#I drew the cops for once :)

[pyonicpyro]

I had a headache while drawing this

[thegreatyin]

is it a hottake to say we need to stop cancelling things for the audacity of having someone working on them do something twitter users find morally objectionable. "the art director of this thing draws weird furry porn" yeah and good for them?? what does that have to do with my enjoyment of this entirely unrelated piece of fiction

[solargeist]

Uo shoul d watch the episodes of yhs g was in and then draw tcd scar with yhs g because I think it's a good part of his backstory

I watched YHS completely when I was like 16/17 and it haunts me sometimes 😭

I don’t include YHS in Grian’s backstory, just Evo !

[pastriibunz]

I would just like to state that Kai IS aware of the audience in every piece of media she’s in so she DOES break the fourth wall often

BUT

she doesn’t do this in any of the Hatchetfield musicals as herself at least, in TKWDLM she does break the fourth wall when infected but I’M NOT COUNTING THAT BECAUSE IT BARELY WAS KAI EXCEPT npmd

so you’d be watching a scene with Kai in it and then suddenly she turns to the audience/camera and it’s just:

Real talk that shit would make me crack up

[pyrrhiccomedy]

This is my cat.

His name is Eddie Potato.

Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.

[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]

We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.

This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.

He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.

The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.

Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.

He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.

We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.

Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.

I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.

Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.

After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.

And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.

Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.

What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.

"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.

He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!

It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.

I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.

Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.

[cosmicdahlias]

🌶️ford pines x reader headcanons🌶️

part 4

minors dni

• enjoys just looking at your body when you fuck and is genuinely stunned by it every time like it’s his first time seeing it

• loves to light candles to set the mood. thinks you look so beautiful illuminated by the soft glow

• absolutely loses it when you look up at him while he’s fucking you

• sometimes when he hugs you from behind he presses his bulge up against your ass

• when he doesn’t have work to do he loves spending all day in bed buried inside you

• loves watching his cum drip out of you

• secretly into cnc. afraid to tell you

• when he cums he is LOUD

• had sex dreams about you before you started dating. woke up rock hard and had to take care of it just to go back to sleep

• will not hesitate to clear a table to bend you over on

• loves when you get on top, gets twice as hard from the view

• always telling you how good you feel

“god, y/n. you feel so warm and tight.”

• very thick, lowkey hurts your jaw when you suck him off

• loves to give you punishingly slow strokes making you shake and plead for him to go faster, he holds out at first because he loves watching you beg

• has two modes. either gentle passionate love making or brutal aggressive fucking. you love both

• sometimes you tease him by rubbing his cock over his pants. drives him wild

• buys you lingerie. thinks you look so beautiful in it

• one time you bit down on his shoulder so hard while you were cumming that you drew blood, he came instantly

• loves mutual masturbation, watching you touch yourself is so hot to him

• owns a pair of handcuffs that he stole from an interdimensional cop. uses them on you when he fucks you from behind

• a game you like to play is having him read out loud while you suck him off and see how long he can keep it together without moaning or losing focus

• there’s no greater feeling to him than when you cum around his cock

• loves when you grip his hair while he eats you out

• wraps his hand around your neck while you ride him

• fucks you first thing in the morning and then serves you breakfast in bed

• had phone sex with you whenever he could get reception on his adventures with stan

• you did a strip tease for him and his jaw did not leave the floor

• makes you take his fingers in your mouth after he fingers you

• worships you the entire time. does not stop telling you how gorgeous you are

“fuck baby you’re so beautiful, i could look at you forever”

• once tried to see how many times he could make you orgasm in an hour “for research”. you were a shaking writhing mess by the end of it

[fallrafwe]

,,OBSESSED”

a/n: this is based off a request 😍🥰 also i might’ve put some parts that were inspired when drew was in a short film called up the hill 🤷 sorry for taking days to write this im having hard times and i struggle writing sometimes

warnings: dark!rafe, strong language, NONCON, piv, unprotected sex, baby trapping, choking, hair pulling, fake orgasm, cream pie, fingering, edging/orgasm denial

summary: dark!rafe and pogue!reader never truly get along so rafe decides to teach her a lesson

After meeting Rafe for the first time, he started talking to you all the time, you met him at a party, but you have no idea why he seemed to like you, you were a Pogue and working two jobs. Making time for him was the hardest thing to do, two different schedules everyday. He always insults you about not making time for him, manipulating you or gaslighting you, even going as far as to hurt you if you didn’t take a day off, he wouldn’t even care if it got you fired, whatever he wanted, he would get, he made sure of it, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

Coercing you to have sex with him was always a common thing, and you couldn’t even care anymore. You did it just so he would leave you alone. He could ask you to do it somewhere, and even if you weren’t in the mood, you would do it anyways. Today though, it was a bit different. Rafe had knocked on your door on your day off, “Rafe? What the hell are you doing here?” you asked. He didn’t respond, just bumping your shoulder as he walked in. You scoffed at his carelessness, “Okay, Rafe, you can’t just fucking walk in here whenever the hell you want!” you yelled, closing the door and going after him as he headed for the kitchen.

He caught you by surprise when he turned around, and grabbed your wrist. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, talking to me like that, drop the fuckin’ attitude.” He said, glaring into your eyes as he towered over you. The height difference made you intimated, as well as his tight grip. “Okay. Can you please just get the fuck out?” You said, trying your best not to say anything too bad, but still wanting him to leave. He shook his head and shoved you against the wall, your front facing the wall. He brought your arm to your back and pulled it to the side, making you shout in pain, “Ow, ow, Rafe! Stop!” you yelled the best you could, your face being squished against the wall.

“You’re a fuckin’ Pogue, so learn your place, yeah? Y’need some dick in you to learn?” He laughed quietly as you struggled beneath him. You writhed as you eventually worked up the courage to bring your foot up and kick him, making him fall back slightly. He exhaled as you ran to the front door, staying there before you pulled out your phone, “Get the fuck out, or I’m calling the cops, Rafe! I’m not joking!” you screamed. Each time he took a step, you turned away from him with caution, making sure he didn’t leave your view. He nodded, “Call the cops and see what happens.”

His hand twisted the door knob, opening the door and walking out. How could he make a threat right before he left? Rafe was a fucking psychopath and you should’ve known that right when you met him. You took a deep breath in relief, running over to the door to lock it. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, that was your worst interaction with Rafe yet, and you didn’t know what to expect next, but you didn’t wanna be near him to find out.

So you didn’t go near him, you ignored his texts, his calls, and not once had he come to your house. You were at the point of relaxation, not caring what he had to say to you, he was not one of your priorities. You could work without having him beg you to take off, try to hurt you or manipulate you. For once in your life, you felt free from the grasp he had on you. He was obsessed over you, sometimes it felt like you had more control over him, but you knew that was never true. Rafe would do anything for you to stay with him, for you to hook up with him, and today proved it.

Three huge bangs came from your front door, the sound reminded you of knocking, but with the side of somebody’s fist. The loud thudding didn’t stop til you answered the door, and there you saw Rafe standing in front of you. Your jaw was dropped, but that’s how both of you were on the couch, you straddling his lap and kissing him passionately. His tongue was fighting yours, making you moan into the kiss. You could feel his bulge pressing into your clit, you felt disgusted but continued anyways. A hand traveled up your waist, resting on your tit, you felt it squeeze which made you take your mouth off his. “Rafe, look, I’m not in the mood, okay?” You breathed heavily as he stared into your eyes, he took his other hand and pushed your head against his, continuing to make out with you.

His hand went up higher, eventually resting on your throat. You felt him lightly squeeze, you brought your hand to his and led his hand to your cheek, letting it rest there instead. You guys continued to make out until he took his hand and placed it on your throat once more, you pulled out of the kiss to tell him to stop. Once you did, his grip tightened. “What are you doing? Stop!” You said, trying your best to pull his hand off. His dark, blue eyes stared into your eyes, and this was one of the many times you truly felt scared of him. “What? Can’t breathe?” He asked, tilting his head sideways barely as he looked at you struggle, it felt like your airway was closing in on you, and it practically was. “Rafe— Rafe, stop.” You managed to get out, your hands clawing at his, it only made him squeeze tighter.

“Stand up.” He said, the demanding tone could be heard in his voice. You could barely hear him, everything was like ringing in your ears. A quick slap brought you back, and you could feel a hand being taken off your throat. You were shoved off his lap, falling on the floor then standing up quickly. His presence made you quake as he turned you around and led you to a table, one hand forced your head down as he worked his belt with his free hand, the belt was then used to tie your wrists together, acting as a pair of handcuffs. The fact he did this with ease made you wonder how he could do it, did he practice with others? Has he done this before? That was something you never doubted. The fabrics rustling made you sob.

“Rafe, stop, please!” you yelled. His response was almost immediate, “Shut the fuck up, don’t wanna hear y’talk unless it’s those sweet noises, yeah?” he said carelessly. The whole interaction had you scared shitless, how rough was he gonna be? Was he gonna hold back? Was he gonna do anything else? It had your heart beating through your ears, anticipating his next move. The feeling of his tip rushing through your entrance made you cry out in pain, the burning sensation of him stretching you out made you want to die. It took no time for him to start plowing into you, his hand starting to grip your hair tightly, pulling your head back. “Fuck, this pussy s’fucking sweet, just f’me,” the way he slurred his words made you think he was pussy drunk already.

The burning sensation had you sobbing, tears staining your cheek as they dropped down onto the wooden table. His thrusting only got more aggressive, the way he moved made you so uncomfortable, and the way he did this without giving it a second thought, you knew he took things far, but not this far. Your only option to escape was to fake your release, just to make him stop, since he always wore a condom, it made this even worse. Moans filled the air, but you weren’t thinking straight, so you weren’t able to distinguish if they were real or fake, it felt like every time he thrusted he was hitting your cervix, which could explain the desperate moans as he continued. “Yeah? Y’like the way I fuck your pussy, huh? Such a fuckin’ slut, just for me, too.”

Wetness burned through your pussy, beating you at your own game. Realizing you liked this made you sick, so you didn’t wanna have an orgasm, or else you would feel even more pathetic than you already felt. Your pussy pulsated around his cock, making him groan, his grip on your hair only getting tighter. At this point, he was recklessly pounding into you, the only thing that mattered to him right now was his pleasure, partially yours too, his ego was too big, so if you came because of him, it only boosted it more, knowing how good his sex game was. “You gonna fuckin’ cum on my cock, hm?” He asked, you nodded, knowing you were lying. Your movements were practically forced by yourself, and you expected him to not know.

