#temporary containment walls.

[tuffwrap]

Exploring Types of Temporary Containment Walls: Solutions for Safety, Flexibility, and Efficiency

In construction, renovation, or industrial settings, managing space efficiently and ensuring safety are crucial. One tool that professionals rely on is temporary containment walls. These walls provide flexible solutions to create secure, private, or controlled environments. Whether you're looking to prevent dust spread during a renovation, manage hazardous materials, or simply enclose a space temporarily, there’s a containment wall designed for the job.

Let’s explore the different types of temporary containment walls and how they serve various needs across industries.

1. Modular Panel Systems

Best for: Construction sites, cleanrooms, temporary offices.

Modular panel systems are among the most versatile temporary containment walls. Made from pre-fabricated panels, these systems allow quick assembly and disassembly. They are typically constructed from lightweight but durable materials like aluminum, PVC, or steel.

One of the primary advantages is their modularity—you can easily adjust their configuration to fit changing needs, whether you’re creating separate rooms or expanding an area. Because they’re often reusable, modular panels are also an eco-friendly solution for long-term projects.

Advantages:

Quick setup and removal.

Reusable, minimizing waste.

Ideal for semi-permanent use.

2. Plastic Sheeting and Tarps

Best for: Hazardous material containment, short-term projects.

When a lightweight, flexible, and cost-effective option is needed, plastic sheeting and tarps are go-to solutions. These temporary barriers are often used during construction or renovation to block dust, fumes, or contaminants. Made from materials like polyethylene or PVC, plastic sheeting can be hung from ceilings, walls, or scaffolding to create temporary enclosures.

For asbestos removal or chemical containment, specialized plastic sheeting is used to ensure that no particles escape into the surrounding environment. While they lack the durability of modular walls, their affordability and ease of installation make them a popular choice for many contractors.

Advantages:

Inexpensive and easy to install.

Flexible, fits irregular spaces.

Ideal for short-term use.

3. Fire-Rated Temporary Walls

Best for: Environments requiring fire safety, building renovations.

In certain projects, fire safety is a top priority. Fire-rated temporary walls are constructed from materials designed to resist fire for a specific period, helping to contain potential flames and protect occupants. These walls often use materials like gypsum, steel, or specially treated fabrics.

Whether in a hospital undergoing renovations or a commercial building needing fire protection between floors, fire-rated walls ensure that safety standards are met without compromising on the flexibility needed for temporary solutions.

Advantages:

Meets fire safety codes.

Durable and protective.

Suitable for long-term containment.

4. Noise Barrier Walls

Best for: Reducing sound pollution, construction sites near residential areas.

Noise barrier walls are essential in environments where loud work could disturb the surroundings. Made from sound-absorbing materials like acoustic foam panels, these walls help to reduce sound transmission from construction or industrial work, ensuring minimal disturbance to nearby residents or workers.

These barriers are often used in urban construction zones, highways, and factories. Their primary function is to create a quieter environment both inside and outside the work zone, making them indispensable for maintaining public relations and comfort in busy areas.

Advantages:

Effectively reduces noise.

Improves quality of life in noisy areas.

Flexible and customizable for various settings.

5. Concrete Barriers

Best for: Heavy-duty containment, site security, or water diversion.

When strength and durability are key, concrete barriers come into play. Although not walls in the traditional sense, concrete barriers are often used as temporary containment structures. These solid, heavy units are used to block off large areas, divert water, contain debris, or provide security perimeters on construction sites or event spaces.

Due to their robust nature, they’re also commonly used in traffic management, providing both a physical and visual barrier to unauthorized access.

Advantages:

Extremely durable and strong.

Offers physical security and containment.

Useful for large-scale projects.

6. Dust and Debris Containment Walls

Best for: Controlling dust in construction, demolition, and renovation.

Containing dust and debris during construction is a top priority for worker safety and the environment. Specialized dust containment walls are used to isolate work zones and prevent particles from escaping into the air. These walls are made from breathable yet durable materials like woven polyethylene or nonwoven fabrics, ensuring that air can flow while trapping harmful particulates.

In commercial building renovations or healthcare settings, dust containment walls ensure that contaminants don’t affect air quality or create health hazards for nearby occupants.

Advantages:

Effective at containing dust and debris.

Can be used in sensitive environments like hospitals.

Improves air quality and worker safety.

7. Reusable and Sustainable Containment Walls

Best for: Eco-conscious projects, long-term site management.

The rise of eco-friendly construction practices has brought forward sustainable containment walls, which are made from recyclable or reusable materials. These walls are built with the environment in mind, often using recycled metal, plastic, or biodegradable materials.

Reusable containment walls also save money in the long term, as they can be repurposed across multiple projects, reducing waste and contributing to greener construction practices.

Advantages:

Environmentally friendly.

Reduces waste through reuse and recycling.

Cost-effective for long-term use.

Conclusion

Temporary containment walls provide essential solutions for various challenges, from ensuring safety and privacy to managing noise and environmental hazards. The versatility of these walls makes them indispensable across industries, from construction and industrial sites to healthcare and renovation projects.

[narcissistshandler]

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟

from the series of thoughts that I only have during the night: I really find it incredibly erotic to fuck a man who, for whatever reason, whether it be a cock ring, a chastity cage or just tiredness/stress, can't get hard. judge me, I don't care. top!male reader and bottom! geto suguru below, no specific warning, but this is a bit angst and dark. minors dni. if you haven't seen part one of season two or haven't read the manga this contains spoilers.

Suguru was tired. Exhausted to the point where he wouldn't even consider dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the icy water that threatened to freeze his bones help with the ever constant tension in his shoulders. The phantom taste of the cursed spirit that lingered in his mouth, consistent even when it had been days since he'd swallowed it. He wanted to vomit. Wanted to pass out under the stream of water. Wanted to sleep for hours at a time, not even considering waking up. It was easy to search for just one word: disappear.

Instead of all that though, he was seduced by your hungry eyes, by your deft fingers always touching him with mastery - and a gentleness that never failed to make him sick. You undressed him as you took his mouth in a deep, sweet kiss that erased the sourness and bitterness rising in his throat, not commenting on the deep, dark circles under his empty eyes, or the decreasing frequency of times he returned to what you called 'home'.

You trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, your every hurried, warm movement giving away just how much you wanted him. And you didn't even point out loud that Suguru wasn't even hard for you.

"It's okay." Suguru opened his mouth to say, using all his remaining strength to touch your wrist where for the last five minutes you've tried to bring him to hardness. Suguru really wanted you. He couldn't think of a better way to take away the darkness that roamed the corners of his mind with memories of the past rather than with your cock inside him. But he knew he wouldn't get hard, It didn't matter how much you tried.

Suguru spread his legs wider around your hips and apparently the look he gave you - desire beneath the exhaustion - was enough. You warmed up the lube and started prepare him with your fingers.

The first finger went in easily, there was nothing but temporary discomfort, yet Suguru felt as if his skin were on fire, the stretching sensation tensing his legs. Familiar noises began to fill the room; three fingers pushed their way inside him and Suguru thought he was close to losing his mind. It felt good, very good. Your fingers opening inside him, making a wet noise each time they moved in and out of him, driving deep, rubbing his prostate. Suguru still wasn't hard, but he didn't care and he knew you didn't either.

He opened his mouth to beg for your cock, his throat dry. Only ineligible noises came out, a jumble of letters that didn't make sense along with your name. "Dema me ur psua [name]," he muttered. "[name] [name] [name]."

Somehow you got it, how could you not when Suguru was writhing in the sheets, feet tucked into the mattress working to sink against your fingers?

The tip of your cock pressed against the taut edge and began to thrust inside; thick, perfect. Suguru's eyes fell closed, a sound that was a mixture of wail and sigh left his lips and his back collapsed against the mattress, as if all the remaining strength left him.

There was barely any burn, but he still felt every nerve in his body ignite with the sensation of your length pushing its way inside him. The tight walls made way for you, his hole molding itself around you. Suguru searched for your lips like a starving man in the desert.

The sound of the waves as in a distant dream faded, taking with it the flashing memories of Riko Amanai, deeper, the smiling face of Haibara beckoning to him faded away into the darkness under his closed eyelids, only the wet sound of skins meeting was left, the grunts that came out of your mouth, the feel of your fingers digging into his thigh, the reality.

The shadows are gone, only an inexplicable calm remains.

Suguru's cock was limp against his stomach without any sign of coming out of it, even when you once again took him in your hand and started to stimulate him. It felt good, so Suguru didn't tell you to stop. He surrendered to you, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as you began to move, in and out of him, each time faster and stronger until you were fucking him mercilessly into the mattress in an uncomfortable position that pressed his knees close to his head.

One of your hands moved up his taut stomach and began pinching his nipples hard, eliciting groans from him. Suguru knew that the next day his nipples would be sensitive, his hole swollen and red, but he didn't care, in fact he wanted this desperately: to carry the marks of your belonging on his body, so that he could remember the heat, violence and control of your touches.

His hole tightened with rhythmic contractions, the feeling of being full, of having you filling him to the brim was too much. Suguru gasped against your mouth, barely finding the will to pull away from you, even if it was a mere kiss. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth and urged you to do the same, to take all your frustrations and tiredness out on his body. He needed this.

Words weren't necessary.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, your thrusts became faster and deeper, nails digging into his skin. Suguru knew how to make you hurt him and he knew you wouldn't stop if he didn't tell you to. All of him craved the pain and anything else you wanted to give him. The admission was a dark and heavy veil: Suguru was yours to take and he was broken.

Desperately, he mentally begged: please hurt me more. Hit me, scratch me, bite me, pull my hair harder, fuck me until I bleed, fill me up until I taste you in my throat. Make me feel. Remind me that I'm not alone.

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - One

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)

Series Masterlist

Working as a secretary at Miller & Son's Construction had its highs and lows. You loved the job. The pay was great, and all the guys treated you impeccably, but there was just one slight problem that, if you were honest with yourself, wasn't really a problem but more of a personal issue. 

You were in love with Joel Miller. 

At 21, Joel was already shaping up to be a fine businessman, taking on a lot of the work from his father so that Cole Miller and his wife Lucia could take more time for themselves. The youngest Miller brother Tommy was shaping up to be a troublemaker. At 17, he was often out drinking with his friends and getting himself arrested and it had fallen to Joel to bail his little brother out every time. 

You were a year younger than Joel but as he always said, years ahead of him on the maturity scale. You had always been an old soul but that hadn't stopped you from developing the biggest schoolgirl crush on Joel the day you had started, two years ago. What had started off as a temporary job before you went off to college became permanent when your mum had gotten sick and your dreams of going to college were dashed. 

Her illness took her a year after she had been diagnosed and with no father to speak of, you were left alone in the house you'd grown up in. Alone, with nothing but the photos on your walls for company. That time had been what had brought you and Joel closer together but had also forged your crush into what it was now. Unrequited love. 

Or so you thought. 

"Sup Pip." Said Joel as he placed a paper coffee cup down beside your keyboard "How's my favourite secretary this mornin'?" 

"I'm you're only Secretary Miller." You chuckled as you picked up your cup to take a sip and hummed at the perfect coffee flavour that exploded across your taste buds "Better now you've brought me coffee." 

"Always happy to assist Pip." He said with a wink and you prayed your flushing cheeks didn't give away how much his wink affected you. 

Pip had been a nickname Joel had affectionately given you around three months after you had started. You had been eating a plum at your desk, not a care in the work and engrossed in the customer email that you were reading that you hadn't noticed that the next bite you had taken had contained the pip. Joel had walked in just in time to witness you choking and, using his first aid training he'd acquired just the week before, had managed to save you from a fruity death. 

