#screaming into the soup

[snakenoodlesoup]

I am this close 👌 to making a short-ish sentient Gotham fic and their ties and relationship to the Batfam, specifically Bruce.

Might include a bonus chapter if it does well, we'll see

[squidpedia]

can i offer an odd revive headcannon i have

i like to think revived humans sometimes just grow plants in their hair. And clover has to spend every morning plucking literal clovers out of their hair

started off cute, became a nuisance very fast

[remotewatch]

make that mfer BAM 💥🥣

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1k wc

Summary: Jack doubts his speechwriting skills. You tug that nonsense right out of him.

cws: emergency handjob, food play, cum eating, he cum in he got damn soup idk what else to tell ya !! dear readers please make sure you’re registered to vote and do try to get involved with the Harris campaign in any way you can (it’s what Jack would want, after all 😁)

hats off to my darling editor @mystardustmelodyyy as always 🩵🗳️

minors dni in fact don’t even glance at it

Light-footed staff weave around your path as you track the length of the house to check on tonight’s finishing touches. Your shoes clack against the mirror-polished foyer tile in time with the cadence of your speech repetition.

A text had just come in from your assistant: everyone was having a splendid time, they were on their way to your place now, and a smidge of traffic might push the start of dinner back, ten minutes at the most. Everything was falling into place, but you couldn’t turn down a free moment to go over your words one last time.

“As you all know, my grandparents were lifelong patrons of the arts… honored to present our new exhibition at my fiancé’s library… we thank you all for your generous…” you lose your train of thought when you spot Jack pacing frantically in an alcove, hands twitching as he stifles reflexive hang loose signs. He jolts at the hand you place on his shoulder and defaults to an uncharacteristically strained smile when he sees it’s you.

“How’s the rehearsal going?”

“Well, I think I hate it.” He bites a knuckle and squints exasperatedly at the tiny font on his phone. “There’s so many jokes in here. Why?!” Jack getting cold feet was the only thing you hadn’t planned for; usually he’s the one swooping in when you’re in such a state. There’s absolutely no time for rewrites, so you need to shut this shit down before he decides to start editing anyway. You squeeze his shoulder a little bit, and his head snaps up to see your most convincing faux-worried face.

“Can you help me with one thing real quick, and then we can get it sorted?”

That breaks him out of the fog long enough for you to drag him through the dining room and into the kitchen abuzz with steam and roving caterers.

A curt “Out!” scatters them, and then it’s just you two and the gentle hum of the convection ovens. You guide Jack over to where tonight’s soup is already plated, then to his bowl placed off to the side, accompanied by a post it stuck to the counter: “JS NO SWEET POTATO”.

He’s still lost in thought as you nudge him closer and move behind him.

“I already tasted it, it’s fine,” he mumbles as you start undoing his pants. His voice trails to a sigh when you take his cock out.

“You loved that speech all last week. What’s going on now?”

“I just-“ he doesn’t comment when you start stroking him, but you can feel the muscles in his back loosen slightly, and some of the tension leaks out of his voice. “I really want this to go well for us.”

Your unoccupied hand slides up his lapel and grasps his to stop the fumbling with his tie.

“It’s already going well, and we’re going to keep it that way.” His brow is still furrowed, but that cute little fuzzy edge his voice gets when you take control is seeping in.

“Won’t they be here soon?”

“Not for at least twenty minutes.” The slippery noises your movements make as he starts to leak echo off all the stainless steel and sound almost amplified in the empty space. It’s just warm enough in the kitchen for your brain to flirt with the idea of calling the whole thing off and spending the night here. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the clock run out on you.”

You can feel his grip on his doubts loosening with every deliberate stroke, and soon he’s bucking into your hand as much as the space between you and the counter will let him.

Jack’s posture sags as he relaxes against you, the sudden movement nearly bobbing him close enough to dip his tip into the soup.

“Keep moving around like that and you’ll burn yourself.”

“Sorry.” He sounds a million miles away from the ball of nerves you found a few minutes ago.

“On your toes. You’re making a mess.” And he does, of course, so you have a proper angle to aim him down at the bowl and prevent the twin rivulets of precum from sliding down your wrist onto his trousers. His mouth falls open when the first drops break the surface tension.

“That’s all I want you to focus on. You know you’ll do well, I know you’ll do well, just do this for me, okay?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Say it for me,” you croon softly into his ear, watching the goosebumps blossom down his neck when your lips graze it.

Jack’s head slumps to the side for a better look at you, but his irises are wandering like bumblebees and working against him.

“I’m focusing.” he slurs.

“I know, I know.” Your hand speeds up to match his breathing as he white knuckles the counter. It’s hard to keep your wrist steady when you feel his ass start tightening up.

“It’s gonna make a mess,” he gasps out.