Rafe’s cock twitched in your pussy as it squeezed around him, pulling him in. He let loose of your hair, putting both of his hands on your waist and gripping. “S’fucking close, gonna cum in you.” All of a sudden, everything you were doing was ceased. You felt a pit in your stomach, “What?” you asked, and you only did so because you thought Rafe was joking, you thought he was gonna play it off as a joke, that was exactly what you were hoping for. “You heard me.” He said, giving you more thrusts before eventually letting his cum fill you, riding out his orgasm in your pussy. Your eyes were squeezed tight, “Rafe, Rafe, what the fuck did you do?” you whispered. You felt him pull out, the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of your entrance. “You didn’t wanna follow what the fuck I say, I’m not gonna follow what you say. If you just— just fucking listened to me, I wouldn’t have done that.”

His hands pulled you up, turning you around so your back was on the table, you felt his hands feeling around your body. His head leaned in towards your neck as his left hand cupped your cunt, “I know you didn’t cum. So you’ll give me as many as I want, alright?” his boxers and pants were already pulled up, making you glad. Thoughts were already racing about what you were gonna do about it, his words made your body shiver. Tears filled your waterline as he started fingering you with both his ring finger and middle finger, his fingers were curling up, hitting your g-spot. A moan slipped out of your lips as he worked his fingers. Your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him in closer, boosting his ego was the last thing you wanted to do, but it felt so good, you needed more. He was pushing his cum back inside you as he moved in and out, tears running to the sides of your face.

You were right on the edge, recognized by your squeamish body movements and loud, pornographic moans. Rafe pulled his fingers out, a loud gasp escaping your lips, you tugged on his hand with one of your own, “You want me to keep going ?” he asked. Your head nodded, “Okay. Tell me you’ll keep the baby.” he said, without any emotion at all. You were unsure, and you didn’t want a baby, but it was Rafe. He was a fucking psychopath and you already knew if you tried to get rid of it anyways that he would do insane things, he’ll ruin you for life. He could tell you were hesitant about saying it, hell, you were hesitant about even seeing him again after this, but he would force his way into your life anyways. However, during sex you acted like a completely different person, so your subconscious answered for you, “Fuck, okay.”

Even if you couldn’t see it, you knew he was smirking as he dipped his fingers back into your aching cunt that was already painted with his cum. Your head kept nodding as he kept going, you were lost in a state of pleasure, the way he pressures his fingers against your g-spot made you think you were going insane. His hand moved faster and faster until you let loose all over his fingers, moaning loudly as he let you ride your orgasm out. Your arousal was evident when he pulled his fingers out, “Was crying f’me to stop, now look at you.” he said, laughing softly. He looked at you and shoved his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Your tongue instinctively sucked on them, he grabbed your jaw as you did, “I’m staying here with you, every fuckin’ night. You’re keeping that fucking baby.” he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and took his hand off your jaw.

The way he talked to you like you were a dog who had to follow their owners every command scared you, he was only doing that so he wouldn’t leave you, but maybe that was what you wanted. You wanted him to force you into doing everything you didn’t want, you needed him in your life, or maybe it was due to all of his gaslighting and manipulating to think that he was all you needed. It wasn’t though, you just needed to be away from him.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Just found this artist over Twitter and I am in love with their works. They also drew the manga ‘lock on’. It’s about a girl who has a crush on a cop that saved her when she was 10. The cop was 20. Anyway since then she’s been pursuing him but he always said “maybe when you are older lol”

Then, once she was 20, she ALSO became a cop and just kept asking him to be her WIFE

Also, bonus, the guy is 185 and the girl is 192. They are both tall as fuck ngl.

Their username is @923disk @meiyoon

[crushpunky]

halloween special (aka what everyone is wearing for halloween :))

masterlist

drew x actress!reader - sabrina carpenter and (horny) cop

complete with “fuzzy pink handcuffs” and white platforms

drew didn’t really care about dressing up, but once y/n said she wanted to be sabrina, he knew exactly what he had to do

drew x singer!reader - sandy and danny

finish the night with a stunning rendition of “you’re the one that i want”

drew x childhood best friend!reader - rapunzel and flynn rider

the both of them went all out: y/n wearing a super long wig, drew growing out his facial hair, and even buying uber detailed costumes

rafe x kook!reader - padme and anakin

y/n initially wanted to do challengers, herself as tashi, rafe as patrick, kelce as art, and topper as the tennis ball (he was surprisingly enthusiastic about it), but rafe said absolutely not

finally decided they were going to go as star wars for the thousandth time, with herself as padme, rafe as anakin, kelce as luke, and topper as han

rafe x toxic!reader - patrick bateman and patrick bateman

they didn’t want to do a traditional couples costumes, so they decided to both dress up as their own versions of the same costume

rafe x girlfriend!reader - hercules and meg

y/n loves halloween and rafe loves whatever y/n loves

rafe spent the whole night parading around his beautiful girlfriend, lifting her up as “part of his character”, but in reality he really just wanted to show her off

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

okay okay rapid fire spider-verse thots fresh out of the theater, trying to minimize spoilers but jesus

da Vinci-looking Vulture... very cool

the art on Gwen's earth in general is SO cool

in general the animators were just SHAMELESSLY showing off with this one and it rules so hard

Rio Morales animated milf of all time

truly do not understand what all of you see in Miguel tbh that man suuuuuucks!! kill!!

Peter B is also on my shit list tbh. Gwen going along with this is understandable, she's literally a homeless teenager in a bad position to fight against adult spiders making decisions, but Peter... come on dude...

truly they HAD to leave Pav out of the middle of the movie because he would have sided with Miles (you think he would want Inspector Singh to die!! fuck no!!) and he's perfect so he would have just effortlessly swept the floor with every other spider-person

Gwen is flirtatiously trans coded and responds to Spider-Man at least once, congrats to her on the fun gender

Jessica's design is so cool but they made her such a cop... god I hope she's coming around in the next movie

cannot wait to see gifs of this movie slowing down every frame to point out every individual background spider-person

the fucking. the family of it all. Miles' parents afraid to let him grow up and Gwen's dad unable to accept the truth about his daughter and Miguel trying to raise a daughter who wasn't supposed to be his and Peter B's baby girl and Jessica Drew's visible baby bump and the spiders' collective miserable certainty that they are DEFINED by the trauma of losing someone they love.

something something Miles' parents and the spider society have the same problem - being afraid of change from what they thought was The Right Way To Do Things - but Miles' parents love and trust him to make the right choices beyond their understanding while Miguel and the other spiders are too hurt by their own traumas to imagine someone else thriving without it

also fuck all of them the boy's uncle died in front of him after trying to kill him HAS HE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH

Hobie's soooo annoying (affectionate) but also right about, like, literally everything AND good with babies to boot

the whole ending is so ‼️‼️‼️‼️

the thing with Miles and Uncle Aaron at the end... you know the thing... DELICIOUS au right there tell me everything about that shit

the fucking end man

I've NEVER been in a theater where everyone collectively screamed @ the end of a movie fuck fuck fuck. there's cliffhangers and then there's THIS

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training XI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. Your breathing was shaky and far too heavy, and your chest felt way too tight. The air on your face felt much cooler from the tears that soaked your skin, and you swore that you felt the sheets rip beneath your fingers. You knew for a fact that your other hand was pressing into Peter’s arm so hard that it drew blood.

He didn’t seem to mind though.

Peter was way more preoccupied with the feel of you. Through a tearful gaze, you watched him throw his head back, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly inhaled. You couldn’t stop trembling, half in disbelief and half wanting to rip your hair out. The feel of Peter’s cock inside of you had lessened to a dull pulsing feeling between your legs, and when you shifted, you both hissed.

…but for different reasons.

When Peter finally opened his eyes, he lowered his head to gaze at you. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you had a feeling that your expression reflected what you felt inside. Peter’s expression fell some, and he blinked at you, frowning slightly before leaning down to brush his lips over yours.

“You’re okay,” he softly told you. “You’re okay.”

“No,” you finally choked out, finding your voice after some time. “I’m not.”

You dug your nails harder into his skin, not out of malice, but more so as a means to ground yourself. To hold onto something, because you felt completely out of control, like you were floating aimlessly, and the thought made more tears escape.

“Peter, please stop,” you shakily breathed, your gaze pleading as you looked into his dark eyes. “Please…”

You let the sheets go to press your hand into his chest, pushing hard, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he gripped your wrist, briefly squeezing it before gently pinning it to the bed. He leaned in some more, the action causing his hips to move just a tad, and you were suddenly strongly reminded of the presence of him inside of you.

You pressed your lips together, a whine escaping as you drew more blood. Peter hissed at the action, but he didn’t seem all that upset. When you looked closely enough, you could see the ghost of a smile on his pink lips, and he gently pressed his forehead to yours. His breathing was loud in your ear, and Peter briefly closed his eyes.

“I really wanted this day to be a happy one for you,” he slowly told you, sounding almost…disappointed. “It should be, after all.”

Peter leaned in to kiss your trembling lips again.

“Steve can be an asshole, sometimes…but I won’t let him ruin this.”

He kissed along your jaw and towards your neck, and you didn’t know how to tell him that he was making this day worse. The feel of him on you, in you, was making you emotional beyond comprehension. When Peter kissed you again, he slowly pulled his hips back, making you sharply gasp, and you hated the way your hips lifted too…like he was pulling you with him, attached by a string.

When he drove himself into you again, torturously slow, you dragged your nails down his arm. You could feel yourself leaving bloody streaks with the action, and Peter only groaned. You didn’t know if it was from that or from the feel of you wrapped tightly around him. He was so quiet for a while at first, just slowly pushing into you and fully immersing himself in what you felt like.

However, once your lack of reaction became apparent, that changed.

“Open up for me, pretty girl,” he murmured, letting your wrist go to reach down and rest his hand on your thigh.

He pushed on it, making your legs widen, and you couldn’t swallow down your sharp exhale. Peter completely ignored your hands on him as you tried to push him away, curving his hips into yours and stretching you out with every thrust. Every push of his cock became easier and smoother than the last, and you hated it.

At least, you thought you did.

You didn’t like that Peter was on top of you, trapping you between his body and the bed. You didn’t like that your senses were completely invaded by the smell and feel and sound of him. You hated that he was inside of you, his cock pushing into you and stroking your walls in a way that made you shudder. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t ignore the heat that settled deep in the pit of your gut.