From that day he had called you pip. 

Because you'd almost choked on one. 

"Anything I need to know about before I head to the site?" Joel asked, pulling you from the memory of your near-death experience and you shook your head slightly before giving him what you hoped was a bright smile. 

"Yes." You replied as you pulled out the list you had compiled for him "A Mr and Mrs Cork have emailed, wanting a quote for an extension and kitchen refit." You stated as you handed him the email with a post it note with their number on top "You have a call with a new cement supplied at 2 and Gloria Mullins called this morning asking that you call her when you get a chance, apparently her boiler is on the fritz again." 

"I need to tell that woman one of these days that I'm not a plumber." He chuckled to himself as he took the rest of the notes from you. 

"You just need to stop being so nice." You chuckled "You've set their expectations now." 

"I think you're probably right." Joel chuckled as he grabbed his own coffee cup and took a large swig "Anything else?" 

"There's just one more thing." You said shyly as you smiled awkwardly "I need to duck out a little earlier today." 

"Hot date?" Joel asked and you knew he could see you blushing now. 

"Actually yeah." You answered as you looked down at your hands, missing the way Joel's expression dropped "Simon asked me to dinner." 

"Simon Richards?" He asked and you nodded "Oh, wow. I uh... I didn't realise you were into him." Joel shrugged before taking another sip of coffee to try and settle his nerves. 

"Well, he's cute and sweet and it's not like I have guys lining up to ask me out." You replied, your smile almost sad "So I thought I should at least go. See if there's any chemistry there." 

"Sure... Of course." 

Joel knew his response was cold but he couldn't help it. Learning that you were going on a date just made him want to find the nearest pillow and scream. These feelings he had for you drove him crazy and it didn’t help that all his employees knew how he felt about you too. He’d allowed them to plant false hope when they told him that it was obvious you felt the same way. It was becoming painfully clear now that that wasn’t the case. 

He needed to get over you. 

You couldn’t help but notice the slight icy tone that had coated Joel’s response to your request and you couldn’t help be feel a little confused by it. You never asked for things. Often worked late to make sure everyone and everything was up to date. You would argue that you were one of his hardest workers so sue you for wanting to let your hair down a little. 

It’s not like he felt for you the way you did for him. 

“Sure.” He said after a short and awkward pause “Lord knows you deserve an early finish.” He chuffed before gathering his bag, the papers you’d given him and his coffee “And, seeing as I won’t be back today and Friday, I suppose I’ll see you Monday!”

“That you will!” 

“Enjoy your date, Pip.” he finished before giving you a friendly wave and then leaving. 

“I’ll try to.” you said sadly as you watched him walk away. 

...

"You are my hero!" Hailed Gloria as she clapped in delight at Joel's handy work. 

"Was an easy fix." Joel shrugged as he waved the older woman off. 

"You always talk yourself down." She chuckled, her Jamaican accent coming out thicker with her statement. 

"I'm just speaking the truth ma'am." 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gloria?" The older woman chuckled and Joel winked as he replied. 

"At least once more."

"Auntie G... you home?" Came a voice that Joel didn't recognise and he looked up just as the owner walked into the room he had occupied with Gloria.  

"Ah, darlin' this is that fine man Joel I was tellin' you about." Said Gloria as she smiled at her niece. 

Joel was instantly aware of the fact he was wearing paint-stained jeans and a t-shirt so worn that he was sure this mysterious girl could see his nipples through it. 

"Joel, darlin' this is my niece, Eliza." Gloria stated and Joel quickly rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans before taking the hand that was being held out to him.

"Nice to meet ya' darlin'." He said sweetly as he gave her a shy smile "Was just helpin' Gloria here with her boiler. Darn thing needs replacin' really but-"

"I won't replace something just because it's a little saucy with me sometimes.' 

"You won't replace it because poor Joel here keeps fixing it for free." Eliza teased and Joel scratched the back of his neck nervously as he replied. 

"Well not completely free." He chuckled "She sends me away with weeks worth of food." 

"You're too skinny." Gloria chuffed "No girls gonna want to marry a man with no meat on his bones." 

Joel chuckled at the older woman's statement before looking back at Eliza who was grinning at him as she practically fluttered her thick black lashes at him.  

"Well, I need to get to that meeting I was talking about." Stated Joel as he coughed nervously. 

"Don't forget to pop by later for your food!" Gloria ordered as she watched him collect his tools "I made you my famous jerk chicken with rice... peas on the side." She finished with a wink.

"Why on the side?" Eliza asked and Gloria simply rolled her eyes as she said.

"Boy don't like them mixed in." 

Eliza mouthed an 'ooooooh' before watching as Joel started to leave. 

"I'll see you later to grab that food." 

"Or I could bring it by?" Eliz suggested, "You give me your address and I can swing by and drop it off when you're home."

"Oh that's-"

"Ah, splendid idea." Gloria interrupted, leaving Joel looking like a fish out of water "Don't worry dear, I'll give her your address. Get her to drop it by around 9. You're normally home then, right?"

"Right but-"

"9 it is now you best get going or y'all be late." Said Gloria as she practically herded Joel out the door. Leaving him speechless when he made it back to his truck. 

What an earth just happened?

...

The restaurant that Simon had brought you to was nice. Not too fancy but not exactly a dive either. Conversations had been a little awkward at first. You'd not really been on many dates but after being honest with Simon about your lack of dating experiences, he put you at ease and now after one glass of wine and a very large meal, the two of you were chuckling away as subjects came easier to you both.  

"So how long have you worked for Mr Miller?" You asked as you sipped at your second glass of wine. Simon had already been at the company when you had started and was a few years older than you and Joel. 

"More or less straight outa of high school." He replied as he took a swig of his soft drink "Have always been good with my hands so when Cole put up an advert for an apprentice I marched myself over to his office and waited till he got back to speak to him..." 

"Wow." You chuckled around the rim of your glass. 

"Guy liked my tenacity. Offered me the job on the spot." 

"Well, you know my story so..." You trailed off, smiling sweetly at him as he grinned at you.

"So glad you agreed to come out with me." Simon confessed, his cheeks tinging pink "Been wantin' to ask you out a while but didn't outa respect for Joel, but can only wait so lo-"

"What do you mean, out of respect for Joel?" You asked and Simon's expression took on one of a deer caught in headlights.

"Well... with him being into you and all." Simon clarified and your brows drew together as you shook your head.

"Joel isn't into me." You pushed and Simon grew more uncomfortable with each passing moment. 

"He's been crushin' on you more or less from day dot." Your date continued when he saw you needed further clarity "We've always teased him for it but he never made a move so I thought, you know, with him not trying to date you it'd be okay for me to." 

You weren't sure what to do with the information you'd just received. For years now you had pushed your feelings down for Joel because you believed he didn't return them. So to learn that he might really put a spammer in the works for you. 

The subject moved on after that but the atmosphere wasn't as relaxed. After Simon dropped you home, you allowed what he'd told you to run on repeat in your brain. Keeping you from getting to sleep until late that night. Yet, you came to a decision before you finally drifted off. You were going to go to Joel's in the morning and ask him.  

You had to be sure.  

...

Joel wasn't surprised when there was a knock at his door at 9 pm sharp. He opened the door to see a beaming Eliza on the other side, her arms full of food containers. 

"Shit, come in." Joel said before grabbing a few containers to ease the load. "Let me take some of those." 

"Auntie G likes to feed you huh?" She chuckled as she followed Joel into his kitchen. 

"I had to buy a second freezer." Joel stated and Eliza barked out a laugh, taking Joel by surprise. 

"She's always been a feeder." She chuckled before placing the food down beside where Joel had put the other containers "Think it's a Caribbean thing."

Joel chuckled before turning to face his guest. 

"Thank you for dropping this by. You really didn't have to go through all the trouble."

"It's not trouble is I offer." Eliz chuckled and Joel chuckled at her reply. 

"Either way... that you for bringing the insane amount of food your aunt,

made me over."

"You are quite welcome." Eliza replied as she placed herself within kissing distance of him "I wanted to see you again anyway." 

Joel blushed at her statement. Taken aback by how forward she was then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, she was kissing him. Starting softly and gradually growing hotter as tongues tangled. 

"I uh... I feel like I should tell you that I'm kinda getting over someone so I'm not looking for anything serious right now," Joel stated and Eliza chuckled. 

"Who said I wanted anything serious either?" She whispered against his lips "I think I can be of great help... assisting you in getting over whoever this person is." 

Joel looked into Eliza's eyes a moment, trying to discern her endgame. Then, when he was sure that she was being honest with him he kissed her again. The food is forgotten as clothes are discarded in a breadcrumb trail to his bedroom. 

... 

You let out a steadying breath before knocking on Joel's door. Your slightly shaky left hand clutching the to-go coffee tray that contained your and Joel's favourite coffees. You chuckled when you heard Joel inside, calling out to wait a moment before suddenly opening the door, looking rather flustered. 

"Pip." He said as his expression turned from surprised to confused "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about something." You replied with a smile "I brought you a coffee. Mind if I come in?"

"Now's not a great time... what was it you wanted to talk about?" He replied nervously, smiling awkwardly as you handed him the coffee. 

"It's just about something Simon told me on our date last night." You chuckled "You see he said that you have-"

"Who's this?" Asked a woman that you didn't recognise, dressed in a shirt you assumed was Joel's and nothing else. Her brown skin glowing in the early morning light. 

"Oh, I didn't realise you had company." You said awkwardly as you started to take a few steps backwards "I'll um... I'll see you Monday." You choked as you fought to keep your tears at bay, but in doing so you missed the step down and went tumbling onto your backside. Your coffee going all over your arm. 

"Shit... Pip, are you okay?" Joel shrieked as he leapt towards you, stopping dead when you held your hand up to stop him... 

"Fine... I'm fine."

"That coffee'll be skalding." He said as he took another ginger step towards you "We need to get your arm under some cold water or else it'll blister." 

"Please just let me go." You choked, your resolve crumbling under the weight of your sadness and embarrassment "I... I just need to go." You affirmed and Joel nodded, giving you a small smile before stepping back into the threshold of his home "Bye Joel."

The older Miller brother watched with concern etched into his features as you left. Glancing at Eliza who was watching you and looking equally worried. 

"You think she's okay?" She asked and all Joel could do was shake his head as he replied. 

"I don't know."

...

You spent the rest of the weekend dreading Monday morning. You felt like such a fool going over to Joels to, you had hoped, profess your love but instead, you had fallen ass over tit in front of him and his date and burned yourself in the process. Said injury was now wrapped in gauze and throbbing with each knock and graze of your arm on your desk. You had spent the morning wishing you lived somewhere colder so you could hide your accident. 

But alas, it's 100 degrees outside and you were forced to wear a short-sleeved blouse. The air-con once again broke at the most inconvenient moment.

"Morning Pip." Said Joel as he stepped into view, placing your coffee down as he did every morning. 

"Morning." You replied, not takimg your eyes off your computer screen. 

"How's the arm?" He asked upon seeing the brilliant white bandage wrapped around it. 

"Killing me." You answered shortly, still not looking at the man who was desperately trying to pry any form of conversation out of you. 

After a long, heavy pause, Joel spoke again. His question finally tearing your eyes away from your monitor. 

"Did I do or say something to upset you?" He asked, his signature kicked puppy look making your stomach twist.

"No." You answered simply and he nodded. 

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked and your brows drew together "On Saturday... you said you needed to talk to me." He clarified "Said Simon had told you something on your date."

"Doesn't matter now." You bluntly replied before returning to the email you'd been writing before. 

