#need to be put in a cell with padded walls

[star-quill]

Can you may-haps do one with Quill with a corruption kink🫣 (I just feel like it’s something he’d have)

oh yes he definitely does.

you moved away to a different state for college, hoping to maybe find a boyfriend, settle down and get a good job—and you got none of those things. you did kiss a few guys at parties but it never really went any further. didn't get the job you wanted either, so now you're back living with your parents, which isn't really helping your "find a boyfriend" case.

that's when you spot him. he's out in the driveway talking to your dad, arms folded over his chest as he laughs and throws his head back at something your dad said. you don't know who be is, perhaps a new neighbour you assume.

"who was that?"

"peter, he lives across the road.. just moved back in from being away for a while."

peter. it kinda suits him. and you kinda wanna get to know him more. so you decide to bake cookies and take them over to his, or rather, his grandpa's place. he answered the door with a smile, grinning even more when he saw the baked goods.

"those for us?"

"yeah! i studied culinary arts in college and well, you're new to the neighbourhood so thought i'd put my skills to use and be a good neighbour.."

oh you were so cute. he leaned against the doorframe with his forearm, grabbing a cookie with his other hand and taking a bite.

"oh my god.. these are fuckin' delicious.. here bring them in, my grandpa's out the back.." he stood back from the doorway, letting you in and following you through to the back door, opening it to let you out. he looked you up and down as you walked out, his mind just racing with the absolute filthiest thoughts about you.

once his grandpa took one, you came back inside and left him the tray of cookies in the kitchen, before walking back out his house. you waved at him from across the street and he shut his front door after you went back inside your own house. oh he was done for.

the next week, your parents hosted a mini barbecue, just for family that were visiting but you absolutely begged them to invite peter and his grandpa. which was now how you were sat by the edge of your pool, legs dangling in the water while you ate a strawberry popsicle. peter was sat next to you, his hands leaning back behind him on the ground.

he had to suppress every single thought in his mind as he caught sight of you sucking on the popsicle, your lips turning a dark shade of red. he had to say something or else he'd go insane.

"you think i don't know what you're doing?"

"hm?" you turned to him, popsicle still between your lips as you gazed up at him slightly, with absolutely no clue what he's on about.

"oh c'mon.. so you didn't deliberately sit beside me with that thing and eat it the way you're eating it?"

"no.. am i eating it wrong?"

"no, no.. just.. forget it.." he got up and walked away, grabbing a beer from the ice box and heading inside, chucking the cap into the bin before taking a sip.

"i want you to explain to me what you thought i was doing.." he jumped, turning around to see you standing there, your popsicle gone and your lips still dark red.

"don't think i should.. go back outside.."

"no, i want to know, peter.." you moved around the island now, standing next to him. god, if you weren't standing next to a floor to ceiling window, he'd bend you right over the counter and take you right there.

"you really wanna know?"

"yes."

"thought you were deliberately sucking on that popsicle, trying to get my dick hard.. thought you were imagining things, like pretending that popsicle was my dick.. but judging by that gasp, you don't know what the fuck i'm on about.."

"oh.. well uhm.. was i doing it right?"

"doing what right?"

"the way i was uhm.. sucking on the popsicle, was i doing it right?"

he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing as he tilted his head slightly.

"you never sucked a dick before?" you shook your head.

"you ever kissed anyone?" this time you nodded.

"well that's one thing i don't have to teach you.."

and you couldn't say no to that. so now you were on your knees in front of him as he sat on the edge of your bed. his hand fisted in your hair as you tried to take him all in your mouth. he was big but it felt so good. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and he groaned out, the noises he was making were absolutely obscene.

he pulled you off him, his hand cupping your chin as you placed your hands on his knees. he tilted his head again, ever so slightly, almost like he was figuring you out, or figuring out what to do next. you just whimpered at the words that left his mouth next.

"y'wanna know something.. the day you came over with those cookies.. i thought you were so cute. in that pretty little flowery sundress.. wanted to just bend you over the kitchen counter, fill you up and watch you squirm.. you'd make a good lil' slut, don't you think? all for me?"

"mmhm.."

he didn't technically become your boyfriend, partly because you think your parents would kill you if they found out. but you did go over to his place occasionally, waiting until he was alone so you could be as loud as he wanted you to be. the first time he had sex with you, he was gentle but you begged him for more.

"you used to be so innocent, baby.. what happened, hm? this dick got you all messed up, huh.."

"mmf.. please.. need more.. please.."

you were on your stomach, spread out in front of him on your bed, your hips lifted up so he can fuck into you, grinding against you whenever he filled you up all the way. all you wanted was a boyfriend, a cute boyfriend to send you flowers, or kiss you softly whenever he had to leave—and instead you got the man across the street to dick you down whenever your parents went to the grocery store. then you became hooked, touching yourself at night and thinking of him, thinking of the next night you'd get to see him and he could give you your fix. he was like a drug, he made you feel so good and you were addicted.

weeks ago you wouldn't even think about touching yourself over anyone, and now you're whimpering, making yourself come while you whine out his name, wishing he was here beside you to fill you up. he had you wrapped around his finger and you knew whenever he called, you'd come running, ready to drop to your knees or spread yourself out for him. and he'd call you his "good girl", tell you you were doing so good, how pretty you looked all wet for him, and only him.

but still, at times you'd play the innocent card, knowing it riled him up. the sun was hitting the front of your house just right, so you dragged the sun lounger from your garage and sat it in your front garden. laying down, you made sure peter was home, noticing him walk through his house. it wasn't long before he caught sight of you and came over.

"gettin' a tan?"

"mmhm.. ur welcome to join me if you want.."

and that he did, until the sun moved and you both went round the back of your house. he moved his lounger right next to yours and ran his hand over your leg.

"peter.."

"hm?"

you didn't say anything else, just let him slide his hand under your bikini bottom, two fingers slipping through your folds before he plunged them inside you. your hands grabbed at his wrist, squeezing your thighs around his arm, whining and squirming on the lounger. he said nothing as he added another finger and you felt tears in your eyes as you came, legs shaking. he pulled his fingers out and you clawed at his hand to take them in your mouth, licking them clean.

"always gotta have somethin' in your mouth, baby.."

oh he really had you hooked. you were both absolutely head over heels obsessed with each other. and you wouldn't want it any other way when he always makes you feel this good.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Instinct 

Beast World!AU- If you know nothing about Beast World, that is okay! This is essentially Werewolf!Jason Todd. I don't think I've written something like this before, so if it's bad, it was still fun to try and write. Honestly, this is kinda practice for when October rolls around because I have ideas. ~1.3k words

Jason Todd knows he should be in this cage. He's not quite himself, claws where there should be fingers and fangs where there used to be teeth. He's faster, stronger, larger. His senses are sharper. His body tends to react on instinct before he really knows what he's doing. 

So, yes, being behind six inches of polycarbonate ballistic glass in the Batcave is probably a good idea. 

If he could still speak, he'd tell you how good it is to see you everyday. Something about seeing you work around the Batcave on a cure, seeing you sit outside his cage and talk to him, is calming. He misses being able to answer you, misses being able to touch you, but it's still nice to hear your voice. 

It keeps him from pacing along the walls or scratching at what's left of the bedding. 

He's watching you now, head resting on his hands- uh, paws, now- as you push food for him through the small opening in his cell. 

He is hungry. He always seems to be hungry. There's an itch under his skin for something more, to be back in the streets of Gotham with blood on his muzzle. You always seem to make that feeling go away. He tracks you as you smile at him and turn to leave. He just needs to have you in his vision. There's no explanation other than this situation is better when you're here, when you're focused on him. 

He knows your smell, your scent, even through the glass separating him from the outside world, he knows. Jason has trouble, sometimes, remembering how he knows you. Whatever's made him sick, made him this thing, messes with his thoughts. But even his base instincts know you're special, something to be kept close. 

It doesn't really matter what you are to each other, he knows enough. How could he ever forget the feeling of you in his arms? Every memory of you is ingrained in every cell of his body; he just knows. Knows how you look when you laugh, how your tears feel against the pads of his thumbs. 

So even if the details come and go, you're a constant. The only reason he's even putting up with this cage. 

His ears perk up when Dick comes into view. He lets out a huff at the wave Dick gives him, and turns his focus back to you.

Jason doesn't really listen to what you're talking about, processing words isn't as easy as it used to be, but he lifts his head when Dick leads you down to the training mats.

The fur on the back of his neck raises when you start throwing punches at each other. 'Training. It's just training,' he tells himself. But all rational thought flies out the window when you hit the ground. He slams into the glass. Slams into it again as it cracks. Rams his body into the glass a third time as it finally breaks and splinters around him. 

You're worried about Jason. Everyone is. Gotham is in chaos, filled with humans turned animals from a disease no one’s figured out how to cure yet. It makes your stomach twist, to see him locked in a cage, unable to voice what he wants or how he's feeling. You spend more time than not in the Batcave now, talking to him, playing music while you work on trying to cure him.

You know Jason's still in there. You can tell in the way he tilts his head at you, barks out laughs at the stories you tell. But you also know he's not all there. 

Sometimes his eyes seem to glow, his gaze will change into something feral as he stalks back and forth. He growls when people get too close to the glass, digs his claws into the fabric littered throughout his cage. 

"You need a break," You look up as Dick's voice cuts into your thoughts.

"I know, but I'm close to something. I can feel it," You tell him, eyes darting to the computer running your latest analysis. 

Dick glances over at the screen, "Looks like you still have some time on that. Why not spar with me? Get some energy out?"

You think on it, then nod, "Yeah, sure."

Dick grins like it's the best thing he heard all day as he leads you down to the training area, "Better not go easy on me." 

You laugh, putting your hands up in a practiced fighting stance, "As long as you don't go easy on me."

Sparring with Dick does actually turn out to be the break you needed. It's almost relaxing to let yourself go on autopilot, dodging his punches and throwing your own in return. 

It happens before you realize, that he's hooked his ankle behind your knee. You hit the mat and exhale sharply, making a face at Dick as he grins down at you. He opens his mouth, probably to throw out some remark about having your head in the game, when the sound of glass shattering makes you whip your head towards Jason's cage. 

Two-hundred plus pounds of fur and sharpened canines are charging at you.

