can feel myself beginning to drift, the world around me fading into a haze of warmth and comfort.

I try to fight it, to stay awake, but my eyelids are heavy, and the rhythmic pulse of the water, the sound of Xaden’s heartbeat, and his steady presence make it hard to keep my thoughts straight. Everything in me is exhausted—physically, emotionally. I feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, and it’s like a lullaby, pulling me deeper into sleep.

The gentle pressure of his hand on my hip only makes it worse, a soothing presence that makes me feel safe and cherished, like I could stay here forever. I let out a soft sigh, nestling further into him, too tired to do anything but let myself be held.

But then, I feel him shift, his hand nudging me gently as the cold begins to settle in, and I realise the water has started to cool. A part of me knows I should get up, but my body protests every movement, too spent to function properly. The weariness pulls at me, a fog I can’t shake.

"Come on," his voice is soft but insistent, the edge of concern threading through the words. "We need to get out before we both freeze."

I barely manage to lift my head from his chest, my eyes half-lidded as I try to push myself up, but the effort is too much. My body feels like lead, and the warmth of the bath is so comforting, I can’t seem to summon the energy to do anything but slump back into him with a soft groan of frustration.

I hear him curse softly under his breath, and before I can protest, his arms shift around me. In one smooth motion, he’s standing, lifting me with ease. I’m held against him, wrapped in his strong arms, and I’m so out of it, so weak from everything we’ve just shared, that I don’t even think to object. I rest my head against his chest again, too tired to fight it, and just let him carry me.

He moves with surprising grace, effortlessly holding me as though I weigh nothing at all. His body is warm, and I can feel the solid strength of him beneath me as he carries me out of the bath, stepping carefully through the bathroom and towards the bed. The movement causes a slight shiver to roll through me, but I barely register it, too lost in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

The cold air that hits my skin as he pulls me from the bath is a shock, but it’s quickly replaced with the warmth of his hands as he gently helps me sit up. His touch is careful, almost reverent, as he grabs a towel and begins drying me off, his hands moving slowly over my skin, taking extra care around the sore muscles from training. The friction of the towel feels comforting against my damp skin, like he’s erasing the tension that’s settled in my body.

Every pass of the towel makes me feel lighter, his movements deliberate, yet tender. He’s so close, I can feel his breath against my skin, and I can’t help but be hyper-aware of every little sensation, every brush of his fingers. He finishes drying my legs and feet, then wraps the towel around my shoulders, pulling me into a standing position for just a moment. The dizziness that tries to creep up on me from being so relaxed is immediately washed away by the firm grip of his hands, steady and sure.

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me for a moment, his gaze steady and warm, before picking out one of his oversized shirts from the pile of clothes he keeps by the door. It’s big enough to drown me, but he’s surprisingly gentle as he slides it over my head, the fabric billowing over my frame like a soft cloud. When the shirt falls to my knees, he gives a satisfied nod, his hand lingering on my arm for just a second before he guides me back to the bed.

I’m so exhausted, every inch of my body heavy with fatigue, that I barely manage to crawl into the bed, curling under the thick covers as Xaden moves to the side. But I can’t stop watching him, my eyes half-lidded as he dries himself off with a towel, the water dripping down his chest in rivulets. His muscles flex as he works, and I feel my breath catch in my throat as I take in every inch of him—his broad shoulders, the tautness of his abdomen, the way his hands move over his body with practiced ease.

He doesn’t seem to care about modesty, or maybe he simply doesn’t need to, because before I know it, he’s slipping into the bed behind me, his bare skin pressing against mine. I feel the heat of him, his presence a constant, undeniable force against my back. He doesn’t bother to pull on any clothes, his bare chest brushing against me as he settles in, his arm wrapping around me, pulling me close.

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, my body sinking into the warmth of him as I try to adjust to the feeling of being so close, so tangled in his presence. His heartbeat, steady and calm, thumps against my back as he presses his lips to my shoulder, a small, contented sound leaving him. It makes me shiver, not with cold, but with something else—something deeper, something I can’t quite define.

Xaden’s arm tightens around me, but his touch remains gentle, his warmth seeping into my skin as I finally relax into him, the exhaustion of the day and our shared moments taking its toll. I let myself breathe deeply, every inhale filling me with the scent of him—musky, warm, a hint of something like cedar and saltwater.

I close my eyes, but not before I catch one last glimpse of him, the outline of his face in the dim light, his expression soft but still holding that intensity I can’t shake. It’s enough to send a flutter through my chest, the lingering tension in my body finally dissipating as I let sleep claim me. His body behind me is a steady, reassuring presence, and in his arms, I feel like I’ve found a place I never want to leave.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@xadenswhore @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @Mariahoedt @marrass @universallyrascaldreamercookie

[hmmarble]

HMMARBLEDESİGN - DRAGON+ (2)

Marble Bathroom Sink

When it comes to home design, few materials evoke a sense of luxury and timeless beauty quite like marble. A marble bathroom sink not only serves as a functional wash basin but also elevates the overall aesthetic of your space. The elegance of marble exudes sophistication, turning an ordinary bathroom into a serene oasis.

Marble Bathroom Sink

A marble bathroom sink is not just a functional component of your bathroom; it is a statement piece that adds elegance and luxury. Marble, known for its unique veining and rich texture, brings a timeless charm to any space. When choosing a marble bathroom sink, there are several factors to consider to ensure it complements your bathroom design.

First, consider the style of your bathroom. Whether you are going for a modern, classic, or rustic look, a marble sink can fit seamlessly into any theme. The color palette of the marble also matters; white and cream marbles can lend a fresh and airy feel, while darker hues can create a dramatic effect.

Maintenance is another important aspect to consider. While marble sinks are stunning, they do require some care to maintain their beauty. Regular sealing and careful cleaning will help prevent stains and etching, keeping your sink looking pristine over the years.

Installation is another key consideration. Marble is heavier than other materials, so ensure that your cabinet and plumbing can support your chosen marble bathroom sink. Consultation with a professional can help you navigate this aspect of your renovation.

Ultimately, a marble bathroom sink is an investment in both aesthetics and functionality. By choosing the right type, color, and maintenance plan, you can enjoy the beauty of marble in your bathroom for years to come.

Wash Basin Sink

A wash basin sink is an essential fixture in any bathroom, offering both functionality and style. When selecting a wash basin sink, it is important to consider various factors such as size, design, and material.

One popular choice among homeowners is the marble bathroom sink. Known for its elegance and durability, marble sinks can elevate the aesthetic of your bathroom. Their unique veining patterns ensure that no two sinks are alike, providing a one-of-a-kind centerpiece for your space.

When choosing a wash basin sink, you will encounter various types including undermount, vessel, and pedestal sinks. Each design has its own benefits and can enhance the overall look of your bathroom. For instance, vessel sinks are often mounted on top of the countertop, making them a stylish option that complements modern decor.

Aside from aesthetics, the wash basin sink should also offer practical features. Consider looking for a model with easy-to-clean surfaces and a design that accommodates your bathing and grooming needs. The right choice will not only enhance your bathroom’s style but also improve daily usage.

In terms of installation, make sure to consult with a professional if you are unsure. Proper installation of your wash basin sink will ensure that it functions efficiently and lasts for many years to come.

Lastly, don't forget to incorporate additional features such as stylish faucets and accessories that complement your wash basin sink and add to the overall design of your bathroom.