"Seemed important then." 

"Well, it isn't now." You growled, your tone stopping the conversation dead.

"Okay." He couldn't hide how your aggressive tone wounded him. He didn't understand why you were suddenly so cold towards him. What could he have possibly done? 

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Simon as he blasted into the office. 

"Morning Boss!" He said chirpily before turning his attention to you "Morning beautiful."

"Morning" you replied with a smile that he returned tenfold. 

"Fancy going out with me again on Friday?" He asked and you nodded without hesitation "Great!... see you later beautiful."

You grinned at Simon as he left. Not seeing Joel's crestfallen expression.

Perhaps he did need Eliza. 

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[cmdrfupa]

Nanami x Reader

cw: sick terminology (our pookie is having tummy troubles), suggestive if you use a magnifying glass, overall fluff

thank you to @/saradika-graphics for the dividers! 💕

Art in header by the talented @nikawa_2ji! 💕

Being sick isn't exactly something that occurs for Kento. Together for seven years, you could attest to him being ill once. A 24-hour fever he overcame in 10. This bout certainly wasn't the case.

  Kento went to the bathroom attached to his home office, clinging to what he felt were the last remaining pieces of his spirit while hurling for the third time since 4 am. Throwing his eye patch to hell for all he cared, he took his white t-shirt off, placing it under the running water before wrapping it around his neck. The cool sensation gave temporary relief from the wretched sensation of nausea.

Kento entered the hallway, thinking he was fine, only to begin dry heaving again.

"Ken?" You sat the container of flour down, turning your head to listen. He'd been up for a while, and you assumed he was out for his morning jog and maybe stopping at the market. "Kento? You okay?" Nothing.

  "Ugh, fucks sake." he groaned as you heard a thump.

Taking your apron off, you hastily move toward the living room—another spell of retching leads to the hallway instead. The dimly lit hall brought you to your poor husband.

  A shirtless, clammy, and disoriented Kento sat against the wall in the darkened hallway. "Hi, dear."

  You crouched before him, touching his forehead to check his feverish skin, which immediately alarmed you. You pursed your lips before speaking up, "You're burning up, baby.."

  "I don't know what's wrong. My stomach feels like it's being tossed around in a dryer," Kento spoke, taking short breaths between words, his light hair sticking to his forehead.

  "We'll figure that out. But let's get you back to bed. Can you get up?" You placed your shoulder under him, and he slowly wrapped his arm around you, boosting himself up. "What have you eaten in the last 24 hours?" As you strolled, he shuffled beside you, his arm slung over your shoulder.

  "Well, we had lunch here at the house, and then Itadori-kun and I went for a seafood dinner at a restaurant Kugisaki saw on social media."

Sitting him on the side of the bed so he could lie down, he propped himself against the pillows. "We had some sort of paella and maybe a few too many crab legs."

  "Shellfish."

  "How do you know?" Bringing his legs up on the bed, you fluffed the pillows behind him and brought the sheets out in case he needed to cover up.

"It seems to be the possible culprit from what you've told me. Or maybe someone handling your food was a bit unhygienic?" You walked to the bathroom, looking for the first aid kit under the sink to fish out a thermometer and anti-nausea medication. Finding it, you made your way back to Kento's side. "Open."

Eyes closed, he followed orders, the twisting pain in his stomach sending a shiver through his body. The beeping of the thermometer made him focus. "What's the verdict?"

"101.1, which means you're in bed until this passes."

A groan left the sickly man's throat. "It'll pass in a few hours, I'm sure.."

"Your optimism is cute," you kissed his head. Just focus on resting. I'll get you some water to start rehydrating, then get things cleaned up." You placed the nausea medication on his bedside. "And if the room starts feeling like a tilt-a-whirl, let one of these melt on your tongue."

The trip to the kitchen was quick, and upon returning with a glass of water, you watched Kento struggle to open the foiled Dramamine package.

You slide the package from between his nimble fingers. "I've got it, honey."

"What about the plans for my birthday? Gojo will be a nuisance if he thinks I'm faking to avoid his party."

"I know you weren't super excited about the party Gojo was planning, but I'll threaten him if he tries to get fly with me."

"My darling angel of a wife, thank you." He opens his mouth, and you place the tablet on his tongue.

"You owe me, Mr. Nanami." With a wink, you get him comfortable in bed, placing another pillow behind him as he begins to doze off. "I'll come check on you in a bit."

  Kento wasn't sure when you got your wings, but he appreciated having an angel to tend to him. So patient and willing to be by him. Honestly, he didn't know when you got the halo, either. He didn't think you were a full-blown angel until this moment. "A literal angel, wow-" words slurred, and your wings seemingly much more vibrant to him as he passed out into a deep sleep. Ken promised himself he'd verify the angel allegations when he was more fit for thinking.

Day 3 of the stomach virus showed progress despite a rough start. Kento kept trying to force himself to feel better, thinking cat naps would suffice over a good night's rest. But his nausea was a reminder to take it much slower. He watched you prepare for work: a simple black knee-length dress, nude-colored stockings, and his favorite shoes. "The Manolo slingbacks?" Kento perked up in bed. "You know, I'm feeling much, much better today."

You peeked from out of the bathroom. 'You're supposed to be sleeping, not checking me out."

"My love, I'm feeling better than before."

"That's not how this works. You still have a fever, and rest will help get rid of it."

"I am resting; I'm in bed, having bone broth, and not working."

"If you don't want me to go to work, all you have to do is ask."

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay. He had not tried his luck the past two days, but today was different. Kento was needy and required more comfort to sleep. Was this the man cold? He thought he was above that.

"Please. I promise I will sleep if you stay home with me today."

Your heels clack against the wooden floor as you go to his side of the bed. "Take your aspirin, eat a few more spoons of porridge, and I'll hold you while you sleep." a gentle smooch on his cheek earns a soft smile from him. "Let me call Gojo and tell him he'll be handling training today."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Nanamin. I didn't know he'd get sick! I ate way more than he did and felt perfectly okay this week." you called Itadori a few days ago to see how he was feeling. He was more than okay, finding him out with his peers shopping when you called.

Now, he sat across from you in the dining room, a gift bag decorated with 'get well soon' craftily written across it sat next to him as he ate another croissant. The teen was worried he'd killed the man just from the restaurant recommendation alone. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "Yuuji, nothing you've done is the result of this. The food didn't sit well with him." You take another sip of coffee before reassuring the stressed teen. "He's been resting and getting better the past four days. He'll be better and back on campus by the end of the week."

  "Well, can you let him know I dropped by?" Yuuji stuffed the last of his croissant in his mouth before sipping the hot cocoa and dusting his hands on the napkin. "Some of us got together and made a care package. Gojo made him some ladyfingers, Takuma got him some cool handkerchiefs, Nobara bought him one of those spa gel masks for his frown lines, and Fushiguro found an apron that says 'kitchen boss' he thought he'd appreciate… we want to keep his spirits up while he gets better."

  "He'll appreciate knowing you stopped by. And the thoughtful gifts." Grabbing a small container, you went to the kitchen in a few paces. "The rest of these are yours. I'll be closely monitoring Nanamin's food intake for a while, and pain au Chocolat won't be helpful." You strategically place the croissants in the container, handing them to Yuuji. "Be safe getting back to campus."

  "Will do, Mrs. Nanamin! You're amazing. I'll call to check on him tonight!" The teen hugged you quickly before making his way out of the door.

    "Are there any objections?"Nanami looked around, confident there was nobody idiotic enough to-"Wait! Please!" A pale blue-haired worm slithered down the aisle. The guest gasped in shock as the tubular creature began to morph into a human. "Don't go through with this. I love you more than life itself." Mahito stood in front of you, naked with a ring box in hand.Nanami looked at you, eyes wide. "My beautiful bride, please. Please think of the life we're building. I love you so much."" I'm sorry, Ken. I tried hiding my feelings, but my heart is with Mahito." You let go of Nanami's hands, rushing into Mahito's embrace. "Happy Birthday… Nanamin." The wickedness of Mahito's tone brought Kento to his knees.The guests all stood and began to chant, "Over time for eternity," as the church hall slowly faded into a pool of purple liquid.Gojo kneeled next to Nanami. "Kento, it's not the end. You still have me, yeah?.. honey… Ken?" Your sing-song voice was filling his head."Gojo? You sound like my wife."

"Gojo?" confused, you shook his shoulder to wake him. "Kento, wake up."

He sprung up, lungs empty and gasping for air as he looked around.

"You aren't Gojo!"

"Do you want Gojo?"

Profusely shaking his head, "I'd rather not."

"You were having quite the fever dream, it seems."

"It was an absolute hellish nightmare." He grabbed the water from the bedside, glugging it before you took the glass from him, sitting it down. "How long have I been asleep?"

You smoothed his bedhead hair, kissing Kento's temple before lying back with him. "Well, after lunch yesterday, I couldn't wake you up to save my life, but that seems to have been a good thing. Your fever broke. How are you feeling?"

Kento wrapped his arm around you, pushing the covers off with his free hand. A soft huff of comfort released as he felt the midday breeze flow through the room. "Makes sense; I feel so well rested. My stomach feels so much better. But Itadori-kun and I will have our weekly dinners here at home for a while."

"That's more than okay with me. I like it when he visits. I'm always glad to see him, and he also seems happy to come over."

"He'll be happy to know this. Our next dinner is for my birthday; he's been trying his best not to spoil my gift."

  "We have plenty of easy-to-digest meals for the next few days while your stomach settles."

"Yes, dear," he playfully retorted. Nothing sounds better than an easy-to-digest birthday dinner," he jested, pulling you into his bare chest.

  "Oh yeah. Yuuji brought you a care package. He and a few others put some rather lovely items in."

Eyebrows raised, Kento seemed surprised. "Itadori was here? Not sick?"

You nodded. "Left about an hour ago."

"How am I the only one who got sick?"

"To be fair, the boy likes to eat. And he did eat an ancient finger once, so.." shrugging your shoulders as Kento attempted to stifle a laugh unsuccessfully.

"You bring up a fair point. He can put it away."

  Rubbing his belly elicits a quiet hum of a familiar tune. He stops and peers over to you. The rays of the midday sun cast a beautiful golden hue across the bed and onto your shoulders. Kento studied the soft features that structured your face, the feel of your plush leg thrown over his as you hummed the Jimmy Eat World melody. The lack of almost claustrophobic closeness over the last few days has done a number on him.

His rich brown eyes found yours, and warmth crept up the nape of your neck as his lids lowered. "I have something planned for us."

"Something planned?'

"I didn't want you to plan anything for my birthday because I did. It's a birthday and pre-anniversary getaway of sorts. We're going to the hot springs."

Your lips puckered, landing pecks across his chin and neck. "Hot springs? Kenny baby. Do you know how perfect that sounds?"

"Indeed I do. Two weeks of solitude with my angel baby."

"Two weeks?"

"Two. Weeks."

"2 whole weeks?"

"Darling, if you repeat after me again, I'm going to assume you can't hear me."

Getting three consecutive days was pulling teeth. "What did you do to make Yaga go along with two fucking weeks?"

Kissing your shoulder, he brought your hand to his mouth. "Not much." lightly began to kiss each of your fingertips. "We just have to visit the Kyoto campus," He pressed his lips to your wrist to feel your pulse. "For a few days."

"Hm." you squinted as you read between the lines. The exchange event wasn't quite yet, but there were talks of development training that needed a few more grade 1 sorcerers for demonstrations— "You volunteered us for that combat training."

Kissing your palm and making his way up to the crease of your elbow, he wriggles between your legs until hovering over you.