"Shit," Dick says your name, steps in front of you, but it doesn't do any good when Jason snarls and shoves him to the side. 

You barely have time to get a noise out before he's barreled into you, crushing you to his chest and turning to face Dick with a growl.

You sputter out a mouth full of fur, squirming to try and move back. Jason only crouches lower to the ground and holds you tighter. 

"Jason, hey, they're not hurt, okay? We were just sparring. No one's in danger." You hear Dick trying to soothe Jason, but you're more distracted by the rumbling of his chest against your face. 

You push lightly at him, "Jason, it's okay."

He falls quiet. 

Jason knows you're not hurt. Knows Dick wouldn't actually put you in danger. But that didn't stop him from breaking out of his cell. (He really could have done that at any time, but how else would he see you?) 

He carefully lets go of you, but keeps his body angled between you and Dick. It's not his fault his brain is screaming that you're in danger. That he should killkillkill anything that threatens you. You're not fragile by any means, but you're so precious. He should be protecting you, not separated from your side by glass. 

"Jason," your voice interrupts his thoughts, and he angles his head to look at you. You're sitting down and patting your lap. He tilts his head. "Come here, it's okay."

You sound relaxed, even if your heart rate is elevated, and he finds himself wanting to listen. He drops to the ground, keeping Dick in his line of sight as he rests his head against your legs. 

He notes your hesitation before you start petting his head and scratching his ears. He leans happily into your touch. This is what he was missing. He pushes his head against your stomach, wanting you to keep going. Jason doesn't miss the look you give Dick, or the helpless shrug he offers back. 

It's not like anyone can stop him from being where he wants. He won't let anyone get close enough to sedate him. And he certainly won't go back in a cage now he knows how nice your hand is against his fur. 

No, he'll stay by your side until whatever cure you're working on is done. It'll be nice, he thinks as he cuddles into your side, for both of you. He'll be able to keep you warm, keep you safe. And if there isn't a cure? You'll never have to worry about any of the infected. He won't let anyone near you. 

[dovahkiin796]

Poppy Playtime: CH 3 (What-if)

John watches in horror as dozens upon dozens of the Mini–Smiling Critters he has been dealing with ever since he found himself in the Playhouse. Crawl out of the walls and toward the hanging DogDay. The giant version of the toy screams out in panic when seeing the little monsters.

"Leave me! Please! Save yourself!" Every fiber of John's being agreed with what the humanoid dog said. But John couldn't get his legs to move.

He was too caught up in the horrific sight to even twitch a finger. But eventually his brain screamed at him to go, and John responded.

Though instead of running away to get to safety. John fired a few flares at the Mini-Smiling Critters. Like the other times they reared back in fright at the bright fireball.

However, this time, not all of them were backing away. Some continued to crawl toward DogDay. Their feral nature being more powerful than their fear. So, with only one option left. John starts bashing away the plush toys with his GrabPack arms.

"What are you doing?!" Asked a confused DogDay. "I told you to leave me!" John ignored him and continued his assault. One of the Smiling Critters manages to get onto DogDay's head, and it seemed it was about to crawl into his head by his large, black eyes,

John stopped this from happening by actually using his own hand to grab it and then punch it in the face with his other hand by turning it into a fist. John heard a sickening crack, but he pressed on and threw the dead thing away.

In quick speed John was able to free the large dog from his straps and have his arms wrap around his neck for support. "You're a fool for doing this. You're going to get yourself killed."

John could only grin. If that was the case, then at least he died trying to save someone. The Mini-Smiling Critters, angry that their food supply was now free. All snarled in anger.

John didn't bother to wait and see what they'll do and ran back the way he came. But when trying to run through the cell doors, wooden planks that were put in place to cover a large hole in the floor. Collapsed by the combined wait of John and DogDay's.

They fell to a floor beneath the holding cells. Clearing his dazed head from the sudden fall. John sees an open tunnel. Up above he can hear the little Critters coming to where he and DogDay fell.

Wasting no time, he crouch runs down the tube till coming to another tunnel and taking it. It was series of running, taking sharps turns, running up ramps, waiting for shutter doors to open up, and taking a slide down. But eventually John spots their salvation. An elevator that was behind a gap that led to a bottomless pit.

Switching to the purple hand and with what little adrenaline he had left in him. John sprints toward the gap, "Hang on! This won't be an easy landing!" Just as his foot touches the purple hand pad. John fires the hand on it and both he and DogDay launch high in the air.

Fortunately for them they were able to make it. Though John ended up not sticking the landing. He lost his footing and fell to the ground. The giant Smiling Critter rolled off of him, only being stopped by the elevator railing.

Without his choice John's body happened to land on his side where his front would be facing the open doorway he just came through. He can see the horde coming for him and DogDay. He wasn't actually sure if they would make the jump or not. He prayed that they didn't. But he wouldn't be able to know as the shutter suddenly closed before any of them could even make the attempt.

From behind the door, he could hear the little beasts roar and snarl in absolute fury. Crashing their little bodies against the metal in hopes of breaking through it.

Though the door wasn't budging in the slightest. Letting out a much-needed sigh of relief. John turns to DogDay to see if he's alright. "Are you ok?" John asked. The Smiling Critter coughs a little before asking why he saved him. John was silent for a few seconds till saying. "Because this place already has enough death occur in it. It needs at least one life that was saved in these walls."

DogDay took a second to digest what he heard. He lets out a ragged snort. "You really are an Angel. Something this place really needs."

John snorts too. "By the way. The name is John." DogDay said the name sounded too generic and will continue to call him Angel. Rolling his eyes. John picks up DogDay and steps onto the elevator and pushes the button. The contraption heading upward that led them to another slide. With no other option they took it, and it actually took them outside the Playhouse.

"It's been so long since I've been outside. I honestly can't believe that I'm truly free." Said DogDay. "Well believe it, you'll no longer be someone's dinner."

After a phone call from Ollie and telling him what to do next. John first takes DogDay to the elevator where Kissy and Poppy were last seen using.

When reaching it John sees the elevator was still raised up. He calls out for either Poppy or Kissy to lower the elevator so DogDay can be safe with them.

For several long seconds he didn't get a reply back. He was worried that maybe they were no longer up there. But his worries were put to rest when he heard and saw the elevator descending.

The elevator finally reached the bottom and John rested DogDay against the railing. "I don't know about this. Can you trust them?" The Smiling Critter asked. A hint of worry in his voice.

Despite what DogDay said to him back at the Playplace about he and Poppy being the only ones to stop the Prototype. John doesn't blame him for it. For years he was at the mercy of toys who he thought were his friends. And after all those years, he's finally free, only be at the mercy to a different set of toys. John reassures him that that they'll keep him safe while he deals with CatNap.

Pressing the button so the elevator can go back up. DogDay says, "Please don't die, Angel. I don't want to lose any more friends in this place."

Promising he won't. John turns around and heads for the counselor's office to bring more power to the generator.

[brittle-doughie]

Dungeon Clearout

“I don’t get why you let Crowned Cupcake have reign over the dungeons. She keeps imprisoning innocent Cookies over things so trivial as wishing you a good morning.”

“You know Crowned, she doesn’t like when anybody is showing any sort of affection towards me, which leads to our situation here. We’ve got to clear out the dungeons of the innocents while keeping in the actual troublemakers…”

“I’ve got the list from Dumpling Cookie, it can help us with that. The last thing I want is any of the actual criminals to escape.”

“Then let’s just hope they weren’t thrown in with them…”

The two of you surveyed the cells, using the list provided with detailed information that helped you to keep the guilty locked up. One by one, you let the innocent free….

“Thank you, your Majesty! I-I didn’t know what I did wrong! I only wished you a wonderful day and then the princess later sent me to the dungeon!”

“No worries, but hey, don’t let Crowned Cupcake stop you from being cordial with me. I’ll handle her if she stops by for you the next time.”

———————————————————————

“I didn’t think I did anything criminal actually. Nothing wrong with calling you a treat, Your Majesty~”

“Yeah….try to keep that kind of talk under wraps when Crowned Cupcake is roaming about.”

…and kept the guilty locked up.

———————————————————————

“T-thank you, your Majesty…I was scared being here…”

“Nice try, Tutti Frutti Cookie. Wanted for prolonged vandalism to the Kingdom.”

Tutti Frutti Cookie grumbled as he dropped the scared and tearful front.

“Your Kingdom is dull and gray! Where’s the colors?! The life?! Maybe if you had more colors to this dreary dungeon, I wouldn’t have needed to spread my colors all over the place!”

“And look where it got you, unauthorized decoration is only going to get you into trouble! Besides, we have Gumball Cookie for that…”

———————————————————————

“Stay back, Salsa Cookie. She’s dangerous…”

“I know, Y/N Cookie. One sting from her is not good…”

The two of you stay back from one cell, where a jellyfish-like cookie was seen floating in the middle of.

“Brownie Box Jellyfish Cookie…”

“Wanted for hospitalizing many of our Cookies that were too close to the waters near our Kingdom. She was a pain to capture, fast in the water and nearly incapacitating the whole team sent after her…”

“Was that really all the Cookies you can throw at me~? I expected a challenge~”

“Big talk from a Cookie behind bars…”

“Such a shame I didn’t get to meet you on the beach personally, Y/N Cookie. I’ve always wondered what your screams would’ve sounded like when I stung into you~”

“Do it and I’ll put you in the ground-“

“Salsa Cookie….”

You see Salsa Cookie clenched her fist, which leads you to place a hand on her chili pepper shoulder pad. She stopped her moment of anger and took a deep breath.

“You’re right, she’s not worth my time…”

———————————————————————

“Oh, I don’t need the list for this Cookie, he deserves every second he has in his cell…”

“Salsa Cookie?”

“I..didn’t want to tell you, but…this Cookie was targeting..you specifically. Jackfruit Cookie.”

The two of you see the silhouette of a Cookie far back in his cell, leaning on the wall while he sat on a stool, a grain of wheat in his mouth.

“Wanted for various crimes such as the injury of personnel, sabotage of our security, and making threats towards you on wanting to “have you”. Believe me, I relished the moment I was able to put this Cookie into custody.”

“She was such a headache. I could see why though, their Majesty looked just as good up close as they are from afar~”

“QUIET!”