Ancient Roman Baths

The Ancient Roman Baths were an essential aspect of Roman culture, reflecting the importance of hygiene, social interaction, and relaxation in ancient society. These baths, also known as thermae, were large public bathing complexes that served as a social hub for citizens of all classes.

Typically, the layout of a Roman bath included a series of rooms with varying temperatures and functions. The caldarium (hot bath) heated the water through a sophisticated system of hypocaust, allowing steam to rise and warm the space. Next to it was the tepidarium (warm bath), which served as a transitional room, and the frigidarium (cold bath), where bathers would plunge into cooler waters to invigorate their bodies.

In addition to hygiene, these baths featured amenities such as libraries, gymnasiums, and gardens, encouraging a sense of community and leisure. Romans often visited to socialize, conduct business, or simply enjoy the art and architecture that adorned these luxurious facilities. The decorative mosaics and grand columns were not only functional but also represented the wealth and sophistication of the society.

The significance of the Ancient Roman Baths can also be seen in their architectural innovation. The Romans mastered the use of concrete and arches, allowing for grand open spaces and intricate designs. These structures have inspired modern spa designs, embodying the idea of relaxation and wellness.

Despite their popularity, the fall of the Roman Empire led to the decline of these spectacular sites. Many were repurposed, and their intricate plumbing systems fell into disrepair. However, remnants of these ancient baths still surface in archaeological sites, offering a glimpse into a fascinating aspect of Roman life.

Today, while we may not indulge in the same communal bathing practices, the legacy of the Ancient Roman Baths endures. Their emphasis on hygiene and social engagement continues to influence how we design our own spaces for relaxation and community interaction.

[hees-mine]

THE HANDY MAN - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, anal fingering, cursing, flirting.

WC: 2,750k

-

A ring on your doorbell prompts you to set the cup of tea you were drinking down on your living room coffee table.

For a moment, you squint your brows together, wondering who is at your door.

But it quickly came to you you had made an appointment last week for the leaky pipe under your sink to be fixed. It’s been bugging you for a while now, and you finally made time to get it repaired.

You turn down the volume of the TV series you are watching and hop off the couch.

Walking over to the door, you comb your fingers through your messy hair and straighten out your shorts and tank top to make yourself look presentable.

You unlocked the door and twisted the knob pulling it back and revealing a repair man in a navy blue jumpsuit and a toolbox in his left hand. “Hi!” You chirp, greeting him with a warm smile.

He nods, offering you a smile as well. “Hello, so I hear you have a pipe that needs fixing.”

“You heard right,” you laugh softly and unintentionally bite down on your bottom lip as you eye him up and down. You weren’t expecting him to be so young and look so good. Even in the unflattering work uniform, he was still extremely handsome.

“Well then, mam, you called the right place. I’ll do everything in my power to get that taken care of for you today,” he says while lifting his toolbox slightly.

You open the door wide enough to let him enter, and you close it shut behind him while he stands by, waiting for you to lead the way. “This way,” you mutter while walking to the kitchen and stopping at your sink.

You bent over, opening the cabinet doors, and moving around some pots and pans you had stored under there. “Sorry about the mess,” you grunt softly, shuffling everything to the side so he has ample space to work in.

“No worries, take your time,” he speaks up behind you, shamelessly staring at your ass that’s poked out right for his eyes to feast on. Maybe his mind was in the gutter, but if he’s not mistaken, you stayed down there just a little bit longer than you needed to allow him to stare even longer, but he’s definitely not complaining.

“There,” you huff, standing up and blowing a strand of hair out of your face. “It’s that one right there.” You turn on the faucet, pointing to the pipe, and he sees it immediately.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely leaking, alright.” he laughs softly and crouches down, looking at the pipe. It looked to be old and probably cracked, from what he could tell, but for the most part, this would be an easy fix. The only real inconvenience would be that your water had to be shut off for a while. “But nothing I can’t take care of.” he reaches into his toolbox, grabbing his flashlight and tools, ready to get started.

“Great!” You say brightly. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

He nods as you walk back to the kitchen and resume your show.

He does his work fast and efficiently. It took him twenty minutes max, but what can he say? He’s been in the business five years, and not to brag, but he was the best in the company, serving more than hundreds of customers with top-tier service, and his reviews could confirm that. “So, what do you do for work?” He asks, making small talk as he wraps up the last bit.

“Lawyer,” you answer from across the room.

Your voice sounds muffled due to his head being under your cabinets, but he can still make out your response.

He stands up, careful not to hit his head on the way up, as he grabs a rag from his toolbox and wipes off his hands. “Nice, I like a girl with ambition” Before you could respond to the comment, he twisted the knob on the faucet running the water to check for any leaks, but obviously, there were none. “Good as new,” he smiles, completely glazing over his previous comment.

Upon hearing his words, you stood up, looking at his work. Even though you didn’t really know what to look for, all you cared about was that it was no longer leaking and you could use your sink like normal. “Very nice, thank you, handyman,” you say, your tone light and flirtatious. “Would you like a glass of water lemonade?”

“Lemonade sounds nice, thank you,” he smiles, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead.

And yeah, he definitely wasn’t mistaken earlier, judging by the way you literally were bent over in your fridge, ass in the air, and the arch in your back far too exaggerated to be just innocently grabbing your lemonade pitcher.

He tosses his towel aside with a smirk, leaning against your counter and biting on his lower lip as he waits for you to pour him a glass of lemonade.

Setting the pitcher on the countertop, you grab two glasses from your cupboard, filling both cups equally.

“Thanks.” he clicks his tongue, giving you a quick wink. He takes the cup in his hand, his fingers purposely brushing against yours. He gulps down the whole cup in one go, and you’re left with your mouth slightly agape as you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Well, everything should be good. If you have any questions or concerns about anything, here’s my card. Feel free to call whenever.”

“Will do -oh, your payment. I almost forgot.” You quickly sat up, went to a small drawer in your living room, and pulled out a box where some cash was stored. “How much was it?” You ask over your shoulder.

He leaned over the counter, tapping his chin in thought. “Hmm, let’s just say 50$”

“Only?” You ask, and he hums.

“Suit yourself.” You grab the fifty while he gathers his tools, heading over toward you.

“Here you go, thank you, heeseung.” You eye him seductively.

“My pleasure.” he reaches for the money, intentionally grabbing your hand, and your breath hitches softly.

He bites his lip, fingers brushing against yours. You both make eye contact silently, giving each other a knowing look, and there’s undeniable tension between the two of you.

Simultaneously, you both let go of the dollar bill, letting it fall onto the floor along with his toolbox and immediately, his hands grab at your waist, pulling you into his body, his lips barely an inch away from yours.

-

Read full story on my Patreon

[sosa2imagines]

For the Dad Bucky ask, if this hasn’t been asked already. Bucky having to handle a toddler just learned to walk and getting into everything because of course toddlers love to explore when they learned how to move around more efficiently.

Congrats on 500+ followers hope you reach another milestone of followers before 2025.

Warning- Pure fluff.

Disclaimer- Thank you so much @iwudbutnah and I really loved the idea!!!!! I hope you like this.

Bucky walked into the living room, and laid a large rug on the ground underneath the play set he had put in the corner.

A colorful playmat with a large tree and animals was centered on the rug.  His daughter had just learned to walk, and each step was a triumphant declaration of her newfound freedom.

Despite Bucky's meticulous efforts to baby-proof the house, his daughter had a talent for finding the one spot that wasn’t completely secured.

