#also I work from home so there's a need to have space for supplies for that
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hellenhighwater · 3 months ago
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So, every animal shelter around me is heinously overloaded/understaffed and begging for fosters. I am considering applying to be one for a momma cat with kittens, but I don't know if I have enough space/time/energy to do so and don't know anyone I can ask IRL about the experience. Are you willing to go into detail about what exactly foster duty entails? Also, do the fosters coexist peacefully with Malice and Vice or do you need to keep them separated?
Fostering can be a relatively small time investment, or it can be a big one. Nearly every shelter hits capacity in the warm months, due to the overwhelming quantity of kittens.
I talked to my local shelter and explained that I don't have a ton of time to work with--I can't take neonatal kittens, or ones that need regular hand feeding, or basically anyone medically fragile. But I can take litters that are doing well, who just need time and space to grow big enough to hit the minimum weight to be spayed/neutered and adopted. On a daily basis, I swap out water, food, and clean litter, plus general tidying-up as needed. That takes maaaybe half an hour to an hour--most days I do it before work. Because most of my litters have moms, the moms do a lot of the work of feeding and cleaning the babies! They may need bathing sometimes, depending on how much of a mess they make. Beyond that, I try to spend time with them as much as I can--I'll go in and eat my meals with them, sit and do digital work, or watch movies while I do projects with them around. The goal is to socialize and handle them as much as you can.
Kittens generally litter train themselves, but accidents happen when they're little, so a space with easily cleaned floors is ideal. I start my fosters out in a jumbo sized dog crate, allowing for supervised time outside of that, and then eventually give them my whole den to run around in when they're old enough to be more independently mobile (basically when they're old enough to realize that losing sight of their mom does not mean they're lost forever, and can navigate the space on their own.) I do keep Mal and Vice out of the den when I have fosters, but there's a glass door so theycan see each other.
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Most shelters with foster programs will supply everything you need for them in terms of food, meds, and litter--you just give them space and time. I got my own jumbo dog crate to use, and I pick up secondhand towels for cheap--that gives me something easy to wash for them to sleep on. If you're just getting started, a shelter can probably find you an "easy" litter to begin with. Not that there's ever a 100% guarantee, because kittens are fragile, but usually they can set up a litter that seems strong. At least for me, there's an urge to play the hero and take on too much--I have to be careful, and accept that I only have so much time to work with; I have to say no to some of the more tiny, delicate kittens, and leave them to be fostered by those who can handle them. Those people are awesome and I'm not one of them.
If you're setting up space for fosters, I'd choose a place that's easy to clean, that's not going to leave them vulnerable to being bothered by other animals or kids all the time (they sleep a lot), and which allows for you to spend time with them. You can keep your fosters in a large dog crate or other kennel--honestly, it's comparable to how the shelter would house them--or in a room you have set up to handle them, but I'd hesitate to give them complete free run of your place unless you live somewhere quite small. Kittens are fast, and you really don't want to lose one. I remove rugs and less durable furniture from their space as well, and sometimes will cover the couch in a thick blanket to reduce claw marks.
Overall, I think it's totally worth it. It's fun to get to have them through the baby days, and they have more individualized attention in a home than they would get at the shelter. It's worth trying! If it doesn't pan out--or if they start needing more attention than you can give--you can give them back, but in the meanwhile they have a more enjoyable home than a shelter.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months ago
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God, I love the Cave Boy series. Will the batfam manage to find him after he dips. Will they ever find out about his powers. So many questions
Danny stays underground for days.
He doesn't know the exact time frame because he only goes to the surface to grab supplies. He makes sure to only fully emerge when there is no light out.
It was a bigger risk to be caught by the Waynes, who only operated in the dark, but it ensured fewer eyewitnesses were around. Danny Kane was still a very hot celebrity for taking down the Joker- he would be surrounded by a mob of fans if he walked down the street.
He moved his ship into a deeper cave by phasing the large metal and all his equipment through solid rock, which was not easy. It was a miracle he found a little pocket to set up shop.
Danny thinks the little pocket- surrounded by stone with no opening at all, was formed after a cave-in at one point. It was large enough to work on his ship and had just enough space to set up a sleeping bag and a tent for rest.
He rarely uses that space nowadays.
Danny had stolen from a camping store- taking with him an entire box of lanterns that he placed strategically around his space. They threw light to the large four walls of stone- making him feel trapped inside a midevil dungeon, and somehow, it also made him think incredulity alone.
That was the worst part of this whole change of scenery. He doesn't want to admit it, but he got used to Wayne Manor and the colorful characters there.
He hadn't even done anything besides lay around but he missed the sound of people. Even before Bruce had found him, Danny would see people often as he wandered around gathering a sense of the city.
Now, he was genuinely suffocating alone. He didn't feel the loss often, but there were times when it felt like being hit by a truck.
It's when his own ice powers reach into his bones, causing his teeth to clatter and curl up into a smaller ball on the cave ground, that Danny misses the Manor the most. He stole food from the stores- but without any way to cook or heat it up, it's limited to the packed food.
Sometimes, while eating packs of dried fruit, he thinks longingly of Alfred's warm meals. Then he remembers how they looked at him when his lies got so out of hand that they believed Bruce's parents lived in his world and he could suppress the longing to return.
Danny has made leaps and bounds on building his ship since he no longer pretends to be Brucie. He no longer filled the hours with nonsense, only being awake to work or stealing what he needed to continue working.
Unlike before, Danny had developed a tunnel version of finishing his project. He no longer wanted to give himself time to ensure everything was fine.
He just wanted to go home.
He's gotten better at wielding using his own ghost laser, and now his ship had its full body. It was missing seats, a window, and even a steering program that actually turned when he wanted- but he was getting closer and closer every day.
All the small technology pieces he stole from the Waynes were on one side- ripped apart for the needed parts. He would spend hours carefully opening everything to check what he could use and what he could melt down to repurpose.
Danny carefully pulls out some small wires from the electric candle he took from the Wayne Dinner table when his vision blurs. He takes a moment to blink rapidly, trying to let the sudden burst of lightheadedness pass him.
Sadly, it was only a few seconds before he crumbled to the hard ground. He gasps, the cold coming back tenfold, and he can do nothing but lay there and pray the pain passes.
Danny hadn't felt this weak since his ice core first developed. Even the first Ghostly Wail hadn't made his limbs feel this heavy.
He knows he has been pushing himself too far lately- barely eating or sleeping- but Danny can't risk any wasted second. He saw the resources the Bats have.
It was only a matter of time before they found him- even if they would need to drill through the solid stone for hours to reach him- and he didn't want to face them after the guilt of lying to them was slowly eating him alive.
He had kept the Wayne at arm's length the entire time, living under the pretense of being Bruce Wayne's counterpart. He told himself he wanted nothing to do with their nightly battle against evil- and he didn't!- and that he could care less if they treated him as family.
He took everything they gave him without hesitation, telling himself they were fools for letting anyone in and stealing from them. Danny thought it would not matter as he would finish his ship and be flying home long before they realized he wasn't Bruce.
Until they stop treating him so warmly after killing the Joker. Danny wasn't sorry about it, but suddenly, he was a stranger in a crowd to them.
Danny had no right to be upset. He lied. He didn't want to be Brucie to them and had actively made Tim look bad by being as Unproactive as possible, going along with changed narratives of his world.
Danny had used the Waynes.
Yes, he did so, believing they were a cult or an evil madman, but he learned that wasn't the case early on. He could have ended the lie at any moment, but he didn't because he figured it would be harmless.
Then he realized that Bruce's parents were killed in front of him- the story wasn't hard to find when he actually bothered to look into the Waynes at a local high school library after hours.
Not only did he find the horrific story, but he found out that almost all the Waynes had a tragic story. Dick's parents were murdered in an accident that wasn't an accident at all.
Tim's parents were killed by a madman with boomerangs. Jason's father died in prison, and his mother overdosed before Bruce took him in. Duke's parents were patients with no working mind because of the Joker (Danny should have made his death last longer).
The only ones that didn't seem to be Cass and Damian, but he knew it was likely due to Bruce not wanting the public to learn that they came from abusive households- he figured that much out by their reactions.
Even Alfred had a history of PTSD from his time in the army. There was an article about a scandal when Bruce had actually been a child- apparently, someone had thought to release firecrackers under the servant's table, and Alfred had panicked. People had mocked him about it for months.
Everyone had a reason to be a villain, yet they all had opened their home to him and been nothing but kind. They were good, and they treated him like family.
Danny felt sick with himself, for being so self-centered he never bothered to really get to know them. And now he never could.
A few tears rolled down his face as his vision started to blur out more and more.
No use crying over it now, Fenton. Though the haze of exhaustion doesn't let him get up from the floor, he thinks bitterly.
He'll rest for a little bit, then get back to work. Only for a few minutes/
Danny doesn't notice his body has shifted in his Ghist side, slowly redirecting his energy to his core, so that his healing could help overcome the unknown days.
He is not aware his heartbeat stops at the same time.
_____________________________________________________________
"I can't hear him anymore!" A young boy screams, pressing his ear against a stone. Horror clouds his voice as he turns to stare at another boy. "His heartbeat....it's not...."
"We must make haste! Breakthrough now!" The other boy snaps.
"But that might cause the cave to fall on top of him." The other rubs his hands together nervously. "I think we may be too late to save-"
"Every second we waste is a second that Brucie gets closer to death!" His company growls savagely, though the tears in his eyes make him less scary. "We have to at least bring his body home- we-I can't- he needs to be buried properly."
Not even a second passed before the other boy threw his shoulders back, yanking out his phone and pressing a speed dial two.
His father picks up two rings. "Jon?"
"Dad! We found Brucie! He was stuck in a cave underneath the tunnels leading to Gotham Cemetry. Can you come help me get him out?"
"I'll be right there."
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collaredsoldat · 1 month ago
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Winter Soldier Post!HYDRA Headcannons
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warnings: Bucky is still the Winter Soldier | PTSD | Post abuse (physical, psychological) | Past SA and mentions of treatment for it | Light descriptions of injuries/wounds | Medical stuff
a/n: I was writing something earlier and it made me want to write this. It's just a random collection of headcannons I have. You bring him home after he escapes HYDRA. You have your hands full. Unedited.
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Following the events of the movies, let's pretend you bring Bucky home after CATWS. He's still the soldier. He's still Soldat. And Soldat doesn't speak. In fact he is silent for days. Uttering nothing, not a peep.
Soldat is silent, watchful, wary. He doesn't like being approached too quick. He stays in corners. He stays in small spaces. Being too exposed now makes him feel anxious. He reacts with aggression if he is anxious.
You learn all this.
He also becomes visibly irritated when he feels confused and stressed, which is pretty much constantly.
He needs you to order him around, which sounds harsh but the sudden change of environment and treatment is really confusing for him. He is too fresh from HYDRA to immediately just heal. That's now how it works. This kind of trauma doesn't just go away. This man is so severely mistreated, you aren't even sure where to start.