Salsa Cookie banged on the steel bars.

“It took everything I had to not just run you through with my blade then and there for what you did…”

“Hehehehe, so what? You win some, you lose a few dozen. Everything is fair game to bag the prize~”

“Give me one good reason to keep you alive, come on.”

“I…can see why you kept this from me. I’m used to fans, but few would go to such lengths like this…”

“Oh, I’m more than just a fan, Y/N Cookie. Such righteousness, a sense of doing what’s right, keeping Cookies with nowhere to go under your care. They say opposites attract, you know? I was looking forward to how I’d completely ruin you~”

Salsa Cookie inhaled sharply as she got ready to unsheathe her blade, but you stopped her fast.

“Let’s go…I get it.”

Salsa exhaled and stops herself, before heading off with you. A glance over her shoulder could see Jackfruit looking at her smugly at the corner of his cell.

“….Not yet….but when the time comes, I look forward to wiping that look off your face…”

[sp00kymulderr]

stretch

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader x yoga instructor!Joel Miller

Warnings/Tags: M for mentions of sex. AU in which Joel is very flexible. Dieter is a menace. Daydreaming about a threesome. Reader is able bodied/takes part in a yoga class. No use of pronouns for reader but they are called babe & baby.

Words: 890 words

Summary: Dieter introduces you to his yoga instructor.

A/N: for my love @ravensmadreads. idk where this came from. You mentioned something about trainer!joel and being told to bend over and my mind went to yoga so??? Consider this a little offshoot of gym crush Joel. An au of the au.

Dieter had been insistent on your coming to his yoga class today.

He was practically dragging you along through the luxury gym floor to the studio - an intimate set up with space for just the two of you and the instructor. Perks of being an actor, Dieter didn't have to work out with strangers.

He'd never been that into yoga before he'd gone off to film Cliff Beasts 6. But he'd come back particularly enthusiastic about it. Something about a mirror. Someone called Kate. You weren't sure you particularly needed to know the rest and frankly, the sex had been even better since he'd gotten more flexible and active so who were you to say anything.

He's happy, giving you an excited nudge as you both sit down on your fancy mats, sitting cross legged as you wait for the instructor to show up.

"You're gonna love this, babe" He mutters, giving you the kind of smile that is all mischief.

"Dee, I love your enthusiasm but I really don't think-"

You stop, words scrambling just like your brain cells as another man joins you two in the room. He pads quietly over to the mat in front of you both and greets the two of you. Where Dieter's energy is very 'bouncing off the walls', this man seems calm and gentle, in a way.

It doesn't hurt that he's gorgeous too. Beautiful brown eyes that seem to tell a thousand stories at once, greying brown hair, scruffy grey-speckled facial hair that accentuates his handsome features. He's…gorgeous isn't even really the right word. Breathtaking feels more like it.

Well, you understand why Dieter has been particularly keen about this class.

He introduces himself as Joel before sitting down on his mat facing the two of you and mirroring your crossed-leg stance.

Your mouth feels dry. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're affected by the man. He's started talking but you're zoned out, hopefully subtly scanning eyes over him; the way his t-shirt is just a little too tight around the biceps, the tiny sliver of skin when it rides up as he raises his arms.

Dieter, thoroughly amused, nudges you back to reality. For a moment you stare from him back to Joel and then, "Oh right" you awkwardly say, raising your arms up with a deep breath.

If you thought Dieter was flexible now, he was nothing compared to Joel. He made every flow look easy, and showed his strength with a quiet grace that you were finding very difficult to not continue to be struck dumb by. Your mind was definitely going to places it shouldn't…specifically to Joel in bed with you and Dieter…how that might go. Hearing him tell you to bend for a different reason might drive you completely overboard.

As the class continues you're wondering what positions he could put you in, lost in thought right as his hands gently meet your hips to help you into a pose you might not be struggling with if your mind wasn't in the gutter. The touch of his hand makes your breath hitch. And not subtly.

"You okay?" Joel asks, his voice low and quiet, fingers giving you a little reassuring tap on the hip. You nod back, waiting for the floor to open up and take you away. Dieter gives you a knowing look and you glare back at him, now fully aware why he'd so badly wanted you to join the class.

It's either a blessing or a curse that you have the same taste in men.

It's a relief when the class ends, when the 45 minutes are up and you can hopefully get out of the small studio and clear your head of dirty thoughts about a man just doing his job.

You look over to Joel as he's clearing away mats, give him a little smile and say your thanks and pray that you aren't somehow giving away the things you'd been thinking about him for the whole time. To your surprise he gives you a smile and a wink as you're on your way out.

"Give me a couple minutes, baby" Dieter says mysteriously. Maybe you should be worried about that particular glint in his eyes as he approaches Joel when you exit the studio.

You're checking your phone when Dieter comes back out, taking your hand and walking with you back to the car.

"So?" He asks, looking at your like an expectant puppy.

"Hm?"

"You liked it? What'd you think of Joel?" He says, his tone telling you he's much more interested in knowing your thoughts on the other man.

"He's very…" You start, not sure quite how to describe the things you felt about him in that short amount of time "bendy?"

"Yeah he is" Dieter sighs happily, pulling you towards him out by the car and turning you around to face him. His arms nake round your middle, holding you close. "You liked him, right?"

You sigh, returning his embrace. He always looked for a reason to be as close to you as possible. You would never complain about that.

"Yeah, I like him"

His smile lights up the entire parking lot. You knew he was up to something.

"Good" He kisses the tip of your nose before pulling back.

"Cause he's coming over tonight to give us a special session"

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)

A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses

His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.

He shouldn’t be here.

Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.

You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.

“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.

He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.

Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.

“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”

“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.

“Wha-What do you mean-?”

“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”

“B-But I love you Ari.”

He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.

All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.

But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.

“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.

Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.

He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.

Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.

“Barry! You can’t run-”

Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.

Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.

“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.

He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”

“So..you’re out?”

“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”

“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”

Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.

After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.

Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.

The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.

"I didn't-"

"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."

-

Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.

His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.

They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.

“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”

The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.

Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.

By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.

“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.

“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.

Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.

“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.

Not that you would mind.

“M’not gonna last baby.”

“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.

His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.

“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”

His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.

Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”

Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.

Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.

And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.

In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.

“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”

[koishiftstoplaces]

im curious how life is like in tartarus? Also heres fanart bc ure so cool 🙏

OH MY GOD?? OMG I M FREAKING OUT THIS IS SO GOOD IM ACC GONNA SOB AND I PU THIS UP ON MY STORY ON TT?? OMG TYSM

Life in Tartarus

Imagine if a asylum and a prison did a collab for a building there are 6 floors each leveled by how dangerous or what crimes depending on the floor is how you'll live/be treated so for example inmates on the

1st floor have slandered prison cells 2 calls every month and visitors once a week. Outdoor time twice a day but like the rest of us they are still chained up and have to be escorted everywhere. These are for things like first degree murder or people like stain yk

2nd floor for people like overhaul they don't get out door time the get "rehab time" which is basically not rehab it's just a phycological evaluation like everyday they are not allowed to talk to eachother because the floor are full of like high-end drug dealers

3rd floor is for people who have 0 control over they're quirk and their quirk is extremely destructive this floor is basically an asylum there cells are white and padded and the only time they are talking to people is there 'doctors'

4th floor (me) for people who threatened the government or safety of the people(people who carry to much government intell that they can't let out) we get out side time once a day and visitors as requested but absolutely no phone calls (they need to physically see the person talking to u just incase you're using code??) Our cells are one bed and the walls are white and there is no like door we are literally encased in a glass wall. We do get communal meal time the others dont

Floor 5 (mass murders)

I don't know anything about them other than the fact that they are allowed 0 contact with any inmates or doctors only heros?? Like all might, hawks or head commission. It's a little strange because I know who's up there but once you're in the 5th level ur like forgotten?? Idk man 😭

6th level (afo)

He has a singel floor I'm not even kidding she's not allowed out no one gose in he's fed through like a nutrition iv💀 only person to visit is allmight😭

I'd say it's not as bad as I thought but also my floor isn't that bad especially with nagant with me but then again I have encountered some lower level inmates that I put in there and I get a Lil scared cause ik they are clawing to eat me up I ONLY GOT THE SHIT BEAT OUTTA ME ONCE AND ITS BEEN 3 MONTHS😛🫶

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Redwood Psychiatric Institute - Part 6

MASTERLIST - PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

CWs: THIS IS A HEAVY ONE PLEASE READ THESE AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION - medical gaslighting, ECT mentions, disordered eating, forced NG tube (nasogastric) intubation, description of forced intubation, IV cannula, forced drugging

"I know you're lying to me." James ground out.

"James, you are ill. You are schizophrenic, and you have trouble telling reality from hallucination. I am your doctor, and I know what is best for you. And right now, what's best is for you to continue your treatments here."

"No, no, none of this is can be real, I'm - my name isn't James, it's- it's-" James stuttered. His hand trembled in the straight jacket he had been restrained in. "Why, why can't I remember?" His unruly dark hair obscured his wide eyes, pupils dilated from the medications.

"You're making things worse for yourself, James. Take a deep breath, and take some more medications. It'll make you feel much better." Doctor Wilson held out a wax paper cup filled with pills.

James shook his head as he backed into the padded wall of his room. "No, get them away from me. AWAY!" He began to scream, and realising he was trapped there rendered his flight instinct inert, he began to rock back and forth on his heels in a desperate attempt to soothe himself.

"James. Calm down. You are being dramatic. You need to take a deep breath."

James began to attempt to tear himself free from the straight jacket to no avail, letting out a frustrated animalistic cry.

"Why-"

"You can take a nice long nap and calm down." Doctor Wilson put the cup down, realising James wasn't going to let himself be soothed easily. The doctor instead pulled a hypodermic syringe out, and the boy began to scream.

"Can I have some assistance?" He called to the orderlies standing outside the cell. They rushed in, effortlessly pinning James to the floor. The orderlies pulled James' pants down to allow the Doctor access to his patient's bottom. Doctor Wilson swiftly jabbed the hypodermic into the muscle, earning him an indignant cry.

"No.. no.." James stuttered, as they pulled away from him. He attempted to pull himself to his feet, but tripped over himself, the drug already leaving him unsteady and out of it.