You told yourself that it was your body’s natural reaction. As much as you liked to think you were so far removed from your baser instinct, you were an animal. A homo sapiens, but an animal nonetheless, and your body was going to react to certain things no matter how you personally felt. That was easy enough to accept and tell yourself, but when Peter ran his hand up your stomach, fingers gliding between your breasts, you couldn’t hold in your whimper.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” Peter whispered. “Perfect. Like you were made for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and Peter tutted.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he softly pleaded. “Let me see you…”

He plunged into you with a particularly hard thrust, holding himself there as your back arched.

“Please,” he begged. “Show me those pretty eyes.”

His hand was on your face, thumb softly brushing over your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding from him as he continued to fuck you. Your hand clutched his back, and for some reason, his gentle and loving words made you cry harder. Maybe you wanted him to be mean? Cruel? Although, you supposed that he was already being that, wasn’t he? Perhaps you wanted him to be more like Steve that day in the yard.

The sight of his rough movements and Margaret was burned into your brain. It was a memory that struck you frozen and cold with fear, but at least if Peter was like that, it would be so much easier to hate him. You didn’t want him to be gentle with you, his touch almost loving in nature like you were some couple making love after a day apart.

You hated that it was making you feel good, driving you towards the edge.

You’d stopped crying, a little too horrified with what you felt happening. You could feel that familiar coil tighten in your stomach, strings attached to it that pulled at every nerve in your body. Your breathing started to hitch, and when Peter’s hand slid to your neck, he pushed you back down onto the bed, preventing you from hiding your face. On instinct, your hands reached up, clasping onto his wrist, and your eyes flew open.

Your tearful eyes met his enraptured ones, and Peter couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It was like he didn’t want to look away, didn’t want to miss a single expression on your face as he brought his tongue between his lips. He was slow to sheath himself inside of you again and again, and when you lifted your hips, your entire body tensing up, he sighed, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let go, pretty girl. Let go.”

You didn’t want to, fighting it and trying to starve it off for as long as you could.

Peter could tell.

“Nuh uh,” he breathed. “None of that…”

“Peter,” you murmured, almost pleadingly.

“No, no, let go,” he urged, hand tightening on your throat. “Relax and let go. It’s okay.”

You pressed a hand to his lower stomach, trying to stop his thrusts, and Peter mirrored you, pressing his own hand into your stomach hard and making you gasp. You could feel yourself tensing more, seizing up and gasping for breath as your orgasm crawled over you, slowly filling you and taking control until you were a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Good girl,” he quietly drawled. “Look at you…doing so good for me.”

His hand was still on your throat, squeezing and holding you in place while you rode out your climax underneath him, clenching down onto him.

“Just like that,” you heard him say. “Deep breaths…”

When the stars behind your eyes started to fade, Peter finally came back into focus. He was still lazily thrusting into you, fucking you through it, and when he slowed to a stop, you realized that he hadn’t come, at all. He was still hard when he pulled out of you, and the feel made you shudder. You kept your gaze on the ceiling as he kissed you, slow and long, before finally pulling away.

Absentmindedly, you could hear him going into the bathroom, and it wasn’t long before the sound of running water reached your ears. He wasn’t inside of you anymore, but you swore you could still feel him there, still feel that dull ache of his cock in you. You only just realized how cold you felt despite the light sheen of sweat that coated your skin. You shakily reached up, hands covering yourself just as Peter returned.

He was gentle in grabbing them, pulling you to your feet, and you closed your eyes when he pressed his lips to your forehead. Peter wrapped his arms around you as he guided you into the bathroom, and you felt so removed from your body as he pressed his chest to your back. You’d crossed the inevitable line with Peter, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Easy,” he warned, helping you into the bathtub, the hot water jolting you back into reality. “It’s hot.”

You clung to the arm that was around you as he lowered you both into the water. It had the strong scent of oils and soap, and Peter forced you to lean your head back against his shoulder. You were all too aware of his naked body against your equally naked one, hands running over you as he grabbed the loofah. The memory of him inside of you made you tremble, but his soft touch as he cleaned the sweat from your body had the opposite effect.

You could feel Peter pressing his face into your hair as he cleaned you, almost inaudible praises leaving his lips.

“You were so good…you know that?”

You didn’t respond, watching him clean the inside of your thighs.

“You felt better than I even imagined.”

You got the feeling that you were supposed to be flattered.

…but all you wanted to do was cry.

So, you did.

Peter hummed at the sound, pulling you closer and making soft shushing noises.

“I know,” he softly comforted you.

Hot water dripped over your skin as he squeezed the loofah.

“It’s okay to feel good, Y/N…to let me make you feel good,” he continued. “You’re mine, after all, and I take good care of everything that belongs to me.”

Those words caused an internal conflict within you, torn between a deep sense of shame and disgust��and a small sliver of relief. Peter would take care of you. He’d said that many times, including now, and there was something in you that just wanted to let him. After all, he protected you from Steve, and, as the blond had so eloquently pointed out, held your hand through this entire ordeal.

It would be favorable if he wasn’t the reason you were here to begin with.

“Didn’t I take good care of you…?” he wondered, voice lowering. “Hmm?”

You nodded when he pressed you for an answer, your cheek resting on his chest as you turned your head. Peter held you to him, playing with your hair, and when he spoke again, you shuddered.

“Things will be so much easier for you when you let me.”

When…not if. The distinction made your heart sink, because as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew it was only a matter of when, not if, and you blinked as a few more tears escaped. Peter squeezed more water onto you, and when his free hand tilted your chin up, you knew that he wanted a kiss.

When you woke up, the feel of fingertips dragging over the skin of your back was the only thing you could focus on. It was a soothing feeling, something that almost lulled you back to sleep, but the knowledge of who the hand belonged to prevented you from doing so. A shudder traveled down your spine, and he hummed.

Peter fucked you well into the night. After he’d pulled you from the water, he’d pulled you into another kiss, and the water on your skin dampened the bed when he laid you down. Peter was determined to taste every part of you, and you would’ve thought that he didn’t have the rest of your lives to do that. It overwhelmed you, forcing you to freeze up several times as he covered your mouth with his own.

In the rare moments that panic broke through, forcing you to cry and fight against him, Peter was calm in holding you down until you quieted. He seemed to have an abundance of patience as he held himself inside of you, watching you cry and waiting for it to be over. When he finally did come inside of you, you’d been coming undone beneath him for the third time. His fingers had been threaded with yours, holding them down as his teeth scraped along your neck.

The sounds that left him were animalistic, a stark contrast from the words he murmured moments later.

“My pretty girl,” he’d whispered. “All mine.”

It was so confusing to be comforted and looked after by the same hands that held you down. It was mind bending to cry as Peter forced pleasure on you, and then to cry some more as he held you and stroked your face. He was your source of torment and also your only source of comfort. Who else would you cry to if not him? Who else would you safely and comfortably confide in if not him?

The feel of lips on the side of your face pulled you from your thoughts, and you slowly blinked. Your entire body ached, and even if you wanted to move, you didn’t think that you could. He brushed his lips over your temple and then your cheek and jaw before they finally grazed the corner of your mouth. You could feel his hand kneading into your waist through the sheet.

You didn’t even know what time it was, and faintly, you wondered about breakfast.

As if your mind had decided to bring your thoughts to life, there was a knock on the door. The sound of it made you jump, and you looked towards the door with wide eyes as if somehow knowing exactly who was on the other side. Peter noticed your discomfort, softly shushing you and rubbing your arm as he sat up. When he made his way towards the door, more decent, now, you blanched at the sight of his back.

You hadn’t remembered doing that, at all, and your eyes drifted to your fingernails…and the slight dried blood beneath them.

“Is there any reason she’s not downstairs with the rest?”

Steve’s voice was as cold and stern as ever, making you shrink in on yourself, twisting your hands into the sheet. Peter stood in the opening of the cracked door, completely blocking you from view, and you swallowed. You’d overslept? The thought made your heart race, and in all the times you’d screwed up, you’d never flat out overslept and missed your duties.

You struggled to sit up, fear and worry filling you just as Peter spoke.

“She’s indisposed for the day, Steve,” Peter told him, shocking you. “Making her work would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

Peter’s tone was light, teasing, but both you and Steve knew there was a strong hint of truth there.

“It’s not like she couldn’t use more of that,” the blond replied, making you frown. “…but alright.”

He paused, and you were unable to see any kind of visual exchange between them.

“I’m glad to hear that either way,” Steve evenly said, but there was a lilt in his voice that told you his sentiments were genuine.

Peter’s gaze met yours when he shut the door, turning to face you with a small smile. You must’ve been wearing your confusion because when he reached you, he took your face into his hands, gently kissing you.

“You’ve had a long night. Of course, I wouldn’t let you do anything other than…rest,” he said, a small smile dancing along his lips as he drank you in.

You noticed the way his gaze lingered on the top of the sheet, his eyes tracing your skin.

“You feeling okay…?”

What a loaded question.

You knew what Peter meant, of course. Did you feel hurt? Unwell? Concerningly sore? However, your mind could only drift to your captivity and how alone you felt and how even if you wanted to find comfort in any of the other women here, you couldn’t. Your every move outside of this room was watched, scrutinized, leaving the only place to fully cope…with Peter.

“I’m okay,” you finally whispered, addressing what you knew he meant.

“Good,” he whispered, kneeling before you and taking your chin in his fingers. “I want you to be okay.”

You warily eyed him as he looked between your eyes.

“I know you remember what I showed you when you first got here…with Steve and…”

Peter trailed off, and you sharply inhaled, blinking.

“I want you to know that that…that’ll never be us. At least…I hope not,” he was quick to add. “I think you’d have to do something pretty heinous for me to ever resort to that.”

Peter held your gaze as he said this, tone sincere, and he stroked your skin.

“When I touch you…it won’t be like that. I don’t want you to be in pain, to be hurting. I’ll always only want to ever make you feel good,” he whispered.

You looked down at that, gaze finding the floor.

“Steve doesn’t agree.”

There was a heavy silence at your words, both of you recalling what the blond had thrown at Peter the night before. If Steve had it his way, Peter would’ve tied you to that same tree and debased you in front of half the household. There was a part of you that was convinced he’d still force Peter to do that one day, but if you could count on Peter for anything, it was to protect you from Steve’s wrath.

“No…he doesn’t,” Peter eventually agreed. “…but you’re not his.”

You looked up at that, eyes meeting his.

“You’re mine.”

For the first time, those words didn’t make your stomach twist in discomfort. Instead, relief settled in your gut, grateful that you didn’t belong to Steve…but instead Peter. You swallowed and watched him as he stood, and you closed your eyes when his hand rested on the back of your head, cheek pressed to his stomach.