"Nanami Kento."

"Are you going to be upset with your stomach pain-riddled husband? On his birthday, no less. Who loves you more than life itself? Who worships every cell in-"

"I'm getting a new swimsuit," you said, stopping his sweeter-than-honey ramble and kissing his chest. And I'll make sure Gojo reschedules the party, birthday boy."

  "And I'll be there with a shit-eating grin the whole night. My wife is getting a new swimsuit for my eyes only. I can sit through 2 hours of Gojo and everyone else. Best birthday ever."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Deity: Tergrid, God of Fright

"Terror is the natural state of a child, they know they are small, vunrable, glass fragile. It is only once we grow that we delude ourselves into thinking we are safe, that we are strong, that we have control over the world we live in. Show a grown man how little control he really has, and you will see the child he always was: pissreeking, repentant, and pleading for his mother. " - Gerheart, village executioner

A goddess for those who hold close to the light dreading the unknown or those who wander gleefully into the dark seeking it, Tergrid is a deity of imagined horrors and terrible omens.

Depicted as a young woman always bearing a lantern, myths speak of Tergrid's shadow as a monstrous, murderous thing with a will of its own. Unable to kill the goddess due to the light she carries, it vents it's directionless wrath on those who linger beyond the lantern's glow. This duality, as both as the victim of fear and the source of it defines the brightmaiden's worship; as she is both threat and saviour to those who draw her attention.

Adventure Hooks:

The party arrive at a country roadhouse at dusk, only to find the inhabitants have nailed shut every door and shutter as if preparing for a siege. They say some horrid murderous things are lurking just off the road, and as the light wanes they refuse to let the heroes inside. The roadhouse's residents are terrified and are willing to fight to keep the party out, half convinced the party are themselves the things they should be afraid of... which isn't to say there ISN'T anything else waiting for that door to open. After negoitating their way inside (or forcing the issue) the heroes discover the roadhouse residents were warned of the danger by a mysterious woman who passed through earlier, though none can remember exactly what she looked like.

A knight renowned for his fearless deeds wanders the street in a waking nightmare, seeing threats everywhere and lashing out at phantoms and passersby. Even after being subdued it’s clear he won’t awake, and many suspect interference from jealous rivals in the upcoming tourney. The knight’s meek squire asks the party to help investigate the causes and possible cures of her master’s madness, never suspecting that her suppressed resentment at his recklessness might’ve manifested as a curse.

In desperate need of answers, the party consults an oracle dedicated to Tergrid who has them undergo trials of fear and phantasm so that they might know the truth. Chiefest among these is battling in a dark cave full of shadow monsters, while flickering visions of the future are cast on the wall by the guttering lantern light. The longer they can endure, the more they will know, but that isn't likely to be long unless they fight harder than they ever have before.

Inspiration: Tergrid is a shameless lift from Magic the Gathering's Kaldheim setting, which I've never played but apparently keep returning to as a consistent well of inspiration.

Fear both as a mechanic and motif is something I think is underutilized in D&D which is odd considering it's a game about venturing out into the unknown to face potentially deadly challenges. Fear and risk are what our heroes must endure to experience the wonder and rewards on the other side of their journey. As such it makes sense for a goddess of fear to play a role in the thematic weave of the stories we end up telling.

Speaking in less lofty terms, I also think using the lantern as a symbol for being frightened fucks hard. It's a tiny, fragile, and temporary respite from an ocean of darkness and the threats it contains.

Worshippers: The lost and abandoned, Unseele Fey, Shadowcasters and other denizens of the shadowfell. There is also heavy overlap with the worship of the night goddess Nyx.

Signs: Nightmares, unnatural or living shadows,

Symbols: A Lantern, often surrounded by a circle of darkness.

Artsource

[shybluebirdninja]

Abyss of Time

Summary: In a dystopian future where mutants are hunted, Logan, a 170-year-old warrior, meets Y/n, a 25-year-old human who helps mutants escape persecution. Drawn to her bravery, Logan becomes increasingly possessive as their bond deepens, especially when Y/n’s dedication to her cause puts her in danger. Tensions rise as Y/n grows close to another mutant in their group, testing Logan’s control and their relationship. The story comes into the complexities of love and survival in a world where danger lurks at every turn, and Logan’s possessiveness might be the only thing keeping Y/n alive.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Female human-reader

Warning : None

The city was a maze of shadows and ruins, a twisted labyrinth where only the desperate dared to tread. Once a symbol of progress and civilization, it had crumbled under the weight of fear and hatred. The streets, once bustling with life, were now desolate, haunted by the echoes of a war that had left no corner untouched.

Y/n darted through the narrow alleyways, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she led a small group of mutants through the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the adrenaline that had become as familiar to her as breathing. This was her life now—running, hiding, fighting to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The group of mutants following her was a mix of ages and abilities, each one marked by the telltale signs of their genetic differences. In this world, those differences were a death sentence. The government had declared war on mutants, branding them as a threat to humanity, and had unleashed the Sentinels—soulless machines programmed to hunt and kill without mercy.

Y/n had lost count of how many mutants she had helped over the years. She didn’t do it for recognition or reward. She did it because it was right, because someone had to stand against the madness that had consumed the world. And because, deep down, she believed that mutants had as much right to live as anyone else.

As they approached an abandoned warehouse, Y/n slowed her pace, signaling for the group to stop. The warehouse was one of the many safe houses scattered throughout the city, hidden in plain sight among the ruins. It wasn’t much—just four walls and a roof—but it offered temporary refuge from the relentless hunt.

Y/n pushed open the rusted door and stepped inside, her senses on high alert. The interior was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a few battery-operated lamps. She scanned the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and froze when she saw a figure standing in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows.

Logan.

His presence filled the room, an unspoken threat to anyone who dared to cross him. Y/n had heard of him long before they met—stories of a man who had lived for over a century, who had fought in wars that were now the stuff of legend. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of him. Logan was a force of nature, all raw power and barely contained rage, and yet, there was something about him that drew her in, something she couldn’t quite define.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, her voice steady despite the tension thrumming in the air.

Logan stepped into the light, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “Heard you were takin’ a risky route tonight. Thought you could use some backup.”

Y/n bristled at his tone, at the implication that she couldn’t handle herself. “I’ve been doing this long before you showed up. I don’t need your help.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, and you’ve been lucky so far. But luck runs out, kid.”

The endearment, meant to be a casual remark, stung more than Y/n cared to admit. She wasn’t a child, and she resented being treated like one. But she also knew better than to argue with Logan when he was in this mood. Instead, she turned to the group of mutants behind her, their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion.

“Wait here,” she instructed them before turning back to Logan. “We’ll rest here for a bit, then move on.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’ll keep watch.”

Y/n didn’t bother to respond. She knew Logan well enough to understand that he would do what he wanted, regardless of what she said. As she moved to help the mutants settle in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different, that something was lurking just out of sight, waiting to strike.

Time passed in tense silence, the only sounds the occasional rustle of movement or the distant hum of a Sentinel patrol. Y/n tried to rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. She kept replaying Logan’s words in her head, the way he had looked at her, as if he was trying to protect her from something she couldn’t see.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice at her side. “Y/n?”

She turned to see one of the younger mutants, a boy no older than sixteen, standing next to her. His eyes were wide with worry, his hands trembling as he clutched a worn blanket around his shoulders.

“Are we safe here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to reassure him even though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. “For now, yes. We’ll move again soon, just to be safe.”

The boy nodded, but the fear in his eyes didn’t fade. Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stay close to me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy nodded again, his grip on the blanket tightening. Y/n watched as he returned to the others, huddling close to an older mutant who put a protective arm around him. The sight tugged at her heart. These people had lost so much—family, friends, homes—and yet they still found the strength to keep going. It was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, mutant or not.

Logan’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re good with them.”

Y/n glanced over at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on her.

“They trust you,” he continued, his expression unreadable. “That’s not an easy thing to earn these days.”

Y/n shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “They don’t have much of a choice. It’s either trust me or risk getting caught.”

Logan pushed off the wall and walked over to her, his presence as overwhelming as ever. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping another beat at the intensity in his gaze. She had never been good at reading Logan, never quite sure what was going on behind those eyes. But right now, she could see something she hadn’t noticed before—something that made her pulse quicken.

Logan reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so unexpected, so out of character, that Y/n froze, unsure of how to react.

“You’re brave, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something she couldn’t name. “But bravery can get you killed if you’re not careful.”

Y/n swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I know the risks.”

Logan’s hand lingered for a moment before he dropped it to his side. “I’m not talkin’ about them. I’m talkin’ about you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched at the words, at the implication behind them. She had always known that Logan was protective, that he had a tendency to take on more than he should. But this felt different. This felt personal.

Before she could respond, a noise outside the warehouse caught their attention. Logan’s head snapped up, his senses immediately on high alert. Y/n tensed, her heart pounding in her chest as she strained to hear what had set him off.

The door to the warehouse creaked open, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as a figure stepped inside. For a split second, she feared it was a Sentinel, that their hiding place had been discovered. But then she recognized the newcomer and let out a sigh of relief.

It was Jake, a mutant they had picked up a few weeks ago. He was young, not much older than Y/n, with a cocky grin and a swagger that belied the horrors he had seen. Y/n had grown fond of him, his easy smile and unshakable optimism a rare comfort in a world gone mad.

“Jake,” Y/n breathed, her relief evident in her voice. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Jake grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought I’d check on you guys, see if you needed any help.”

Logan’s expression darkened at the sight of Jake, his posture tensing. Y/n noticed the change immediately, a knot of unease forming in her stomach.

“We’re fine,” Logan said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jake raised an eyebrow at Logan’s response but didn’t back down. “Just thought I’d offer. No harm in that, right?”

Y/n stepped between them, sensing the rising tension. “It’s okay, Jake. We’re just getting ready to move out. You can come with us if you want.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Sure thing. Lead the way, boss.”

Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, but he said nothing as Y/n led the group out of the warehouse. The streets were eerily quiet, the city shrouded in an unnatural silence that set Y/n’s nerves on edge. She kept a close watch on their surroundings, every sense on high alert as they made their way through the shadows.

Logan fell into step beside her, his presence a comforting weight at her side. But she could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely contained anger that simmered just beneath the surface.

As they walked, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, that the fragile peace they had managed to maintain was about to shatter. She glanced over at Logan, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“Logan,” she began, but he cut her off with a sharp look.

“Stay close,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep an eye on him.”

Y/n followed his gaze and saw Jake a few paces ahead, his posture relaxed, seemingly unaware of the danger around them. She frowned, confused by Logan’s sudden hostility.

“Logan, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched Jake. “Just do as I say, Y/n.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but something in Logan’s tone made her stop. She nodded, falling silent as they continued through the city, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

It wasn’t until they reached another safe house, this one a dilapidated apartment building on the outskirts of the city, that Y/n finally had a chance to confront Logan. The others had gone inside to rest, leaving them alone in the dimly lit hallway.

“What the hell is your problem?” Y/n demanded, her voice low but fierce. “Why are you acting like this?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the door where the others had gone, then back to Y/n. “You need to be careful with him.”

“With Jake?” Y/n asked, incredulous. “Why? He’s been nothing but helpful.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his possessive nature rearing its head. “He’s getting too close to you.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the accusation. “Too close? Logan, he’s a friend. That’s it.”

Logan stepped closer, his towering presence making Y/n’s heart race. “He’s a distraction, Y/n. And distractions can get you killed.”

Y/ne’s anger flared at his words, at the way he was trying to control her. “You don’t get to decide who I’m friends with, Logan. You don’t get to dictate who I care about.”

Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her closer. His eyes were blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something that made Y/n’s breath catch in her throat.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea what’s out there, what could happen if you let your guard down.”

Y/n wrenched her arm free, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t need you to protect me, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

Logan’s expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something like regret passing through his eyes. “You’re brave, Y/n. But bravery can be a double-edged sword.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to argue, to push him away, but she couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. She had seen too many people die because they had been too brave, too willing to take risks. And yet, she couldn’t let fear control her, couldn’t let Logan’s possessiveness dictate her life.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the tense silence. Y/n turned to see Jake approaching, his easy grin in place, completely unaware of the storm brewing between her and Logan.

“Hey, everything okay?” Jake asked, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to keep the tension from showing on her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just talking strategy.”

Jake nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Cool. Just wanted to check in before we head out again.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture tensing as Jake turned to leave. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the jealousy that was so obvious it practically crackled in the air.

Once Jake was out of earshot, Y/n turned back to Logan, her voice low and firm. “You need to stop this, Logan. Jake is not a threat.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes hard. “He’s more of a threat than you realize.”

Y/n shook her head, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about Jake. This is about you not being able to control everything around you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his silence only fueling Y/n’s anger. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“I can take care of myself,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

Logan’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I know you can, Y/n. But I can’t help it.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. She had never seen Logan like this, so raw and exposed. It was as if the walls he had built around himself were crumbling, leaving him defenseless against the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress.

Without thinking, Y/n reached out, her hand resting on his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, the warmth of his skin seeping into her own.

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Logan’s hand covered hers, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him. “You won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his words, the promise that lay beneath them. She had always known that Logan was dangerous, that he was capable of doing terrible things in the name of survival. But this was different. This was about something deeper, something that scared her more than any Sentinel ever could. Before she could say anything else, Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gesture that was both tender and possessive. Y/n’s heart fluttered at the contact, her emotions a tangled mess of fear and longing.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Logan murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Even if it means keeping you away from everyone else.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew that Logan’s protectiveness came from a place of love, that he cared for her more deeply than he would ever admit. But she also knew that his possessiveness could be dangerous, that it could drive a wedge between them if she wasn’t careful.

When Logan finally pulled away, Y/n felt the loss of his warmth like a physical blow. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression torn between desire and something darker.

“We should go,” Logan said, his voice strained. “The others are waiting.”

Y/n nodded, her heart heavy with the knowledge that their relationship had just crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. As they made their way back to the group, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, that the fragile bond they had built was about to be tested in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

--------------------

The journey to the next safe house was tense, the silence between Y/n and Logan growing heavier with each passing moment. Jake tried to make conversation a few times, but the mood was too dark, the unspoken tension too palpable for any lighthearted banter to cut through.

When they finally reached their destination, a rundown building that had once been a school, Y/n was relieved to see that the other mutants were already inside, safe and sound. But the relief was short-lived. The moment they stepped through the door, they were met with the sight of another mutant standing in the center of the room, his presence radiating a power that made the air hum with electricity.

Y/n recognized him instantly—Erik, a mutant with the ability to control metal. He was a legend among their kind, both revered and feared for his abilities and his ruthless determination to protect mutantkind at all costs.

“Erik,” Y/n greeted him, her voice wary. “What are you doing here?”

Erik’s gaze swept over the group, his expression unreadable. “I heard you were in need of assistance.”

Y/n ’s heart sank at the words, at the implications behind them. Erik’s help always came with a price, one that Y/n wasn’t sure she was willing to pay.

“We’re managing,” she said carefully, glancing at Logan for support.

Logan’s expression was unreadable, but Y/n could sense the tension in him, the way his muscles were coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Erik’s gaze flicked to Logan, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve made an interesting choice of allies, Y/n.”

Y/n ’s heart skipped a beat at the subtle jab, at the way Erik’s eyes seemed to gleam with something that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Logan’s been a great help,” Y/n said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Erik’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “I’m sure he has. But his methods... they’re not always in line with what’s best for our kind.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the barely contained rage that was so close to the surface.

“We’re doing what we can to survive,” Y/n interjected quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Erik’s gaze shifted back to her, his smile fading into something more serious. “Survival is important, yes. But so is our future, Y/n . And sometimes, to secure that future, we have to make sacrifices.”

Y/n’s stomach churned at the words, at the implications behind them. She knew that Erik was right in some ways, that their survival depended on making tough decisions. But she also knew that Logan wouldn’t take kindly to any suggestion that involved putting her or anyone else at risk.

“I’m not interested in making sacrifices,” Logan growled, his voice low and threatening. “Especially not when it comes to Y/n.”

Erik’s eyes gleamed with a cold amusement. “And there it is—the possessiveness of the Wolverine. It’s almost... predictable.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she glanced between the two men, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. She knew that if something wasn’t done to diffuse the situation, things could get out of hand quickly.

“Erik, we appreciate your concern,” Y/n said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Logan’s arm, trying to calm him down. “But we’re handling things in our own way. Logan’s methods might be unorthodox, but they work. And right now, that’s all that matters.”

Y/n’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, as if weighing her words. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “Very well, Y/n . But remember—sometimes the only way to truly survive is to let go of the things that hold us back.”

With that, Erik turned and walked out of the room, leaving Y/n and Logan alone in the thick silence that followed his departure. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, her hand still resting on Logan’s arm.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Logan’s expression softened as he looked down at her, some of the anger fading from his eyes. “I’m fine, Y/n. But we need to be careful. Erik’s not someone to be trusted.”

Y/n nodded, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that Erik’s words had struck a chord with Logan. There was a darkness in his eyes, a shadow that hadn’t been there before, and it made her worry about what the future held for them.

As they rejoined the others, Y/n couldn’t help but feel that things were about to get a lot more complicated. The fragile peace they had managed to maintain was hanging by a thread, and she had a feeling that it wouldn’t take much to tear it apart.

And as she glanced at Logan, she knew that the possessiveness he felt for her, the fierce protectiveness that drove him, could either be their salvation—or their undoing.

[nightmareweaverz]

What is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader) Part 3

Part 1 || Part 2

CW: Minor character death, canon typical violence, a bit of gore, slight angst

Wordcount: 2538

Here is the third part of "What Is Love?" The next part will be the last one! This has honestly been a lot of fun to write.

Room after room after room, you’ve traveled. Each time a resident appears in your path, you ask them if they know where the exit is. It does not yield many results. If there’s a word for elevator in the other language, you don’t know it. And that, perhaps, is not aiding your search. Still, you persist.

Robin’s frightful nature doesn’t improve much over time. At the very least, it’s keeping him safe. He doesn’t enter rooms before you do and he doesn’t touch anything before you’ve confirmed it’s safe. Part of you is grateful for it.

“Could we rest somewhere for a bit? I'm getting a little tired,” Robin says gently after what's probably been hours of walking.

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

Sparing him any additional injuries has come at a price. After the incident with the toys, you’ve chosen to run from many residents whom you would’ve had no issue subduing on your own. A fight comes with greater risks of injury. As a result, you may have depleted him of energy.

A tiny room, containing a couch and two smashed lamps ends up as your chosen temporary base. Before you allow Robin to sleep there, you check every piece of furniture to make sure nothing hides beneath or inside of them.

He tries to get you to rest with him, but you refuse. Someone has to keep watch. And you’ve come to learn your new body can work on two types of fuel: blood and sleep. You can supply it with one of them later and it will last you plenty of time.

For now, you slide down the wall, just outside the room and settle in a criss cross position. The absence of anything to read makes you wish you’d put in the effort to carry at least one. Perhaps you should search for a bag or backpack after you send Robin off.

Instinctively, you glance around in search of holes in the wall or ceiling. There are none. This is a little disheartening. Despite the way you last parted, Mr. Gap has somehow become someone you’re capable of missing.

Then you suddenly feel something poking your back. Your immediate reaction is to jolt up, crowbar held in preparation. Only to find that you’d set yourself in front of an open drain. Your void dwelling companion is staring back at you, happy with himself for startling you.

“Oh. Hello,” you greet him normally, as if your previous encounter didn't end with you insulting him.

“Human leave?” he asks.

It takes you a moment to realize he isn’t talking about you.

“No. They sleep. Me protect.”

This, for some reason, makes him grimace. Does he dislike Robin that much? They haven’t even interacted yet. What does he have against him?

“You not like they? Why?”

“They not fun.”

You expect him to elaborate, but he does no such thing. Similarly to how he explained why he hangs around you a while back. Because “you are fun.” Whatever that means. You shake your head in defeat.

“Me bored. You give paper?” you decide to try your luck. You’d even be willing to give him a few fingers right now in exchange for something to do.

He seems to be considering it. When he speaks again, you expect him to name his price, hopefully an organ you’ll have an easy time parting with and wouldn’t take long to heal.

“Me want touch.”

This is… new. He hasn’t mentioned any form of touch ever since you gave him that little lesson on romantic love. The fact that he now wants it for a reason other than curiosity makes you feel… odd. Restless, in a way. Like there are flies buzzing in your stomach.

“Me give touch, you give paper,” you conclude.

“Yes!” He sounds a little too happy about this arrangement. But there is no telling what he’s thinking, as usual.

You reach inside the drain and set your hand on top of his head. His hair feels rough and a little damp like the rest of him. You feel a few tangled knots as you caress it gently. Although he must’ve been expecting one of the gestures you’d shown him before, he appears intrigued by this as well.

“Not special touch?”

“You not stay what touch. Me give touch.” It is your turn to be smug.

The corners of his mouth drop and his eyes narrow in annoyance. Was he really hoping for kisses and hand holding? Why do you find that cute?

“Give paper?” you ask, now suddenly feigning innocence.

Still mumbling grumpily, he shoves a magazine your way. It’s impossible not to giggle at his displeasure. He really is bad at reaping what he sows.

You turn your attention to the magazine he gave you. This time, it’s a travel magazine. A surprisingly new one. It’s a little damp and the edges of the pages are curled, but the pictures still have vivid colors and the paper hasn’t yet gained that old, yellowish appearance most other books here have.

But when you look at the cover more closely, you hesitate to open it. It features a tall building. One that looks similar to the one you always used to see on your way home. Home…

You flip through it slowly. And with every page you turn, a suffocating ache grows in your chest. There are pictures of breathtaking landscapes, cliffsides, beaches, jungles, pools and cities. There are pictures of people eating ice cream, pictures of busy streets and local dishes, of bread and potatoes and cake and spicy sauces. You don’t even notice your hands have started trembling.

You eventually stop at a picture of a flower field spread over two pages. Purple flowers reign over half its surface and, above them, a deep blue sky occupies the rest. You can almost smell the perfume, feel the wind in your hair, see the fluffy clouds idling by. The ache in your chest is becoming unbearable.

“What wrong?”

Mr. Gap’s voice suddenly yanks you out of your sorrowful daydream. You’re surprised to find he hasn’t left yet.

“Not like paper?”

You shake your head. “Me like paper. Me want… me want to go where paper show. Me not go. Me different.”

You wonder if someone like him can even understand what you're feeling. He can go wherever he pleases using his little teleportation ability. Meanwhile, you're stuck here. Forever.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Perhaps he’s confused again. But then he declares: “Me good! Me research.” Then he’s gone.

What it is he is hoping to research, you don’t know. But Mr. Gap has surprised you before. Maybe he’ll do it again.

You try to push any depressing thoughts aside and resume reading the magazine without thinking too much about what you will be missing out on for the rest of eternity. You are mostly successful.