Bucky had just finished setting everything, when he heard a thump behind him. He whirled, arms already held in a defensive position, only to find that it was just his baby girl, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Bucky's heart raced as he saw his daughter, barely a year old, gleefully tossing Tupperware lids onto the tiled kitchen floor.

Each clatter sent a wave of panic through him. He could imagine your face, glaring at him. He hurried over to her, careful not to move too quickly, but his mind was already running through all the worst-case scenarios. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, scooping her up, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Let's get you set up with something a little less... destructible.”

Bucky quickly snatched up the last few Tupperware lids and placed them back in the cabinet. He had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when he noticed his daughter staring intently at the toaster. Her tiny hands were reaching out, trying to press the buttons and twist the knobs. 

Bucky quickly scooped his daughter into his arms, preventing her from reaching the toaster. His heart pounded as he thought of the potential dangers.

“No, no, no,” he said gently, lifting her up to eye level. “The toaster is for grown-up hands only. You can't play with it, okay?”

His daughter looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, giving him a gummy baby smile, completely oblivious to the danger. “Pa!”

Bucky couldn't help but smile back at his daughter's gummy smile. Her giggle was contagious, making his heart feel inexplicably light. He lifted her up and carried her over to her pile of colorful blocks, setting her down gently.

“Here we go, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her hair lovingly. “Let's play with your toys instead.”

His daughter's eyes widened at the sight of her blocks, and she immediately set to work, pulling them out of the basket and slamming them down on the floor.

Bucky watched as his daughter played with her blocks, but it was clear her attention was fleeting. Within minutes, she had lost interest and begun crawling off in search of her next adventure.

He quickly followed her, wary of what she might get into next. He was surprised at how quickly she could move, he couldn't even blink without her ending up at a new spot in the room.

Bucky's heart skipped a beat as he saw his daughter's next destination, the bathroom. She had already pulled herself up to a standing position and was now attempting to reach the faucet on the sink.

He lunged forward, his hands grasping her just as she managed to turn the faucet on. Water splashed everywhere, but thankfully, he had managed to prevent a full-fledged flood.

“Whoa, kiddo,” Bucky said, holding her in his arms again. “Bathrooms are off-limits, remember?”

Bucky sighed in relief that he had averted the bathroom disaster, only to find that his daughter had already moved on to her next target. She was headed straight for the bookshelf in the corner.

Bucky was all too familiar with this tactic. His daughter loved pulling books off the shelf and flinging them onto the floor. It was a never-ending battle to keep the bookshelf stocked and tidy.

He hurried over, scooping her up again just as her tiny hands reached out to tug at a spine.

“No pulling books, princess,” he said firmly, looking down at her with a stern expression.

She giggled, completely unfazed by his disapproval, and tried to twist out of his arms. She was getting stronger each day, and Bucky was starting to feel like he was wrestling with a tiny tornado.

Despite the chaos she was causing, Bucky couldn't help but smile at his daughter's mischievous antics. He knew this was just part of being a parent, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

“You're a handful, you know that?” he said, trying to sound disapproving but failing. “But you're my handful, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Later on, Bucky's heart filled with warmth as he glanced down and saw his daughter trying to shove a pair of his socks into the laundry machine. She was holding one sock in each hand, giggling as she attempted to force both into the small opening.

“Trying to do laundry, huh?” Bucky crouched down next to her, a smile pulling at his lips despite the mess she was making.

Throughout the day, Bucky remained steadfast and patient, keeping up with his daughter's endless antics. He was like a one-man cleaning crew, tidying up after her as she moved from one hazard to the next.

But despite the chaos, Bucky couldn't help but feel a deep well of affection for her. Each giggle and mischievous glance reminded him how lucky he was to be her father.

As the day wore on, her energy level slowly began to dwindle. The endless exploring and playing had finally caught up with her and she began to yawn, rubbing her eyes.

Bucky noticed the change in her demeanor and quickly scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. “Looks like it's time for a nap, kiddo,” he said, his voice softer now.

Bucky gently placed her in the crib, and stood over, watching his daughter's small chest rise and fall with each breath. His heart filled with an overwhelming tenderness as he looked down at her peaceful face.

The adventures had taken their toll on both parent and child. Bucky's muscles ached from the nonstop chasing and tidying, but the exhaustion was nothing compared to the love that filled his heart.

He finally sat down, the quiet of the apartment almost surreal after the whirlwind of the day. His phone buzzed, a message from you. “How's it going?”

He snapped a picture of their sleeping daughter and sent it back with a caption: “Exhausted but victorious.”

You were quick to reply, “You are the best dad in the whole world.”

As he read the text, in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of toddler exploration, Bucky knew he wouldn't trade this journey for anything.

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

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@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[thelampisaflashlight]

Aeon, watching Dew wash the dishes: "How come you organize the dishes before you wash them?" Dew, rinsing out a glass: "Makes it more efficient, plus my brain hates clutter." Aeon: "But isn't your room-" Dew, pulling the extendable faucet to max range and pointing it at Aeon: "Choose your next words carefully." Aeon, not scared: "Swiss tried the same thing last week and he couldn't hit me even from that ra-" -getting viciously sprayed in the face by cold water- "-AAAHHH!" Dew, using what little magic he inherited to extend the reaches of the water: "DROWN, BRAT!"

[sentijazz]

the elite guard morning routine

Ultra Magnus: wakes up crazy early to an alarm, never hits snooze, has a drone prepare his energon, showers (water proof tablet in the shower wall so he can have text to speech read off his schedule), drinks his cube and tosses it into a waste bin as he walks out the door. Maximized efficiency.

Sentinel Prime: he tries to emulate Ultra Magnus by waking up crazy early.. Tho that’s crazy so he hits snooze a couple times. Once he does wake up he takes some time to internally reflect, hype himself up, and reaffirm his goals. Then it’s out the door! He showers before going to bed and he prefers having someone else prepare his mining energon for him at work. He has to get on the go because SOME PEOPLE can’t wake up by themselves.

Jettwins: their alarm clock is Sentinel Prime. Very abrupt and chop-chop morning. Jetstorm prefers to shower before energon and since they have one washrack Jetfire got used to having energon before showering. Then it’s out the door for morning training!

Jazz: wakes up bright and early, warms a fresh cube of energon, puts on some tunes, take a shower, and enjoy an hour of early morning “Me Time”. After the hour is up and his cube is empty that’s when Jazz goes out to begin his day.

Blurr: in contrast to Jazz if Blurr needs to he somewhere by 5 he wakes up at 4:30. Hits snooze a couple times and now it’s 4:50. In and out of the shower because he thinks having the faucet on high pressure will compensate for rushing. Grabs a cube and zips out the door to where he needs to be. Right on time. Every time. It ticks Sentinel Prime off.

[cliftonbathrooms]

How to Choose the Perfect Bathroom Fixtures for Your Home

How to Choose the Perfect Bathroom Fixtures for Your Home

When it comes to designing or renovating a bathroom, choosing the right bathroom fixtures is crucial to creating a space that is both functional and aesthetically pleasing. The right fixtures can elevate the look and feel of your bathroom, while providing convenience and comfort for everyday use. At Clifton Bathrooms, we understand the importance of selecting high-quality, stylish, and durable bathroom fixtures that meet your needs. In this blog, we will guide you through the essential factors to consider when choosing the perfect bathroom fixtures for your home.