“You know that, now…right…?”

You recalled your angry words from last night, tearfully proclaiming that you didn’t want to belong to Peter. You recalled the slight pause, the way his eyes had glinted, the almost hint of hurt you saw there. Your gaze lowered to the ring on your hand, a symbol of that ownership, and as much as you hated the sight of it, something in you saw it as a shield.

A barrier between you and Steve’s ire, his unquenchable desire to break you down in the same way he’d done to Margaret.

You were Peter’s…and Steve couldn’t hurt you.

“Yes,” you finally answered Peter’s question, almost too quietly. “I know that.”

Peter’s hand under your chin tilted your head up, and he leaned in when his eyes met yours.

“Are you sure?”

Pressing your lips together, you reluctantly nodded.

You weren’t surprised when Peter kissed you again, but that didn’t mean you were eager when his hand drifted to your naked shoulder, trailing towards the sheet and fingering the material. You ducked your head, heart pounding as memories of last night assaulted you. Peter only rested his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin.

“I thought you said you were mine,” he murmured, and you felt him take your hand.

Pain flared in your finger as he squeezed the ring.

“I am,” you shakily assured him.

When he pulled away, his dark gaze met yours, only briefly, but it was enough.

Reluctantly, you didn’t turn away when he kissed you again, and when his arm snaked around your waist, you didn’t push it away no matter how much you wanted to. Peter was like a man starved as he laid you down, hovering over you as he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin.

You clenched your teeth when he wrapped his lips around one of your breasts, tears in your eyes at the conflicting emotions you felt. Peter raped you—he was raping you—and despite the horror and helplessness you did feel, you could only manage to tell yourself that it could be so much worse. He could be brutally taking you outside for all to see. He could be hurting you to the point of making you bleed, to the point of bruising you.

Peter could be so much worse, it was true, but he was still bad.

You kept telling yourself that, kept repeating it to yourself, but the way his hands danced over you didn’t feel bad. The way his lips left gentle kisses on your skin didn’t feel bad, at all. His soothing praises and his fingers on your face and his teeth scraping your neck, nothing about it felt bad even though you knew you didn’t want it.

You struggled to breathe as he thrust into you, hands on your waist and holding the lower half of you up as his knees pressed into the bed. Your hands slid along the bed as your gaze became fixated on the ceiling, fighting to hold in the moans you wanted to let out as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had you squirming against your will.

Your first orgasm snuck up on you, and you jerked beneath him, and like the night before, Peter was confident that you could take another. Your own hands covered his, trying to pry them off, the overstimulation making your senses go haywire.

“Peter, please-I can’t,” you breathlessly pleaded.

You needed a minute to breathe, to think, to wrap your head around how quickly you’d been forced into the inevitable chapter of your captivity that you thought—hoped you could avoid.

“Shh,” he softly soothed you. “I know you can, pretty girl.”

He had your hips pinned, and when you looked at him, the determination in his eyes to get what he wanted told you to just give up. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, sliding and digging into the mattress. Against your better judgement, you reached up to press your hands against his stomach, and Peter sucked his teeth.

“Stop,” he slowly drawled, one hand sliding up to press down just below your chest. “Stop it.”

“Peter-.”

“None of that,” he whispered, his dark eyes staring you down as he slowly pushed his cock into you. “Behave…and take it.”

You didn’t have a choice, something you already knew, but you still threw your head back, tears kissing your eyes. You could hear it every time he thrust into you, an embarrassing sound that made you squeeze your eyes shut. The hand just under your chest made it’s way to your neck, and Peter pressed his thumb to the front of your throat.

He leaned down, his body fully pressed to yours, now, and you opened your eyes, unsurprised to find his gaze already on you. He stared into your eyes as he dipped into you, his cock plunging into your walls as he made a home between your thighs. His thumb grazed your chin before completely swiping along your mouth, his other fingers still on your neck.

“I’m so glad I chose you…”

His thumb pulled your bottom lip down just a tad, another thrust making your toes curl.

“…and I know you will be too.”

[little-diable]

Hail Mary – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Well well well, we're back with the fucked up priest. He's just my fave to write, I ain't sorry. Don't like it, don't read it–remember that, please. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader had been sent to a monastery because her parents no longer endured having her around. But perhaps Priest Riddle will know how to handle her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, oral (m), orgasm denial, fucked up Priest Riddle, forced prayer, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.4k words)

picture from Pinterest, credit to original owner

“Would you call this spotless?” He towered over her, piercing eyes set on her tired, angry features. She didn’t reply, kept staring at the tall priest, who those she was surrounded by feared. The white collar around his neck seemed to grow tighter with every breath he took, impatiently waiting for the young woman to reply. 

“Speak!” His angry voice buzzed through her, leaving her trembling as she balled her hands into fists. She had been forced to join the monastery a month ago, as a young woman in her early twenties who seemed to lose her grip on reality. Doctors and priests had called her insane, guided by the devil–accusations that had forced her parents to send her to this godless place. 

“It’s clean, I scrubbed every inch.” Angry tears began to well up in her eyes. A humourless laugh left the man at her words, and with his lips pulled into a thin line, he pulled her off the ground. She fought against his grasp and tried to rip herself free, but the man didn’t react, he kept pulling her down the hallway.  

“Sister Jane told me you are a stubborn one. It’s time you finally learn to respect others.” She was tossed to the ground in the empty church, forcing a cry out of her as the cold nibbled on her limbs. (Y/n) was torn between anger, frustration, and fear, a deadly mixture she was about to fall victim to. 

“Pray for forgiveness, you will only stop once I’m satisfied. Start with your Hail Mary.” Her teeth drew blood as she sank them into her lower lip. She was determined, set on not giving in, no matter the pain that was undoubtedly awaiting her. The two kept holding eye contact for a few more seconds before an almost disappointed sigh left the man. 

“Remember that this is your own fault, (y/n).” Confusion tugged at her features as he came closer to her once again. She allowed herself to study him; he was undoubtedly handsome; she had tried to catch his attention for the past few days; and perhaps a small part of her had hoped that her protests and disrespectful behaviour would push her closer to him. 

“Show me your tongue.” (Y/n) blindly followed his command. Her uneasy eyes kept staring up at him as if he were the Messiah himself, a ruthless man she had mistaken for her saviour. Without another warning, the priest spat on her tongue, forcing her to swallow his saliva. “Sit down on the altar.”

He let go of her, forcing (y/n) to momentarily lose her balance before moving towards the altar carved from stone. Her body was trembling, shaking as if an earthquake kept buzzing through her. This was wrong; she knew that whatever was about to happen would be enough to call the cops on this place, but yet (y/n) didn’t care about any right or wrong; she wanted to be touched by him and would do whatever it takes to make it happen. 

“Part your legs.” She watched him sink down on the wooden bench placed in the first row, with his hands interlaced in his lap and the big cross dangling from his neck. Slowly, she parted her legs for him, knowing that her skirt was short enough to expose her already damp panties to his piercing eyes. 

“Touch yourself, (y/n).” It took her a second to set into motion, to let her fingers find their way to her panties. But before she could even begin to touch herself, the priest spoke up again. “We’ll try again with the Hail Mary. It’s best if you already start praying for forgiveness.” 

Her heart was in her throat, pounding as if she had been running for hours, chased by the darkness the tall man emanated. (Y/n) had to clear her throat as her fingers pushed her panties aside to expose her heat to his eyes. And with a trembling voice, she began praying.

“Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Her fingers circled her pulsing bundle, moving with enough pressure to draw a raspy moan from her that momentarily interrupted her prayer. The priest kept his eyes focused on her, flickering between her features and her cunt, drawing satisfied sounds from him she couldn’t hear. 

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” Her head rolled back, letting go of another moan as her fingers added more speed to their movements. She was too distracted by the intense feeling to notice him shuffling around, freeing his hardening cock. The ringed fingers (y/n) wanted to feel around her throat began to pump his cock, moving just as fast as her fingers. 

“Oh fuck, touch me, please, Father.” It felt as if she was begging for another chance to live, as if she were selling her soul to the Devil himself, about to sign a contract with her blood. The man only let go of a raspy chuckle, luring her further and further to the edge. 

“Why should I grant you this wish, (y/n)? You’ve been nothing but a disrespectful brat.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, staring at the man with dilated pupils and parted lips. For a second, her fingers stopped moving, trapped by his question, the danger dripping from his words. 

“I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, but I need you, please.” Not once had she begged this much before. Not once in her life had she spoken words that were this desperate. But at that moment she didn’t care, didn’t give in to the embarrassment that would normally flush through her. All she did was get lost in his eyes, the pupils that were filled with a colour so rich that even Eden would pale in comparison. 

“Not tonight, (y/n), not until you prove to me that you’re worthy of my touch.” Her fingers moved once again, driven by the need to give in and chase a blinding high that would rip her from this dimension. She kept staring at the man she wanted to feel closer, watching him pump his cock with fast movements she tried to match. It seemed as if he could tell that she was close, because just before she could tumble over the edge, he called her name, forcing her fingers to stop moving. 

“Come here, (y/n).” A whine left her as she stopped touching herself, fuelled by frustration as she felt her close orgasm letting go of her. With trembling limbs, she moved towards him, not daring to break their eye contact once. “Onto your knees, make me cum with your mouth.”

The words were enough to distract her from her frustration. She took hold of his twitching cock, pushed the tip past her lips, and sucked on the sensitive skin. His taste stuck to her tongue, leaving her moaning while bobbing her head. With every passing moment, she took more of him, choking around him whenever she got too eager. 

Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found her hair to guide her last movements, adding more speed while he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking, forcing his cock down her throat. Tears dripped down from her eyes, salty like the Dead Sea, like the tears Mary cried when her only son was crucified, dreadful moments that were no match to the bond (y/n) and the priest now formed.

With a raspy groan, the man came down her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop. She kept pumping him for a few more seconds before he pulled her off his cock. With his thumb, he wiped her remaining tears away before he redressed and rose to his feet. (Y/n) kept kneeling before him, waiting for him to push her through her own high–nothing but dreams he wouldn’t turn real, not tonight. 

“Kiss my shoe, thank me for this, and perhaps next week I’ll be more gracious and let you cum.”

[cultofdixon]

Haunted by what is forever told on our skin

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When the group found the prison, no one expected the past to come and haunt us all even if they don’t understand until life is re-written • ANGST/SFW • TW: PTSD / Past Abuse / Domestic Violence / Scars / Injuries / Past Attempt Mentioned / SH Scars

Requested by: Anon

“We found a place that we can make into our new home” Rick started. “We obviously need to fix a few things for the immediate future. But it’s got good walls”

“What is it?”