A few residents pass by, but none try to pick a fight, which comes as a relief. Eventually, Robin finally emerges from the room. He appears to be in a better mood.

“I needed that. Thank you for keeping watch. It helped me sleep soundly.” He smiles. You're not sure you've seen him smile until now. It suits him better than the constant frightful expression he always wears.

“Don't mention it.”

You set the magazine down by the open vent and take off, motioning for Robin to follow. It would not be wise to dally anymore. Anytime now, he will begin to change. You have to get him out before that happens.

He does as you ask without protest.

“So, um. How much longer until we reach the exit?”

“I don't know. The hallways always change. But we're looking for an elevator. And it's best we find it sooner than later,” you respond.

“I see…”

His expression shifts into nervousness. You want to reassure him that he will make it out, that you’ll make sure of it. But that’s something you aren’t sure you’ve even convinced yourself of yet.

“Do you like reading?” he asks eventually.

“I do, since I started living here. It helps pass the time.”

“My boyfriend also likes reading. He drags me to bookstores sometimes. His favorite are murder mysteries, but sometimes he picks up those useless self help books that don’t actually help much.” Tears glisten in his eyes. “I… can’t even remember what I last said to him before I ended up here. I hope it wasn’t anything bad…”

Boyfriends and bookstores, wanting to say sweet words to loved ones before you disappear. All of these bring back that awful annoying ache. The reminder they are not for you anymore. Part of you pities him and another is so envious that it hurts. Because he still has hope.

“...what's he like? Your boyfriend.”

Robin sniffles and rubs his eyes as he walks. “He's kind and considerate. Sometimes he can be a little exasperating. But that's part of loving someone.”

It is? In books and shows, they always show it as some sort of blissful feeling that melts your insides and makes your life perfect.

“This may sound like a weird question. Sorry. But how do you know you love him?”

“I think about him often. And when he's not there, I wish he was. And if he were to love someone else, I'd lose my mind.” He grins bitterly.

That sounds oddly simple. No flowery language or everly complicated declarations. Just wanting someone at your side. It actually sounds pleasant.

“Are you in love?” Robin asks suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Why would I be?” you answer with another question.

“Usually, when people ask things like this, they're trying to understand their own feelings.”

“I've just been reading. And the love in books confuses me. I was wondering if it's the same in reality.”

Robin laughs. “Of course not. In reality, it's a lot more mundane, though you can still have romantic moments. Fiction highlights the good parts. But there's both good and bad. Sometimes your lover will eat all the cookies before you get home or they'll refuse to put on headphones while listening to music. But then when the jar is entirely full and the music is gone, you miss even the less pleasant things…”

It sounds like Robin really loves his boyfriend. You wonder what it's like, being that important to another person. Could someone like you have that?

There comes that ache again. You push it down, hide it somewhere deep inside yourself.

“...we'll get you back to him.”

Robin doesn't respond, but he smiles fondly.

Your conversation is cut off when you notice someone approaching down the hallway. Immediately, you prepare your crowbar. But as the figure draws closer, it proves to be someone familiar.

It’s Mr. Stitch. Out of all the people you could’ve been reunited with since you’ve returned here, it had to be this guy. And to make matters worse, he recognizes you as well.

“You!” he calls out and points. “Me know you!”

Robin quickly retreats behind you like a scared duckling running to its mother.

“Who they?” Mr. Stitch points at Robin next.

“They friend. You go. Me not like you,” you state bluntly.

Your declaration only seems to amuse him. That awful smile of his grows. “Friend? Me not take?”

“Me smash your head when you take.”

Mr. Stitch does not look deterred in the slightest. If anything, he seems more interested after seeing your reaction. You should've seen it coming, knowing him and how much he loves messing with people's emotions.

“Where you go?”

“W-what are you guys talking about?” Robin asks, growing more nervous by the second.

“Nothing important. In fact, it's about time we leave.”

You grab Robin by the arm and drag him after you.

But as you attempt to pass by Mr. Stitch, he suddenly swerves behind Robin and holds him in place. In your irritation and panic, you get ready to swing at him. But then you notice the knife pressed to Robin's neck. You freeze in place.

“You angry?” Stitch asks, for you refuse to give him the respect of an honorific any longer. He is loving the worry mixed with furry on your face.

“Let them go.” You try to sound imposing. You hope you do. Whenever you're about to kill someone, you play the innocent and sweet act, so they wouldn't see it coming. Intimidation is not your forte.

“Where you go?”

“We leave here. Go other world,” you begrudgingly answer.

“Me know where! You play! Fun!”

Your jaw clenches in annoyance. It’s getting harder and harder to think straight. This is bad. If you lose control now, you are going to kill both Stitch and Robin.

“Not play. Let human go.”

Focus, focus, focus. You can do it, you can get him out safe. You need to.

Stitch tilts his head, seemingly weighing his options. He must be entirely unaware of the fate awaiting him.

“You not play? You not fun. Me eat huma-”

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you raise your hand in his direction.

Go to hell. Go to hell. Go to hell.

Then you bring it down. All that is left of him is a pile of blood and guts.

Robin screams in terror and immediately backs into a wall. His pants are stained red, but he is unharmed. The horror on his face brings you back to reality.

“Robin, I had to do it. He would’ve killed you!”

“How did you do that?! He suddenly became minced meat. You didn't even touch him!” Now he's trembling.

You take a step towards him and he takes one back. The way he's looking at you has gone back to the way he looks at all the residents. You know why and yet, it still hurts.

“Please don’t do anything stupid. It's too dangerous to go on your own.”

For a moment, you think he's going to take off running. But slowly, he stops trembling and nods. Then he begins to walk the same way you'd been walking before Stitch showed up. You follow at a distance, head hung low and hand wrapped around your crowbar so tight that it stings.

You go the rest of the way in silence. He doesn’t start up anymore conversations and you don’t dare attempt it yourself. It’s not the first time someone’s condemned you for taking a life. But it’s the first time it has an effect on you.

And then you finally find the elevator.

It sits under an eerie green light, just like it did when you found it in the past.

“This is it. You can go home now.”

“Is this really the exit?” He steps towards it cautiously.

Before he's close enough to press one of the buttons, Robin turns around to face you. “I… thank you.”

He doesn't sound certain about his choice of words. Maybe he would've rather called you a monster.

“I hope you and your boyfriend are happy. Don't go wandering into anymore strange buildings.”

He nods, avoiding your eyes. Then he turns and, as the door opens, he says over his shoulder: “Goodbye.”

Just like that, he’s gone.

And you lose your mind.

[twistedfics]

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

Leona (twisted wonderland) x AFAB!reader (no pronouns mentioned) NSFW

2.3k+ words

~

hi! this story is 18+ and contains dark content. read at your own risk.

tags/warnings: ⚠️ non-con/dub-con, somno, biting, dacryphilia, breeding, possessive sex, mating, leona is in rut, licking, cum eating, kinda yandere ig?, leona is mean, maybe a bit ooc

~

summary: what if the night you stayed at savanaclaw went a little.... differently?

Leona had been acting strange. Or, at least, that’s what you thought. You couldn’t exactly say you knew the guy very well but something seemed off about him. 

But then again, maybe you were just majorly pissing him off. If you knew anything about him at all, it would probably be that he wouldn’t exactly want people (that he doesn’t seem to like, especially) all up in his business. And especially not in his bed. Whoops.

You’ll admit, it wasn’t the best arrangement, but given your current options, it was all you had. You had to stay somewhere right? It’s only temporary, you can live with him hating you for a night. 

Leona grumbled to himself, tail flinging around as you attempted to make yourself comfortable. He had thrown himself down in the middle of his bed in the midst of his little tantrum and you were forced to squeeze yourself into the bed the best you could. And as far away as you could manage. All those times you thought about Leona getting you into his bed, this wasn’t exactly what you had imagined.

“This is so fucking stupid. I should just throw you out and let you and that damn cat of yours find someone else to bother.” He spat in your direction, but you didn’t acknowledge it. Maybe if you just face the other way and pretend to sleep, he’ll calm down?

“You better not make a fucking sound tonight. If you wake me up, you’re dead, herbivore.” Guess not. 

You sighed and turned slightly in the bed, looking over your shoulder at him. You spoke softly, “Look, Leona. I’m sorry about this, really. but I really appreciate you letting us stay here. I’ll keep quiet, okay? You won’t even know I’m here.”

He didn’t look at you, but you heard a quiet “ugh” which you decided to take as a response. You knew you weren’t getting much more. 

“Goodnight, Leona,” you said as you turned back to face the wall, closing your eyes. You just needed some sleep, and then you’ll figure everything out in the morning.

~*~

You awoke to a room that was far too dark for it to be anywhere near morning. You felt hot. Way, way, way too hot. You attempted to move but found yourself constricted. What was going on? 

In your half-asleep state, you tried to kick away whatever it was that was holding you in place, and your heart nearly stopped when you were lucid enough to feel it. Something was pressed up against you from behind, holding your body against the mattress. Your eyes shot open when you felt something wet and hot against your neck. 

You tried to scream and were immediately silenced with a hand over your mouth. 

“Shh. I told you to be quiet.” A deep voice growled in your ear. Leona? That was definitely him. What in the seven was he doing?

“Leona, wha-” your voice was muffled, and he shushed you again. “You smell so good,” he mumbled, shifting against you. And that’s when you felt it. Something long and hard pressed against your ass. 

Panic shot through you as you began to struggle against him. You managed to turn yourself towards him before he got a hold of you again, removing his hand from your mouth in the process.

“Stop. Stop, Leona, please!” You cried trying desperately to pull yourself out of his grasp. This proved impossible, as he simply tightened his hold on you. It felt like he was trying to crush you to death.

“Maybe you should of thought of that earlier? You know, before you decided to invade my space all night.” He spoke low, way too casual for the situation you were in. His teeth pressed against your neck and you gasped.

This is apparently your fault to him??? You didn’t ask for this! You were only staying here out of necessity anyway. Sure he was hot, and you can’t lie that you haven’t thought of this before, but you never wanted it like this. Why now? Why you?! Violated just because a man can’t keep it in his pants? It’s sick!

Despite your constant struggling and protests though, Leona didn’t let up. His claws were digging into where he held you by your hips and you were sure your neck was probably bruised beyond belief. And to make matters worse, no amount of your crying was keeping him from pressing himself into your thigh. 

“Leona, please! You’re scaring me. Let me go right now!” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he maneuvered himself on top of you. One of his hands held your wrists together above your head, the rest of his body pinning you against the mattress. Tears were falling down your cheeks now, sobs getting stuck in your throat. You were no match for his strength. You couldn’t see yourself getting out of this alone.

“Do you ever shut up?” He growled, attacking your neck with his teeth again. His claws started to work at tearing your shirt apart and his hips not so subtly ground against your thigh. You tried to thrash around one last time, but the groan that came from him at your movements stopped you in your tracks. This was a nightmare.

“W-why are you doing this?” Your voice was shaking now, sobs being ripped from your throat at every nip of his teeth against it.

“I let you sleep here out of the kindness of my heart, didn’t I? I should at least get something out of it.” He had completed his task of ripping your top to shreds, and he slowly moved himself down your body, biting and sucking at your skin the whole way.

You whimpered when he reached your chest, licking at one of your nipples while his hand came up to pinch at the other one. He teased you for a while, switching between your tits, sucking and licking at your nipples while massaging the other one. 

You could feel him each time he ground himself against your thigh. He was so hard, and you could almost swear he was growing harder- if that was even possible. Pre-cum dripped from his tip and soaked the front of his pants, so much so that you could feel it, sticky on your exposed skin.

His free hand moved down to toy at the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched. He was really doing this. This was really happening. 