1. Consider Your Bathroom’s Style and Theme

Before you dive into selecting individual fixtures, it’s important to have a clear understanding of your bathroom’s style and theme. Are you going for a modern, minimalist look or a more traditional, elegant design? Your choice of bathroom fixtures should complement the overall theme and atmosphere of your bathroom.

Modern Bathrooms: If you’re aiming for a sleek, contemporary bathroom, opt for fixtures with clean lines, chrome or matte finishes, and simple designs. The Quoss Chrome Reno Transformer Cobra Flex Single Flix Mixer, for example, is a perfect choice for modern bathrooms with its minimalist design and flexible spout.

Traditional Bathrooms: For a classic, timeless look, choose fixtures with more intricate detailing. Go for brass, gold, or oil-rubbed bronze finishes, which add warmth and elegance to the space. Consider traditional basin mixers and towel rails to create a vintage-inspired bathroom.

Spa-Like Bathrooms: If you’re designing a bathroom that feels like a personal retreat, focus on fixtures that create a luxurious experience, such as large rainfall showers, freestanding tubs, and polished chrome faucets. The Quoss Rain Shower Sunflower would be an excellent option to add a spa-like touch to your bathroom.

2. Functionality Matters

While aesthetics are important, bathroom fixtures must also be functional and serve your everyday needs. When selecting your fixtures, consider how they will be used in your daily routine and make sure they are comfortable and easy to operate.

Showerheads and Faucets: Choose showerheads with adjustable settings to allow for a customizable experience. If you prefer a rainfall shower, the Quoss Rain Shower Sunflower provides a large, rectangular head for an immersive shower experience. For faucets, ensure that they have a smooth operation and are easy to control.

Storage Needs: Your bathroom fixtures should also provide ample storage. This is especially important if you have a small bathroom where space is limited. Consider installing towel bars, shelves, or built-in storage solutions along with your fixtures to keep your bathroom tidy and organized.

Water Efficiency: In today’s world, being environmentally conscious is key. Look for fixtures that help conserve water without compromising performance. Many modern faucets, showers, and toilets are designed with water-saving technology to reduce water consumption while still providing great performance.

3. Quality and Durability

The bathroom is a high-traffic area, so you need fixtures that are built to last. Choosing high-quality, durable bathroom fixtures ensures you won’t need to replace them in the near future. Look for trusted brands that offer long-lasting warranties and exceptional quality.

At Clifton Bathrooms, we offer a range of premium bathroom fixtures, such as the Quoss Basin Mixer, designed to withstand daily use while maintaining its beauty and functionality. High-quality materials like stainless steel, brass, and chrome are known for their resistance to corrosion and tarnishing, making them ideal for use in bathrooms where moisture is prevalent.

4. Size and Space Considerations

The size of your bathroom plays a significant role in choosing the right fixtures. A large bathroom offers more flexibility, allowing you to install larger items like a double vanity, a freestanding tub, or an oversized shower. However, if you have a small bathroom, you’ll need to be more strategic in your fixture choices to maximize space.

Compact Bathrooms: For smaller bathrooms, consider space-saving fixtures such as wall-mounted faucets and toilets, which free up floor space. A smaller showerhead, like the Quoss Rain Shower Sunflower, can be a great option for compact bathrooms while still providing a powerful and enjoyable shower experience.

Large Bathrooms: If you have a spacious bathroom, you can afford to go for larger fixtures. A freestanding bathtub, a wide vanity, and a big showerhead can transform your bathroom into an oasis of comfort and luxury.

5. Finishes and Materials

The finish of your bathroom fixtures can make a big difference in the overall aesthetic of the room. Choose finishes that complement your bathroom’s style while being durable and easy to maintain.

Chrome and Polished Finishes: Chrome fixtures are timeless, offering a sleek, modern look that works well in almost any bathroom. They are also highly resistant to corrosion and easy to clean.

Matte Finishes: Matte finishes, such as matte black or brushed nickel, are gaining popularity for their contemporary, understated look. They are also practical as they tend to show fewer water spots and fingerprints compared to polished finishes.

Brass and Bronze: For traditional or vintage-inspired bathrooms, brass and bronze fixtures provide a rich, luxurious touch. These finishes age beautifully and add a sense of warmth and elegance to the bathroom.

Glass and Ceramic Elements: Consider adding glass or ceramic elements, like a ceramic basin or glass shower enclosure, to give your bathroom a light, airy feel. These materials are timeless and easy to maintain.

6. Technology and Innovation

Modern bathroom fixtures now come with innovative technology that enhances both convenience and comfort. When selecting your fixtures, consider options that offer smart features.

Touchless Faucets: Touchless faucets are a great choice for hygienic bathrooms. These faucets automatically turn on and off when they detect motion, helping to reduce water waste and keeping the faucet clean.

Thermostatic Showers: If you enjoy the perfect shower temperature every time, thermostatic shower valves are worth considering. These valves allow you to set and maintain your desired water temperature, making your shower experience more comfortable and consistent.

LED Lighting: Some bathroom fixtures, such as mirrors and showerheads, now come with built-in LED lighting. LED lights not only provide energy efficiency but also create a soothing ambiance in your bathroom.

7. Budget Considerations

Your budget is one of the most important factors to consider when choosing bathroom fixtures. While it’s tempting to go for high-end designer fixtures, it’s essential to choose fixtures that fit within your budget while still meeting your needs. Prioritize key fixtures such as faucets, showerheads, and lighting, and allocate your budget wisely.

At Clifton Bathrooms, we offer a wide range of bathroom fixtures at different price points, ensuring you can find the perfect combination of quality, functionality, and style that fits your budget.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect bathroom fixtures for your home can be a rewarding experience when you consider the style, functionality, quality, and space requirements. By taking into account the factors discussed in this blog, you can make informed decisions and create a bathroom that not only looks beautiful but also meets your practical needs. At Clifton Bathrooms, we offer a diverse range of high-quality, stylish bathroom fixtures to help you create your dream bathroom. Whether you’re renovating or building from scratch, our selection of premium products, including the Quoss Basin Mixer and Quoss Rain Shower Sunflower, can elevate your bathroom to new heights.

Start your bathroom journey with Clifton Bathrooms today and find the perfect fixtures to complement your home!

[tgmsunmontue]

Get your motor runnin' - 3/6

Bradley, a bit of a (very talented) grease monkey and Jake, who has been sent to see him because he's apparently the best mechanic Maverick knows.

A longer fleshed out fic at the request of @poetryandpickles based on their idea in this post. Likely going to be 5-6 parts and likely an excuse for lots of smut. Just as an FYI.

PART ONE PART TWO

PART THREE

                He hasn’t done casual sex in years, and it’s not been because of lack of opportunity. Jake isn’t the first person to ask him out under the guise of propositioning him, he is the first that Bradley has taken up the offer though. At least in his place of business. Fuck. This is probably a terrible idea. They haven’t even exchanged names properly, or kissed or… yeah they might have had an immediate flare of attraction but it doesn’t always translate into anything worth something. Hopefully it’s at least a decent orgasm.

                He normally has a shower after he finishes work. It’s an outside shower, given how dirty he can get, the tubing for the water running back and forth over the roof of his little house, heated during the day by the sun. He only resorts to using the electrically heated water inside on cold days. Fuck it. Jake Seresin can deal with him getting clean. Will probably appreciate it. And Bradley can invite him to join, see whether he’s as confident naked as Bradley suspects he will be.