"Sh, my boy." Doctor Wilson soothed, helping his patient onto the bed. "You can rest now."

James eyelids, with his pupils blown wide, slowly drifted shut as he slumped over on the bed.

----

When James awoke, he decided to make a plan. He didn't trust Doctor Wilson anymore. There were gaps in his memory, and things that just didn't make sense.

And he was sure that his name wasn't really James - but what was it then?

He started by figuring out how to stop his meds. The nurses would check that he had taken them. He started crushing one or two in the side of his jaw, and swallowing the rest. The crushed pills were small enough that they weren't super noticeable, and as long as the nurses didn't see whole pills leftover. Once they left, he'd spit out the crushed tablets. Eliminating one or two of the medications certainly help to clear up his fatigue and drowsiness, but he had other symptoms instead - headaches, fevers, sore eyes. He just had to deal with it. He needed to stop the medication more.

Then, he stopped eating. Just in case the food was also drugged. But he also did it as a protest. He wanted to show Doctor Wilson that he was still in control. It started with a sausage here, some oatmeal there. He would just cut down gradually, and one one would notice until it was too late.

----

"For the last time James, eat up." The orderly, Dan, sighed as the boy pushed his tray away from him.

"'Mm not hungry." James muttered.

"You're being stubborn. You haven't eaten in 4 days. Eat up, or I'll have no choice but to call Doctor Wilson."

James didn't look up. "Don't care."

"Fine. I give up." The orderly picked up the walkie talkie hanging from his white scrubs. "Doctor Wilson, James is refusing to eat again and he's refusing meds."

"Take him to Treatment Room 2. I'll meet you there." The Doctor commanded.

The burly orderly bent down and scooped up James in one arm.

"Dan, please, please don't do this!" James began to sob.

He screamed and kicked, but he was a fairly scrawny young man, and with the lack of food, he was no match for the orderly, who dragged him down the hall with ease.

"Here." The orderly tapped his keycard on the door reader, and pushed the door open, revealing an exam table reminiscent of a dentist's chair. He place James onto the table, and began to strap him using the standard medical restraints, straps at his forehead, wrists, chest, hips, legs and ankles.

"Let me go!!" James screamed, fighting against the restraints with all the strength he had left. "You can't do this!!"

"I'm sorry buddy. It's for your own good." The orderly patted his forehead.

Doctor Wilson stepped into the room and locked eyes with James. Dan immediately backed away, planting himself in the corner of the room.

To the doctor, Jamess looked absolutely feral, his eyes red raw from crying and sleep deprivation, his hair greasy and unkempt, and his frame thin and wiry.

"Oh James, I was so hoping it wouldn't come to this." Doctor Wilson tutted, as he walked up the exam chair. He tilted James' chin, examining the boy's face closer. "You're sneaking off your meds, too." He said - a statement, not a question. "You had been doing so well.. All that progress we've achieved. Gone."

Doctor Wilson sighed, then nodded to the orderly, who began to set up a cart with medical tools and devices. Both men snapped on nitrile gloves and then pulled on medical masks.

"What are you doing?" James asked in a high-pitched tone, clearly frightened.

"Getting you back to health, my boy." Doctor Wilson smiled sadly behind the mask. "Clearly you can't be trusted to do the right thing for yourself."

Dan unpackaged a sterile butterfly needle, which he passed to the Doctor. The orderly wiped down James' elbow with an alcohol wipe, then tied a rubber band above the area. Doctor Wilson brought the needle to James' vein, and the boy whimpered.

"Relax James, you're in good hands." Doctor Wilson hushed, before sliding the needle into the vein.

It smarted, and James winced, looking away as a drop of blood bubbled up from the wound. The Doctor removed the needle and replaced it with tubing, setting up an IV which he hooked to a bag of solution on a stand. James looked to the bag as the solution began to drip through the tubing into his vein.

"What's in there?" He asked weakly.

The Doctor ignored him, and instead began to pull more tubing out from packaging. He held it up and measured it in front of James' face, who squirmed uncomfortably against the strap across his forehead. The Doctor then covered the tip in some kind of gel, held the tube under James' left nostril, and before he could react, the tube was being shoved up his nostril.

Shocked, James began to try to wrest his head away, but the restraints held tight, even as the tube slid further and further up his nose, down the back of his throat, and further, further down. James couldn't help but cough and gag on the tubing, the foreign sensation awfully unwelcome in his system. Even when he thought it couldn't possibly go any further, it did. Finally, finally, it was over. He drew in choked, panicked breaths through his mouth as his body was wracked with silent gasping sobs.

"All done." Doctor Wilson said, his voice void of any care or emotion for his patient. The orderly stepped up and helped the doctor tape the other end of the tube against James' cheek, then attached the tubing to a container sitting on the IV pole, which was filled with an odd liquid. Before long, the liquid began to trickle through the tube and down his nostril. He shuddered at the horrible sensation of the cold liquid sliding down the tube, straight into his stomach.

Doctor Wilson then adjusted the settings on the IV. "Get some sleep. You'll need it."

The Doctor left. Dan stayed for a moment, making sure the Doctor was out of sight before he bent down to whisper in James' ear. "I'm sorry it had to come to that. But you left me with no choice.." He wiped a tear from James' cheek. "Get your rest while you can."

Dan stood, and with a sad sigh, shut the door behind him as he left the room.

James was left in silence. He stared up at the cieling, the odd tear slipping down his cheek, James felt his head becoming cloudy. His limbs felt light, as though they weren't tethered to his body anymore. He was floating. His eyelids however, were heavy as lead. The longer he stared, the harder it was to stay awake, and before long, his consciousness faded and he slipped into darkness.

----

"How are you feeling, James?"Doctor Wilson greeted as he stepped into the room.

James lifted his head slowly to look up. His limbs felt less sluggish than they had several days ago, but the feeding tube had begun to disperse the liquid down his throat and his stomach churned at the uncomfortable sensation. James mumbled incoherently, a single tear slid down his cheek.

Doctor Wilson ran a hand through James's hair, sighing softly. "Oh, James. This is what happens when you don't behave. We are doing what is best for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."

----

James sat in Doctor Wilson's office, his eyes spaced out and staring distantly into the wall.

"James." Everything was fuzzy, blurry. His head pounded. And something was slipping down his chin. Was that-

"Wipe that off his face, please."

An orderly bent into his face, and wiped his chin, then stood up. James didn't even twitch.

"James. Are you with us?"

"Huh?" James finally responded, though there was no physical response.

"You're feeling better, aren't you? No delusions?" Doctor Wilson asked.

Taglist:

"Iambetter..." James slurred.

"Good."

------

Taglist:

@jazatronasmr @onthishamsterwheel @bumpthumpwhump @bloodsweatandpotato @whatiswhump @jancameforthewhump @dream-whump @ratking-whump @inkstainsonmyhands12 @halsteadshaw13 @sparrowsage @sowhumpful @whatwhumpcomments @caspersdelusion @everythingsscary

[deansapplepie]

That’s the least I could do for ma girl (Drabble)

Warnings: period, cramps, pain, just that.

You laid in the small bunk located in your cell, wrapped around a blanket, you hated that time of the month. At one moment you’d feel cold, in the next you’d be burning. Right now taken with cramps you seeked some warmth around your belly to help soothe your pain. With Woodbury joining the prison, the meds were scarce and you couldn’t have the luxury ibuprofen could give you.

That was how Daryl found you, tangled in the blanket on bed. “Hey sunshine, why are ya like this?” He sat on the bed and caressed your arm.

You laid facing the wall and curving on yourself as if you became smaller you’d feel less pain. “I have cramps…” you said, your voice weaker than you intended it to be.

“Do ya want some meds?” He asked and took some hair from your face. He supported himself with one arm and inclined over you so he could look at your face.

“We don’t have meds Dee.” You said the obvious. “And I don’t want you out there risking your life to get some or none.”

“What can I do to make you feel better?” His hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing on your face.

“Nothing, don’t worry. It’s gonna pass.” You said. What you really needed was his arms around you, and he being a human heater warming your lower back and belly.

“If I lay with ya, do I help?” He asked genuinely trying to make you feel better. It’s not like he hadn’t seen you like this before. He had, but you weren’t a thing before, so he did what he could finding meds and trying to casually give them to you without saying it was because he saw you suffering and it broke his heart.

“Ye… no, I… what if I get you dirty with my blood? No, it’s better not.” Your face heated with embarrassment and you avoided his eyes, just like a teenage girl trying to hide her period from the boys. Daryl had already even went on run just to get you some pads when you didn’t have it, and now that you were dating, here you were all embarrassed.

“I don’t care. It’s gonna be the purest thing I’ve been ‘dirty’ with. Have you ever noticed what makes us dirty nowadays?” He said already taking his boots off. “That’s the least I could do for ma girl.” He was already laying with you, your back against his chest getting the so needed warmth.

You guided his hand that was in your stomach down and put it on top of the place where you felt the pain, while he gave you small kisses on your head, cheek, neck and shoulder. Little by little he felt you relaxing against his body as you felt more comfortable and the pain was subsiding. “Better?”

“Much better”

[redd956]

Worldbuilding: Cold Climate

Worldbuilding things to think about for cold climates :D

Not Freezing To Death

One of the main things to think about when worldbuilding a society in cold climates is how exactly people don't freeze to death. Of course we could easily knock out some factors, such as nonhuman creature of ice, but what about everybody else. Even creatures that live in arctic level climates are exposed to the dangers of too much cold.

Extremeness

First things first, decide how extreme the cold is in the climate. Another thing to think about is whether or not it remains this freezing all year long, or if a more stable temperate climate is nearby (usually south).

This will decide how difficult it is to not freeze to death. If we're talking arctic or colder, it will be surprisingly easy to freeze to death, but locals would be wiser.

Architecture

Keeping heat in is going to be the most important function of homes and shelters.

How are homes heated?

How do homes keep heat in?

Think about these two questions of course.

Insulation is a major factor as to why warm housing in cold climates is possible, just look at igloos, which rely entirely on insulation using your own body temperature to heat the indoors.

Next is a heating source. There are so many many different ways to heat a house in such a cold environment. Homes in Siberia use methods such as masonry stoves, central heating, and communal boilers. In many areas the cultural aspect of putting carpets on the walls also aid insulation.