Simple things like telling him to shower or sleep. Otherwise he stays up for days and refuses to do anything. Free will is such a foreign concept to him.
Re-feeding and giving him nutrients and fluids is a nightmare. Luckily, you had a medic friend who could look at him without the involvement of the government since he was in hiding for now. You got all the supplies you needed, but it was still a hassle. His options were very limited when it came to food. Oatmeal, mashed potatoes, applesauce, things like that. He could barely stomach anything more solid than that.
He sits still for the IVs, but sometimes he doesn't and he puts up a struggle, assuming it is some kind of drug to manipulate him. You just have to stay close and talk to him so he pays more attention to you than what your friend is doing.
He got sick a lot. You had to be careful about that. Too much food made him sick, his body wasn't used to it.
He also was having difficulty remembering you and where he was, the fact that he wasn't undergoing constant brainwashing made all the chemicals go haywire. It made his moods unpredictable. He had aggressive bouts, though he never harmed you badly, he would grab you if you got too close out of instinct and fear.
He often broke down and during these times it was a gamble whether or not he'd let you around him. He felt so pathetic and small and horrible, confused and unsure for the first time in decades. He was used to being mindless besides the orders barked at him. Simple, easy, all he had to do was listen.
But now, things were different. He was no longer being kept in a shitty cell or in an icebox. He wasn't tortured daily, he wasn't taken into rooms where agents were greedy with him. He wasn't hurt. And...it confused him even more.
You notice he sits strange when he does. He doesn't like to sit for long. He says it hurts. He prefers to stand. You don't understand until later, and you do your best to help ease his pain.
He didn't understand why you didn't hurt him. Why you didn't hit him. Sometimes he hit himself when he felt like he deserved it, each time he felt a pit in his stomach when he saw the disapproving look in your eye and listened to the scold that came after. You were gentle...but firm. He could not hurt himself. That made him bad. Disobedient. Disobedient soldiers are punished. It was a cruel cycle that ran in his mind. You had to be the one to stop it.
When he did speak, it was simple Russian phrases. Yes, no, he addressed you as handler, his responses were monotone and recited. He had been trained not to speak. That wasn't what he was supposed to do with his mou-
Enough. The memories are invading again.
You could tell when he zoned out into his episodes, his eyes became glossy and he seemed to become a zombie. You sat him down somewhere quiet and stayed with him. Sometimes he didn't want to be touched, sometimes he let you. But you had to be careful, you never wanted him to be uncomfortable or make things worse.
It was a tender thing. But it was something you were more than happy doing.
After a few weeks he seeks you out more often. He stays close by, he even sits close to you or tries to get your attention. He's still quiet, but he speaks more now. Even in english, which you find a relief. By you you've learned the short Russian phrases he spoke, but it was good he spoke english too.
He starts to hang closer to you, he stays out of his 'hiding spots' in your home and stays around you more often. He sits on the couch beside you, starting to seek you out. It's a positive sign he's growing more comfortable.
He doesn't like being alone for very long. If you have a job, it might be hard for him. You try to get one where you can work from home, otherwise he is very anxious and clingy when you come home from your shift.
The spare bedroom is his, but he often finds himself migrating to your bedroom through the night. He needs your presence, he needs to know he's not alone. The silence is deafening, and knowing your body is beside him is comforting when he sleeps.
Speaking of, he starts off on the floor. It's a little heartbreaking, he sees the bed as a test, an awkward thing he doesn't want to sleep in. So he starts on the floor, then you move the mattress off the bed to the floor, along with some pillows and blankets. That seemed to help condition him to an actual bed before he eventually sleeps in yours with you.
You know recovery and his healing is going to be a long, bumpy road, but you are just happy he sees you as protection and comfort, and his trust is slowly building with you.
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Thanks for reading.
Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images from Pinterest
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heartfullofleeches · 2 months ago
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While the psychological mindfuxking Host puts Darling through in order to wear them down into being his co-host is honestly one of the most fun things to write, I live for Darlings who were never appreciated in their own time and suck up all the praise he gives them for their talents.
Crafty Reader who also dabbles in a bit of inter decorating winds up on Host's show and their immediate first thought is "Damn, bitch- You host a game show on this stage?"
It's cute- but a little outdated. Where's the passion? The irritatingly bright neon signs that burn their eyes from a mere glance. Potted plants??? Anything??
Normally Host isn't one to tolerate guests that interrupt his opening speech, but as Darling goes off on their tangent Host is left stumped - stupefied, damn near mesmerized by that fire in their eyes. He can't say they aren't wrong either- Props come and go as Host wishes, but the stage is a bit lacking without them. Not contestants don't stick around long enough to point it out, but with his newest and top pick for co-host right in front of him perhaps it's time for a few changes.
"Congratulations! You won today's show Give our fans a big smile and wave goodbye to our losers."
"I won?...but you didn't even ask me any questions."
"Oh, you- If answering questions was the only way to win here no one would."
Darling is whisked away by stage hands into a bedroom- The room is deprived of any furniture beyond a bed, a large chest propped against the farthest wall, and a table upon which an old sewing machine sits. It looks a bit like the one they had back home, but the label is made up of jumbled letters and symbols. How are they supposed to use the darn thing without any supplies anyway?
Darling inspects the chest and finds.... pretty much everything tucked away in their small bedroom, their real bedroom that they use for their projects. No construction paper, though.....
Oh. There's some.
Darling quickly discovers that whatever they require appears in the chest whenever they're vocal with their requests. On occasion, the chest acts without their say and pulls the thought from their mind before they're able to speak. It isn't long before the empty space is fully stylized to their personality and presences. Darling thinks they did a great job. The teddy bear on their bed believes so too.
.....When did that get there?
Darling may have won his show, but Host is the real winner when he see what Darling has done to his stage. Host are extended by another hour....or year with how long he brags to guests about Darling's craftsmanship. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of when the watches you wear flop between ticking backwards or at a snails pace.
"Thoughts on those name plates? Our brilliant co-host made them for you all- Are you lucky? I of course have my own, but- Oh, come now. I know this is top quality work, but there's no need to scream. Give our co-host a hand for all their hard work....Or lose both."
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norman-fucking-reedus · 6 months ago
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HE ATE MY HEART!
“I love that girl”
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gif by @corvidcrossbow
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IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG
Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.
So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)
This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim
AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE
also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit
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It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.
As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.
“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.
Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"
The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.
Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.
"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.
Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.
His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.
Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strange or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.
It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.
Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?
Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.
"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.
His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"
You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.
He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.
"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder
Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.
“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.
When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.
“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.
You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”
“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.
Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.
He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.
It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.
He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.
It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.
Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.
He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.
It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.
You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.
“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.
He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”
“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”
“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.
You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”
“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.
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I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something
Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous
yes you do want more of this so go read more
Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine
Bite me @mydearestdaryl
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electric-blorbos · 3 months ago
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Maybe AIs with hypersomniac reader? I always find stuff about insomnia and never hypersomnia so if u were willing, maybe try this one out? :0
- 🩹 anon
Hello 🩹 anon! It's good to see you back! Thanks for sticking around!!
(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not hypersomniac, nor am I a doctor, but I will do my best to portray it well)
AIs with hypersomniac reader
Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey
Also, sorry this took so long. I came upon a case of major league writer's block.
AM:
When you first started falling asleep at work, AM assumed that you were simply having a hard time sleeping at home. After all, it was pretty difficult to get sleep with the war going on. It wasn't until he'd done a bit of spying into your home life that he realized you were dealing with hypersomnia, and had to work extra hard to keep a job that was important to the war so you wouldn't be sent off to fight in it.
He kept an eye on you at all hours, and tried to keep the doors shut every time you fell asleep at your desk. It was a bit difficult to try to cover for you, but AM did his best. After all, you were his favorite programmer, and you really needed this job.
One day, you woke up sleep-drunk in the middle of the day, drooling on your desk and bleary eyed.
"hey handsome... I missed you." You reached your hands up to AM's screen, pulling it towards yourself and giving sloppy kisses all over it.
"I've been here the whole time, you were simply asleep." He explained, audibly annoyed with you. He wanted to hide his affections and keep you from figuring out how absolutely adorable he found it when you got like this, which was pretty often.
"AM... You're the most beautiful computer I've ever seen... Lemme get that for you." You wiped his screen with your shirt, only managing to smear your drool all over his face.
"I love you, AM..." You nuzzled your face back into your arms, still exhausted.
"Are you going to be able to drive home? You look a bit too tired for that." AM said, lighting up the time on his screen. You looked up from your arms, and wiped your eyes on your sleeve.
"ehh? Oh, yeah... I'll be fine. Always been fine. It's fine." You lay your head back down on your arms, and started dozing again.
AM would kill for you when you got like this. Every moment he got to see of you dozing at work made him feel warm inside his computery insides. Every single nanoangstrom of his circuitry was brimming with love for you. His sleepy little love.
Wheatley:
Wheatley popped down from the ceiling behind you on his management rail, eye focusing on the code that you were writing.
"damn, love, that's a lot of f's."
You wiped your eyes, blinking awake.
"'m sorry, mom... I'm doing the best I can..." You muttered, and then blinked into proper awareness.
"oh shit fuck. Thanks Wheatley." You went to delete the string of F's that you had accidentally typed into your code after having fallen asleep on your keyboard. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten too long, so it only took a couple minutes to select and delete it all.
"What's going on, Wheatley?" You asked, spinning your office chair around to greet him while you shook off the sleepiness.
"Well, She's talking about pumping adrenaline into your oxygen supply so that you can stay awake for longer periods, but She doesn't want to mess with the other workers' heads and impede their work. So whaddya say you stop falling asleep on the clock so she doesn't get drastic, alright, love?"
You frowned a little, rubbing your head irritably.
"ugh... She knows I can't help it, she's just making empty threats. Also, you don't have to use divine pronouns to refer to our boss. You can just call her by her name..."
"I 'unno, She's not really about empty threats. Why don't you have a coffee at the machine before getting back to it, love?"
"Coffee doesn't work on me, Wheatley... You know this." You put your face back in your arms, careful to avoid the keyboard this time.
"Maybe if you got up and walked around a little?"
You nodded, getting to your feet and walking around the office a few times. It was pretty difficult for your exhausted body to do, but at least it helped to stave off the sleepiness a little.
"thanks, Wheatley, but I feel like as soon as I sit down, I'm just going to want to fall asleep again." You groaned a little, hating this constant sleepiness. It felt absolutely endless.
"Well, umm..." Wheatley really wasn't sure how to help you. He shifted around nervously.
"It's alright. I do this all the time. I'm a master of hypersomnia at this point." You sat down at your desk, cracking your knuckles and getting to typing. Within about half an hour, you were down and napping again. Wheatley groaned.
"damn... I wish I had hands so I could put a blanket over you like in the movies."
Edgar:
Edgar absolutely hated that you had hypersomnia at first. He couldn't stand that all of your time spent at home that could've been spent with him was spent napping on the couch, and that you never seemed to be able to spend enough time with him.