                He bends over to unzip his boots, steel caps heavy and dusty, places them in the locker he has beside the outdoor shower with its angled screen providing a modicum of privacy. But it’s still outdoors and anyone walking around the garage would know he’s naked. He knows he’s putting on a bit of a show as he pulls his shirt over his head, before tugging the arms of his coveralls where they’re tied around his waist and doing a little wiggle to make them fall around his ankles. He shoves it into the locker, stepping away to pull off his socks and threadbare basketball shorts he’d had on beneath. It leaves him standing there in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs, which he’ll leave in place for the time being.

                “Thought you were going to show me your bed…” Jake drawls and Bradley smirks.

                “Nothing wrong with taking the scenic route. You going to join me?” Bradley asks, flicking the shower faucet on.

                “Nope. Quite happy just enjoying the view…”

                “You can enjoy it much closer…”

                He stands there, unashamed of his almost nakedness as Jake openly lets his gaze wander. It’s arousing in a way he hasn’t experienced in a while, the blatant open appreciation and he steps under the water, scrubs his hands with the gritty heavy-duty handsoap which still doesn’t always get all the grease off his hands.

                “Yeah, okay.”

                He looks over to where Jake is standing, pulling his own t-shirt over his head and Bradley grins, because he can see wide expanses of skin being exposed, and then jeans being pushed down, some awkward hopping as he kicks off his shoes.              Part of it is quick and efficient, reminding him that Jake is Navy, would be used to changing quickly. As familiar with his flight suit as Bradley is with his overalls. Except he’s in civvies and also he’s busy looking at Bradley than paying attention to what he’s wearing and what he’s taking off. Then Jake is taking a deep sucking breath in, like he’s bracing for something and then he steps under the spray of water with him.

                “Oh… it’s warm.”

                “Yeah. Solar. Come here.”

                Then he’s curling his fingers around Jake’s hips and tugging him closer, there’s maybe an inch height difference between them, Jake pressing in close, angling his head for a kiss. Instead of complying he licks over Jake’s clavicle, nibbles his way up his neck, noses the hair behind his ear and then sucks gently on his earlobe then along his jaw before finally kissing him. Grinds their bodies together, their wet briefs adding extra friction against their cocks and his groan of pleasure mingles with Jake’s.

                He shoves and hand between them, palms Jake’s cock, has no interest in dragging it out. Not only because the warm water isn’t infinite, but he’s tired and hungry and now incredibly vested in getting off; hornier than he has been in months when faced with the naked, attractive and now soaking wet man in front of him. As he keeps kissing him he grinds his own cock against Jake’s thigh, grateful when Jake’s hand push down his underwear and firm sure fingers wrap around his cock and start working up and down.

                “Fuck yeah…” he mumbles between breaths, shifts so he can push Jake’s underwear down and he can return the favor. As he chances a glance down he sees it, the smear of grease on the bare skin of Jake’s flank, despite the fact he’s washed his hands he’s left marks; he cannot bring himself to care. In fact finds he quite likes the idea, if the jerk of his cock in Jake’s hand is any indication.

                It is not fancy or in anyway elaborate, both of them just working their hands hard and fast, bodies shifting and jerking toward the pleasure, breathing becoming increasingly erratic, lips moving to biting kisses or simply loose presses of open mouths against stubbled skin as they both get closer and closer, underwear still around their thighs. There’s muttered mumbled instructions in half-breaths, harder, faster, fuck, please, just like that, yeah, good.

                Jake comes over his fist first, his come immediately being washed away and his grip on Bradley’s cock spasms harder and he jerks into it, mumbles another yeah, fuck into the side of Jake’s neck to urge him on. Lucky for him Jake is good at following instructions and also able to focus on other things despite just coming, his hand picking up speed and mouth on Bradley’s neck as he jerks him off and then he’s coming, muscles in his gut clenching and releasing, making him shudder as he comes and he shoves himself against Jake, kisses him until they’re both even more breathless.

                “Mmm…”

                “Fuck, I needed that.”

                “Glad to be of service,” Bradley says with a smirk and Jake snorts, but he looks just as good all wet and post-orgasmic as he did walking into Bradley’s workshop fully dressed. Now that the need to come has been taken care of his stomach is reminding him that all he had for lunch was a salad and a protein shake, consumed while he tried to do paperwork. His stomach grumbles and he pulls away a little.

                “Can I interest you in frozen pizza and a second round?” He sees Jake hesitate and has to hold back the roll of eyes. Fucks sake. Men and their fucking repressed emotions. “I’m not going to read anything into you wanting to eat food and a get second orgasm. Trust me.”

                “Yeah. Okay. And maybe I’ll actually get to see this infamous bed you say you have.”

                “Maybe. If you’re lucky.”

FOUR

[peachy-posy]

Stargazing (Vash the Stampede x Reader)

Summary: An encounter with a bounty hunter leaves you feeling uneasy.

A/N: Vash has me in a chokehold, all I can do is write fics. Pls send help. Anyway, I am once again combining elements of both 98 Vash and Stampede Vash because best of both worlds and all that <3 Posted here on AO3

Warnings: Non-graphic violence, strong yearning (pre-relationship ofc), idiots in love

Word Count: 2.5k

Today was too close.

Rapidly cooling water drips down your sore arms as you hug your knees to your chest in the bath. The only sound in the bathroom of the quiet inn is the occasional drip of the faucet leaking into the cloudy bathwater. You close your eyes, resting your forehead on the tops of your knees.

A bounty hunter had caught you both by surprise. The pair of you were nearing the next town in your travels, laughing and chatting with each other like always. You had been admiring him; how the sunlight made his hair shine like gold, how his brilliant blue eyes would sometimes peek over his sunglasses if they slipped too far down his nose when he laughed. 

Then, there was a gunshot. 

It was all so fast. The rapid shifting of his expression made you feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head. He shoved you, and then you were on the sand, looking up at him as a bullet tore the side of his shoulder.

You were frozen, the shock of it gluing you to the ground. He was virtually unphased, drawing his gun with a focused expression and frightening efficiency. He fired a single shot, and you registered someone grunting in surprise. Vash taking off in that direction was what shook you out of your stupor - you scrambled clumsily to your feet, drawing your revolver and following him.

The rest of it was a weird blur in your memory. The fight ended the way all of the other ones do. But for some reason, this one was so different. You couldn’t get the image of Vash being struck by the bullet out of your mind, even now.

The bullet that was supposed to hit you.

Luckily, it was just a graze. He didn’t even really need much first aid. But while he laughed and shrugged it off, you trembled the whole way into town.

You open your eyes once more, blinking a few times to focus your vision. The cloudy water ripples gently around you, and you realize that you are shaking. The water has grown quite cold, and you take that as a sign that it’s time to get out. 

After pulling the drain, you lift yourself out of the old tub, carefully maneuvering over the ledge. You make quick work of toweling yourself dry, wanting to escape the chill of the water. Goosebumps raise on your skin regardless.

You change into the set of clothes you brought into the bathroom with you, running a brush through your hair carelessly. You didn’t have it in you tonight to care all that much about your hair of all things.

After finishing up, you reach for the doorknob, but find yourself hesitating just before reaching it. The idea of sitting in the room with Vash made you feel nauseous. 

What a great friend you are.

You feel sick with guilt over that stupid graze on his shoulder. Logically, you know that it’s not your fault and he doesn’t blame you. You know that you would have shoved him out of the way if your positions were reversed. You know that both of you have had much, much worse injuries from various encounters with enemies. So, why are you feeling so weird? 