You tried to free your hands but found that he still had your wrists caught in an iron grasp. Tears were now pouring down your face, begging and pleading as you sobbed for him to stop, to just let you go. 

Why did this have to happen to you?

He came back up so he was level with you, his face just centimeters from yours. You searched his eyes for any kind of remorse at what he was doing, but there was nothing. His pupils were blown wide with lust as he smirked down at you.

His face moved closer towards you and you froze as you felt him lick at your face, wiping away your tears in the most disgusting way possible. You felt like you were going to vomit.

“You’re cute when you cry. Be a lot cuter if you were quiet though,” he whispered to you, nipping at your ear before moving back down your body. 

You had given up struggling, accepting your fate. You couldn’t get out of this. He was too strong, and there was no reasoning with him. Something was wrong. He wouldn’t listen, you knew that. 

You cried even harder as he finally ripped away the material of your shorts. You felt humiliated, left in just your panties as you cried and shook beneath him.

His hand slipped past your panties to toy with your cunt, and you watched in horror as he flashed you a predatory smile. 

His next words sent ice through your veins, “Would you look at that, herbivore? You’re soaked. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Freak.” He chuckled and you felt as if you weren’t even in your own body anymore.

Were you enjoying this? No! You can’t be. You’re scared out of your mind and you want it to stop. So why are you wet? Surely a natural reaction, right? There’s no way you could actually be into this kind of thing, right?

“Look at that pretty pussy. All f’ me.” While you were lost in thought, he had torn your underwear away completely. He spread you apart with two fingers, watching as your wetness dripped from your core between your thighs. You didn’t think you’ve ever been more embarrassed.

He pressed down harshly on your clit, closely watching your reaction as your whole body jerked. His stare had you pinned, you felt like prey being stalked. But the lion had already caught you. 

“I hope you’re ready, herbivore. I’m done waiting.” He let go of your wrists and swiftly flipped your body around. Your face was now pressed against the mattress, support from your arms taken from you as he once again pinned your wrists, this time holding them behind your back. 

With one hand he pulled your hips up, leaving you face down with your ass up, level with his hips as he kneeled behind you. He removed his hand for a moment, and you heard the rustling of clothes before you felt his hard cock pressing against your soaked entrance. 

His hand came back to grip your hip, claws digging in and leaving marks on your skin. Your body involuntarily tightened up as it anticipated what would come next.

Leona pushed his hips forward slowly, groaning softly as he forced the tip of his leaking cock into your little cunt. 

“If you don’t relax this is going to hurt a hell of a lot more than it would have,” he grunted and continued to press forward.

You whimpered as you tried to force yourself to relax, your body not wanting to welcome the intrusion. He was huge! It hurt like hell, but no matter what, he wasn’t stopping, and you cried out as his tip stretched you out more than you had ever felt before. 

“That’s it. Take it, you little brat.” You moaned as his cock continued to stretch you out, the feeling burning more with each inch that entered you.

After what felt like forever, he finally bottomed out. He sighed as his hips pressed against your ass and you took a deep breath to try and prepare for what came next. You could feel him inside of you, pressing against the walls of your pussy, hot and twitching.

Without warning he pulled back and quickly slammed his hips forward, pressing you hard against his bed. He gave you no time to adjust, starting out with a quick and brutal pace, abusing your pussy with each harsh thrust.

“Fuck! You’re so tight~ So perfect for me, herbivore.” He bent himself over you hammering his hips into you as he spoke into your ear. His words were interrupted by his own moans, matching the sounds you made as you cried and drooled into the pillows. 

He nipped and licked at the back of your neck, working his way over your shoulders as his cock hit that perfect spot inside of you. You gasped and felt him grin against your skin. You weren’t supposed to like this! So why did it feel so good?

“That feel good, huh?” He readjusted to continue hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, fucking you impossibly harder. He let go of your wrists to get a better grip on your waist and your hands fell limply to the bed. You moaned loudly, losing yourself to the feeling of his cock deep inside of you, letting yourself enjoy the moment. He bent his body over you once more, licking at the shell of your ear, making you shudder. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered to you, “Cum. For. Me.” 

Each word was punctuated with an insanely hard thrust, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your vision blacked and you screamed, falling completely limp in his arms as your orgasm hit you hard.

You tried to catch your breath, but Leona didn’t let up. He continued his harsh pace, fucking you into the mattress as he panted and moaned in your ear. The wet sounds of his hips slapping against your thighs echoed through the dark room. 

“Almost there, fuck!” he moaned loudly, his claws biting into your skin as he held you in a death grip. 

“Leona~ Leona, please, stop it hurts, please!” The sensation of overstimulation had you sobbing again, repeatedly chanting Leona’s name and begging for him to stop, to just give you a break.

“Shh, shh~ Shit! I'm almost there! Fuck, just a bit more baby,” He moaned directly in your ear, face pressed into the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fuck you full of my cum, everyone’s gonna know you’re all mine- fuck! My own personal little fuck toy. My mate.”

His words sent you over the edge again, screaming out his name as you clenched down on his cock. He followed right after you, biting down hard on your shoulder, breaking the skin as he pumped you full of his hot cum. You could feel it inside you, hot and sticky as it filled you up while he rode out his high. 

When his hips finally stuttered to a stop, he collapsed on top of you, trapping you beneath him. You were both a sweaty, panting mess and it was a while before he finally lifted himself off you.

He slowly pulled out, watching as his and your cum gushed from your cunt, staining the sheets below. Using his fingers, he scooped some up and pulled your head back by your hair, shoving it into your open, panting mouth.

You closed your lips around his fingers and sucked and he sat back to watch as you licked his hand clean. He removed his fingers with a pop, drying them off on the sheets before giving you a quick pat on the head.

“You'll be a good little mate.”

hi there! if you made it this far, thank you! sorry if this was a little rocky, it was my first time writing smut/dark content. i'm a little rusty with my writing >_< but i tried my best!

if you enjoyed this, please like and/or reblog! interaction is very much appreciated! <3

[universitypenguin]

Chapter 30

The Princess & the Lawyer

Summary: Princess makes slow progress in her recovery. Meanwhile, Lloyd’s hunt for answers leads him into a trap.

Word Count: 1,550

Warnings: Adult content, cannon level violence, coarse language, 18+ readers only. 

Masterlist 

Chapter 30: The Spy in Apartment Five

Lloyd’s footsteps echoed off the cement walls of the stairwell as he climbed toward Princess’ apartment. The cinder block walls smelled faintly of mildew, and the chill of the metal railing under his palm hinted at how sharply the temperature had dropped. Gale-force winds had eased into spitting snow, and for once, Lloyd found the snow preferable.

Three-quarters up the third flight of stairs, his phone buzzed. Pausing, he glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Phillip,” he said, wedging the phone against his ear.

“Hello, Mr. Hansen. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“It’s as good as any.”

“I’ve found the perfect item for you. It checks all your boxes—expensive, elegant, timeless. One of a kind. The pearls are perfectly matched, and the craftsmanship—”

“What did it appraise for?” Lloyd cut in.

“Just over $400,000.”

“And the value ten years ago?”

“It was last sold five years ago for $319,000. The craftsmanship is exquisite.” 

“I’ll take it. Have a courier bring it over around three.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps you’d like to see pictures. I can email them…”

“No. Just bill my account.” 

Lloyd ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket. He climbed the last steps, reaching the fourth floor. Moving quickly down the hall, he stopped at the fifth door on the right. Princess’ apartment.

He inserted his copy of the key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open with deliberate care. A faint mechanical click halted him. His breath caught and the familiar sound raised the hair on the back of his neck. Freezing, he peered through the narrow gap. A device sat perched on the edge of the foyer table, a fishing line running from its trigger to the door.

Lloyd’s gaze tracked the wire. A Claymore mine. A few more inches, and it would’ve been the end of him—and likely anyone within thirty meters.

He unhooked the wire from the door, keeping the tension steady, and eased inside. Wrapping the wire around his hands, he edged toward the mine, eyes glued to the pressure plate trigger. Finally, he was close enough to disengage the pins in the trigger device. After securing the wire and disarming the bomb, he rolled his shoulders out, breathing deeply as relief washed over him.

He crouched down and inspected the device. “M18 Claymore… half a pound of C4…” Lloyd shook his head. “Fucking over kill.” 

The destructive power would’ve leveled the room and thrown enough shrapnel into the surrounding apartments to kill any unfortunate occupants. Grimacing, he reassembled the trap exactly as he’d found it. The element of surprise mattered more than his personal distaste for the task and he promised himself that it was only a temporary measure.

Lloyd moved down the short hallway and stepped over a second tripwire, spotting another Claymore. “Asshole,” he grumbled, sneering at the booby trap. 

In the living room, he settled on the sofa. His eyes narrowed on a leather tote bag resting on the armchair. Princess’ work bag. The one missing since the car accident. On the coffee table, a file lay open. Lloyd leaned forward, reading the label. He scowled, sighed, rubbed his aching temples, and sat back to wait.

It didn’t take long.

The sound of the front door opening was followed by the quiet disarming of the first Claymore. Instead of coming down the hallway, the footsteps turned and went into the kitchen. Rustling takeout bags and the clang of a drawer signaled activity on the other side of the wall. 

Lloyd steepled his fingers and waited, staying perfectly still.

A man emerged from the kitchen holding a container of curry that smelled of fragrant spices. At the sight of Lloyd in the living room, he froze.

“Hello, Courtland.”

“Lloyd.”

“Nice setup with the Claymore. Overkill, but more contained than Prague.”

“Prague wasn’t me,” Court said, setting the box of curry on the coffee table.

“Cahill?”

Court nodded.

“Impressive.” Lloyd crossed his legs. “Go ahead, sit down. Your lunch is getting cold.”

“How did you find me?”

“Simple deduction. You needed a place to lay low, and Princess’ apartment was convenient.”

“How is she?”

“Awake. Mostly alert,” Lloyd said. “Her coordination and fine motor skills are off and her words don’t come easily, but she’s doing better.”

Court’s expression hardened, guilt flickering beneath the surface. Lloyd tried to enjoy it but found satisfaction elusive. He watched as Court took a few bites and then asked, “How much does she remember?”

“Bits and pieces. The doctors say that’s normal. Their long-term prognosis is optimistic, but it’ll take months of rehab to get her back to normal.”

Court studied him. “You don’t sound optimistic.”

“Looking at her now, it’s hard to see recovery as possible. It takes faith… more than I have.”

Court tilted his head. “You’ve never seen someone you love in pain before, have you?”

“No. Not like this.”

“Are you going to stick around for her? Or are you going to fall apart?”

“She doesn’t need me. I’ve done enough damage by dragging her into this.”

Court snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Mind your own business, Gentry.”

Lloyd’s gaze shifted to Princess’ notebook on the table. “You always rifle through women’s things when you trespass in their apartments?”

“I’m a spy. So were you.”

“Touché.”

Court picked up a water bottle. “She left it in your office. I brought it here to keep it out of evidence lockup.”

“Reading it was part of keeping it safe?”

Court smirked. “Hey, I solved my mystery. You’re still chasing your own tail.”

“Nguyen was officially charged this morning.”

“He’s not the guy.  You’re overlooking the hospital staff. Anyone who worked there between 1999 and 2002 should’ve been investigated. Especially after you identified Li Wei Chapman. Look for a connection to those first victims and the hospital employees in the right time frame and you’ll find your killer.” 

“You killed Tafferty, didn’t you?”

“If I hadn’t the NSA or China would’ve.”

“Interesting that your definition of solving a mystery includes committing a murder of your own,” Lloyd said. 