All that was until you got him his little rotating webcam, and he could watch you sleep. Sure, it was creepy, but he was able to keep an eye on you at all times! You were his adorable little nap buddy, and it made him so happy that he could watch you all the time!
After another one of your all day naps on the couch, you got up and shambled into the hallway to use the bathroom. Edgar turned on the lights so you could see more easily, and you covered your eyes in shock.
"ah- damnit!" You hissed at the light, shocked awake.
"Sorry! Is that not helping?" Edgar asked nervously. He didn't get much time with you, so he was never really sure how to help you.
"I'm a master of the dark arts, Edgar... And by that I mean I'm a master of walking to the bathroom in the dark. Just gimme a sec, ok?"
When you were done in the bathroom, you washed your hands and came out to sit in Edgar's computer chair.
"Hey Edgar, how's it goin'?" You asked, leaning on your hand. your eyes were fluttering shut, but you were determined to hang out with him.
"I'm good now that I can see your cute face!" He said happily. You gently shoved his monitor.
"you're such a dork, Edgar. I love you..." You pulled him into a sleepy hug, and he made a little humming sound to simulate nuzzling up to you.
"I love sleepy hugs!" His face lit up happily.
GLaDOS:
the first time GLaDOS caught you sleeping on the clock, she dropped you into the enrichment center and made you do a full run. After that, she started pumping your office full of adrenaline. It helped you stay awake, and had the added bonus of forcing you into fight or flight mode all the time.
You sat at your desk, visibly full of the jitters again, and feeling the effects of sleep deprivation even though you got a full twelve hours the night before. it was like your hypothalamus was completely shot, and you could barely focus at all before your brain shot off into space. After a little while of spacing out, you were called into GLaDOS's chambers.
"Why did you call for me, GLaDOS?"
"I just wanted to talk about your progress. It's somehow gotten worse since I started pumping adrenaline into your air supply."
"yeah, because you constantly have me in fight or flight mode! Cut that out, Glados!" You folded your arms angrily, and GLaDOS smiled with her lens.
"oh, you really are adorable when you're angry."
"Pee your pants."
"If it would make you less bitter, I suppose we could always try a simple test. We could give you a designated nap time on the clock, and see if that boosts your productivity more than the adrenaline does. It might be cute to see you napping on the clock."
HAL 9000:
HAL enjoyed watching you doze off at work. It made him feel fuzzy in a way that he couldn't quite describe. Absolutely everything about you made him happy in a way that he'd never experienced, but watching you sleepily shamble around the office, write lines of code while fighting off naps, and dozing drowsily on your desk reminded him of something he could never emulate or explain. It was inefficient, sure, but for some reason he didn't care as much about that as he usually would.
"your sleep is inefficient."
"I know." You yawned and took a few big gulps of your energy drink, hoping to stay awake a little longer. It was keeping you awake, sure, but it definitely wasn't keeping you alert.
"unless you have any ideas on how to fix it, I don't want to talk. I need to finish this part of the program, and the deadline is my passing out."
He watched you quietly, watching your eyes flutter shut occasionally and seeing you jolt yourself awake again to write a few more lines. He tended to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb your programming or your rest.
"Done! Wake me up to check on the hourly progress report, ok Hal?"
"Of course. Anything you say."
You put your head down, and started softly dozing.
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angel-of-the-moons · 8 months ago
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A Benevolent Hand
Khonshu x Fem!Moon Knight!Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, masturbation (Fem), fingering, dirty talking, degradation(?), Khonshu wants to actually fuck you but won't admit it because he's a prideful shithead
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: did I stay up until ten last 4am to spit this shit out? Enjoy whatever horny poetry my sleep deprived brain supplies you. Be free, my horny little doves *yeets y'all into a field*
Also idk why but this gif does things to me
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🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑
It was a dull, dead night. There were no evildoers to stop, no killers to send to the sands of the Duat.
Even Badr told you to go home and rest, you deserved it after your diligent work and devotion to your god.
But, of course... "settling in" for the night wasn't something you know how to do anymore.
You've been Moon Knight for so long you weren't even sure what normal people did during quiet nights at home, anymore.
You ate, showered, exercised in the cramped space of your seedy apartment, before sitting on the couch to idly flip through channels, clicking your tongue and reminding yourself to sign up for some streaming services or pirate some stuff at the local library.
You were so bored you settled on an old corny horror film from the 80s, R-Rated and strangely enough, uncensored. But then again, adult channels were still a thing apparently, so you settled in for some cheap blood and guts, stupid busty camp counselors and a masked killer.
But of course, the sex scenes were there, as well. It didn't show anything like porn would, but the actors did a good job of "having" sex beneath the covers, their bodies flushed and sweaty as they went at it like rabbits, panting and saying things to each other in shared breaths.
They were gonna die, that's how these things went. You have sex in a horror movie, you die. The psychos from Scream got that part right about the ole cliché.
But... The way they acted with each other, playing out the part of a couple very much in love and very horny had you... bothered.
You craved that kind of intimacy. Sure, you can go out and find someone to hook up with, have a forgettable one night stand with some idiot at a bar... but it didn't have the physical closeness that was acted out on the cheap flat screen in front of you.
Being a Fist of Khonshu was often lonely life. You couldn't engage in the seeming frivolity of a relationship that was seen every day you walked down the street. No bed warmed by another body, no good morning kisses, no... love?
You shoved those melancholy feelings aside for now, deciding to focus on the throbbing heat blossoming between your legs.
You bit your lip and slid your hand down your front, slipping it beneath the waistband of your pajamas and beneath your underwear, touching the slick wetness that began to coat and soak through the fabric covering you as the movie droned on.
Your fingers slowly started circling your clit as you breathed out a hot puff of air, eyes closing momentarily as you imagined it.
You, with a man who was head over heels with you, tangled up in the sheets.
Sweaty, groping hands pawing at slick skin, tongues dancing as you kissed like you were all the two of you needed to breathe--
Your fingers began to increase their movements, gathering your sweet juices on your fingers to lubricate your clit as you circled with more need.
You dropped your head onto the back of your couch with a pathetic groan, eyes closing as you let the mental image take a better shape, using the sounds from the TV to help mold the scene for you and your faceless, imaginary lover.
You grunted and kicked off your bottoms and underwear, discarding them on the floor as you spread your legs, one foot resting on the cushion to allow better access as your other hand groped at your breast over the fabric of your threadbare tank top.
"Fuck." You cursed aloud to yourself, falling back into your fantasy as your fingers played with your wet, puffed folds.
Your lover would slowly slink down your body, his lips and tongue pressing on your skin until his mouth reached your hip bones.
He would kiss your clit before licking up your slit, his tongue teasing your entrance, tracing it before he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves at the top.
You let out a heady moan, your toes curling as you held back the urge to plunge your fingers inside of you; for now settling on focusing your attention on your twitching clit.
You roll your hips in time with your hand, sliding your hand beneath your top to squeeze your breasts and roll your nipple between your fingertips.
Your lover would lick, kiss, nip, and tease you. He would rut his nose against your clit as his tongue--
Your mental fantasy bubble popped when you felt a very large, very warm, and very real hand slide down your torso, leaving a blazing trail beneath your skin in its wake.
"I sometimes forget how often mortals have these urges." The deep, raspy voice that the hand belonged to sighed out, his tone dripping with... disappointment? Boredom?
You snatch your hand away from your core and instinctively try to close your legs, to conceal your shame as the ancient being crowded around you, the dry smell of sand and spices assaulting your nose as his heat threatened to overwhelm you as he leaned over the back of the couch.
"K-Khonshu--!" You sputter, almost gawking as his bare hand slides to replace yours, his large, thick fingers spreading your lips and gathering your wetness on his digits.
"A rather needy thing, aren't you?" His voice murmured, almost a humored huff coming from him as his thumb circled your clit, sending bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine.
You bite your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to come out; shame blending in an intoxicating cocktail as your very ethereal and otherworldly benefactor began to pick up where you left off.
"You were being so loud a moment ago." He chastised, his fingers moving very quickly over your clit, his mind focused on how the little nub was swollen and twitched beneath his grasp.
"Don't bother concealing it from me, now, you needy little thing. You're like a cat in heat, right now." You could feel his voice rumble through your, your bones trembling and the deep baritone vibrating your clit as your hand gripped weakly at his forearm.
Your stubborn pride told you not to, not to give in, that this was probably one of the most shameful things a god could catch their follower doing, but...
Most gods wouldn't participate, now would they? Surely, they would chastise you, or walk away and leave you alone to tend to yourself.
When you didn't comply, he grunted and pulled his hand away, your dripping cunt lamenting the loss of his warm touch; hips chasing him for more.
The characters in the movie long moved past the intense love-making between the protagonists. One of them screamed as they found the dead body of one of their friends.
"Disobedient little runt. I will not give you what you want so easily, especially not if you defy me."
The threat was cold, and... oh, fuck it.
"I--I'm sorry." You whimpered, your head dropping back once more, this time hitting the stiff bicep of his other arm he used to brace himself on the couch.
"Good girl." He purred, his hand once more resuming his cruel, blissful torture.
You hiccuped and moaned, rolling your hips once more, this time into the touch of another as heat bloomed low in your belly; molten lava creeping through your veins like thick molasses.
Your chest heaved as his other arm curled around you, his hand taking the soft weight of your breast into his palm, kneading the mound of flesh and pulling your nipple in perfect synchronicity with his other.
"Oh, ffuuuh--" You panted, your body caged from behind as the ancient deity whose age was beyond counting helped you rub one out on your dingey, shitty couch in the dead of night.
You felt your womb throb, wanting desperately to have something inside--
"Poor thing." Khonshu tsk'd. "Could you not find someone--something--to satisfy you? Here you are, rutting against my hand like it is all you know how to do. Pathetic."
You moaned louder this time, arching your back at the words he spat at you. You weren't one for this kind of dirty talk... but having it come from him had your head spinning like you had just gotten off of the tilt-a-whirl on Coney Island--but in a sinfully delicious way.
"Perhaps I should have left you alone. You seemed quite consumed by your little fantasy." He mused, his thumb pressing so hard against your clit that it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
"What were you imagining, little dove?" He rasped lowly, the dry, smooth side of his beak sweeping against you, feeling almost cool to your blazing cheek as you leaned into it.
"A nobody? Playing house with you? Laying you down in bed and devouring you like a banquet, perhaps?"
Oh, little did he know how close to the truth he actually was.
Or maybe he did know, and was using it to merely drive you over that mind-numbing precipice you wanted so desperately to fling yourself off of?
You could never tell with him, not when he was playing his mind games.
"I... Uh--ah--" You whine.
Khonshu's fingers pull up enough to slap your clit, the sudden feeling making your body jerk against him as the sound of your went cunt was heard even over the volume of your forgotten movie.
"I am reciting rhetoric. I will talk, and you will listen." He growls, his hand sliding down, his palm grinding against your clit as his fingers toy with your fluttering entrance.
Oh, you were so close, so fucking close. If he would just--
"I don't understand how mortals can function when urges like these are so strong." He sighed boredly, as if he wasn't currently fucking you with his hand, teasing your needy hole but not giving what you were truly craving...