You swallow thickly. Suck it up. Stop being weird and go sit with him. Talk like you always do.

Inhaling deeply and finding your resolve, you square your shoulders and open the door. He’s sitting on one of the two beds in the room, cleaning his gun meticulously. Locks of his golden hair fall in his face, and he shakes his head to the side to move it out of the way. You find yourself smiling fondly at his focused expression, his bright eyes flicking up at you for a moment before returning to his task. He smiles softly, hands working all the while.

“Hey,” he calls softly.

His focused expression, while endearing, reminds you of how he looked earlier today. You feel your resolve crumble, and that constricting feeling squeezes your chest once more.

“Hey,” you manage weakly, walking over to your old, worn boots sitting by the door. You sit down, lacing them up. 

Coward.

Out of your peripheral vision, you see him look up at you, more intently this time. He says nothing for a moment, likely seeing if you plan on explaining where you’re going. 

“Everything okay?” He finally asks, the silence stretching on long enough apparently. 

You tighten the laces with a firm tug and sigh. “I’m okay. I’ll be back in a little while.” He seems like he’s about to question you some more, so you add in a teasing tone, “Go have a bath. You could use it, Stampede.”

He gasps with mock offense, his hand clutching his chest. You crack a smile, and you can tell he’s stifling a smile of his own.

“You’re so mean!” He pouted. 

You finish with your laces, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right!” 

He frowns playfully in response, and you shoot him a grin, turning to face the door. You reach for the knob, but the sound of your name from his lips has your hand coming to a halt before reaching its destination. You turn your head to the side, silently waiting for him to continue. 

He catches your eye, hesitating as he settles on what to say. “Be careful,” he finally murmurs softly, and you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. You feel more guilt squeezing your heart at his affectionate expression. 

“I will,” you promise. With that, you twist the doorknob and quietly leave the room.

You don’t even know where you’re going. You left with absolutely no plan, letting anxiety and avoidant tendencies drive your decision to flee the room. You let your feet guide you out of the building, walking onto the small street. At this hour, there aren’t many out. You pause, sighing and lifting your gaze to the clear sky. The stars look stunning. 

You know where you want to go. 

There is a large rock formation right near the inn. You remember seeing it on your way into town today. The vantage point it would provide would make for some excellent star gazing. 

You walk around the base of the large rock aimlessly for a bit, trying to find a way up.  Eventually, you stumble upon a small, worn portion of the stone, making a path of sorts. Looks like the locals enjoy coming up here too.

You slowly make your way up the rock, the worn, smooth path becoming clearer as you ascend. At the top, you find that there are lots of flat spaces to sit down at, so you choose one near the edge. The ground is cold, the air is cold, but it’s all worth it for the view. 

The rock sits behind the inn, tall enough to be above the buildings of the town. You can see the vast, open desert stretch as far as the eye can see in every direction. The inky, dark sky is clear, the stars glittering brilliantly above you. Your cold, wet hair clings to your skin as you hug your knees to your chest. You feel most at ease under the night sky like this. Your problems feel small in magnitude when they are compared to the vastness of the universe.

You don’t know how long you sat in that spot, unmoving, thinking about both everything and nothing. It was apparently long enough to warrant a search party of one, though, you soon find out. 

You feel a sudden warmth drape over your shoulders. You turn around, but know who it is before seeing him. The warmth surrounding you comes in the form of a long, red coat you know very well. Your eyes travel up the tall figure behind you, eventually finding his own staring down at you. The look he gives you is nothing short of fond exasperation. You are certain your confusion is clear on your face, because how did he find you?

He crouches down, reaching for your wet strands of hair. He lets a small, wet lock slide between his fingers, and he sighs.

“You’ll catch a cold out here like this, Mayfly.”

You clutch the red coat that is engulfing your frame, drawing it against your chilled body more tightly. 

“How’d you find me?”

He sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders are brushing against one another. 

“Because I know you. When in doubt, I go to the highest point I can find, and you’re usually looking at the stars up there.”

Well that makes your chest feel weird. You didn’t even consciously do all that, but he knows you well enough to spot those subconscious little patterns and habits. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, not knowing what to say.

He doesn’t suffer from the same predicament, apparently, because he keeps going. 

“I also know you well enough to know when you’re avoiding me.” You suck in a breath, ready to cut him off and argue that statement, but he shushes you, continuing. You relent begrudgingly, because… well, he’s not wrong. “Let me explain! It’s okay - well, it’s not necessarily ideal, but I’m not upset. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Oh, this is dangerous. Because you’d tell him anything he wants to know if he looks at you like that for much longer. He locks eyes with you, gazing at you so earnestly, so kindly. You start to look down to avoid the eye contact that has you under its spell, but he quickly reaches out to lift your chin back up. 

“Please, Mayfly. Let me in.”

The dam cracks ever slightly. 

“How’s your arm?” You ask, and he furrows his brows. 

“It’s… fine? Why?”

He’s wearing that black turtleneck he always wears. You reach out to gently graze his arm, keeping your touch featherlight. He watches you curiously.

“I don’t know. I really—“ you cut yourself off with a sigh, feeling stupid. “I’ve just felt weird ever since you… well, you know.”

He regards you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. He says nothing, prompting the dam to crack a bit more.

“And I know today wasn’t that out of the ordinary. I know that. But…” you feel the traitorous burn of tears in your eyes, but keep going. “It scared me. That’s all.”

His expression doesn’t give much away, but you swear he seems… sad. Yes, definitely sad. You furrow your brows as he gives you that fake smile, the one you know he hides behind so often with others. It hurts to have it directed at you.

“Listen… I completely understand if you don’t want to travel with me anymore. Having danger constantly at your heels? It is scary. Of course it is. I know that better than anyone.” His voice is soft, and there’s a melancholic sound to it that you recognize from spending countless hours with him. He takes a deep breath, continuing. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect yourself… this is your life we’re talking about. That’s something that’s precious, something that needs to be protected. I promise you, there will be no hard feelings if you want to part ways.”

Wait, wait. What is he saying? Does he think you’re afraid because the bullet could’ve hit you?

Well of course he does. Why would he think otherwise? You haven’t explained yourself. This is probably the most logical conclusion for him to jump to. 

“No! Vash, wait, no. Please,” you reach out, taking his hands, halting the rambling he was engaging in while you sorted your thoughts out. “Listen.”

He obeys, watching you carefully, and gives you his attention with a nod.

“I wasn’t afraid for me. I was afraid for you.”

He looks completely taken aback. “Me?”

You frown. “Yes, of course you!” You squeeze his hands, not liking how surprised he sounds. “I care about you a lot, and today, I think I just realized that I need to do better. I need to be better. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all if I’d noticed that bounty hunter the way you had. I don’t want you getting harmed, especially not because of me.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. At some point during your admission, the tears you’d held back finally spilled. The dam broke. You sniffle, turning away from him.

He breathes your name so softly, you almost miss it. “C’mere.”

You feel arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you don’t hesitate to curl into him. He holds you tight, hand threaded in your wet hair.

“I’m okay. No more tears. Not for me,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of your head.

It’s at this moment that you realize the true crux of the issue. You are terrified of losing him. He has become the most important person in your life, and so many people want him hurt or dead. That’s terrifying. This man, this kind, gentle person, is so hated for no reason. 