“It’s a prison, which I know sounds unsettling at first but once we take care of the walkers…it’s pretty golden” Rick finished and went to check on his family while the others started to pack up the vehicles knowing they will be leaving once he’s ready.

Daryl noticed Y/N stand still for a really long time for unknown reasons that started to concern him. But when she noticed him looking at her, she quickly picked up her pack and went to join Glenn and Maggie.

Odd…

They weren’t going to tackle the main prison just yet given the time of day. All they did was take out the walkers in the yard and get their cars within the gates before making camp for the night.

Y/N watched Carol go over to Daryl to give him what accounts for dinner with what they’ve got before turning her attention back toward the prison. This time catching the attention of someone more curious and willing to speak up.

“Have you been here before?” Beth questions Y/N, snapping her out of her thoughts as she gave her a concerned look.

“Like what, a prisoner?”

“No, just. Well yes and no”

“Not as a prisoner…more like. Visiting…loved ones…” Y/N frowns squeezing her hands together to avoid an anxious harmful habit that she knew she wouldn’t be able to do in front of them anyway.

“You think we killed them?” Glenn suddenly blurts as Maggie smacks him in the arm. “What? You’re telling me people survived the outbreak in that prison?”

“Don’t mean you have to ask somethin’ like that when you don’t know the rel—-“

“I haven’t…seen him in years. He could’ve been released or…executed for all I know. Only have seen him twice and the second time wasn’t…pretty” Y/N got up from the group, going to take a walk and clear her head on the matter. All while Maggie lectured Glenn about pushing boundaries.

When Daryl came back to the group with Carol, he noticed her absence immediately but as he scanned the surrounding area for her…he watches Rick make his way over to her given he hasn’t stopped walking the perimeter since they’ve gotten inside.

Y/N stared at a walker gnawing at the fence from the other end trying to reach for her. She stepped closer to the fence rolling her sleeve up and testing fate when the voice in her head told her to stop, as well as the voice behind her.

“What’s wrong” Rick asked with a concern look on his face when she turned toward him. With the light from his flashlight he noticed the scars that littered her arms making her instantly cover them. He knows as a cop not to trigger the situation further, even if most cops tend to do that anyway. But he’s not like most. “You want to scout with me? Don’t have to be in the mess of people for a moment”

“Mess of people?” Y/N laughs slightly. “You know you’re including your wife and son in that mix”

“I do…” Rick frowns, now walking with Y/N around the place. “Honestly we’ve all done something stupid and yet I’m paying for it the most given the silence I’m receiving from Lori”

“…You know, don’t you?”

Rick didn’t utter another word but gave her a look that confirmed it all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner”

“Well, I still don’t know you. Not a stranger. But still not enough to share something like that” Rick shrugs. “I’m not mad at you”

“Right…still. I feel bad. No one should have to deal with that. End of the world or before”

Something about what she said only drew the concern to a higher level. Rick gestured with his head to return to the rest of the group and as he went to sit with his family, Y/N went to sit alone outside of the group facing away from them. The only time she was addressed was when T-Dog dragged a blanket over her shoulders, the flinch that came from her caught Daryl’s attention even more.

When the morning came, which meant time to progress inside the prison grounds…they were careful taking out the walkers in the courtyard before taking the risk of entering the building. Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Maggie, and Y/N took care of being the first to sweep the cellblock they entered. Taking out the few walkers they came across, including seeing a few prisoners that have met their fate to the undead or found a quick way out of the mess before they met that end.

Y/N lingered too close to a locked cell on the second story not seeing anything immediately until the walker forced itself against the bars causing her to stumble back.

Rick quickly came over taking the walker out as Daryl brought himself to her checking her person.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Uh…yeah” Y/N frowns stepping past him returning to the first floor to help Maggie in any way.

The group started to make home of the cell block for now and will progress further into the place in a bit. Just for now they were taking a break. While others claimed cells as their new “rooms”, Daryl took the catwalk not liking the idea of living in a cell and he wasn’t the only one to think such.

“Need help?” Glenn asks Y/N if she needed a hand pulling the mattress out of the cell and into the main walk way on the first floor.

“Oh uh. Yeah sure” She frowns letting Glenn help her move the mattress and before he left, he quickly grabbed one of their many blankets handing it to her. “Thanks…”

“Of course” Glenn smiles leaving to check on Maggie and her family.

Daryl leans against the railing watching Y/N sit on the mattress bringing her knees to her chest and hide her face. Her whole body tensed and hasn’t relaxed since they’ve entered the prison.

The group hasn’t relaxed like this since the farm and they were getting used to the temporary quiet.

The next morning a few took inventory of the gear they’ve found in the prison, then came to the decision of checking the rest of the prison. The men plus Maggie and Y/N. Daryl took lead while the rest followed through the darker parts of the prison.

Maggie getting spooked by Glenn after he marked the direction they came from only stressed the others and Y/N did her best not to scream as a trigger response to hers.

Then it became a game with the walkers coming from every direction, even where they came from. Resulting in being separated from Maggie and Glenn. But when Hershel retraced his steps, he unfortunately gotten bit. A bit of scrambling resulted in T-Dog and Y/N holding the doors to their only entrance and exit while the others held down Hershel so that Rick can cut off the infected part of his leg.

But it wasn’t long for them to realize they weren’t alone.

Y/N felt as if she was struck down with the realization that she recognized one of the prisoners that Daryl and T-Dog were currently holding their stand with.

“We gotta go!” Rick shouted resulting in Y/N pulling away from the door ignoring who she had just saw and helped Glenn with holding the makeshift gurney to get Hershel on.

Everything seem to escalate while a good chuck of their own focused on Hershel then Daryl took liberty with T-Dog to keep the prisoners in check until Rick came to break the news about the reality the prisoners are now living in.

It wasn’t until they stepped outside to see for themselves when Tomas, the one with the gun, turned to the three with one question that led to a million internal ones.

“The woman with yea, where the hell you find her?”

T-Dog gave Daryl a questioning look as to who he’s referring to. Maggie or Y/N. Because they were the only women they saw.

“Who are you talking about?” Rick questions keeping his hand hovered over his gun. Tomas took note of such and decided to drop it.

Meanwhile inside the prison the chaos died slightly, all they could really do is keep an eye on Hershel and check his dressings. Y/N stood by the cell with Glenn to keep an eye on him in case you know what happens, orders by Rick of course. Glenn couldn’t help but get more anxious just from being in Y/N’s vicinity.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers to avoid alerting the rest. “Do you think he’s—-“

“It’s not about Hershel. Don’t…worry about it”

“How can I not when we just learned we’re not alone in here? What do you think the prisoners have done to get in this place?”

Y/N clenched her fists trying to fight back the anxiety induced tears or more so the PTSD she’s trying to avoid reliving but the sheer knowledge alone of him alive was driving her insane. Carol from the corner of her eye couldn’t help but have concerns for her because she understands.

________

“It’s…not the best, Sophia. But at least we’ll be safe until he calms down…” Carol reassures her daughter as they were directed into a room they were gonna have to share given how many people the facility has in that moment.

The woman on the other side of the room hugging her knees to her chest avoiding looking at them when they entered. She had just arrived there for the first time and wasn’t used to how many people. Granted the amount of people only made her feel worse that so many in her shoes need to find this escape instead of leaving the relationship they were in.

“Hello” Carol started, letting Sophia get comfortable on the bed as she hesitantly approaches. “I’m Carol. This is Sophia, my daughter” she frowns watching tears roll off her cheeks. “I guess we’ll be roommates for a while. We won’t make a fuss—-“

“You’ve been here before…the way you’re talking…you’ve been here before”

“Unfortunately” Carol frowns watching the woman finally face her to notice the swollen black eye and her wrist in a cast. “You’re new aren’t you?”

“…Unfortunately” She scoffs. “I should’ve known…sooner…before the cops got involved”

Carol brought herself to sit on the bed with her giving her a look asking for permission to rest a reassuring hand on her knee which she granted.

“We like to believe that they will get better. Some just. Go too far and need the intervention…”

The woman frowns only nodding to her words as she held herself close again feeling her hand slip away.

“Do you have a name?”

“It’s—-“

________

“Y/N” Carol frowns finally having a moment away from the mess, being handed a towel from her because of the blood all over her person. “Y/N are you alright?” She whispers to keep this conversation between themselves but all Y/N could do was show discomfort in her expression and try not to let the tears fall.

“We can’t let them stay here. They aren’t good people. He’s not a good person” Y/N wanted to let go but they were soon interrupted by Rick.

“Y/N I need your assistance with clearing a cellblock for the prisoners”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Carol questioned immediately and for her.

“We’ll kill them if they go too far but for now. We made the deal so we can get half of their supplies. We need to hold a front for a short while longer or until they’ve proven—-“

“Rick” T-Dog calls for him outside their block as he nods indicating they’re on their way.

“I’m sorry. I need Y/N. Glenn is watching Hershel and Maggie is out of commission for now. I need a good fighter and she’s one of them” Rick states, taking Y/N’s arm only for her to shove him off before walking toward T-Dog. The smallest action made Carol smack him in the harm.

“You push her and you won’t hear the end of it” Carol threatened before returning to Hershel’s aid as that left more suspicion with Rick.

When they started to go over the plan with the prisoners, Tomas instantly locked onto Y/N who made herself known finally.

“Baby—You’re alive” Tomas declared about to make his way over to Y/N when Rick stopped him. Daryl instantly looked at her as the tension and anxiety from her all made sense when they arrived. “What? There’s no prison laws anymore. I don’t have to wait for visiting hours to see my girl”

“She’s here to help. Not rekindle anything from the before” Rick stated pushing him back as that only angered the man but before he could even retaliate, Y/N quickly pulled Rick back blocking the way resulting in hesitation from Tomas.

“Just listen to him Tomas” Y/N struggled to keep a steady speech but the way he relaxed and nodded. This was only going to put her in a position that Rick will hate himself for later. Hell, the hate will come from more than him.

As Y/N steps back she felt Daryl’s gently tap her arm indicating for her to stand with him. Which she did. Tomas had her attention all on her while Rick explained how they are going to handle the walkers.

As the group watched the prisoners take out a handful of walkers in their own creative way. Daryl turned to Y/N watching her struggle to get a deep breath in given being in the same room as the man who hurt her was only making her suffocate.