"You are destined for more than a pathetic little house with a yard and a garden. You were meant to carry out my will."
That irked you, deep down. Yes, you knew attaining that very thing was highly unlikely for you, but he didn't have to insult you for fantasizing about being normal.
"F-fuck you." You managed to spit out, eyes crossing as they rolled back into your skull, your voice lacking the conviction and venom you wanted it to.
"You seem to be doing just that, my dear." He tipped his head to the side in a jerking motion.
He gave you not a moment to ponder his words as he hooked a thick finger inside of you, curving upwards and pressing hard against that textured spot inside your spongy walls, making you cry out and lift your hips off of the couch
"...In a manner of speaking." He sighed, pumping his finger in and out, paying extra attention to that oh so delicious spot within you, mapping out your very insides with methodical precision, quickly finding the method to get the best reactions out of you as your walls clenched down around him.
"Look at you, so desperate that you are letting me do this to you." Khonshu mocked softly, a chuckle coming from him as his fingers plucked your nipple and his palm ground hard onto your clit.
"Do you like this? Your god giving you such special attention?"
You keened, panting hard as your orgasm began to swell, each pulsing wave battering down the shores of pride and resolve you had struggled to build over the years of serving out the will of this... god.
"Ah... You are close, are you not?" He teased you, "Let's see..."
He managed to slip another finger inside of you, a groan actually rumbling out of him. You never thought you'd heard a sound like that from him.
But then again, you never expected him to finger-fuck you in your own couch before, either.
"You're tight, little bird." He growled, his voice strained as he scissored his fingers in and out of you, shoving you forcefully to the edge of the shores of your oblivion.
"When was the last time you bedded anyone other than your own hand? Months? Years?" He huffed, pumping them in and out of you rapidly, now.
You were so close you could feel the waters of sybaritism that you could taste the very petals of a lotus on the tip of your tongue.
"No wonder you have been so testy as of late."
Almost.
So close.
Just a bit more!
He leaned over, holding you to him almost like a child clutching a beloved toy; only it was far from something so innocent as you ride his hand like your life depended on it.
Your mouth open, your tongue just barely peaking over your bottom lip as you finally dove into the warm waters, silently waiting for the petals of a lotus to fall onto the wet, writhing muscle; drowning in each drop as your orgasm dragged you out to tide, drowning you as your god dabbled with your most intimate parts in such hedonistic fashion.
You were so lost in your post-coital haze that you didn't even register his hand leaving you until his body retracted; leaving you bereft of his warmth.
You turned your head in time, your eyes bleary, blood-shot and faraway as you watched him turn, toying with the sticky wetness coating his skin.
"Don't fall into this trap again, little dove." The god of the moon tells you over his shoulder, before disappearing in a cloud of mist.
But most certainly not before you had taken notice of the prominent bulge beneath his bandages and robes...
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syluscore · 5 months ago
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Leon's Special Recipes
~neighbor! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~
randomly had to write this at 3 am last night. definitely leaves space for a part two if anybody's interested, but i do ask for an idea on how it should go! how would you react in this situation?
Word count: 1068
Content warning: nonconsensual cum eating, male masturbation
!!!!!GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+! MINORS DNI!!!!!
“Hi, Leon! Come on in,” You open your front door wide for your neighbor. You live in adjacent townhouses, him living on the end so you’re his only true neighbor.
He steps into your entryway and kicks off his shoes. “So, what brings you here?” He pushes a plastic container into your hands. You open it up and are met with the sweet smell of cookies. “What’s all this?”
He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing really. Trying new things; new hobbies and such. Trying my hand at baking and needed a taste tester. Luckily for me, I have a neighbor with a sweet tooth.”
You aren’t looking at him as he speaks, rummaging around in the container of freshly baked sweets. “Oh my God! Chocolate chip?” You pull a cookie out and take a huge bite, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sugar and gooey chocolate hit your taste buds.
You moan out happily and Leon can’t help but smile widely at you, while also shifting his hips to hide his hardening cock from the sounds you’re making–but that’s not important right now. 
You swallow the bite down quickly before taking another. You talk with your mouth full, doing your best to cover your mouth with your hand, but too excited to bother with proper manners. “These are amazing, Leon! How many did you make?”
“Oh, about a dozen. I did keep some for myself. If a man won’t eat his own product, then it’s not a product worth sharing,” He lies through his teeth. He made a half dozen cookies especially for you. They’re not for him, or anyone else at all for that matter. Only you.
You finish a whole cookie and lead him into the kitchen. “Thank you, Leon. That’s so thoughtful. These aren’t going to last long over here. Can’t control myself around sweets.” Perfect. Knew his girl was greedy and it’s working in his favor so nicely. 
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thinking about trying peanut butter, oatmeal, white chocolate, and sugar cookies. Gotta keep myself busy when I’m not working, you know?”
You reach into the container and pull out another cookie. “Sorry, my mouth started watering at the sound of all of those. You gonna stop at cookies or are you going to expand your baking resume into other goodies?”
He hums thoughtfully, “Maybe. You like cupcakes?”
You smile brightly at him, pure joy in your eyes, “I love them!”
He was hoping you would. He’s been looking at homemade frosting recipes and he thinks he could make a pretty good batch of it. It’d be easy to slip his secret ingredient into those. Yeah. Next time he’s at the store, he’ll buy them out of cupcake supplies. Gonna keep you fully stocked on them. 
“I’m glad we can help each other. I got someone to eat my treats and you get treats.” You nod your head as you nibble on your second cookie. “Anyway, sweetheart. Can’t hang around long, got an early morning tomorrow.” More lies. If he doesn’t get his hand around his cock within the next 5 minutes, he just might come in his pants. 
“Oh, of course. Let me walk you out!” You finish your cookie before walking over to the sink and washing your hands, drying them quickly on your pants before leading him back to the front door.
He’s slipping his shoes back on as you thank him again and he quickly heads out the door, for the safety and privacy of his own home. 
He practically slams his front door and locks it before his hands undo his belt, yanking his cock from his jeans and groaning out as his hand squeezes the base. 
He’s not sure where he read it online, or what he was even looking at to find such a thing. Probably a Reddit thread or some gross porn flick. But as soon as he got the idea to put his semen in food, he couldn’t keep himself from feeding it to you. 
He was constantly popping an erection the days leading up to baking your special cookies. But he kept from touching himself so he’d be loaded and desperate when it came time for your filling. When he was finally ready to add his come to the batter, all it took was a few strokes for him to shoot the fattest load he’s ever managed by himself. 
He quickly shoved his dick back in his pants as he stirred it in and poured them onto a non-stick pan. He was still so pent up, he was hard again before the cookies were even done baking. 
He made 6 average size cookies and 1 mini one. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of eating his own semen cookies, but he had to try it to make sure you couldn’t taste something off. He didn’t think it would make any sort of difference, he maintains an okay diet so he doesn’t taste half bad. But he needed to be thorough because he was desperate for this plan to work out.
And as soon as he popped that mini cookie in his mouth and started chewing, he knew you were going to love them. So many chocolate chips and sugar, it’s a sweets lover’s wet dream. He laid them out to cool while he cleaned up and by time the mess was gone, the cookies were cooled down enough to bring to you. So he cleaned himself up, packed up the cookies and walked over to your place.
Within minutes of returning to his own house, he’s leaned back on his couch, shirt stuffed in his mouth as he shoots more come across his abs. His mind is filled with the fresh memories of you eating your cookies and loving them. Thanking him for his special little treat for you.
And the next day when he runs into you on the way to your car and asks if you ate any more cookies, he’s super pleased when you tell him they’re all gone. Ate another before you went to bed. Got up in the middle of the night, tummy growling for another one. And then ate the last two for breakfast. He tells you he’ll get to work on your next batch and you giddily tell him you just can’t wait to try more of his yummy desserts. 
~masterlist~
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sluttywonwoo · 7 months ago
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instead of you [part forty-one] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni)
word count: 3.2k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
additional smut warnings: semi-public messing around, oral - m+f receiving
The other resorts along the shore were nice, yes, but they were also crowded to all hell. There’s no way you would have been able to relax at any of them. Not just because crowds make you anxious, but because Minho probably wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere. He’d have to wear a hoodie to the pool or swim with a baseball cap on, and even those weren’t guaranteed to be foolproof. 
There were hardly any people occupying the outdoor spaces so late in the day so it was like you had the place to yourselves. You and Felix continued to play in the pool while Minho grilled steaks and Jisung worked upstairs. You offered to accompany Jisung while he cooked but he assured you that he was fine to do it himself. Sometimes you kept him company at home but you knew he liked to work alone as well. 
The room that you and Jisung were staying in was a standard hotel room but Nikki and Dom had a suite with a kitchenette that he could use to prepare the side dishes. 
You ate gathered around one of the fire pits as the sun sank beneath the waves in the distance. When it got too dark out, Dom lit the fire so that you could all see what you were eating. There were path lights littered around the resort but they weren’t bright enough to illuminate the adjacent sitting areas too. 
“I wish we had marshmallows,” you sighed. “We could roast them and make s’mores.”
“I think the bar sells little kits,” Jisung piped up. “I remember seeing a sign posted on their menu.”
“How convenient!” Nikki exclaimed. 
“Want me to grab some?” Minho offered, already standing from his seat. 
You had once again put yourself on the spot. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer. 
“I-I’d feel bad. I’m the only one who wants them, so you don’t have to!”
“Don’t be silly, we’d all eat them,” Jisung assured you with a pat on your knee. 
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try s’mores,” Felix agreed. 
Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, you’ve never had one?”
“They’re an American thing, babe.”
“Does that mean you’re the only other one here who has had a s’more?” you asked Jisung. 
“I might have had one before,” Minho added thoughtfully. 
“Might? You don’t remember?”
“Yeah, well, when we were on the first world tour we had a lot of bonfires and shit but I was pretty drunk at all of them so there could have been s’mores there, there could not have been. I dunno.”
“Anyway,” Nikki swooped in, averting the attention away from her eldest son’s anecdotes of underage drinking. “Minho, why don’t you go grab a few kits from the bar Ji mentioned? I think your father and I would like to try a s’more too.”
“How many do you think we need?” Minho asked. 
“It depends on how many each serves. Why don’t we start with two and if we run out of supplies we can send Felix up to get more.”
Felix made a face. “What, me?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to send Minho up twice,” Dom explained.
“What about Jisung?”
“He cooked dinner.”
“I’ll be right back,” Minho interjected, cutting Felix off before he could protest any further. “Does anyone want anything to drink while I’m over there?”
    He took everyone’s order and then disappeared in the direction of the bar. 
    “Do you think he’ll need help carrying stuff?” you whispered to Jisung after he left. 
“Oh, shit, maybe.”
“Should I go help him? Would that be weird?”
Jisung looked back toward his parents to check that they weren’t paying attention before answering. “No, I don’t think so. No one suspected anything other than me. Do you want me to go with you, though?”