“No it won’t. Stay still for me. You’ve got this. I know you do.”

Jack’s whole body tenses up, and his protests fade into little pants at your ambiguous encouragement. He throbs in your hand one, two, three, four times as you hold him just a whisper above the steaming bowl. No splash; the rest of him is trembling with the effort, but his hips stay locked in place to neatly spill into his meal.

As soon as his heels are back on solid ground, you’re stretching up to kiss right above his eyebrow. A hand cradling his jaw eases him back to reality.

“It’s a great speech.”

“It’s a great speech.” He can't stop himself from smiling, finally relaxed enough to let it reach his eyes.

-at the table-

From the beginning you’d insisted Jack should speak after you; he was much better at settling everyone into dinner conversation following your more formal remarks. Of course, your guests are utterly captivated by him; he manages to get even your sternest donors chuckling in under five minutes. So captivated, in fact, that you’re free to ogle at him from the other end of the table without worry. You’re crossing and recrossing your legs watching his mouth move, realizing for the first time tonight how fucking hungry you are. When the soup is served, you scarcely blink watching his first mouthful. He stares back just as entranced, completely forgetting his table manners and using his thumb to swipe an errant drop into his mouth.

[squid-ice]

day 1: living together

[snakenoodlesoup]

Or

*big stretch* *sidestitch* ough

*big stretch* *gets lightheaded* ough

[mermaidslabyrinth]

I know it's a day late but: Happy Nameday, Rhagerys!

Have some smooches from your baby sisters!

I want to cry. This is such a lovely gift. You didn’t have to. I have such a big grin on my face. Also, you’re not late, a gift from you, I would accept it anytime. I feel words don’t even begin to describe how much this means to me. You took time out of your day to create this. To create my OC with his sweet sisters, I am forever grateful for this absolutely lovely piece of art. I will treasure it. 

In conclusion:

Honestly...that was me when I opened up my inbox.

[resistantecho]

Reaction Picture and GIF Feel free to use 😊

[deadlysoupy]

when imagining a fic is more fun than actually writing one

[snakenoodlesoup]

I love when my cursed ideas induce loud silence from my friends

[theangelcatalogue]

CHICKEN SOUP/KIPPENHOK RTC TALIA/TALYA FOOTAGE!!

[3-aem]

my cat has, after many attempts, still been unable to catch onto the fact that when i point i am trying to show him where the toy is.

but has learned very quickly that if he stands under the fridge when i open it there is a possibility, however slim and inconsistent, that cheese may fall on him.

[nireey]

The pure horror on Joowon's face when Dongsik invites him to eat fugu soup will never not be funny.

[lobotomy-lady]

the funniest thing to me rn is that I've actually legitimately done more for men (and women of course) via my job as a crisis counselor than any of these Tumblr MRAs have put together, but they'll still call me an evil manhater just bc I don't censor my venting or water down the not so man friendly feminist opinions I hold on my niche blog. I mean wow it's almost like words women say online have virtually no affect on men's material conditions in real life ! imagine that

[dalniente]

Fact 1: You have very strong opinions about bookkeeping systems. 2 Your ceiling cat has no tail. 3 You have excellent taste in tattoos

It's true!! xD Listen, QuickBooks Online is objectively, categorically terrible in every conceivable way. I'm sure some people think otherwise, but that's okay, they're allowed to be wrong. QBO was the earliest example of enshittification I ran into, way back in 2013, and the ONLY way in which it has improved since then is that they recently made a change that allows the user to sort transaction detail reports by values without exporting the report to Excel first. IN ACCOUNTING SOFTWARE. IT'S 2024. If your software requires the user to use DIFFERENT, TOTALLY UNRELATED SOFTWARE, especially for something as fundamentally fucking basic as "sort big to small," then your software is TRASH GARBAGE and you should be fired OUT OF A CANNON AND INTO THE SUN. And I STILL have to export to Excel to do complex sorting and filtering because if you click wrong in "modern view," the thing freaks out. You can't even use your browser's "back" button without QuickBooks forgetting what you were doing!

Just use Xero instead. It does basically all the same stuff as QBO, but Xero is designed to actually be used by humans, not just look pretty for sales pitches.

Tattoo taste is subjective (unlike the user experience design of QuickBooks Online) but I'm glad you like mine! I'm getting another one on Wednesday and I'm excited. Gonna be a bird! I gave the artist a choice of two (chestnut-sided warbler or white-fronted amazon parrot, one on each inner calf) and he was interested in doing both; I'm not sure which he's going to do this time.

here is my ceiling cat with his Halloween axe! you can kind of see his funny bunny butt, he was born this way:

[professor-rock]

His greed sickens me...

[korbinmoon]

[part 2]

The kid wanted to check where The Batch has been travelling to, but messed up their computer :D