“Hey…take a breath. C’mon” Daryl whispers keeping his attention on her, lifting his hand and lowering it then repeating to show he’s trying to get her to follow the breathing pattern. “There. You’ve got it…I’ve gotcha”

When they were alone in a room for a more controlled way of taking out the walkers, Tomas brought himself close to Y/N but enough for her to hear him given Daryl was hovering.

“Miss me?” He smirks watching her step away. “Aww come on baby. I’ve been good. I was going to get out in good behavior if the world didn’t end”

“Oh yeah, which guard did you bribe into helping—-ow!” Oscar snapped as Tomas smacked him in the arm.

“I have a restraining order. You wouldn’t—-“

“Baby girl. You’re right here. Right now. It’s the end of the world and the laws don’t apply—-“

“Focus” Rick snaps and then one of the prisoners got scratched right when the wave calmed down.

The other prisoners were trying to argue in saving their friend but right as the arguing got to a point, Tomas suddenly took the crowbar he had to killed the prisoner. The action put Y/N in a frozen state of mind as she tried to get herself out of there but she wasn’t moving. Then when Tomas decided to put all his anger toward the prisoner when he really wanted it toward another, Daryl forced Y/N to look away but she wouldn’t move so he blocked her view.

“You see the look on his face?” Daryl asked Rick as they hung in the back covering Y/N from Tomas who was in front of them.

“He makes one move…”

“Just give me a signal” Daryl stated as they all entered the laundry room from the looks of it.

One door.

One door was what Rick told Tomas to open.

…

Everything just has to go to shit huh?

Tomas tossed the walker at Rick directly and while he did and the others took care of the rest. He instantly went for Y/N. He heard the two of them talking and it doesn’t take a genius to understand that one wrong move and he’ll get killed in the process.

“No—No no” Y/N instantly thrashed against his grip only for Tomas to pull her into him wrapping his arm around her front but have his hand on her throat. “Please——“

“I tried to be buddy buddy for this pig bastard. But I know the only reason I’m in here in the first place is because of you” Tomas whispered angrily, tightening his hand around her throat.

“Let go of her” Daryl snapped readying his crossbow but before he fired, Rick stopped him as the gun Tomas had pressed itself against her throat.

“Lower it or I won’t hesitate” Tomas threats putting his finger on the trigger as Y/N couldn’t help the tears in that moment. “I know you’re just going to kill us the second you have a chance because of what we were in the past—“

“Right now you’re just provin’ you haven’t changed” Rick stated keeping his attention on Tomas as well as Daryl but he also took note of how Y/N was doing and by her body language, she wants this to be over. “The fuck do you want in order to let her go unscathed…mostly” he watches his grip on her neck lessen but not enough for her to free herself.

“Let me go. Like that one said before. Let me try to fend for my goddamn self out there with the stuff I’ve got” Tomas pressed the gun into her neck more when he watched the two move. “You have to lower your weapons entirely…or I will kill her on my way out”

I’m not losing her Daryl instantly lowered his crossbow, even set it on the ground and that action led Tomas to glare at Rick to do the same along with T-Dog who had a different vantage point.

Tomas slowly stepped back, dragging Y/N along with him before tossing her to the ground keeping his gun pointed at the few. He waited a moment then turned on his heel making a break for it but before Daryl could grab his crossbow, Rick stopped him as Y/N took out her holstered gun aiming it at Tomas and taking the shot. He dropped instantly and his death led to another prisoner losing it and making a break for it.

As Rick grabbed his gun chasing after the other prisoner, T-Dog kept the other two in check while Daryl quickly brought himself to Y/N’s aid assessing how bad the bruising was on her throat and noticing the return of the frozen state she was in.

“Has she spoken to anyone since it happened?” Lori questioned Rick as the two were at the entrance to the prison watching Y/N sit in the field alone.

“No, but I know for a fact Daryl ain’t gonna leave her out there alone for much longer” Rick referred to the archer who couldn’t keep his gaze away from Y/N when he was helping T-Dog with more walker burn pits.

After some time, Y/N flinch hearing footsteps as she turned around to find Daryl holding his arms up in surrender. She relaxed turning herself back around as he brings himself close taking his poncho off and carefully putting it on her.

“If you’re gonna stick around out here might as well have that” Daryl sat himself down beside her leaning back on his hands.

“You wanna know don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“What he did. How he got there…I can’t explain why he was the way that he was but I can try—-“

“We all have our scars. You don’t have to share yours…we all were just. Scared for yea even when we didn’t know” Daryl frowns watching her get comfortable with the poncho on her as she kept her bruises hidden the best she could.

“He hurt me. The first time was…or I thought it was an accident. Then it kept happening every time I did something wrong or he was mad at something else.” Y/N frowns hugging her knees close to her chest. “He even got mad when I tried to get out of it…”

“Get out of the relationship, right?”

The look she gave him was full of sadness and even when the threat being permanently gone, there was still the anger toward her past self for letting it happen for so long and not ending it sooner.

“Oh…well, uhm. I’m glad you’re still here” in some way, that was him telling her exactly how he felt about her.

Y/N finally let herself break with the tears starting to stream down her cheeks. She held herself while she sobbed, gripping onto the poncho reminding herself that she’s safe now.

“I won’t let anyone hurt yea…ever again” Daryl promises then…

and will promise forever.

[forkloverr]

i started catching up on mha again bc im tired of getting spoiled💔 MEANING DABI BRAIN ROT HAS RETURNED MWAHAHJA

i came up with this random scenario. something like reader getting cut, idk by what, tho. some kind of accident. and dabi takes care of her wound. maybe he says something along the lines of "u have to get used to ur scars." IDK THIS WAS JUST A SHOWER THOUGHT😭😭 I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A CUTE LITTLE SOMETHING SOMETHING

'you drew stars around my scars' - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

warnings: mention of severe injury, fluff, names such as 'sweetheart' are used, dabi is probably a bit ooc but let a girl have her dreams LOL word count: 2,407

Rain swallowed your aching body. How long have you been running now? No, there was time to look behind, just run, run. The grey folder in your hand threatened to melt into sopping nonsense, once important intel now no longer legible. How sloppy had you been? You did everything you were supposed to, but one mistake, just one dire mistake, had led you to be running from the cops. How embarrassing you thought. Now the league is really going to doubt your abilities as a valuable member. They chose you to retrieve new information about the heroes, and now here you are. Scratch that. Focus on the now. That doesn't matter if you’re caught, or dead. The muscles in your legs pull and strain, pushing again and again and again until fire spreads all over your nerves. Maybe it's just the adrenaline, but you were sure you would have already fallen apart by now, pieces to the ground like a broken puzzle.

Crap. The rain turned into an intense downpour, practically draping the world in a dark grey blanket. You’re barely able to see what's in front of you, everything is a blur of rain and wind. Where was that street again? Maybe you already passed the hideout, or maybe- A bloodcurdling scream escapes your shaking lips, you trip and fall to the soaking ground, the impact harsh and rough. You feel hot rain running down your leg, but why is it red? Blood. Its blood. You’re used to that. But that's not someone else's blood. It’s yours.

All you see is a river of yourself pouring out but you can't stop. Not yet. Must keep running- You stop to look at what caused this, and it’s a piercing metal fence post you had failed to see. You try and lift yourself up to continue running, but your head pounds with excruciating pain. Running isn't an option anymore. Are they still behind you? You have to get back, you have to. You’re especially vulnerable now. Screeching pain escapes with every limp as you attempt to continue. How could someone as careful as you not only be caught but then also injured? Stupid mistake. You struggle on the slick road, grabbing onto anything you can for support. Then, you see an opening between the buildings, an alleyway. That's good. Maybe you can sit and recover until this all passes over. You start to approach the alleyway, but the closer you get, the more intensely humid it feels. The closer you get, the more… blue.. it glows. Right as you get to the entryway, a leather-coated arm snaps under your arms, grabbing you like a wet cat into the darkness.

“You're bleeding, you know.” A deep voice whispers in your ear. Huh, why is that idiotic tone familiar to you? “Are you an angel?” You squint your eyes, delusion and pain overriding your common sense. Only a dry laugh in return. ‘Far from it, sweetheart.” You slowly move your eyes to his face to discern whether or not you should punch this “stranger” for harassment. You start to piece together the blobs of purple, silver, and black appearing before you. Then it all makes sense. “Oh my god. Dabi what the heck.” A stupid cocky smirk is painted all over Dabi’s lips. He sets you down, moving his hands to rest on your shoulders to keep you from attempting to move, pulses of pain still moving through your body.

You and Dabi had a weird relationship. You both entered the League around the same time, but that was about the only thing you had in common with the man. He was a complete enigma. He was overly confident, sarcastic, petty, and almost childish. But for some reason, it felt as if he has a soft spot for you. He doesn’t treat you too differently than the others, but with Dabi, even the smallest of details matter. Everyone knows how reserved he is with his feelings. So when he does act ‘out of character,’ you notice. “Saw you needed help, quite the escape you made.” You reply with an annoyed growl, not appreciating the situation you’re currently in. Your brain then takes a moment to fully process his words. “Wait, how did you know I needed help? Unless you… YOU FOLLOWED ME?!?” A quick scoff. “Can a guy not have a hobby nowadays?” He teases. He continues, “Nah, I just-”

“You were worried about me, weren't you?” Surely he wasn’t actually, you were merely teasing him back. But something in his gaze shifts, for just a moment he moves his eyes to the side, avoiding yours. Odd. “I'm offended that you would insinuate that I feel anything more about you than you just simply being my ‘coworker’.” He rebukes. “If my legs worked, I would kick you so hard right now.” You seethe, squirming around in his tight grip. “I bet you would, sweetheart.” He gently puts you down and drops one hand to graze your injury. A sharp hiss escapes from behind your teeth. This is all just so amusing to him, isn't it? “Well, what are you going to do with me? Torment me some more? Tell me how stupid I am?” God, he’s so close you can practically taste his cologne. Messy staples shape into a grin, the kind of dirt-eating pearly grin that ticks you off every time he dares to show it. “Turn you in.” “WHAT.”

He cracked himself up, cynical laughter echoing through the alley. “Calm your pretty self down, I'm going to take you back to the league. Looks like you got yourself a pretty deep wound.” “Wait what did you say-” “No time for chit-chat.” He swoops you up bridal style. Normally he’d throw you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes- however, he doesn't want to risk making your injury worse. Or that's at least the excuse he’ll dig up if he’s questioned. Entering back into the unpleasant rain is not a feeling you missed. Despite having a fire quirk, Dabi’s body is surprisingly cold. So that just made it worse. But for some reason, your own body temperature has risen by quite a bit. And actually, now that you think of it, your heart is still going 90 miles per hour. Weird. Must be the remaining adrenaline. Your body shifts to try to relax, feeling weightless floating amidst the smooth fall of the rain. You start to feel a bit too relaxed. Once panicked breaths now turn into rhythmic ins-and-outs, almost in sync with the same rhythm of Dabi’s.