The more facilities and technology a building holds, the more maintenance it needs. Sources like water and electricity are much more difficult to obtain and upkeep. In many arctic circle settlements, they rely on bringing back pure blocks of ice for drinking water. Wells are most often dug, and pipes need to be very closely cared for, due to pipes freezing and exploding.

Snow is heavy too. Roofs need to be sturdy, and allocated so that snow doesn't build too heavily. If temperatures change during warm seasons, most often people will go on their roofs to clear the snow before it melts, because the wet moisture will find its way inside the home and destroy the infrastructure.

Clothing

Warm, windproof, waterproof, and proper fabric. These are four things to consider for clothes that keep people alive. Clothes alone, unless supplemented by magic or technology, cannot guarantee survival in the coldest environments. However a person in winter gear is going to take a lot longer to die of hypothermia compared to someone in casual summer wear.

Fabrics and materials like fleece, wool, leather, and fur are very warm and reliable. Cotton is frowned upon though for not being water or wind proof.

Things like gloves, masks, scarves, hats, boots, and padded armor will be more common, especially to protect against frostbite on extremities like fingers, toes, ears, and nose.

Biology

I'll go further detail into this later down in the post, but biology plays a major role. Many different creatures have different adaptations to help them survive the cold. Humans do too, a good thing to think about for messing around with humanoid populations in cold environments.

People on average tend to have larger builds, and sometimes shorter limbs in colder climates. Larger bodies mean more cells, which means more heat. Limbs help dissipate and disperse heat, so when they're shorter they hold more warmth in. Also generally being more fat or chubby keeps one warmer compared to someone with lower fat and muscle distribution.

It's also important to realize that as humans we adapt through more than just physical ways, we adapt through innovation and culture as well. Take for instance the snow-blindness goggles or ski goggles.

Food Sources

Populations are often aligned towards the coast in cold environments, due to the easiest food source, fish. Fishing is not only much easier for populations, but less dangerous than searching for potentially sparse wildlife in the middle of the arctic.

Hunting is still an option, and so is farming in a way, but it will not be as big of a provider for diets as fishing.

Agricultural animals, such as cows, chickens, etc, need heated shelter and food as well. Low temperature crops are essential too. Of course we all know about potatoes, but also other root vegetables. Leafy green vegetables are also good at surviving.

Everything else would require some form of advanced greenhouse, and of course the labor to take care of everything.

Animal-Life Things

Alright, back to biology. Animals!

Arctic animals often rely on winter coats and/or blubber. Blubber isn't always seen as the outer layer of an aquatic animal like seals, but can also be a layer of skin on a furred animal. Fur is often multilayered too, and of course adapted to seasonal camouflage. Their bodies are their insulators. For feathered creatures we see fluffed up feathers.

Huddling together, digging icy dens for insulation, and sometimes relying on local hot springs are other tactics seen.

Some creatures, on the more cold-blooded side, have a natural antifreeze in their blood.

Of course one of the most important factor is fat reserves. Bulking up in preparation for winter is a must, especially if an animal is planning on hibernating.

Many arctic creatures have dark or black skin, as it helps them absorb as much light as possible as the sunlight is out. As for why humans don't replicate this trend is not fully known. There are many theories, but most of it simply boils down to the magic of diversity.

Travel

Last, but not least, is travel. Traveling around in a snowy environment isn't as easy as it seems. Frequent breaks are needed to maintain one's heat if traveling out in the open, and vehicles need to be specially constructed to overcome the rough terrain.

Water transport is often the main group of transport utilized in such cold environments. Railways are common too. Engineering techniques and lots of resources plus manpower keep things like railways functioning in arctic climates.

Things like sleds, and sleighs, often animal-pulled are seen culturally and historically. This is because other animals simply have an easier time clambering over snow, compared to humans.

[hughiecampbelle]

Little Death (Frenchie Oneshot)

Character/s: Frenchie, Butcher, Hughie, M.M.

Word Count: 1,396

Requested: hello!! I love your work!! I would love to request frenchie and the following prompts! “Gauze” “caution” “I don’t owe you anything” - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! I'm not the happiest with it. I've rewritten it three times, but I think it's just one of those fics where I'll never truly be satisfied unfortunately. Regardless, I love the idea! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

I don’t owe you anything, you spat, blood dribbling down your chin. Timidly, he slides a pad of gauze across the sink, leaving it between you. The first aid kit sat open on his lap, exposed. You reach out only when he’s let go, unwrapping it. Your head pounds. The wound on your forehead wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. For that, you were grateful. It pulsed, wet and red and throbbing. You pulled your sleeve over your hand, pressing into it. He reaches out to help, but you flinch. He forgets. That’s dangerous. I don’t owe any of you anything, you clarify a little louder. You’re sure they’re all listening. The walls are thin and that group, who hadn’t stopped arguing since they showed up, were all too quiet. The angry one with bloodshot eyes rammed the butt of his gun into your head. If only it’d been his bare fist. Not after, with a gloved hand, had he punched you upwards, your jaw bruising as you spoke. You grabbed the wrist of his coat. This one, meek and empathetic, ordered him to stop. The both of you to stop. They were guests in your home, they were supposed to act like it. He wasn’t going to force you to do anything you didn’t want to. You’d had enough of that for one lifetime. I know you don’t. His tone is gentle. Understanding. You stood, careful, cautious in the tiny bathroom, taping the bandages over the opening. What did they see when they looked at you?

You rinsed your mouth, watching the water circle the drain, pink and gooey. His knee touches you, the fabric worn thin, and you can’t help but turn rigid, still, until you can back away into the corner. Until you can make sure he is nowhere near you. He raises his hands, surrendering. I did not mean- he stops, unable to finish the sentence. I know, you say too quickly. You knew his type, his kind. Always testing the limits. Pushing the boundaries. Believing themselves different from the rest. They could try all they wanted, they could think all they wanted, they all ended up in the same shallow graves.

You were famous in all the wrong places. Death for hire. There were no signs or symptoms. There was no real reason for their sudden deaths. It was instant. It was painless. It was effective. No marks or bruises, no bullet holes or brains bashed in. No weapons necessary. It's been a long time since you took a job. There were plenty of opportunities, plenty of people looking, you just didn't want to be found. Fell off the grid. No family, no friends. It was easier than you'd like to admit. It was effortless. One day you were there, the next no one had heard from you. You didn't take calls or emails. You didn't have a phone. Customers would drop off letters, notes, envelopes of cash with names and descriptions. You'd do what you needed to. They always paid well. There was a sick sort of satisfaction. Your part was easy. Sometimes you put on a show. Got dressed up. Slid beside them at the bar. Took them to bed. They adored you. Other times, it was on the subway, the bus, in the middle of the crosswalk. Your job was done. The world went on spinning. That's just how it goes.

Little Death. La Petite Mort. That’s what everyone called you. I assume you know what I can do. He nods. They all did. It was Frenchie who'd seen you first. You weren't angry or fighting, you weren't cagey. You were very still, sitting in the middle of your cell, knees to chest. There was something underneath that. Perhaps it was defeat or shame. In the moment, it caught him off guard. Now he understands it's just who you are. Who you've become. Who were you before? Cindy opened the doors and everyone fled. You were cautious though, pulling your sleeves over your hands, your arms, keeping yourself small enough to slip by without getting caught, without hurting anyone. He wanted to follow, but it was too late. He never forgot about you. Afterwards, he asked M.M. and Hughie to dig up every file from the Sage Grove Center. You'd be useful, he just wasn't sure how important you'd turn out to be.

So why aren't you afraid? You sat at the edge of the tub, him on the toilet, the two of you staring at one another. He smiles and the act strikes you across the face. You are not so scary. He shrugs. Nine years ago, almost ten, they injected you with Compound V. You were a teenager, placed in their care by people who loved you. There were no physical changes. No outward deformities or abilities. They assumed it was mental, but you couldn't read thoughts or move things with your mind. Called you a dud. A failure. If that was true, wouldn't that mean you could leave? You begged one of the nurses, please. The words scratched your throat, tore their way from your mouth like barbed wire. Please, I won't say anything. I won't tell anyone. And then you grabbed them by the wrist, making them drop your dinner tray. They dropped, too. A pile of lead wrapped in skin. You'd never forget that sound. Someone heard and they followed. They went to pull you, drag you from the cell, punish you, but they found the same fate. There was a pile of bodies before anyone realized it wasn't on purpose. Lamplighter watched the security cameras. You never fought any of them. They found no weapons on your person after a strip search. All they did was touch you.

Ten years. Ten years of bodies. Ten years of testing. They'd learn. You'd learned too. It only worked skin to skin. Clothing, fabric, gloves, all of it could be a lifesaver. Any part of you. All parts of you. They still found ways to hurt you. Some favored cattle prods. Others went the old fashioned way, pointing a gun between your eyes until you took down an entire room of other patients. You chose to live and for that you would always be considered selfish. Who do you want me to kill? You ask, your eyes cast down at the blood drying on your shirt. No one ever wanted your company. No one ever wanted to get to know you. It was what you could do that was of interest. It is not that simple, Petite Mort. You roll your eyes. It is that simple. You move abruptly. Sitting to standing, learning into him, your faces inches from one another. His eyes widened despite himself. He is scared.

They all are.

You can say no, he says again. You're overcome by nausea, dizziness. Maybe you had a concussion. Maybe it was what he'd said, the name he whispered. Get out. You look him in the eyes and repeat yourself, but he doesn't move. Get out! You pull at his jacket, pushing him through the doorway. His friends all freeze. Get out! Leave now! You know your neighbors will complain about the screaming, but you don't care. You're furious. Frenchie tries to calm you down, but you're hysterical. This is what they wanted. This is why Vought let you live so long. Because they wanted you to be their weapon. You could kill anyone. Everyone. You were collateral. An emergency fund. An option when they were all out of options. You weren't going to be used anymore. You weren't going to be a pawn in Voughts game. Not anymore. You got out. You were free. You couldn't go back there, you couldn't put yourself in danger like that again. They would recognize you. You would never see the light of day again. They'd let you rot in a cell like all those years. Before you slam the door in their faces, Frenchie tries one last time. S'il te plaît. We would never let anything happen to you. You've become cold, stone-like, the same shell of a human being he recognized from that first day, that first moment. There is not getting through to you. Not now, at least. The conversation was over. He must let it die.