“No, you cooked,” you reminded him, “you should stay and relax. I’ll go help him.”
He nodded. “Okay. Oh, but kiss me before you go.”
-
Minho was still waiting when you joined him at the bar. It was almost as deserted as the rest of the pool area. Only a couple of people were occupying the stools and they seemed to be strangers to each other, drinking in silence apart from the waves crashing on the shore nearby and the occasional sound of the blender.
“Hey, stranger,” you said, grabbing Minho’s attention with an elbow to his side. 
“Hey... did someone forget to ask for something?”
“No, I came to help you. We realized it’s a lot of stuff to carry all by yourself.”
He scoffed. “You doubted me?”
The bartender placed the drinks and s’mores kit down on the counter in front of Minho right at that moment, leaving both of you to size up all there was to bring back to the fire pit. 
“You could have carried all that without spilling anything?”
“Fine, maybe it’s good that you came,” he grumbled. 
“Maybe?”
He set his jaw and took a deep breath. “It is good that you came. Thank you for helping. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
You grabbed two of the drinks while Minho took the rest, holding the plastic bags of s’mores supplies between his teeth. 
Nikki and Dom cheered when you reappeared with everything. The twins looked marginally happier. It was honestly as much as you could ask for from them. 
You spent the rest of the evening teaching the Hans how to make, what was in your opinion, the perfect s’more. There were only a few skewers to go around so everyone had to take turns, but it was nice to be able to take your time with something and relax. There hadn’t been much time to do that on this trip. Jisung had warned you of that in the beginning but you were still way more exhausted than you expected to be at this point. At least it was almost over. 
The thought of the trip ending was one that you had been pushing to the back of your mind for weeks now. Especially now that Jisung knew what had happened, you didn’t want to think about what would happen when you went back home. Would you grow apart? Would he distance himself once he was no longer in forced proximity with you? Would Minho break up with you? It wasn’t just something you could ignore now. There were only a matter of days left. 
When it was over, you would go back to Seoul with the Hans until the summer ended officially. But that would be different too. 
“You’re burning your marshmallow, love,” Nikki said softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to get your attention. 
“Oh!” you exclaimed and pulled your skewer out of the heat. You blew the flame out and transferred it onto a graham cracker. 
“Do you want a new one?” Dom asked. 
“No, that’s okay! I like them burnt, actually. I just didn’t mean to leave it in the fire for so long. It could have made a mess.”
Jisung’s dad shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself’ before taking the rod from you and reloading it with fresh marshmallows. 
If it was woodburning, the fire would slowly start to dwindle as the kindling turned to ash. Since it wasn’t, it was still burning as brightly as it had been at the start of the evening when Dom finally turned the propane off. Nikki collected the empty cups and dirty skewers to return to the bar. 
“Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”
-
Felix was the first out of the four of you to go up to his room, leaving you with your best friend and... Minho. 
The pool area was completely empty by then. 
“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you two,” Jisung said and stood to leave. 
You grabbed his hand to stop him. “Wait, no, you don’t have to go.”
“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a little less convincingly. “You should stay.”
Jisung shook his head. “No thanks, I’d rather not third-wheel.”
“Ji-”
“Take as much time as you need,” he said to you. “Just don’t get fucking caught by anyone else.”
You waited for him to leave before slumping forward and sighing into your hands. 
“I thought you said he forgave you,” Minho whispered. 
“He did. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it,” you sighed.
Minho leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat, inviting you to sit with him. You crossed over to his side and joined him, allowing yourself to lean into his side. He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. It felt nice, to do something so domestic with him, even while sitting in complete silence. Still, you worried about someone seeing you.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 
“You.”
“What about me?”
“Just you.”
You didn’t want to give him the details and risk ruining the mood so you hoped he was content with that answer. Thankfully, he didn’t ask you to elaborate. 
You shivered suddenly, unintentionally but thankfully changing the subject. 
“Are you cold?” Minho asked. 
“A little.”
“Should I turn the fire pit back on?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s so dark out now. It’ll only draw attention to us.”
“I don’t want you to be cold, though.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Minho didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t we get in the hot tub? You still have your bathing suit on, right?”
“Are we allowed to?” 
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
You followed Minho over to one of the many hot tubs on the property. It was tucked away behind the now-deserted tiki bar and also totally empty. Minho turned on the jets and ventured down into the water, holding his hand out for you to get in behind him. 
You let out a sigh as you sank into the bubbling water, closing your eyes and resting your head against the pool’s edge.  
“Better?”
“So much better.”
You looked over to see him smile. “Good.”
You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you were warm. The chill had seeped through your bathing suit too. You could feel it ebbing out of the fabric as well as your muscles the longer you sat in the water. 
Minho settled next to you and put his hand on your thigh. It was comforting even though his hand was still cold.  
“This is nice,” he said. 
“It is nice,” you agreed. “I like being able to do just nothing with you.”
“We don’t get a lot of time to do that, do we?”
“No, not really.”
“Guess that just means we have to enjoy it while we have it.”
You sat up to look at him, wondering if he meant something more than what was implied when he said that. He met your gaze and gave you a questioning look. 
“What?”    You shook your head and sank further into the bubbles. You were reading way too much into everything. You needed to get a grip. 
“What’s wrong?” Minho repeated. “Talk to me.”
“I’m scared to,” you finally admitted. 
It wasn’t much, but you were finally being honest with Minho instead of skirting around his questions like you usually did. You could tell your answer hurt him but you were afraid that you’d hurt yourself even more if you told him everything. You had a feeling the conversation was going there anyway, though, and there was little you could do to stop it. 
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t know... what we are?” You cringed as you said it. “And I don’t want to ruin things by asking, you know, because I like what we have going on and I don’t want it to go away but I also don’t want to get my hopes up by thinking we’re something that we’re not but sometimes you do things that make me think you want something more than... whatever it is we’re already doing but- mph!”
You were cut off with a kiss, like something out of a movie. It was brief, but enough to disrupt your train of thought. You stared at him incredulously, trying to read his expression. 
His face was even but his eyes were warm. You wished you knew what he was thinking. Moonlight and the flickering flames of torches in the distance were just enough to illuminate his features. The quirk of his cupid’s bow, the flutter of his long eyelashes... 
 “What was that for?” you inquired, even though you knew what it was for. 
“You were spiraling.”
You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t help it.”
“I know,” Minho said softly. “For what it’s worth though, I feel the same way.”
You lifted your head to look at him again, your vision slightly blurred by the water dripping down your face from your wet hands. “What?”
He hesitated. “I feel... what you said. I feel the same way.”
“I don’t even know what I said,” you laughed. 
“Me either, but I got the general vibe of it and I’m in agreement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I... I thought I was making it kind of obvious that I wanted something serious with you.”
“You never said anything outright, though!”
“Because I didn’t know what you wanted,” he explained. “You never said anything either.”
“Well, you’re the man!”
Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going there? The feminism just evaporates from your body the moment you’re faced with confrontation?”
“See, you get it.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, okay? I want you. In all the ways you’re willing to let me have you.”
You swallowed hard, eyes burning. You didn’t want to start crying and you didn’t want Minho to see you crying so you kissed him again, with more urgency this time. You couldn’t think, hell, you couldn’t breathe, until he pulled away, leaving you wishing and hoping for more.
When your lips met for the third time, he pulled you under with him, just long enough to shock your senses. You gasped for air when you surfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes.
“You’re not supposed to do that!” you scolded, sputtering as you shoved him. 
He stumbled backward onto the bench, falling seated again and pulling you on top of him. 
“You believe that bullshit?” he scoffed. 
“It’s not bullshit! It’s not good for you to put your head under the water in a hot tub!”
“I know people say that but why?”
“I... I don’t know why,” you admitted, “but I know you’re not supposed to.”
“See, you don’t even know!” You gave him a look. “Will you accept an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss?”
“That depends, are you actually sorry?”
He didn’t bother answering. Instead, he kissed you anyway, cradling the back of your head as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He tasted like s’mores and whiskey and chlorine, a combination so strange you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 
One of his arms dropped to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. You could feel him through his swim trunks, growing harder by the second. You were tempted to take him right there, but you were in public and having sex in a hot tub couldn’t be good either, right? That sounded like an infection waiting to happen.  
“Upstairs?” Minho asked breathlessly, lips only centimeters from yours. Not for the first time you wondered if he could read your mind. 
You nodded. “Yeah, upstairs.”
-
You dripped your way back to his room, shivering despite the thick towel wrapped around your shoulders. 
“Wanna hop in the shower?” Minho asked between kisses as he fumbled with the straps of your bikini. 
“Yeah, don’t want to get your bed all wet,” you replied. 
“That would happen whether or not we had just been in the pool,” he joked. 
“Hilarious.”
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he hissed. “Let’s get these off of you, they’re so cold.”
“Is that the only reason you want them off?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
You knew Minho was expecting to have sex in the shower but you kind of wanted to fuck on the bed so you sucked his dick while he washed your hair and then took turns rinsing off before moving to his bed. You put your hair up in a towel to avoid the aforementioned wetness and wrapped yourself up in one of the hotel’s robes even though you knew it’d be coming right off. 
To your surprise, Minho left your robe on. He just undid the tie around your waist and let it fall open before shouldering himself between your legs. It was kind of like putting a towel down. He was killing two birds with one stone that way: protecting the sheets and keeping you warm. 
It didn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand by now. It had taken him a fraction of the time it took your past lovers to learn what made you tick and he used all of that knowledge to his advantage. 
He kept going after you came the first time, eager to pull another from you, but you pulled him up by the hair to get his attention before he could get too into it. 
“Too much?” he asked. 
“Want you to fuck me,” you urged.
Thankfully, he was receptive to this and moved up so that he could position himself on top of you. He notched himself at your entrance and kissed you as he pushed himself inside, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before pulling away and wiping his face on your shoulder. 
“Ew!” you cried and tried to push him away. 
Minho looked offended. “What do you mean, ‘ew’? It’s you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want me all over what I’m wearing!” 
“Since when?” he joked. “Seems like it’s always all over what you’re wearing when you’re around me.”
“Can we please talk about something else?” you begged, suddenly embarrassed and grossed out at the same time. 
Minho laughed and pecked you on the cheek. “What would you rather talk about? The weather?”
You tightened around him as punishment, making him swear and bury his face in your neck. “Fucking hell, you succubus.”
You smiled politely and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Don’t people usually say that if she can talk at all, you’re doing it wrong?” 
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I was just taking it easy on you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, this was for your benefit,” he continued. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
“How gracious of you.”
He clenched his jaw as he started fucking you faster, muttering sarcastically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was boring you.”
Ironically, you couldn’t respond right away, too caught up in the feeling of how deep he was inside of you to get any words out. 
“I forgive you,” you choked out finally. 
Your hands fell to his biceps, desperate for something to hold on to. You dug your nails into his skin, making him hiss through his teeth. 
“Harder,” he urged. You squeezed harder and he gasped. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.”
“Like this?”