---

The next thing you remember is a strange poking sensation on your cheek. Frankly, it's quite annoying. “Mmm…. what do you want.” You peak open your tired eyes to see Dabi struggling to wake you up. “We’re here. Don't make me drop you.” Where exactly is ‘here’? This doesn't look like any part of the league’s hideout you’re familiar with. Must be Dabi’s room, you reason. Dabi then walks over and hovers over his bed, setting your back to be up against his pillow. “Stay there.” He grumbles, his footsteps trailing to the other side of the room. The deep thumping of your heart returns. 

You know Dabi, but you don't know him. He likes to keep things hidden, that's for sure. Motives, feelings, his past. How much can you truly say you know about his character? All of that makes your head pound, can you trust him enough to be in a room with him, alone? Maybe he’s looking for an easy kill, you would never have a chance at escaping. You’ve become a fly caught in a charming fly-trap. Maybe that explains his strange placement of attention on you, scouting you out for the perfect opportunity to remove you. Your thinking stops when Dabi turns back holding a white box. He stops at the side of the bed, pausing and opens his mouth like he was going to ask if you mind about him sitting next to you. Of course he was going to anyway regardless of your reply. No need to waste the words. The mattress dips as he positions himself to be close to your injured leg. Your nerves shifted from being on fire to those of fear. Your eyes shakingly move up to Dabi’s, searching for any expression of enjoyment or even anticipation of his new kill. All you get in return is a stern yet calm look from Dabi. “You look scared.” He grumbles. “Do I… Do I scare you?” His voice is low and gentle.

For a second, the intimidating man in front of you reminds you of a small child. You’ve never seen or heard Dabi like this. Even if it really is the bare minimum of emotion, it almost makes you feel guilty for questioning his motives, even if it was rightfully valid. You shake your head no. It's not a complete lie, maybe this tightness in your chest is something other than fear, something you haven’t felt in a while. A suppressed tidal wave of emotion that had always been pushed to the background. Nevermind that. “...Good.” He sets the white box down, carefully opening to lid to reveal what's hidden inside. Bandages, disinfectant, cotton balls, and more are organized into little sections in the box. It’s a first aid kit, although more suitable for severe injuries. Almost like he can read your mind, he breaks the silence.

“I always keep one in here. I have my.. fair share… of injuries.” Dabi lowers his gaze. Part of you realized that those scars aren't just a scary villain facade. No, it was something Dabi was ashamed of, a bad memory forever etched into every crevice of his skin. “I’m sorry.” You croak. Dabi ignores the apology, it's not your fault after all. It’s daily life to him now, a new normal. And it has been ever since that night. But you didn’t need to know that, no one did. This was the real and raw Dabi, even if the name “Dabi” is also a false pretense. “Well, how bad is it?” You nervously ask. Dabi sucks the air through his teeth. “It’s a pretty deep wound, probably will leave a scar.” Immediately you recoil. Not that looks are all that matter, but having a giant deep scar on your leg for the rest of your life is pretty jarring. Especially a scar earned in such an idiotic way. Every day after this will be a constant reminder of your stupidity every time you look at yourself in the mirror. Dabi can sense your muscles tense up. He places a hand on your good leg and looks up at you. He opens his mouth to speak before hesitating,

“You.. you have to get used to your scars.” A melancholic expression is painted on his face. You can tell he really means it. His hand then hovers above your leg with the antiseptic and a cloth from the kit. He pauses again. “I’m just going to be honest with you, this is going to hurt real bad.” “This is just how I wanted to spend my night.” You sigh, trying to hide how much you were dreading the next minute. Dabi takes a moment to reply. “Uh.. not trying to make it weird or anything, but are you ok with me touching you?” Dabi tenses slightly out of embarrassment. Why is he acting so weird? you wonder. Dabi is all about barking orders and never stopping to ask anything. So what if it’s going to bring you pain? Doesn’t affect Dabi. So why should he care so much to even ask? 

“Oh, I don't mind, I feel like you know what you're doing.” You shift slightly in anticipation. He grunts an ‘ok’. Lowering his head back to the bloody gash before him. Immediately after he pours the liquid on your injury you clench your jaw and hold on for dear life on the bed. Muffled curses hide behind your lips as you resist completely losing your cool. You can take this, you’re a grown adult, right? Dabi amusingly looks at your face, chuckling to himself. “You look really funny right now.” Through gritted teeth you grunt, “At least have some compassion!” Dabi then cleans up the wound with the rag, for such a rough-looking individual his touch is rather soft and gentle. He gingerly presses on your wound, working all the way around it. He turns back to the kit and gets out a roll of white bandage. “Lift your leg up.”

You try your best to follow his orders, but your muscles are stiff and are screaming in pain. Dabi sees your straining expression and lets out a sigh. “Stop. I’ll do it.” In quite the coy manner, Dabi slips one hand under your thigh, and moves the other to be by your knee. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a dusting of pink. He then begins to lift your thigh up and bends your knee until your leg is a triangular arch. Dabi unwraps the bandage with his teeth, then secures one side under your thigh to begin wrapping your leg. Holding the beginning of the bandage, Dabi carefully covers the entire wound, making sure the bandage has a secure grip on your skin, but not tight enough to hurt you. Surprisingly enough, Dabi wasn't done. He opens his black leather jacket to dig in one of the inner pockets and retrieves a hot pink Hello Kitty band-aid. You can't help but stupidly grin. “Dabi, why do you of all people have a Hello Kitty band-aid in your jacket.” Dabi returns your smile. “Toga.” One name explains it all. Toga had a habit of gifting cute things to the league. Because everything is “so bland here.”

He unwraps the bandaid and places it in the center of the bandage. “Thought you’d like it. More than me anyways.” He coughed. “Who knew the elaborate Dabi was such a softie.” You giggle, shifting around to sit next to him on the bed. “Hey, Dabi?” “Mm.” “Thank you..” Dabi turns to look at you, then stoops down and softly kisses the spot where the band-aid was. You can feel your stomach tickle with butterflies. “W-what was that for?!” You gasp, feeling your heart practically jumping out of your ribcage. He smirks. “What, you’ve never heard the expression ‘kiss it to make it better?’”

[winniefrezcomics]

I got reminded of these when I saw a repost

A mini comic you drew a while ago shows Iris in jail with Perry talking to him through glass. Perry has a smile and is guessing what they charged him on in a joking manner, also based on the wording of Perry and Iris conversation it isn't the first time he has been arrested.

So I was wondering if there was a pacific event that did lead him to getting arrested and i'm so curious what Perry's reaction was to seeing or being told his boyfriend was arrested.

Sorrry this is so long I just love your AU! And character designs 💙💜 (*´ ˘ `*)

AWH TYSM!! 🥺💕❤️ dw i love long questions dbdbddhjd, ranting incomprehensibly abt my AU satiates the hyperfocus demons 😂😂

Tbh for a second I got confused bc I thought u were talking abt a doodle comic I never finished or posted, but then I remembered this magma doodle exists 😂😂

Dug that comic out to finish it for this ask too tho bc I lowkey forgot I was almost done w it ☠️☠️ ty for the reminder mwah mwah 😚

SO UH- I feel like in a human AU, it would only make sense for Irep to have an EXTENSIVE criminal record, starting even back in elementary school 😂😂

Infodump under cut- (Cw for incarceration, false imprisonment, and a VERY brief mention of child abuse at the end- spoiler: Iris rocks an abusers shit HARD and goes to prison for it but jokes on them bc Perry and Iris then adopt his daughter and give her the loving parents she deserves 💙💜)

Kid Iris probably got sent to Juvie a few times but never stayed long because his rich daddy would either bail him out or prevent him from being emitted entirely- same story for his teen years- as far as WHAT lands him in juvie/jail in his youth, the general answer is “doing whatever the fuck he wants and having no concern over the consequences” wheeze

Vandalism, fist-fights, petty theft, grand theft auto, trespassing, breaking and entering- that sort of thing- his parents will always forgive him, so Iris has VERY little forethought when it comes to what actions may lead to getting him in legal trouble ☠️

HOWEVER, once Iris turned 18 and was legally an adult, his dad had more trouble bailing him out every time, so he had to serve a few short sentences here and there, but just sort of got used to the pattern of “do whatever the fuck I want, serve jail time if the cops catch me, go back to doing whatever the fuck I want” 😂😂

Perry is never PLEASED to hear that Iris has been arrested again, but he’s also never surprised. usually Perry will either just sigh and reschedule thier upcoming dates, or if Iris has pissed him off recently, break up w him for the hundredth time only to inevitably take him back once Iris is released and stands outside his window w a boombox in the pouring rain or some other equally dramatic romantic gesture 😂

(Sidenote: I think another reason (anti) Cosmo starts to have trouble keeping Iris out of the hands of the law is that HE HIMSELF starts to get into hot water for stuff like tax fraud and embezzlement wheeze)

Unfortunately my friend you have activated my ANGST TRAP CARD w this one- check out below the cut for a huge infodump abt Iris’ Jailtime; specifically the worst ‘breakup’ he and Perry EVER had, that took them years to reconcile from! 🥰

His LONGEST sentence (the one where Perry LOST TRACK of him for multiple years) happened after Iris and Perry had a fight about Perry being “too boring” and “always trying to smooth down his edges” so they kind of sort of decide to go on a break, and Iris is too mad to even give his boyfriend a kiss goodbye (a decision he would come to regret for his ENTIRE LIFE).

Iris drags Sammy Sweetsparkle on an INSANE party binge in Tijuana or something- at some point losing track of Sammy, but deciding he’s having too much fun to stop now…. Only to end up taking the fall for a stranger in a HUGE drug bust of some kind, and getting thrown into a prison in MEXICO with NO SPANISH FLUENCY and no way to contact his friends and family back home ☠️☠️

Perry spends YEARS trying to find his boyfriend, losing weight, barley sleeping, and just generally making himself SICK with worry to the point that Timmy and his parents had to BEG HIM to just move on with his life, bc they couldn’t stand to see him wither away like that.