He’s become so much more to you than just a travel companion, or even a friend for that matter. That… is also a terrifying thought. 

“I promise I’m okay. And I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

You pull away from his chest enough to meet his eyes. “I’ll always worry about you.”

He softens, a smile forming on his lips.

You lean back into his chest, sitting together quietly, neither making a move to separate from the other. You watch the starry night sky, leaning your head onto him. His arm stays wrapped around you, keeping you close. 

He’s the first to break the silence.

“It’s… nice,” he remarks softly. “It’s been a while since I had someone to worry about me. Or to cry for me.”

Your eyes widen, heart breaking at his words. This world has been so, so unkind to him.

“I know that sounds bad to say. I guess I just mean… I’m glad I have you,” he whispers, chin resting on your head. You can hear the smile in his voice.

This starts a whole new wave of fresh tears. You turn around and face him, a tear sliding down your cheek. If you weren’t so heartbroken by his words, you would’ve laughed at the expression of pure panic he gives you.

“Wait! No, don’t cry! I’m sorry!”

Shifting to sit on your knees in front of him, you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him in a tight hug. You feel his jacket slip off your shoulders, but you don’t care. 

“It doesn’t sound bad at all. I’ll be that person for you. Always,” you murmur. “I’m sorry that people have been so cruel to you. If I could undo the hurt that others have done to you, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You feel him slowly wrap his arms around your waist, reciprocating the embrace as he processes your words. Though belated, he’s holding you just as fiercely as you’re holding him. 

“Please… stay with me. I know it’s selfish to ask—“

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Stampede.” You smile at him. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

[damn-funny]

Dumb Life Hacks That Somehow Work

Let’s be honest: sometimes the best solutions come from the most ridiculous ideas. You know the ones—life hacks so absurd that they make you question reality, yet somehow, against all odds, they actually work. If you’re looking to add some chaos to your life while also making things a little easier, here are some dumb life hacks that are surprisingly effective.

1. Microwave Two Bowls at Once Need to heat up two bowls but only have one turntable? Place one bowl on the microwave plate and use a cup or mug to elevate the second bowl. It looks ridiculous, but it evenly heats both meals at the same time. Efficiency at its finest.

2. Use a Fork to Dunk Oreos Tired of getting your fingers covered in milk when dunking Oreos? Just stick a fork into the creamy center and dip away. It’s life-changing, and you’ll wonder why you didn’t do this sooner.

3. Mark Your Luggage with a Sock Forget fancy luggage tags—just tie an old, brightly colored sock to your suitcase handle. No one will mistake it for theirs, and you’ll spot it instantly at baggage claim. Bonus points if the sock is weird enough to make people do a double-take.

4. Use a Stapler Remover to Save Your Nails Ever struggled to put a key on a keyring, only to end up with broken nails? Use a stapler remover to pry the ring open without destroying your fingers. It’s one of those “why didn’t I think of that?” moments.

5. Wrap a Rubber Band Around a Paint Can Dipping a brush in paint always leads to messy drips. Solve this by stretching a rubber band across the opening of the can and wiping the brush against it. No more excess paint on the rim, and way less mess.

6. Use a Dustpan to Fill a Bucket Ever tried to fit a big bucket under a small sink? Instead of struggling, grab a dustpan, place the wide end under the faucet, and let the handle direct the water into the bucket. It’s a low-effort solution that just works.

7. Cool a Drink Fast with a Wet Paper Towel Need a cold drink ASAP? Wrap your bottle or can in a wet paper towel and pop it in the freezer for 10-15 minutes. It cools much faster than just sticking it in there alone. Science!

These life hacks may seem questionable, but once you try them, you’ll realize their genius. Have any dumb-but-effective hacks of your own? Share them and spread the wisdom of absurd brilliance! For more hilarious life tips and humor, check out our funny Tumblr blog!

[billietherock]

There was no Weirdmageddon (pt10)

By: Billietherock

Chapter 4- Knock

Soon after Fiddleford left to call his brother, Stanford Pines got out of sweater town and sat at the edge of his bed. He really stank, he needed to shower. He needed to think. He trudged to the shower and turned on the faucet.

The water was cold, normally Ford would have preferred something cold, fast and cold and back to work but right now he wasn’t feeling that at all. He wanted something to warm him, to stimulate his mind like Bill did… he shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bathtub. He felt like his problem was equated to a teenage girl who just got broken up with.

If that was the case, why didn’t he just eat a pint of ice cream or get drunk. Why didn’t he feel like doing any of that?

He felt the water, it became warmer. He thought of the mechanics of how the faucet worked, how the knobs on the shower worked, maybe he would just redo the plumbing. He smiles lightly at the thought, but then frowns, not knowing if his idea for the new faucet would make it more or less efficient. Bill would know. Bill always knew how to make his equations, his inventions, his ideas just better.

Maybe that’s why he was so stuck, Bill just made him think so clearly that he doesn’t know what to do without him. He sat, naked, on the side of the bathtub contemplating how Bill would make his idea for a more efficient faucet better.

He lightly touched his neck, where Bill had made him scratch himself a few weeks ago, just now the scabs were starting to heal up. That was the risk of working with a demon, he understood that but… why does it still sting, is it because that was the last interaction he and Bill had?

So many questions and no answers, stuff he’s been pondering for weeks. Steam starts to come out from the shower. Stanford stood up and walked into the shower, then he sits down again.

Water dripped from his hair and down his face, dirt started to wash away as Stanford sat and thought of questions. Questions that he couldn’t seem to answer. What’s worse, he was starting to think his classmates were right about him. He really was one decision away from going crazy.

He squirts shampoo in his hand and spreads it around his head, everything hurt, on the inside. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his heart hurt.

Stanford sat in the shower, watching the soap and suds wash away until the water became cold again. Once this happened he moved to turn the water off and just sat in the tub.

He closes his eyes, just wanting this anticipation to end. For Bill to come into his mind and tell him that it was just a joke or that he found someone else. Because then Ford could move on. But right now he was stuck asking questions and not getting answers.

Then there was a knock on the door.

At least Ford thought it was, odd, since Fiddford has a key. Maybe he lost the key, that didn’t matter, since he didn’t really want to talk with Fiddleford anyway.

There was another knock at the door.

Stanford was confused at the way this person was knocking, almost too loose with the knocks, like someone was sliding their hand against the door. Ford got up, he put on a towel and decided if it was Fiddleford, he wouldn’t care seeing him in a towel.

There was another knock at the door.

This time it was a little firmer. Stanford quickly decided that if it wasn’t his assistant, then that person would care to see him in just a towel. He grabs a robe, Fiddleford’s robe, and ties it around himself.

There was another knock at the door.

Stanford Pines walks down the stairs and looks at the front door. He was nervous, he was kind of a wreck. What if it was someone he didn’t know, or worse, someone he did. He starts to panic, he would say the wrong thing, looking like a wreck, that’s how rumors are spread.

There was another knock at the door.

Stanford grabs hold of the door knob and unlocks the door. He didn’t open the door though, something was weird. Fiddleford would have stopped knocking by now and start humming a tune. Any sane person would have left. Who was this? The IRS?

There was another knock at the door.

Stanford slowly opened the door. What greeted him wasn’t Fiddleford, wasn’t a classmate, wasn’t even someone from the town. On his doorstep was a walking corpse, with two yellow eyes and a grin plastered on his face.

[hees-mine]

THE HANDY MAN - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, anal fingering, cursing, flirting.