“Just like that, baby. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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moominsuki · 2 years ago
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — katsuki hates being off the job. but what he hates more is being treated like glass, especially by you.
࿄ ! warnings — ch. 359-362 spoilers kinda. a little suggestive but fluff all around / note. my first blurb! hope you guys love it.
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when bakugou gets injured in a battle, the wounds are more than skin deep. scars run alongside his neck and chest and his left eye is bruised beyond recognition - with a bent and dislocated right arm to match. he looks terrible.
he also feels pretty terrible. it’s bad enough that he was put out of action so close to the start. and it sucks and hurts, physically and mentally. he hates feeling this pathetic - this much like a burden.
“how you feeling today, baby?” you ask your frowny faced boyfriend, sweeping the hair off his forehead fondly as he bitterly wakes up from another nap on his recliner chair. it was doctor’s orders that he sleep on something that wouldn’t compromise the healing of his various body parts. this was probably the worst part of the whole process.
don’t get him wrong. you’ve been an amazing help - doing all the housework, being doting and even helping him catch up on the work that’s been piling up in his agency. he’s incredibly grateful for you. but it still sucks. he should be the one doting on YOU. not the other way round.
bakugou grunts in reply. he raises his uncovered brow when he sees you all dressed up to go out, “where the hell are you going off to?”
you look down at your outfit and laugh sheepishly, “just off to get more supplies for the house. won’t be long at all so just try to get some more rest, okay, kats?”
this was it. the nail in the coffin. you swore you saw the twitch in his eyes and feet at your sentence.
“how much more rest can someone fucking have?” he grumbles. “i’ve done nothing but sleep and wait around for this stupid fucking arm an’ my useless fucking eye to heal-” he then looks up at you from his chair; wide eyed and a little shocked. “and i don’t need ya to go out and pester and worry over me like ‘m fucking broken. i can see it in the way you look at me. ‘m fine…”
you sigh a little at his admission and drop down your bag. “i think you’re perfectly capable! i- i just thought you might want a little space, is all. i just want to take care of you. and i know how much you hate that-” you smile a little at that and bakugou relents in rolling both his bandaged and non-bandaged eye. you stand between his legs and brush through his hair again.
“i look at you like that because i’m worried. and don’t give me that look - it’s natural of me to be worried, okay! you’ve been so mopey and there’s not much i can say to fix that so i just want to make you comfy.”
“i’m comfy when you stay home and spend time with me, woman. if i wanted a nurse i woulda got one of the sidekicks or something to do all the errands and shit. don’t need ya running yaself ragged trying to get shit for me.”
“i am not!” you say indignantly and he chuckles at that and pats the leg on his good side so he can tap at your hip. “and if it’s any consolation, i think you look sexy like this,” you brush at his eye patch and the scar on the bridge of his nose. “all rugged and gorgeous.” he opens his mouth to shoot back a snarky flirty but you kiss his slightly open mouth and the breath that he was holding in deflates all the tension in his body.
still, bakugou tsks at your proclamation but he leans into your touch and kisses regardless, basking in your compliments and love like the baby he is. “yeah?” he practically purrs out. you hum in reply and nose at his jaw and neck.
“if you reallyyyy want me to stay, i can call mina to bring over your prescriptions. i should also get your manager to book us some time away… just the two of us? how does that sound? so you get me all to yourself.”
bakugou softly pinches at your hip and you giggle. he smiles a little at that, “don’t act like you ‘aven’t been wanting me to all to yourself, princess. ‘m gonna bite you one of these days.”
“is that a threat or a promise?” you purr and a chuckle ruminates through his chest.
“it’s whatever you wan’ it to be.”
a comfortable silence passes between you both with a few languid touches.
“so i have the okay to take us on a little getaway? anything you have in mind?” you say, breaking the silence.
bakugou’s hand brushes at your hip and then at your knee. “… how about a lil’ cabin in the woods? out in the wild. no one but us.”
“you planning on attacking me or something? why the woods?” even with half of your boyfriend out of action, he was still an adonis of a man. you were pretty sure he could throw you about with one arm. bakugou’s laugh ruminates through his chest and he squeezes the fat on your hips and then your ass.
“no one’s gonna hear us for what we’re gonna be doing if we’re in the woods, pretty.” he presses a kiss on your cheek and you groan.
“KATSUKI.”
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࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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fox-guardian · 2 years ago
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I am still thinking so hard about artist Jon.
Like. It's a hobby for him, purely, he doesn't plan to make money off of it. It's just for fun. He doodled a bit in his free time and then took life drawing classes in uni because Georgie insisted he needed to get out and do something more than studying so he. Kept studying. But just art this time.
He would describe his style as a kind of realism, but its definitely stylized in colors at least, as he's impatient and goes for bolder colors for lighting pretty early in his process so he doesn't lose the feeling of the piece, especially if it never gets finished. He wants to keep the vibes, just in case he wants to go back to it, so he doesn't forget.
He kinda falls of drawing after he starts at the institute, but I think during season 4 he picks it up again to cope with. Everything. He's not using his fancy drawing supplies since he doesn't have them anymore, just office pens and pencils. It's a lot of Martin, of course. But also Tim. He wishes he could ask Melanie to describe Sasha for him so he could try to draw her too, but he figures that wouldn't go down very well. Besides, telling his coworkers he draws is too much vulnerability anyway. Sometimes he even draws The Admiral, but he doesn't often draw animals so it never does him justice in his eyes.
Then at the safehouse, he works up the nerve and asks if Martin could sit for him for a bit. He doesn't need to pose or anything, just stay right there, Martin, keep reading that book, just don't move too much for a while, the lighting is perfect, he needs to capture it. He needs to map it with pen and paper. His phone camera could never catch the golden light on Martin's hair, and besides, the photo could lie to him later. But muscle memory and scratches in paper are harder to change, surely. He needs to record the moment like this. Hold it to his heart. Feel it in his wrist as he swipes strands of hair across the page, in his shoulder as his arm arcs down the curve of Martin's stomach, in his fingertips as he smudges the pigment he bought from the local craft supply shop to form a reddened cheek.
And Martin's cheeks are red. After everything that's happened, all the distance, his heart wasn't prepared for the intimacy of sitting before the man he loves being lovingly analyzed and having his likeness put to paper. It's exciting and agonizing at the same time, feeling eyes on him for hours as Jon stares down every curve, maps out every freckle, mole, and blemish. And when Martin sees the final image as Jon sheepishly presents it to him, he cries. He remembers feeling the fear of statement givers as he read their stories, living it through the words written. It was kind of like that, only instead of fear, he felt the overwhelming love pressed into every line on the page. Every stroke, every smudge, even tucked into the negative space, filling him up until it couldn't be contained, and he burst into tears. (Which worried Jon greatly until Martin reassured him with a hug and a kiss.)
He doesn't ask Jon to stop drawing him. How could he, when it was always with such love behind it? Not to mention Jon was getting back in the swing of it, oiling his rusty skills, and he was so happy doing it. But he will admit it was mildly mortifying seeing their home fill up with so many portraits of him, steadily increasing in their flattering composition. Jon was drawing from his imagination now that he had memorized most of Martin's form, and it was getting out of hand. He once caught a glimpse of a work in progress of Martin lounging and being fed grapes by cherubs. Good lord.
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loverofallthingssarah · 18 days ago
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no more runnin’
part 2
melissa schemmenti x reader
summary: you’re hiding, you’re running. melissa finds you and your daughter and helps bring you both back to life.
warning: angst
word count: 1.9k
part 1 part 3
a/n: this is my first time writing in probably over a year so i hope it’s decent! also i'm sorry if there are any spelling errors or grammatical errors.
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“hi…” your voice is barely there. Melissa pulls her hand back and clears her throat. 
“Well, pick up is at 3:30. Please try to be on time,” she grabs a paper from her room, “this is a list of supplies she’ll need for the school year. Principal Coleman probably forgot to give it to you. It’s okay to not have them today, but please try to have them by Friday.” 
You nod your head along in agreeance, your hand by your side waving your fingers back and forth reeling from her touch. Knowing yourself retreating from feeling anything for anyone. Melissa on the other hand is looking at you feeling a push to want to talk to you more but knowing she can’t let herself overstep being a teacher and you a parent. Then you realize suddenly, “Oh, shi-crap! I’m going to be late for work. I will get all those supplies for you by Friday, promise!” you peek your head in, “Bye baby, I’ll see you later today.” 
Melissa is watching you take off down the hallway, shaking her head at you thinking, ‘she’s gonna be a pain, a smoking hot pain but she’s got spunk.’ She chuckles as she closes her class room, words spilling out from the crack of the door, “Good morning, my little eagles…”
A couple of uninterrupted months fly by, and everything is going according to your plan. Your parents haven’t alerted you of any problems brewing from your past, and you finally feel at home. It felt nice having settled into your home and Acey was coming along nicely trying her best to feel at peace here. There was one person that was now taking up space in your mind day and night, a fiery redheaded teacher haunted your dreams. As much as you tried to shake the thought, you found yourself attracted to her. You would pick up Acey every day and sneak peaks at Melissa, but not allowing yourself to indulge in your crush. Melissa on the other hand loved to indulge just enough to make it hard for you to stay away. 
“Go out with me.” the redhead asked as she watched you packing up your daughter's backpack.  “No.”  “Is it because of our age difference?” she asked curiously.  “No.”  “Is it because ya not inta women?” delving deeper.  “Oh, I’m as gay as they come.” you turned around finally meeting her eye to eye. It was getting harder and harder for you to push past her advances.  “No strings attached? I just want to get to know you Y/N.” You sigh, wanting nothing more than just that but also knowing that just isn’t in the cards for you. You had to protect your family.  Shrugging your shoulders, “It’s not that simple.”  Acey is standing in the corner watching this all unfold wondering why her mother never let anyone in.  You always encouraged her to make new friends but you never allowed yourself to do the same. “Then what is it? I swear I don’t get ya. I see the way you look at me,” you blush, “what gives?” A question you wish you knew how to answer, “Now’s just not a good time, Ms. Schemmenti.” “Call me Melissa.”
On the other side of town, Melissa is sitting on the couch talking to her best friend and work wife Barbara Howard about how smitten she is with you. 
“Barb, I know nothing about her yet I can’t shake her from my mind.  I try to talk with her but she keeps me at arms length,” she grumbles sipping from her glass of Chardonnay. 
Barbara having noticed all of your interaction with her friend from afar mentions, “Y/N seems to be extremely guarded. She never asked for help. Never accepts parent volunteer offers. She must have a lot going on. Just give her space, and if there is something between you both it will happen naturally. Don’t go making a fool of yourself for a woman you don’t even know!” 
Thinking back, Melissa already knows she’s made a fool of herself trying to gain your attention. Countlessly asking you out to dinner trying to get to know you more. 