You were not going to kill Homelander.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 3 “Make It Stop.” | No. 30 Bridal Carry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (Pre-relationship)

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Gunshot wound, mentions of blood

“It… hurts.”

“I gotcha, Y/N. Ya jus’ hang on fer me, girl, y’hear?” Daryl was running as fast as he humanly could with you cradled against his chest in a bridal carry, desperate to get back to the prison. You needed Hershel and you needed him now. 

He should have never taken you out with him. You were inexperienced, clumsy. He had really just wanted to spend some time with you away from the prying eyes of your home. Those knowing smiles and giddy whispers were enough to set his nerves on edge. 

He couldn’t have known someone else would be hunting the same area. He couldn’t have known they would be tracking the same buck. He couldn’t have known that they would lay claim even though it was his bolt that took down the animal. And he definitely couldn’t have known the man would aim his gun at an innocent woman and pull the trigger before Daryl could even blink. The man went down fast with a bolt to the brain but the damage was done. 

“Make it stop. Please, Daryl.”

His heart felt as if it were being crushed in a vice, your strained pleas tearing away at him like a walker on flesh. “Almos’ there. Doc’ll fix ya righ’ up.” He could feel the warm, sticky blood spreading onto his own shirt and knew he was running out of time. His legs were burning, threatening to give out. He could barely manage a full breath. But he couldn’t stop. 

When the gates of the prison came into view, he nearly sobbed with relief. It was short lived. “Y’see? We made it.” You didn’t respond. “Y/N?” Your eyes were closed, face pale. “Fuck!” He was stumbling with exhaustion as he rushed past the few walkers shuffling around in the grass. “Open the gate!” He didn’t have to say it twice. 

Daryl made sure to stay close enough to the make-shift infirmary to be called if needed but far enough away so he couldn’t hear the urgent demands of the veterinarian as he tried to save your life. The archer sat on the floor, face in his hands, kicking himself for ever putting you in this position. He had been selfish and you were paying the price. 

“Daryl.”

The bowman quickly met Carol’s exhausted gaze. The weariness made it hard to read whether she was bringing good news or coming to tell him you were gone. 

“She… is she…?”

“She’s alive.”

Daryl let himself fall back against the wall. He felt a familiar sting behind his eyes and did his best to push it back, but the shine of tears was already evident. 

“Hershel says any longer and…. Anyway, she’s going to be fine.”

The archer nodded, not trusting his voice. Carol, ever vigilant, noticed his plight and slid down the wall next to him. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Pfft.” He responded too quickly. There was one of those knowing smiles he couldn’t stand. “She ain’t the wors’ person ta be ‘round.” The silver haired woman hummed and nodded. 

“She was thrilled you asked her to go with you.” She offered, twisting the bloody cloth in her hands. Daryl looked over at her but quickly looked away when she tried to meet his eyes. “She’s sweet on you. Has been for a while.”

“Stop.” 

“She really is, and what’s so terrible about that?”

Daryl’s face burned hot. “She can do a lot better than me.”

Carol reached out to brush his longer hair away from his face. He never flinched from her touch anymore. Hers or yours. “I don’t think so.” And with that, she stood and padded across the concrete to disappear back into the cell where you currently lay resting. 

Daryl let his friend’s words tumble around in his head, equal parts hope and fear spreading throughout. There was no way a classy little thing like you could ever be interested in a grumpy old redneck. But…maybe you had said something. Carol seemed so sure of it. 

With a shaky breath and trembling hands, the archer climbed to his feet and forced himself forward. He would sit with you until you awoke. And when you were stable enough, he would talk to you. Maybe. No, he would. He would. 

[honey-worm]

A fanfiction I wrote about 10 years ago. You can find it on Wattpad here https://www.wattpad.com/story/51392437-all-my-love 🫶🏻 More chapters will be published soon! **Please be aware that this story is RATED-R. Viewer discretion advised. It is full of ups and downs. A rollercoaster full of vulgar language, alcohol, sex, passion, kindness, confusion, pain, anger...but most importantly, love. I would like to warn you that it is a toxic relationship where love overpowers all. I do not advise that you romanticize toxic relationships in real life. This is strictly for entertainment purposes only. It has been a way to escape from the real world for me and to use my creativity.**

Rebecca Bowman is the soft and sweet type of girl. Her world is turned upside down as she finds herself in a sticky situation with one of her best friends, Harry Styles. She never would have thought she'd end up being friends with benefits with someone. That's not how she values love… Only something in her changed as she decided it was time to move out and live with her best friend, Stella Paxton. Over the next year, she found herself mesmerized by Harry and his unusual, mysterious ways. He's charming but arrogant. Sweet but angry. Cold but hot… All the traits her mother always warned her about as she was growing up. "Stay clear of the misunderstood and unemotionally available men, they'll only cause you pain." Angie would say. Rebecca knew she was in deep for a rude awakening once she made up that irresponsible label with one of her best friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Viewer Discretion Advised For Mature Audiences Only 18+

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k Chapter Includes: Oral Sex

CHAPTER 1 I wake up to my cell phone ringing and vibrating out of control somewhere in my bed. I keep my eyes closed for as long as I can as I search for my phone that seems to be lost between the sheets and blankets which only frustrates me. I groan and sit up, leaning over to turn on the light that sits on my night stand next to the bed. It feels more like a cloud right now. I shuffle the blankets once again and my phone appears, face down, still going off. I grab a hold of it, flipping it around to see that Harry's name is across the screen. I roll my eyes and click the green circle before bringing it up to my ear while I fall back into my pillow.

"Open the door." He blurts right when he notices I answer without getting a word out.

"What?" I say, scrunching my eyebrows together in confusion. I wait for an answer from him but hear nothing so I take the phone away and sure enough it's my lock screen. 

I rip my blankets off and step out of my cozy bed, looking over at the alarm clock that tells me it's two-fifty in the morning. I roll my eyes at the fact that Harry likes to pop in at any time during the night. I pad my way across the quiet apartment and get on my tip toes to see through the peephole. I quietly open up the door when I see Harry standing there and he smiles at me, snaking his way in. 

"What are you doing here?" I whisper, looking towards my friend's bedroom. I shut the front door, locking it and out of nowhere I'm pushed up against the wall. Harry grabs ahold of my arms, putting my hands above my head and stares at me with hooded eyes. His famous smirk appears. 

My eyes glance over at my friend's shut door once more before looking back at Harry. He brings his lips to mine the same time he lets my arms free. His arms snake around the bottom of my back, lifting me up where my body naturally knows to wrap my legs around his torso. He begins walking us to my room as my hands run through his lion's mane. He takes a breather, looking at me with a sloppy smile.

"I missed you tonight." Harry's voice is husky already and the sound of it is making me melt in his arms. "The party was boring, I had no one to make fun of." He adds in a whisper and I roll my eyes at him, playfully. 

"You need to stop coming in the middle of the night." I try to hide a smile but fail as he playfully rolls his eyes just like I did. We finally make it to my room and he shuts the door with his foot before dropping me on the bed. 

"Really? Are you sure? Because I know you love how exciting it is to sneak around." Harry's hovering over me and I can already feel my heart beat increasing rapidly. His hair is falling next to his face, making me take my hands and push it back before cupping his face and pulling him towards me. Our lips connect a couple times before he goes back to looking down at me. "That's what I thought." Harry licks his bottom lip, looking into my eyes with seductive emeralds and I can't help but be excited for what's going to happen. "You missed me, right?" Harry asks, dipping his head in the curve of my neck and planting a soft kiss. I suck in a breath right as I feel his right hand slip under my old high school t-shirt. "Did you?" He asks, planting a kiss underneath my ear where I like it and I hesitate a nod. 

"Yes." It comes out more of a pant when Harry cups my left breast. I bring my hands to his back, gripping the bottom of his shirt while I start to pull it up. Suddenly, he takes his hand away from my breast and grabs mine.

"Nuh uh." Harry shakes his head slowly, putting my hand above my head. "You know what to do." He adds and I release my right hand that still holds onto his shirt. I slowly bring it above my head, connecting it with my other. 

He sits up on his knees, untying the blue bandana that's around his neck. His eyes meet mine and I knew at that moment I had to bring my hands to him. Harry smirks before licking his lips while he concentrates on tying. 

After it's tight around my wrists, he pushes my hands back above my head and moves his knees to reposition himself even lower. 

I take a deep breath through my nose and suck in my stomach as he slowly pushes my shirt up, scrunching it up before placing it in my mouth to keep me quiet. I don't doubt that my eyes are glistening at the sight of him above me, staring down at me with the most seductive body language. 

Harry takes his left hand, dragging his fingertips from the top of my chest, down to just above my waistline of these cotton pajama pants. I wiggle underneath his touch, goosebumps rising all over my skin. I earn a small chuckle from him. My breathing is already ragged and my skin is on fire. 

Harry's sitting there with his knees on each side of me, staring down at me with an evil smirk on his face. I'm practically begging him through my eyes and he finally decides to bring his hands back to my body. 

His large hands run over the curve of my torso, moving from the bottom of my stomach to just below my breasts. Harry has always loved to tease me, no matter what it is. Sexual or not. It's his favorite thing to do. Within a blink of an eye, I feel his mouth on the middle of my chest.

Harry plants soft kisses in a straight line down the middle of my breasts before taking a detour and covering my nipple. My chest drops from a breath I didn't know I was holding and I close my eyes once I feel him take my other in his hand. I force open my eyes and look down at him. 

Dark greens make their way up to look me in the eyes once his tongue starts circling around my nipple but rips away to give kisses down my stomach. My breathing has been getting heavier by the second and he loves it. He loves knowing he can completely take over my mind and body by his touch. 

I wiggle under him, begging him with body language that makes him smirk. He moves closer down towards my legs, running his fingertips down my torso to my shorts. He curls his fingers underneath the waistline of the shorts, pulling them down ever too slowly, keeping his eyes on my skin to watch bumps appear. 

Harry licks his lips before sucking them in while he tosses my shorts onto the floor, showing off my hot pink panties. His left thumb and pointer finger take ahold of the little white bow that's sewn underneath the laced hem and twists it while having a cheeky smile. 