Despite having been dating thier son for multiple years, Perry actually didn’t have a very close relationship with Iris’s parents at the time, so even though at first he was constantly calling them for updates, by the time AC and AW actually FOUND thier son years later, they’re weren’t sure if Perry’s number was correct anymore, so when Wanda called Perry to excitedly tell him that they had FINALLY found Iris, unfortunately it’s TIMMY that happens to answer the phone.

Perry is staying with his brother for a short time to get back on his feet after finally giving up on finding his boyfriend and starting to apply for teaching jobs (something he got a college degree for but took a few years to pursue bc dating mid-20s Iris was a full time fuckin job tbh). Timmy is so glad that his brother is finally doing better, and, though secretly relived to hear Iris isn’t DEAD like Perry had been assuming, Timmy makes a hard (maaaaybe wrong as hell of him) decision… he tells Wanda she has the wrong number, and to never call again. 🙃

Lemme know if yall wanna hear about thier eventual reunion! Trust me, this peice makes it look WAY less traumatic and messy than it was 😬☠️ Iris basically does EVERYTHING WRONG HE POSSIBLY COULD HAVE to delay thier eventual reconciliation 😔

Iris serves one more long sentence AFTER he and Perry make up and start dating again, but the reason is actually a noble one this time, and iris turns himself in willingly to prove to Perry that he’s not a killer, and he IS trying to be better (Iris found out one of Perry’s students had a horrifically abusive father and beat him within an inch of his life 💙 they later adopted said student)

which I mention here only so that I can ALSO post this art of thier SECOND post-jail reunion, which is MUCH more joyful and sappy than the first sobs- thier daughter is definitely present for this, just so itty bitty she’s off-screen lmao

Ty for the question! I actually dug most of this infodump out of a discord server, but I’m glad to have it archived here now too uwu

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello Mousie✨ this is a random one but u know how Kent randomly sends you bombs in the mail, and how the farmer is just like "yo thanks bro I'll use them in the mines" and is really chill about the fact that there is a whole bomb in their mailbox? How do you think RSV marriage candidates would react to it? Like maybe they wake up before the farmer and go check the mailbox and there is a whole bomb just sitting there? Would they not care? Throw it in the farm lake? Call the cops? (I was specifically wondering how Shiro would handle it but you can add whoever else you like✨)

Anyway that's all, don't forget to take care of yourself and have a great day 🎀

Oh yeah, of course I know about Kent sending us bombs..... Because almost every time, I accidentally activate a bomb that destroys my crops, sprinklers and rarecrows 🥲 Always a little paranoid about it so I don't destroy everything again.

Anyway, thanks for the kind words, dear anon, and for your ask! 🥺 Enjoy, and have a great day as well! 💖

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RSV bachelors/ettes react to mailbox bomb sent by Kent

RSV bachelors:

Opening the mailbox door, Sean thought at first that it was a firecracker, the kind he with Blair and Keahi often used for pranks. But when he saw the sender and the rather serious warnings on the bomb, he was a little taken aback, and slowly closed the mailbox. "Hon, I don't think our neighbor likes us very much." Because... how else do you explain this?

Shiro wants to have a very serious talk with his comrade and war veteran, because with all due respect to Kent, why the heck is he literally sending weapons to him and Farmer? Yes, Shiro's spouse will find a use for that bomb, but you can't just move an explosive device carelessly through the mail. So this is the first and last warning. No drastic decisions for now tho, it's just that Shiro got worried.

Bryle opened the mailbox door just a little, and his practiced bodyguard reaction worked at once. Bouncing out of range, he immediately sprinted over to Farmer, ordering them to move away from the window and drew his service weapon. "Someone is trying to kill us. Be careful, they might be on the farm property." "If you mean the bomb in the mailbox, it's probably from Kent." "???" Though Bryle later clarified the situation with Kent, he kept a bit of an eye on him. A drop of caution never hurt.

"Dear, did you cross some local criminal organization or what?" That was June's first question to Farmer when the pianist saw a round object with a wick instead of the usual letters and packages in the morning. June really thought it was some kind of sign or warning from the criminals, because it didn't occur to him who could have sent the bomb in the first place, other than ill-wishers. He's a little worried, but no panic from him.

Jio reaction was fast, and the place where the mailbox of his and Farmer's house had stood was now just a blast site, a small fire (which the elf put out at once) and broken windows from the sound wave. He calmly announced to his dazed spouse that "the threat has been eliminated". After learning from Farmer that this Kent has sent bombs like this many times before, the elf wanted to "talk to him really badly" ("Jio, put the katana away-"). Of course he'll see it as an attempt to hurt him and Farmer, because that's how some of his enemies have tried to hurt the Cult before.

One, two, three - and Kenneth carefully removed the wick of the bomb, rendering it non-threatening. He wasn't too pleased, to say the least, that Kent had sent them a bomb like that without warning. Sure, the veteran had just given away an item that Farmer would need in the Mines, but what if they opened it and accidentally activated it? What if their children activated it? Kenneth is afraid to even imagine that situation. So no bombs, okay?

A quiet morning for Ian: day off, morning tea, beautiful weather, bomb in the mailbox, cooked breakfast- Stop. Bomb... in the mailbox. Ian looked carefully to make sure his eyes weren't lying to him. From Kent? Ian burns with a great desire to write a letter back, and he certainly doesn't need much knowledge in to write "Kent wtf".

Oh, no no no no no. With all due respect to Kent, Philip will not tolerate Kent sending any more dangerous bombs that could accidentally activate and explode, harming Farmer, him, or their children. Why is the veteran even sending them anything dangerous? Yes, Farmer uses bombs, but they are stored in a special place where it is safe and no one but themself has access. It won't come to a scandal, but Philip will stand his ground. No offense to Kent.

Zayne is sure to be taken aback by such an interesting package, not knowing how the head of the Amethyst family should even react to such a thing. He'll inform Farmer about the bomb in the mail and express his concern about the dangerous object on their farm, and then write a long letter thanking Kent for the gift but asking him not to send bombs to their address, worried for the safety of himself and his family. Even if they're "not too dangerous".

"Uh... Honey, there's a package for you, but I don't think we should touch that." When Anton found a bomb in the mailbox instead of letters, he would gladly run with Farmer away from the mailbox, not wanting to test fate. Will had a mini heart attack when Farmer went to the mailbox and picked up the bomb as it was just a regular package. "Oh, Kent sent it over. Just what I need for my trips to the Mines." Anton and Farmer need to talk.

Jeric ran from the mailbox to Farmer, dragging them behind a thick wall, and quickly contacted Bryle for some backup. He reckoned someone wanted to get rid of him as the Governor's son, and he feared for Farmer's life and his own. But then Farmer told him that it was probably another bomb from Kent. "Hold one, Bryle, I'll call you back." *Click* "Farmer, darling, what do you mean "another"?"

RSV bachelorettes:

"Heh, someone wanted to play a trick on us. Definitely Keahi." Blair calmly tossed the bomb with her hand, showing the attempted prank to her lover. To which Farmer said it was a real bomb. The fisherwoman nearly dropped the explosive thing on the floor out of shock. That's... hardcore, to say at least. So... what now? Throw it in the river? No, wait, the explosion would definitely kill the local fish, and that's no good.

Well, Paula won't be surprised by a bomb - she's seen it all in her time in the army. Except the doctor can't understand why one of the war veterans thought it was the good idea to make such a parcel. It's dangerous, and Kent himself could be in serious trouble. "Paula, that's how I send people a parcel like that too." "A bowl of soup is one thing, and bomb is quite another." Paula will ask Kent to at least give her and Farmer a warning about mails like this.

Faye bounced away from the mailbox as if scalded with boiling water at the sight of the bomb. The waitress quickly rushes over to Farmer, panickingly babbling that they need to call the bomb squad/emergency services and get as far away from the mailbox as possible and warn everyone to stay away from their farm. "Kent sent me a bomb again?" "What do you mean again????"

Irene tries to stay calm, believing that panic will do no good, but she can't shake the growing worry about the dangerous package from Kent. Like, okay, if their neighbour had sent some cookies, or even a battery, that's fine, but a bomb? The chef will try to politely ask Kent not to send them any bombs in the mailbox.

Farmer doesn't even have time to say anything before Corine picked up the bomb and made it so that it definitely won't explode. "Well, it no longer provides a threat" Yes, except the bomb has become useless, and you can't use it in the Mines anymore. It's a pity that Kent's gift is gone. "From Kent, you say?" Corine didn't intend to get the veteran in trouble, but she couldn't help herself when she caught a slice of panic on her spouse's face.

"What the actual fu- Who send this?!" Maddie's not sure who thought of sending Farmer a bomb in the first place. In the mail! A dangerous object, and by post! The lab assistant took the letter to read who the sender was, and walked with quick steps to Kent's house, to tell him what she thought of his "package." Nothing would stop her rage, not even a loving spouse.

Flor is always a little drowsy in the early morning, so she goes to the front porch first to get the mail, hoping the morning freshness will wake her up right away. You can't argue with that - she's really perked up... by the sight of the bomb in the mailbox. Panic seized the girl, and she took hold of her hands, then realized what exactly she had taken hold of, and, afraid to make sudden movements, began to call to her spouse for help.

Poor Alissa was at a complete loss. First she opened the mailbox door, closed it, then opened it again to convince herself that she had actually seen what she had seen, closed it again. And after half a minute she opened it. She was scared to touch the bomb, but the girl didn't want Farmer to touch it either. But she couldn't leave it like that either. What's she supposed to do?

"Did I hear you right: our neighbor from Pelican Town is sending you... bombs in the mail?" Honestly, Kiarra doesn't know what she's more surprised about anymore - the dangerous package, or the fact that, according to her spouse, this wasn't the first time such a package had been sent. The graphic designer will try not to take drastic action and will invite Kent to their home for tea, talking about the topic and trying to find a compromise for safety reasons.

"Cutie, a package from Kent." You'd think Daia would be cautious, considering the Cult's house has already been tried to be destroyed by sending the same kind of packages with an explosive object in the mail. But the ninja shows no concern about that. She's studied Kent enough to know that such gifts are no way to harm her and Farmer, plus Daia knows how to defuse bombs instantly. Besides hey, a free bomb.

Ysabelle isn't sure if she should call the bomb squad or not. She's seen all sorts of things in the Farmer's mail: plates full of (still hot!) soup, statues made of gold, elixirs and gems, but a bomb is something new. And this new thing she doesn't like, because at least soup can't explode and hurt you. "But you can get burned by soup, too." "Not the point, Farmer." Ysabelle is going to insist that Kent not send bombs in the mail anymore. Better safe than sorry.