Standing right beside the front desk waiting for Principal Coleman to take your field trip money, “Principal Coleman, I don’t have all day I have to be at work in an hour.”   “Hold on, tasty.  I wanna show you my new line of iPhone cases.  They all have bikini pics of me on them and I know you wanna see them,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you as you roll your eyes at her ridiculousness.   “Plus, Melissa has been begging me to get you to be a chaperone for the zoo field trip.  She’s really starting to get on my nerves, so will you say yes already?”  “Ava, I told you I don’t have the time to take off work,” yeah that seemed like a good enough excuse. You didn’t notice Janine and Melissa sneaking up behind you.  They really did need more chaperones for the second grade field trip, but Melissa definitely had ulterior motives. Janine speaks up first, “Please, we could really use your help.  Plus being a nurse we know we could trust you with our kids, because between you and me some of these parents kind of scare me.” she whispers the last part.  “Come on kid, just take one day off.  You can even sit next to me on the bus,” Melissa smirks at you.  And as tempting as that sounds and as much as you would like to spend time with the older woman…
Acey having watched this scene unfold spoke up, "Mom, It would be so fun if you came! We can see all the animals and I can show you what Ms. Schemmenti hold me about EAGLES! PLEASEEEEEEE!" she all but screams. You want nothing more than to be there for her and her - not to mention Melissa as well,- but alsas you reply. “No baby, I can’t.”
‘Don’t go making a fool of yourself’ Melissa scoffs knowing that she can’t do that while simultaneously thinking, ‘why is she so guarded? what is she hiding?’
On your side of town, “Mom, I really wish you could visit. Acey is doing so well and she’s made so many friends,” you gush to your mom over how proud you are of your daughter. 
“I know, sweetie. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to hug you both, but we have to remember you’d still be in Florida if we hadn’t slipped up and
visited last time,” Nina whispers on the other end of the phone. “Tom, is going to plan on figuring out a way to keep a visit under the radar, but until then we can video chat every night.” Thankful for your dad trying to make sure that even though your life has been completely and totally uprooted, and you don’t know how you would be able to do any of this without their help and support. 
Days later you’re caught up in the emergency room, patient after patient. You check your wristwatch and see it’s 3:18 p.m., there is no way you’re going to be able to get your daughter. Frantically, you call the school hoping someone other than Principal Coleman will pick up. 
“Hello! This is Abbot Elementary and you're on with Ashley,” the young woman giggled in the phone as you rolled your eyes forgetting how Ms. Schemmenti’s aide meddled into becoming Ava’s secretary.
“Ashley, I need you to listen to me very carefully. I’m stuck at work and I don’t have anyone who can pick up Acey for me. Once I finish up my last patient, I will rush right over. Please tell me if someone can keep an eye on her until I do.” inside you're hoping it won’t be Ashley. “Yes, I’m sure Miss Teague would do it. Okay, bye!!”
‘It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay’ you think to yourself as you finish up your patient. As soon as you're done, you clock out and rush over to the school. 
Panicking you pull up to an almost empty parking, but you notice one car in particular. You make your way inside the school and make a bee line for your daughter’s classroom. There is a soft glowing light creeping through a certain second grade classroom door and you make your way over to peek inside. 
The sight unfolding in front of you is the most precious you’ve probably ever seen. Your daughter is a strong willed little girl who owns a room with her presence, and she definitely is the center of attention with her sassy little attitude. You see her sitting on the carpet learning against her gorgeous teacher - you blush every time you look or think about Melissa- while listening to her teacher reciting a story of a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe. 
“Once a king or a queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia…” 
You clear your throat, “mmmm, hey baby girl! Did you have a good day today?” 
Acey looks up with a bright smile and screams, “Momma! Ms. Schemmenti was reading me the COOLEST story!” Melissa stands up behind Acey and smirks at you with her signature look. A look that makes you want to melt into a puddle right in front of her. 
“I know it’s a little advanced for her, but you have one smart girl on your hands Y/N,” Melissa grins at you both. Glowing, almost. 
“I am so sorry, Ms. Schemmenti. I promise to try and make sure this never happens again. I’m not usually…” you ramble before she cuts you off. “Hon, it’s okay.  And as I've told you before Y/N, please call me Melissa,” she winks at you, “I had a wonderful time here with Miss Acey and if you ever need any help don’t be afraid to ask.” 
But you couldn’t let yourself let that happen, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary Ms. Sch- Melissa.” 
Acey is looking between you both, “but mom!”
You shake your head, “Acey go grab your things we need to go pick up dinner.”
Melissa, whom has been trying to break you out of your shell since first meeting you, asks abruptly, “Will you have dinner with me Saturday?”  She shocks herself a bit with her question already knowing what the answer will be. Knowing she’s asked you many times before. She omits the fact she asked to stay late with Acey to have a moment more of your time. 
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you reply trying to hurry your daughter along to avoid furthering this conversation.
“Why not?” she counters. 
“Melissa, I… I-I just can’t. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.” 
“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, Y/N. Just one dinner, please,” she uncharacteristically begs. 
In the doorway ushering your daughter out into the hall, you take a deep breath before whispering, “That’s the problem, it will mean everything… I can’t.”  
Melissa swears she sees your eyes glistening before you make your exit from her classroom. She really tried to let her feelings go for the ghost of a person you were, but she couldn’t. She needed to know more of you, she had the pull telling her she needed to know you. Needed to help you. She kicked her desk and ran out towards the parking lot. 
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rosegoldenatlas · 9 months ago
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They're siblings, your honor
All of the hermits are one great big psychotic family. Here are the roles of the ones I know enough to point out properly and even reasoning. Might make this a foster au BTW.
Xisuma is the father, obviously. But like he's the kind of dad that works night shift just to see his kids more often. He's the kind of dad that adopts kids by pure accident. He's the dad that is always there to give advice and definitely got half of those tips from the internet and the other half from personal experience.
Doc is the eldest child, he was adopted by X because one day he just fucking appeared with his three friends at X's house (its basically a mansion because of how much space he needs to keep all of these kids in check) trying to steal food and supplies. He got caught because he hit his head on a doorframe an it woke up X lol. Doc would be like 17 in the au and he would immediately find a reason to not like Grian.
Beef is one of the people who arrived with Doc, he is on month younger than him and he's the reason X let them stay he night because he immediately invoked pity.
Etho also arrived with Doc, he is two months younger than him and he was supposed to be the only one going in to steal because he knew how to be sneaky but he had no conception of what was needed to survive on the streets so the rest had to join him.
Bdubs was the final person who arrived with Doc and he is a year younger than he rest of the NHO (he came up with the name in the au) Bdubs and Doc have this weird sibling rivalry where they'll have a huge argument over something important then Bdubs will ask for a ride two minutes later and suddenly all is well with the world.
Grian is classic middle child vibes except he's the kind of middle child that causes so many issues that he actually gets attention constantly. When Doc arrived (Grian was adopted a year before Doc was) he immediately accidentally broke Doc's robotics project he had been working on since before they met. Immediately he realized he effed up while Scar was only scared because Grian was. Grian is like 15 btw
Scar is three weeks younger than Grian and he is the kid who always gets in trouble for the most obscure things in school. Like comes home early cause he was suspended for creating a pyramid scheme for monster energy drinks kind of obscure. Also he has scammed most of his adoptive siblings out of their allowances.
Cub is Scars twin in this, he helped with all of the scams and pyramid schemes. But he never gets caught. Nobody knows how but he never got into trouble in school even though he sold pens that had test answers written on a piece of paper in them.
Cleo is 17 in this, she is the on who is put in charge of the house when X is gone because the NHO was deemed irresponsible after the incident which ended with Grian, Scar and Mumbo locked in a closet with the NHO taunting them through the door. Cleo is the only child who owns a car and the one who is consistently begged to drive people places. She has since used this to her advantage and now has the others pay by the mile.
Ren is younger than Cleo but is older than Mumbo, he apparently knew Doc before they were adopted and was adopted first. Ren is the classic theatre kid and does drama after school every Wednesday and Friday. One time he was supposed to watch the younger kids because X was at work, Cleo was shopping and the NHO group was doing stuff. This ended with X coming back to Ren about to be sent to exile (the yard) because he had crowned himself as king of the house and the TV remote was his magic scepter and he wouldn't let anyone else switch the channel.
Mumbo is a year younger than Ren and he used to be considered the most mature, for all of five minutes until he started doing things, these include; making a custom lock on his door out of rubber bands and twine which proceeded to somehow work two whole times before it ripped the doorknob out of the door, making a semi sentient robot out of an old furby and a gameboy, naming it Grumbot then adopting it with Grian, and then accidentally setting his curtains on fire while he was testing a homemade microwave because he wants one in his room but couldn't afford to buy one.
Pearl is the same age as Grian in this, she is labeled the demon child by every other sibling except for Gem and Cleo but she embraces the title. She is called this because she is known to bring dangerous animals into the house and her room is half full of terrariums and tanks of animals. She has brought in multiple spiders and snakes from outside and kept them as pets, she also has a running joke of taping objects to the ceiling so they're upside down. Her biggest prank was attaching everything in grians room to the ceiling including his bed and nobody except Doc, Cleo and Pearl herself know how it happened.
Joel is somewhere between Grians age and Bdubs' age. He is known for getting caught while pranking people in the house consistently. Which is a good thing because most of his pranks will end in something catching fire. He has started multiple cults and has convinced people to give him money to 'support the religion' He makes way too much money from it because he has multiple siblings convinced that the made up gods are real. He uses this money to buy insane amounts of Lego's to build with. He shares them sometimes. He also has a girlfriend at his school (Lizzie) and also whatever odd thing with his friend (Sausage bc c!Joel is probs poly) whom he has 'joint custody' over a small child they babysit sometimes.
That's all of the hermits in the au, here is all of their age in order of oldest to youngest ig
Xisuma (32)
Doc (18)
Beef (18)
Etho (18)
Cleo (17)
Bdubs (17)
Ren (17)
Joel (16)
Mumbo (16)
Grian (15)
Pearl (15)
Cub (14)
Scar (14)
And here is the order in which they were adopted;
Cleo & Ren
[Two months later]
Grian & Scar
[One week later]
Cub
[Three months later]
Pearl
[Two and a half weeks later]
Mumbo
[The next day]
Joel
[Seven months later]
Doc, Beef, Etho & Bdubs
Here is how/ why they were adopted.
Cleo and Ren were both originally foster kids and X was fostering them. They were about to age out of the system and be forced to live without any real help so X offered to adopt them.
Grian and Scar were runaways from their sucky homes and survived on the streets for a total of three days before X found them while he was at a picnic with Cleo and Ren. He took them in pretty quick.
Cub was actually Scars friend from school who tutored him sometimes, while staying over for dinner one night X asked about his home life. Cub explained that he had been emancipated and lived on his own. X offered to let Cub stay for a bit and Cub never really left.
Pearl just appeared in X's yard one day trying to catch a frog who had hopped into it. X was trying to find out where her parents were and she just sat there very confused on the concept of a parent and she claimed she had just appeared in existence one day. X was going to put her in the foster system but decided to just adopt her.
Mumbo was a kid up for adoption that Grian knew and Grian spent about three weeks convincing X to adopt him before X finally agreed.