"Cute." He says, looking me in the eyes. I swallow hard getting impatient at the lack of touch I'm getting from him. I begin to spread my legs underneath him and he goes to look from the eagerness. "Wet already?" His head lifts back up and he moves his knees back, getting himself off the bed away from me. 

Harry runs a hand through his hair before taking in his view. I watch as the corner of his lip comes between his teeth and it causes me to move my legs back and forth for a few seconds from the throbbing I'm getting down there by just looking at him. 

"You have no patience, do you?" His voice is so low, I'm dying to feel his tongue and fingers. I'm hungry for him and I can tell he's hungry for me. "Do you want me to touch you?" He asks, stepping closer to the end of the bed. I nod quickly, keeping my eyes locked on his. He takes my knees in his large hands, spreading them far apart before opening his mouth to speak. "Here?" Harry asks bringing his middle finger to my clothed clit, putting pressure on it. My eyes close and I raise my back from the bed then feel his hand press down on my stomach. My eyes go back to him and he's staring down at my panties that are probably showing off the prominent wetness. He brings his middle finger back to the most sensitive part of my body but runs it slowly back and forth a couple times before looking me in the eyes. 

Out of nowhere, he hurries to get my panties off, tossing them to the floor next to my shorts. Harry doesn't waste another second, he gets on his knees the same time he wraps his arms around my thighs to pull me closer to the end of the bed. A mixture of a giggle and squeal escape against the fabric of my shirt and I stare down at him, waiting. Waiting for the sensation to finally take over my body completely. I'm waiting for the build up in my stomach to burst. The feeling of his curls tickling my thighs causes my legs to already stutter a shake which causes him to chuckle.

"I haven't even tasted you yet and you're already shaking." Harry keeps his right hand on my stomach, making sure I keep still once he brings his tongue between my folds. 

My head rolls back in the pillow, pinching my eyes shut. I feel my mouth part open and I gasp the same time I look down at him in between my legs. The more his tongue moves, the more I move my body which is only aggravating him. His hand isn't doing a very good job keeping me still that's for sure. Harry's head lifts up from my folds and he licks away my liquid on his now swollen red lips. "Stay still." He almost demands with hooded but seductive eyes and I nod before looking up at the off white colored ceiling, trying to concentrate more on not moving. I try my best to keep my back on the bed once his tongue finds its way back onto me.

The tip of his tongue goes in zig zags, up between my folds and I give a small moan which cause Harry to give me a smirk from being proud of himself. His mouth finally moves to my clit and that's where I begin to feel myself building up to lose it all together. I lift my head from the pillow, still trying to keep still, and look down at him. Seconds later, his eyes look up, piercing into mine all while his tongue goes into sloppy circles. My thighs tense, almost magnetically pulling back together but Harry keeps them separated, his arms still around them. I'm suddenly falling back into the pillow, moving my arms away from above my head not being able to handle the pleasure I'm receiving. I swipe my hands across his hair wanting to pull but stop myself, knowing that he's not allowing that tonight. 

Without warning, I feel a finger enter me, moving in and out while he's still working on my favorite spot. That's where I lose it, my lips part and my back lifts up off the bed.

"That's it, come for me. Only for me." I hear his husky accent and feel his breath against the wetness down there. I obey his command, letting go for him. Electricity fills my veins, my toes curl, and my legs begin to shake under his grip. As hard as I try to bring my knees together, Harry doesn't allow it. His arms keep my thighs apart so he can keep going, watching my high until I'm having to take my shirt out of my mouth and beg him to stop from the sensitivity.

I watch as he stands up straight, licking his lips and wiping away my high with the back of his hand after cleaning me up with his tongue. 

A smirk, showing off some teeth appears, while he watches me try to catch my breath. My head falls back in a sharp breath and I take a couple deep breaths to control my heart rate. I feel the bed shift on the side of me and I look over at Harry who plops on his stomach, grabbing the pillow. He closes his eyes and smiles at me when he senses my staring. 

"That's it? You're just going to go to bed now?" I ask in a laugh and his right eye opens to look at me. A dimpled smile appears once he recloses it and yawns. 

"That's all the fun I have the energy for." He tells me, sucking in his beautiful red lips. I roll my eyes to myself in a smile and get up to get on a pair of new panties after tossing the others in the hamper. What an interesting thing to wake up to in the middle of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you for taking the time and reading the beginning <3

[stabbyfoxandrew]

mer au🙏

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 68)

Abram stares at Andrew for a moment. Then finally accepts the call and holds the phone up to his ear, still looking into Andrew's eyes. The blond seems a bit amused by the whole situation. It's almost offensive. But Andrew doesn't know his history with cell phones, doesn't understand how scary this is.

"Can you hear me?" Andrew asks, his real voice mixing with the phone coming through the speaker. Abram nods. Andrew closes his eyes. "I can't see you, Abram. We're on the phone so you have to answer with words."

Abram closes his eyes as well before whispering, "I can hear you."

"Then listen to me," Andrew pauses for a second and Abram hears him rearrange his shopping on his arms. "We're a pod now, right? We will stay together and keep each other safe. And if we ever get separated, I will call you and you will answer. Say it."

"If we get separated, you will call and I will answer." Abram repeats, eyes still closed. He's sure they look like a couple of idiots, talking on the phone when their arms are a breath away from touching. "And then we'll find each other. And it'll be okay."

"Good." Andrew's arm knocks into Abram's. "We found each other. You can hang up now."

Abram snaps the phone shut, ending the call, and opens his eyes to find Andrew staring at him intently. He's immediately defensive. "What?"

"You have really long eyelashes," Andrew says, sounding perturbed. 

Abram blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"It's fine." Andrew says, making Abram snort. Then he gestures with his shoulder towards a sporting goods store. "One more stop then I'll quit bleeding you dry."

"What do you need there?"

"One of these," Andrew says, tapping Abram's duffle bag. "I'm not living out of a dozen plastic bags."

"Oh, right. Okay. Let's go." Abram watches Andrew slip his phone into his pocket and copies him before leading the way. It doesn't take long to find the duffle bags. Andrew grabs one without copious branding and starts towards the checkouts, but Abram vetoes it. "Not that one."

Andrew blinks down at his selection. "What's wrong with it?"

"Look at it," Abram says. Andrew does, then shrugs. Abram sighs. "The material is flimsy, the strap is 'padded' but that just makes it more annoying— trust me—, and the zippers don't look sturdy. It'll last you a week. Tops."

Andrew clenches his jaw, but puts it back. "Which one do I get then?"

Abram walks along the wall of bags, feeling the fabric of each until he comes across one made of thick canvas. He takes it down and yanks the zippers back and forth a few times. Then he sits it on the ground and plunks his own bag beside it. They're almost the exact same size. Since Andrew picked out an approximation of Abram's wardrobe it should hold all of Andrew's new things. Except... Maybe his second pair of shoes.

"This one." Abram says, passing it to Andrew before slipping his bag back over his shoulders. Andrew tests it and nods.

"Cool."

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Helping you overcome your fears of mental hospitals || ScarecrowXoc Prompt

Imagine being afraid of the very place designed to help you. That was your problem, you didn't want to be admitted, not again, not ever.

This fear hid in your heart for years as you struggled mentally, and little did you know, but one day someone was going to change your outlook. His name is Jonathan Crane, and he's your partner.

You two have been dating for some time, and while you've told him bits and pieces, you never gave the whole story. You didn't think this would last. Luckily for you, it did last and Jonathan knew more than what you were letting on. He's quite good at that.

One day, while the two of you were having some lunch in your apartment, he asked you a series of questions, prodding you. He's not the BEST at helping, but he doesn't see it that way. He's the type to put a spider in someones hair to help them overt come arachnophobia. It doesn't work that way, unfortunately.

He suggested you see a doctor at Arkham, which to you, seemed like too much and made it confirmation that he thought you where crazy, or at least too depressed to deal with. You didn't want to be admitted to a mental hospital, but especially NOT ARKHAM. In your mind, that was a real fear, and the loss of autonomy would be paralyzing. You knew those doctors used dirty tricks. Even Jonathan uses the same tricks. Wait...was this a trick? He seemed genuine in his words, but you know better.

Jonathan assured you that he would stay with the doctor during sessions, and that you could trust him. You don't have to unload your whole life's story, it's -just- an intake.

That didn't help much, you told him. You hated those places, the grey walls and dingy floors, the padded socks and the whole, only the irredeemable end up here, vibes.

But Jonathan was determined to help, he actually LIKED you and that's saying something for doctor no friends Crane.

Later that week you two walked into the asylum, nicely enough, hand in hand. He handled the paperwork, he talked to the receptionist. He made it easy. Well, as easy as being admitted to a mental hospital can be.

What helped in the moment, aside from some fidget toys, was the fact that you went to a part of Arkham reserved for the general public. It's not like you're in a cell next to Joker. You're in a room with a couch, some toys, low comfortable lighting and a box of tissues and mints. It doesn't seem so scary, yet.

Your therapist was nice, lotta questions, but anytime you felt anxious you squeezed Jonathan's hands and he comforted you with a forehead touch or soft cheek kiss. He even asked you if you wanted him to attend future appointments, or if you would rather go alone.

You'd make that choice later, but either way, you knew he was on your side. Arkham now, doesn't seem so scary. It's not as sterile as other places you've been, and perhaps not nearly as bad as the public and rogues make it out to be. Maybe the doctors truly do care. At least, the one assigned to you did.

They reassured you that you are not being admitted to a room at the end of the session, but that they would like to see you make a few appointments for future visits. This is YOUR choice. You can even go somewhere else around the state, should you desire. You could go private practice, or whatever you are comfortable with. They made it clear that you are not in danger or being trapped in this place. You are a human with rights and needs. They simply want to help

And Scarecrow? Well, he wouldn't don a costume unless you were in danger. he was going to support you in this journey, and thankfully no additional spiders in your hair!

You knew that day, as you stepped out into the sunlight, that he loved you.

[odycal-pbarnes]

Gochi week - napping

ChiChi had learned very early on in their marriage, that as much as her husband loved to be active, traversing even the most remote parts of Mount Paozu to find the best hunting and fishing spots, or training with seemingly reckless abandon, Goku was an absolute stickler for proper rest time.