WC: 2,750k

-

A ring on your doorbell prompts you to set the cup of tea you were drinking down on your living room coffee table.

For a moment, you squint your brows together, wondering who is at your door.

But it quickly came to you you had made an appointment last week for the leaky pipe under your sink to be fixed. It’s been bugging you for a while now, and you finally made time to get it repaired.

You turn down the volume of the TV series you are watching and hop off the couch.

Walking over to the door, you comb your fingers through your messy hair and straighten out your shorts and tank top to make yourself look presentable.

You unlocked the door and twisted the knob pulling it back and revealing a repair man in a navy blue jumpsuit and a toolbox in his left hand. “Hi!” You chirp, greeting him with a warm smile.

He nods, offering you a smile as well. “Hello, so I hear you have a pipe that needs fixing.”

“You heard right,” you laugh softly and unintentionally bite down on your bottom lip as you eye him up and down. You weren’t expecting him to be so young and look so good. Even in the unflattering work uniform, he was still extremely handsome.

“Well then, mam, you called the right place. I’ll do everything in my power to get that taken care of for you today,” he says while lifting his toolbox slightly.

You open the door wide enough to let him enter, and you close it shut behind him while he stands by, waiting for you to lead the way. “This way,” you mutter while walking to the kitchen and stopping at your sink.

You bent over, opening the cabinet doors, and moving around some pots and pans you had stored under there. “Sorry about the mess,” you grunt softly, shuffling everything to the side so he has ample space to work in.

“No worries, take your time,” he speaks up behind you, shamelessly staring at your ass that’s poked out right for his eyes to feast on. Maybe his mind was in the gutter, but if he’s not mistaken, you stayed down there just a little bit longer than you needed to allow him to stare even longer, but he’s definitely not complaining.

“There,” you huff, standing up and blowing a strand of hair out of your face. “It’s that one right there.” You turn on the faucet, pointing to the pipe, and he sees it immediately.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely leaking, alright.” he laughs softly and crouches down, looking at the pipe. It looked to be old and probably cracked, from what he could tell, but for the most part, this would be an easy fix. The only real inconvenience would be that your water had to be shut off for a while. “But nothing I can’t take care of.” he reaches into his toolbox, grabbing his flashlight and tools, ready to get started.

“Great!” You say brightly. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

He nods as you walk back to the kitchen and resume your show.

He does his work fast and efficiently. It took him twenty minutes max, but what can he say? He’s been in the business five years, and not to brag, but he was the best in the company, serving more than hundreds of customers with top-tier service, and his reviews could confirm that. “So, what do you do for work?” He asks, making small talk as he wraps up the last bit.

“Lawyer,” you answer from across the room.

Your voice sounds muffled due to his head being under your cabinets, but he can still make out your response.

He stands up, careful not to hit his head on the way up, as he grabs a rag from his toolbox and wipes off his hands. “Nice, I like a girl with ambition” Before you could respond to the comment, he twisted the knob on the faucet running the water to check for any leaks, but obviously, there were none. “Good as new,” he smiles, completely glazing over his previous comment.

Upon hearing his words, you stood up, looking at his work. Even though you didn’t really know what to look for, all you cared about was that it was no longer leaking and you could use your sink like normal. “Very nice, thank you, handyman,” you say, your tone light and flirtatious. “Would you like a glass of water lemonade?”

“Lemonade sounds nice, thank you,” he smiles, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead.

And yeah, he definitely wasn’t mistaken earlier, judging by the way you literally were bent over in your fridge, ass in the air, and the arch in your back far too exaggerated to be just innocently grabbing your lemonade pitcher.

He tosses his towel aside with a smirk, leaning against your counter and biting on his lower lip as he waits for you to pour him a glass of lemonade.

Setting the pitcher on the countertop, you grab two glasses from your cupboard, filling both cups equally.

“Thanks.” he clicks his tongue, giving you a quick wink. He takes the cup in his hand, his fingers purposely brushing against yours. He gulps down the whole cup in one go, and you’re left with your mouth slightly agape as you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Well, everything should be good. If you have any questions or concerns about anything, here’s my card. Feel free to call whenever.”

“Will do -oh, your payment. I almost forgot.” You quickly sat up, went to a small drawer in your living room, and pulled out a box where some cash was stored. “How much was it?” You ask over your shoulder.

He leaned over the counter, tapping his chin in thought. “Hmm, let’s just say 50$”

“Only?” You ask, and he hums.

“Suit yourself.” You grab the fifty while he gathers his tools, heading over toward you.

“Here you go, thank you, heeseung.” You eye him seductively.

“My pleasure.” he reaches for the money, intentionally grabbing your hand, and your breath hitches softly.

He bites his lip, fingers brushing against yours. You both make eye contact silently, giving each other a knowing look, and there’s undeniable tension between the two of you.

Simultaneously, you both let go of the dollar bill, letting it fall onto the floor along with his toolbox and immediately, his hands grab at your waist, pulling you into his body, his lips barely an inch away from yours.

-

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Ways to practice eco-friendly living in your home

1. Reduce energy consumption:

- Install energy-efficient appliances and LED light bulbs.

- Turn off lights and unplug electronics when not in use.

- Use natural light as much as possible.

- Set your thermostat to a lower temperature in winter and higher in summer.

- Insulate your home properly to reduce heating and cooling needs.

2. Save water:

- Fix any leaks in faucets and toilets promptly.

- Install low-flow showerheads and faucets.

- Collect rainwater for watering plants.

- Only run the dishwasher and washing machine with full loads.

- Use a broom instead of a hose to clean outdoor spaces.

3. Practice waste reduction:

- Recycle paper, plastic, glass, and metal.

- Compost kitchen scraps and yard waste.

- Opt for reusable products instead of disposable ones (e.g., cloth napkins, rechargeable batteries).

- Avoid single-use plastics, such as plastic bags and water bottles.

- Use a reusable shopping bag.

4. Use eco-friendly cleaning products:

- Choose natural, non-toxic cleaning products or make your own using ingredients like vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.

- Avoid products containing harmful chemicals that can harm the environment and your health.

5. Grow your own food:

- Plant a garden to grow vegetables, fruits, and herbs.

- Use organic and natural fertilizers instead of synthetic ones.

- Compost food scraps to enrich the soil.

6. Opt for sustainable materials:

- Choose furniture made from sustainable materials like bamboo or reclaimed wood.

- Use eco-friendly flooring options like bamboo, cork, or reclaimed hardwood.

- Select paint and other finishes that have low or no volatile organic compounds (VOCs).

7. Reduce plastic waste in the kitchen:

- Use glass or stainless-steel containers for food storage instead of plastic.

- Replace plastic wrap with beeswax wraps or reusable silicone covers.

- Use refillable water bottles and avoid buying bottled water.

8. Conserve energy in the kitchen:

- Use energy-efficient appliances.

- Cook with lids on pots and pans to retain heat and reduce cooking time.

- Opt for smaller appliances like toaster ovens instead of full-sized ovens when possible.

9. Encourage sustainable transportation:

- Use public transportation, walk, or bike whenever possible.

- Carpool or arrange a car-sharing service with neighbors or colleagues.

- Transition to an electric or hybrid vehicle if feasible.

10. Educate and involve your family:

- Teach your family about the importance of eco-friendly practices and involve them in the decision-making process.

- Encourage everyone to adopt sustainable habits and lead by example.

- Discuss environmental issues and brainstorm new ideas for greener living.