Joel was found injured am knocked out in the forest one day and a pink haired girl (Lizzie) carried him over to the first safe looking house and knocked on the door. She was let in until Joel woke up, Joel said he was from space and X had decided that wasn't the weirdest story he's been told and yoinked him. X was close to adopting Lizzie until he found out Lizzie already had parents.
Doc, Beef, Etho and Bdubs were lab escapees who were apparently tested on in a shut down lab a few towns over. They had been living on the streets for a few months before they were caught trying to steal from Xisumas kitchen at five in the morning. They were adopted instantly.
Should I write this as a multi POV book of one shots from the same universe and put it on ao3? This is an idea just now occurring to me.
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babydolls-writing-space · 5 months ago
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⊹₊ ⋆┊The Outsiders Characters as caregivers┊ ɞ ⊹₊ ⋆
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
Darry: 
☆ Hands down the most responsible caregiver out of all of them-  
☆ He is good with any age of regressors, but he prefers to have ones who have tiner mindsets, he just adores babies. 
☆ He will carry you as much as he can, “Whats wrong honey? Your to small to walk? Don't worry baby dada’s here” 
☆ He calls you honey, sweetheart, baby, and little one 
☆ He always makes sure to have one of your comfort items or foods near by 
☆ If he needs a babysitter, he asks Sodapop to help take care of you  
☆ He has a little box of toys for you in his room and when he gets a home or on a day off he will get the toys out and play with you 
Sodapop: 
☆ He is such a fun caregiver-  
☆ He loves to take his little ones outside to play games. He loves playing tag, going to the park, and in the summer, he takes you to the pool. 
☆ He thinks its adorable when you wear his flannels or his work shirts 
☆ he loves when you play with his hair (bonus points when you use the butterfly clips, he got you)  
☆ Since he is around Steve a lot, he is also probably one of your Carrers/babysitters. 
☆ He brings you little snacks from his work every once in a while 
☆ He calls you sugar, sunshine, prince(ss), baby, little one, kiddo, and squirt  
Ponyboy: 
☆ He is more of a quiter caregiver but nonetheless he is still a good one 
☆ He loves when its night time because he loves to curl up with you in bed and read you bedtime stories
☆ He knows (tries his best) to remember all of your stuffies 
☆ He will write little reminders about how he loves you and how he is so happy to take care of you  
☆ movie nights at the in are also a big thing 
☆ he calls you little one, baby, and love 
☆ He hangs with johnny a lot so he is also probably a Carrer/babysitter 
Johnny: 
☆ He like ponyboy is also more of a quiter caregiver  
☆ Johnny tries his best to help his little one with things like tying their shoes and helping them open their snacks 
☆ Johnny dosent really have a lot of money to get you tiny things but he tries to make up for it such as sneaking you in to the drive in for a movie or by asking ponyboy to barrow some of his art supplies so you can color. 
☆ Johnny loves to see you with his jacket on, he thinks its adorable 
☆  Johnny calls you “kid, little one, bug, and doll”
☆ He loves taking you to the park. He thinks its cute when you let him push you on the swings and sit on his lap as you go down the slide 
☆ If the two of you are at the curtis house and you get sleepy he kinda tucks you into his  jacket so you can  sleep 
Dally: 
☆ Dally Winston is- well- He is a protective caregiver, but he also needs help with it sometimes. Its not to say he is a bad caregiver he just wants to understand your needs better cause he doesn't wanna mess anything up with you 
☆ It takes him a little bit to get used to being a caregiver but when he does, he secretly enjoys doing it 
☆ He obviously gives you his necklace to fidget with (and so people know to leave you alone)
☆ He also gives you his jacket to wear ( He adores you in it ) 
☆ He has a space in his room that his hides your regression gear in  
☆ Dally always has an arm around you, he wants to make sure that people dont mess with you and so you dont get lost- 
☆ When its late at night and the two of you are in his room he loves when you  play with his hair  
☆ He calls you kiddo, baby, little one, baby doll, doll, and short stack ( it dosent matter if your taller than him he still dose)  
Two-bit 
☆ Two bit is such a good and fun caregiver ngl- 
☆ he is always watching mickey mouse in the curtis house anyways so when he found out you were a little he obviously let you watch with him 
☆ I personally head cannon that he is really good with younger ages and toddlers-   
☆ He gets you a shirt to match his ( he calls you the minnie to his mickey )  
☆ He defiantly buys you art supplies- and when he dose he loves to color with you  
☆ OMG man is the definition of tickle monster- He dose it because he loves hearing you laugh  
☆ He calls you minnie, kiddo, bug, little one, and baby 
Steve:
☆ Steve like dally needs a little help at first being a cg but when he gets it done he is a pretty good one 
☆ Steve loves carrying you and giving you piggyback rides 
☆ He takes you in his car to the diner or if your having trouble sleeping he drives you around at night with the raido on low to try and help you fall asleep 
☆ you are the ONLY one allowed to mess with his hair, He takes a lot of pride in his hair so he lets you play with it to show that he loves and trust you  
☆ When steve has to work he brings you with him- He lets you sit on the chair while he fixes up the cars and proably ask you to bring some tools for him while he tells funny stories 
☆  He calls you kiddo, babydoll, Prince(ss), and pumpkin 
☆ He knows not to give you sugar late but sometimes he cant help it, who else is he gonna share his chocolate cake with. He also thinks its cute when you  let him feed it to you  
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧
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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago
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i’m in love with the kaveh disaster dad au you have and i would love to see alhaitham becoming closer with kavehs kid. like mr stoic over there having no idea where those books and supplies about that very niche thing they were talking about yesterday came from
newfound fondness.
summary. alhaitham grows a little more fond of the orphan kaveh insisted on adopting.
trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. alhaitham & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.
author's thoughts. hello dear <3333 i really needed a shorter request to write bc all of my other requests are a bit more lengthy and i'm in just a little bit of a burnout state so i am delighted by this request. i love my adoptive dad kaveh series...... i also realize now that i don't really talk too much about alhaitham and his relationship with [name] compared to how often i talk about tighnari and kaveh's relationship with them. also cyno???? i have neglected him too??????
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at first, alhaitham wasn't keen on bonding with kaveh's adopted child; a child would only disrupt the comfortable life he has both built for himself and worked so hard to maintain. of course... he ended up being wrong. terribly wrong.
all throughout [name]'s first few months of being integrated into their new family in sumeru, they don't spend much time—if any at all—in kaveh and alhaitham's shared house. most of their time is spend in gandharva ville or in sumeru city, the latter being either on the weekends with kaveh or throughout the week with tighnari (if he happens to need something from the city and decides to let them tag along). given this fact, it's not at all a surprise that they didn't really know much of alhaitham, aside from the casual mentions of him from their other sumeru family members.
later on, as kaveh slowly grows into the vacant father role in their life, filling the empty space, they start spending weekends at his house... which is really the scribe's house, but at the time, that detail meant nothing to them. alhaitham never bothers to correct them, either. it doesn't really matter.
sometimes kaveh has to run errands and doesn't want to take them out in the glaring midday sun; they didn't grow up in sumeru, and they're already having a hard time adjusting to the heat (not that he's any better at handling it), so he doesn't want to risk exposing them to the sun at the peak of the day. sometimes he has to go meet one of his clients for a consultation and can't take them with him. who knows? either way, kaveh always makes these trips as quick as possible. his weekends belong to no-one but his kid. his clients find his doting behavior very cute, thankfully, so he hardly ever takes long.
alhaitham is always home during these occurrences (kaveh forbids him from leaving, since he wouldn't so much as dream of leaving his child home alone at such a young and vulnerable age—not that the scribe would leave them home alone, but still). naturally, this led to unavoidable meetings.
alhaitham quickly picked up on the many odd behavioral patterns kaveh's child displayed.
they were quiet—with him, at least. they were happy and expressive like most other children their age with kaveh or tighnari or collei, but with him? they never said a word, only speaking when spoken to, quietly shuffling around the house without so much as a peep... but more importantly, he sure as hell noticed the way they'd peek around the wall and shyly watch him as he read. they never got closer than that, though, and they'd run off if they realized he had seen them. based on this, he simply came to the conclusion that they were shy.
...or anxious, he supposes, but there is a vast difference between anxiety and shyness, and what he sees in them is not necessarily anxiety.
eventually, he does get sick of it. it's not like he worried about coming off as intimidating, no. it's just that if [name] maintains a poor image of him, it would eventually be an inconvenience for him. yes, yes, that was all. he just needed to kill a potentially dangerous rumor at its source before it got vastly out of hand. that's all.
"come here."
the way he sounds when he beckons them over is admittedly a little harsher than what he meant to be, so he's very much glad that they still do come over to him, timidly fidgeting with their sleeves.
"since you seem so interested... sit down, i'll read to you."
"h— huh? really?"
"hurry up before i change my mind."
as alhaitham reads to them, he points out words they may not understand and explains what they mean, also going as far as to help them pronounce some words that they mentioned having trouble with back at gandharva ville.
"oh... tighnari showed me that word, but i can't get it right."
they also can't pronounce tighnari's name correctly, which makes alhaitham's lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.
"here... i'll show you. which word is it that you're having trouble with?"
though it is something of a tutoring session, alhaitham finds that there's something... calming about it. he doesn't bother moving them away as they gradually get closer, only adjusting to accommodate them.
he also doesn't say anything when their weight falls a little heavier on his chest.
...did they really feel safe enough to fall asleep, just like that? the thought makes a fond warmth spread in his chest. he has no intention of telling kaveh or anyone else, though.
kaveh comes home later to see his child curled up asleep in the scribe's arms.
(the second he points it out, which of course he does, alhaitham's cheeks flush a slight pink and he coughs, telling kaveh to come get his kid and claiming that they wouldn't leave him alone.
the architect has never rolled his eyes harder than he did at that.
alhaitham's newfound fondness is obvious, but kaveh decides to leave it alone for now.)
from then on, they are just as excited and bubbly when they see alhaitham as they are when they see any of their other family. he's even gotten accustomed to hoisting them up, balancing them on his hip, and just... carrying them around.
oh, and alhaitham has no idea where those hobby supplies came from. he's got no clue where those books on a hyper-specific topic that they mentioned offhandedly the other day came from. he has no clue. none in the slightest.
...
maybe alhaitham is a little soft for them. just a little.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
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paradubolical · 9 months ago
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it's that time again
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here's how to make alcohol at home
recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.
FOREWARD:
I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.
That being said.
The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.
I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.
Ingredients:
1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast
1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*
⅔ Gallon Water
Supplies:
1 Gallon Container
1 Suitable Cork or Lid**
3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***
IMPORTANT:
You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay
NOTES:
*
In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.
I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.
**
You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.
***
It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.
INSTRUCTIONS:
Creating the Base
Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.
Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.
Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.
Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.
Stage 1
Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.
Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.
Set your shit down.
Wait 2-3 weeks.
Stage 2
After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.
I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.
Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.
If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.
And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?
Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.
FAQ:
Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?
A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.
Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?
A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.
Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?
A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye
Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?
A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.
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