Taking Gohan with him when he’d leave to go fishing or to spar when their boy had hit a wall in his studies; even Piccolo hadn’t been safe from his watch while he stayed with them while they were preparing for the androids. The Namekian would often find himself being dragged back to their home whether he was conscious or not after an exhaustive training session. 

She'd lost count of how many times he'd literally swept her off her feet only to plop her down somewhere comfortable to take a break whenever he noticed she was overworking herself again.

So, even after he’d been gone for those seven years, she was only mildly surprised when she suddenly found herself cradled against his chest as he carried her to the living room and gently deposited her onto the couch before pressing the remote into her hand.

“All these years and you’re still the same, ya gotta learn how to take a break Chi.” Goku chided lightly, a hint of amusement in his voice and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before she had a chance to argue and straightened, heading back into the kitchen where he’d found her, finishing her task of clearing the table and counters before he started on the pile of dishes in the sink.

She was still tempted to argue with him, to insist she was fine, that she was used to the work, but this was one of the few things that he put his foot down over and knew from experience that he had no issue returning her to where he put her as many times as it took for her to eventually give up.

With no choice but to admit defeat, she huffed and called out a thank you, a small laugh escaping her when he flashed her that beaming smile of his when he knew that he’d won before turning back to his task.

Finding the sight of her husband far more interesting than whatever was on the tv at this time of day, ChiChi readjusted herself to a more comfortable position, watching him contently as he rocked from side to side, humming the theme song of a cartoon that Goten was currently obsessed with as he worked, almost entranced by the way his muscles bunched and relaxed under the thin material of his shirt.

He’d been back for weeks now and it still seemed so surreal to see him here, living and breathing, looking just as he did the morning he and Gohan had left to battle Cell. 

It hadn’t been seamless of course, seven years was a long time to be away after all; but somehow he’d managed to slot himself back into their lives almost naturally, making moments like these feel like he’d never been gone in the first place.

A sense of peace washed over her, the feeling reminiscent of their first five years together before all the chaos that Raditz’ arrival had triggered and felt her eyes begin to droop; the running water, soft clinking of china and Goku’s soft baritone more potent than any lullabye.    

Goku smiled softly as he felt ChiChi’s ki settle and even out, stifling a laugh when he peeked behind him to find her asleep, her head resting in the crook of her arm, leaning over the arm of the couch, the remote still hanging loosely from her other hand. He decided to let her sleep as long as she needed, knowing the adjustment to keep not only their boys fed, but now him as well was taking its toll on her, no matter how much she tried to deny it. 

He quickly finished what was left and turned off the faucet, flicking the excess water from his hands before drying them and padded over to her, admiring his wife for a moment before gently scooping her up into his arms and settled himself onto the couch, repositioning her on his chest, taking care not to wake her.

He hummed his contentment as ChiChi snuggled into him further after he’d draped a blanket over them, the weight of her on him reminding him of just how much he had missed this while he was in Other World. 

While he had stuck with his decision to stay among the dead, adamant to keep his family and friends safe, he’d regretted it so many times over the course of those seven years. Training and fighting in the Other World tournament had been fun and welcome distractions, but ChiChi and Gohan would always be on his mind whenever he’d had time to himself. 

He’d always wonder how big Gohan was getting, if he was happy, how he was doing with his studies; he missed hearing about all the things he’d learned, his sweet boy excitedly spouting facts about some cool bug they’d found while out on a hike and him listening along eagerly, despite not knowing any of the terminology he’d used.

And then there was ChiChi; thinking about her had always been hard. She had been hurting so much the last few years before he’d died the second time, crisis after crisis popping up, always tied to him in one way or another and he realized not for the first time how lucky he had been that she’d decided to stay with him through all of it.

He knew she’d be angry and heartbroken when she learned of his death, but often wondered if she’d also been relieved when he’d decided to stay away. 

Wondered if maybe she’d even found someone else who could give her the kind of life she’d wanted; a life of peace and safety, a life that despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to provide while alive.

The thought of her moving on had always brought a tightness to his chest that made it hard to breathe despite not having the need to do so. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted her to find happiness after his passing, nothing could be further from the truth; but the thought of another man holding her in his arms, being intimate with her in a way that only he’d known and her returning those affections drove his instincts haywire. 

He couldn’t help the rush of emotion that coursed through him when he showed up at the tournament and there she was, just as beautiful as the morning he’d kissed her goodbye for the last time, teary eyed and happy to see him, making a point to tell him that she’d missed him. 

And Gohan, his sweet, smart, amazing little boy, who was now just shy of being a man and nearly as tall as he was had quite literally thrown himself into his arms with a force that could’ve easily sent a lesser man flying, strong arms and legs curling around him in a bone crushing hug that was returned in equal fervor, no words needed in that moment as he held his boy, relieved that he hadn’t grown to hate him for his choice. 

That relief had been short lived however, only to be replaced with guilt and regret after he’d put Gohan back down on his feet and caught the gaze of a tinier version of himself peeking at him from just behind ChiChi, his little hand gripping the fabric of her pants before he’d shyly ducked behind her legs.

He’d felt like his head was underwater, the excited ramblings from everyone around him  suddenly muffled, his knees going weak as the realization slammed into him harder than any opponent ever could. 

She’d given him another son and he’d never known; never got to hold him in his first moments after he came into the world, never heard him say his first words, never seen him take his first steps, didn’t know his name, what he liked to do for fun, his favorite food, his favorite color, what he wanted to be when he grew up, or any of the other important things that a dad should know about his little boy.

When Goten had rushed into his arms after they’d introduced each other, he’d barely been able to keep the tears prickling in his eyes at bay as he scooped him up eagerly, overjoyed that his little boy had accepted him and wished that he’d had more time to be with his family than just the twenty four hours Baba was able to allow him. 

In the aftermath of their fight with Buu, after the dust had settled and the adrenaline had faded, the realization that he’d been given another chance at life had finally started to sink in. He was eternally grateful for the Old Kai’s sacrifice, especially after ChiChi had quite literally sobbed with joy at the news that he was coming back for good, his boys clinging to him for dear life, tears in their eyes while they excitedly chattered over one another, telling him about all the things they wanted to show him.

“Honey? Wha’s wrong, you okay?” ChiChi asked, her head popping up from his chest after she’d felt the uptick in his heartbeat, her voice thick with sleep and laced with concern.

“I’m fine Chi, just thinkin’, go back to sleep.” He reassured sheepishly with a smile and ran his fingers through her hair that she’d tied back into a low ponytail, reminding him of when they were younger.

“Ya sure?” She prodded gently, knowing he had the habit of keeping his feelings hidden behind that goofy smile of his.

“I know ya say tha'cha ain't good at readin' ki, but I’m thinkin’ ya got a natural talent for it.” He praised in an attempt to distract her, delighting in the soft blush that dusted over her cheeks as she scootched herself further up his chest and met her halfway when she leaned in for a kiss.

“Or maybe, I’ve been wit'cha long enough to be able to read ya; now what’s on your mind?” She teased lightly when they parted and tapped him on the nose with her finger, looking at him expectantly and waited patiently when he sighed and his eyes softened.

“Just thinkin’ ‘bou'cha an' the boys an’ how much I missed out on; musta been hard raisin’ our boys all on your own for so long, ‘specially with them bein’ half Saiyan to boot. I shoulda come back when I had the chance and been there for ya.” Goku answered after another heavy sigh and let his head fall back against the arm of the couch, his eyes tracing invisible patterns into the ceiling. 

“Hey,” ChiChi called out to him softly, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek, waiting to continue until he lifted his head to meet her eyes again. “I already told ya that I forgave ya when we talked after ya came home, an’ I meant it. Ya did what ya felt ya had to do in order to keep us safe. Now you’re back and have the opportunity to make up for lost time, ya shouldn’t waste it by getting stuck in the past and dwelling on what coulda been.” She reassured, tracing her fingertips over the lines of his face, her lips turning up into a smile after he’d given her a genuine smile this time.

“I love ya.” He said, catching her hand to press a kiss to her fingers.

“Love ya too; now, ya gonna tell me how long I’ve been asleep for?” She replied playfully, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Not that long, maybe an hour?” He answered, humming thoughtfully after taking a look at the clock on the wall.

“An hour?! Goku you shoulda woke me up instead of comin’ to lay down with me! I’ve got cleanin’ to do and lunch an’ dinner to prep, and we still gotta meet with Old Mr.Taro about gettin’ that tractor; I’m gonna be so far behi-” ChiChi listed off worriedly, nearly scrambling to get off the couch when Goku’s arm wrapped around her securely, pulling her back into his lap as he sat up. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy Chi! There’s no rush; I’ll help ya with the food, the house is already clean enough, it don’t need to be spotless an’ we don’t gotta meet with Mr. Taro ‘til the boys are almost outta school, we got plenty of time.” Goku countered, his tone filled with reassurance, his hand running up and down her back soothingly, easily coaxing her to relax back against him.

“But-” she tried to resist and went to push herself away from his chest when he cut her off, much to her annoyance.

“No buts, ya promised me that you’d stop gettin’ all worked up over the small things; you’re gonna end up givin’ yourself a heart attack from all that stress, an’ speakin’ from experience, it ain’t fun.” He argued lightly and pointed her with a look that made her deflate and lean back against him with a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, her voice small as she tucked her head under his chin, feeling guilty; so far Goku had been holding up the promises he’d made and yet she was still struggling with keeping up just the one he’d asked of her.

“S’okay, I forgive ya. It’s gonna take practice, but I know you’ll get it eventually.” He encouraged, a slight teasing air to his voice and pulled her back just far enough to press his lips to her hairline, breathing in her scent deeply, humming contentedly as she calmed.

“Promise?” ChiChi asked, her voice lilting with affection as she rested back against his chest and wrapped one arm around him as much as she was able while her other hand traced patterns against his chest.

“Promise.” Goku answered, humming his pleasure when she kissed just above the collar of his shirt after he’d wrapped his arms around her, giving her an affectionate pat on the bottom before rubbing circles into her back until her weight once again sank against him fully.

He didn't bother to resist when he felt the need to yawn and scooted himself a bit lower so he wouldn't have to worry about having a crick in his neck when the alarm Chichi had set would eventually go off and let sleep claim him.