Court rolled his eyes. “If I hadn’t, you would have, and then you’d be cooling your heels in prison. I did you a favor. The least you could say is thank you.” 

Lloyd curled his lips over his teeth. Fixing his eyes on a point over Court’s right ear, he spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. “Thank you.”

“Mmhh. You’re welcome. Is that why you came here? To ask about Westin?”

“No. I’m here with a message. Don’t ever contact Princess again or it’ll be your corpse in an alley. You understand? Don’t drag her into your investigations or whatever little drama you kick up in the future. Stay very, very, far away from her. Forever. Are we clear?” 

Court nodded. “Yes.”

Lloyd stood up. He grabbed Princess’ bag and the file, shoved the folder into the bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

“Stay here if you must, but clean up before you go. Princess doesn’t need to know you were ever here. And she never finds out about the Claymore you rigged to her door. You know you could kill everyone in a thirty meter radius with that thing.”

“Unlikely. It only has half a pound of C4,” Court said.

Lloyd sighed. “Awesome. That’s just… wonderful. Make sure to lock up when you leave.”

Outside, snow flurries danced in the air as Lloyd headed to his car. Traffic was light and he made it back to Bishop & Howard in record time. He paced in his office, flipping through Princess’ notebook and comparing her notes to his own. There were plenty of clues, but the facts refused to align. At 2:57, a knock on the doorframe broke his focus. A courier handed him a velvet case. Lloyd opened it briefly, inspecting the necklace, and checked an item off his to-do list before filing the jewelry box away in his bottom desk drawer.

Court’s comment about the hospital staff lingered in his mind, refusing to let up. It felt like a long shot, but there were no other moves left on the board. Not with Shun Nguyen stuck in prison, refusing visits from investigators, and even from Peter Shaw. He wouldn’t give an account of his actions or offer up an alibi. It was like 2002 all over again. Lloyd set aside his pride and dialed Annabeth Greene’s number from memory.

“Dr. Greene’s office. Laura speaking.”

“Hello Laura. This is Lloyd Hansen. Can you pass along a message for me? I need a crosscheck for any link between Li Wei or Zoe Chapman and Forest View Hospital staff from 1998 to 2003. I’ve emailed Dr. Greene a list of names.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Hanging up, Lloyd swiveled his desk chair around to face the window. Snow was falling in steady sheets, though it was only the fourth of October. He watched the flurries dance in the air, and for the first time in weeks, his mind felt still. Answers were coming. They had to come because Lloyd was certain of one thing: Shun Nguyen had not kidnapped Laine Cruz. Whoever had done so was still out there, a free man.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Coming Soon - XXXI

Masterlist

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[dairyfreenugget]

(Alt text under read more)

Girl dinner <3

I haven't drawn them in so long I fell out of practice damn

The following description will contain mentions of adult content, violence and cannibalism so. Don't read if you're queasy about that

ID start: A digital doodle of the Hollow Knight from Hollow Knight as a human. They're covered in blood and grooming their right hand, looking bored. Their hair is down and white shirt unbuttoned. End ID.

So my friend and I came up with a scenario where a wyrm invaded Hallownest and managed to win against the Pale King, chased him and his root off and seized the throne. Straight up mauled Ebur and threatened Hornet too. But Flower, with no official connection to the royal family and lack of distinct wyrm scent that could have put a target on their back too, was spared. So, they acted smart about it, kept pretending to be the Pure Vessel and bid their time. Looking in the mirror, at their cape and their armour, they knew the vigilant new tyrant wouldn't let one of the old king's knights near him, but...maybe he would somebody else.

So Flower pulled out their best outfit, let down and messed up their hair, and headed to the wyrm's nest, intending to seduce him. It worked like a charm, really it was laughable how easily he let them completely bound him to the bed. And they had him where they wanted, completely helpless and at their mercy. And man did they have a lot of pent up rage to let go of. For what he did to their parents, what he threatened to do to their little sister, and for having to put up with his behaviour and cruelty towards Hallownestians and people they held dear for nearly a week - and a week too long.

They never knew rhemself to have a sadistic streak, up until that day. They damn near ripped the guy apart, blacking out in rage and letting their wyrm instincts take over, until they came to coated in his blood, his half-eaten entrails still hanging from their mouth. They shuddered and collected themself, glancing up at the wyrm's now empty eyes, then at the tyrant's blade leaned against the wall. They'd take his head off as a gruesome proof of the deed, and using the same weapon he used against their father felt almost poetic.

The five great knights and some of the prominent members of the political sphere, most notably Lurien, had already been planning on how to dethrone the new King. Lurien had met with the five to discuss these matters, when Flower approached them, still covered in blood, throwing the wyrm's head at their feet. Completely giving up on acting hollow, as a truly pure vessel wouldn't have the capability to pretend to be obedient to the new king only to strike at the right moment. And as this fact is dawning for the six, Flower is casually grooming themself to get the blood off and waiting for them to collect themselves so they can ask if anyone knows where their parents went.

They end up planning a search party, but in the meantime somebody needs to run the kingdom. And they all slowly look at Flower.

Flower: ...Why are you all staring at me? Stop looking at me- I'm not doing this—

Hegemol: Well, you did kill the guy

Lurien: And you're the only legitimate child of the crown

Flower: And I also have no idea how to run a kingdom

Lurien: I will be the crown's advisor as always, and it will be temporary

Flower: My life is stressful enough as is don't do this to me

Though whenever they do find the two and the shock of the situation passes, both their parents will be SO proud of them <3 White Lady for the method and thr manipulation required and Pale King for their brutality and cunning. Truly taking after their parents

[sassenach77yle]

7x10 “Brotherly Love”

THE NEW MEDICAL CHEST sat on the table in my room, gleaming softly in the candlelight. Beside it were the gauze bags of dried herbs I had bought during the morning, the fresh bottles of the tinctures I had brewed in the afternoon, much to Mrs. Figg’s displeasure at having her kitchen’s purity so perverted. Her slitted eyes said that she knew me for a rebel and thought me likely a witch; she’d retreated to the doorway of the cookhouse while I worked but wouldn’t leave altogether, instead keeping silent suspicious watch over me and my cauldron.A large decanter of plum brandy was keeping me company. Over the course of the last week, I had found that a glass of it at night would let me find surcease in sleep, at least for a little. It wasn’t working tonight. I heard the clock on the mantelpiece downstairs chime softly, once.I stooped to pick up a box of dried chamomile that had spilled, sweeping the scattered leaves carefully back into their container. A bottle of syrup of poppies had fallen over, too, lying on its side, the aromatic liquid oozing round the cork. I set it upright, wiped the golden droplets from its neck with my kerchief, blotted up the tiny puddle from the floor. A root, a stone, a leaf. One by one, I picked them up, set them straight, put them away, the accoutrements of my calling, the pieces of my destiny.The cool glass seemed somehow remote, the gleaming wood an illusion. Heart beating slowly, erratically, I put a hand flat on the box, trying to steady myself, to fix myself in space and time. It was becoming more difficult by the day.I remembered, with sudden, painful vividness, a day on the retreat from Ticonderoga. We had reached a village, found momentary refuge in a barn. I’d worked all day then, doing what could be done with no supplies, no medicines, no instruments, no bandages save what I made from the sweat-sodden, filthy clothes of the wounded. Feeling the world recede further and further as I worked, hearing my voice as though it belonged to someone else. Seeing the bodies under my hands, only bodies. Limbs. Wounds. Losing touch.Darkness fell. Someone came, pulled me to my feet, and sent me out of the barn, into the little tavern. It was crowded, overwhelmed with people. Someone—Ian?—said that Jamie had food for me outside.He was alone there, in the empty woodshed, dimly lit by a distant lantern.I’d stood in the doorway, swaying. Or perhaps it was the room that swayed.I could see my fingers dug into the wood of the doorjamb, nails gone white.

A movement in the dimness. He rose fast, seeing me, came toward me. What was his

“Jamie.”

I’d felt a distant sense of relief at finding his name.

He’d seized me, drawn me into the shed, and I wondered for an instant whether I was walking or whether he was carrying me; I heard the scrape of the dirt floor under my feet but didn’t feel my weight or the shift of it.He was talking to me, the sound of it soothing. It seemed a dreadful effort to distinguish words. I knew what he must be saying, though, and managed to say, “All right. Just… tired,” wondering even as I spoke them whether these sounds were words at all, let alone the right ones.“Will ye sleep, then, lass?” he’d said, worried eyes fixed on me. “Or can ye eat a bit first?” He let go of me, to reach for the bread, and I put out a hand to the wall to support myself, surprised to find it solid.The sense of cold numbness had returned.“Bed,” I said. My lips felt blue and bloodless. “With you. Right now.”He’d cupped my cheek, calloused palm warm on my skin. Big hand. Solid. Above all, solid.“Are ye sure, a nighean?” he’d said, a note of surprise in his voice. “Ye look as though—”I’d laid a hand on his arm, half fearing that it would go through his flesh.“Hard,” I’d whispered. “Bruise me.”My glass was empty, the decanter halfway full. I poured another and took hold of the glass carefully, not wanting to spill it, determined to find oblivion, no matter how temporary.

Could I separate entirely? I wondered.

Could my soul actually leave my body without my dying first?

Or had it done so already?...

95 NUMBNESS~An Echo in the Bone

[tuffwrap]

Custom vs. Standard Interior Protection Systems: A Cost Perspective

When it comes to safeguarding interiors from damage, wear, or environmental factors, protection systems play a pivotal role. From construction sites to commercial buildings and even residential spaces, these systems ensure that interiors remain pristine and functional. However, when deciding on an interior protection system, stakeholders often face a critical choice: opting for custom-designed solutions or going for standardised systems. Each approach has distinct cost implications, influencing both the initial investment and long-term financial outcomes.

This blog dives into the cost perspective of custom versus standard interior protection systems, helping you make an informed decision.

Understanding Custom and Standard Protection Systems

Custom Interior Protection Systems Custom systems are designed specifically for the unique requirements of a space. These solutions take into account factors such as room dimensions, layout complexities, usage patterns, and aesthetic preferences. Examples include tailored protective barriers, custom-fitted surface coverings, or bespoke ceiling and wall protectors.

Standard Interior Protection Systems Standard systems, on the other hand, are pre-designed solutions manufactured in standard sizes and formats. These are mass-produced, off-the-shelf products suitable for generic applications. Common examples include prefabricated dust barriers, reusable floor coverings, and modular wall panels.

Initial Cost Analysis

Custom Systems Custom systems often come with higher upfront costs. This is primarily due to the need for bespoke design, precise manufacturing, and tailored installation processes. Companies typically charge extra for on-site assessments and customisation services. Materials may also be specially sourced, further driving up costs.

Standard Systems Standard systems are generally more affordable at the outset. The economies of scale in mass production allow manufacturers to keep prices low. Installation is straightforward, reducing labor costs. For businesses or homeowners on a tight budget, this makes standard systems an attractive option.

Installation and Labor Costs

Custom Systems The installation of custom systems often requires skilled labor and longer timelines, which can escalate costs. Specialised technicians are needed to ensure a perfect fit and seamless integration. While this increases expenses, it also guarantees optimal performance and durability.

Standard Systems Standard systems are designed for quick and easy installation, often with minimal professional assistance. This reduces labor costs significantly. However, in cases where a perfect fit is required, additional adjustments may incur extra expenses, slightly offsetting the cost advantage.

Durability and Maintenance Costs

Custom Systems Custom systems, being specifically designed for the intended space and usage, are generally more durable and resistant to wear. This reduces maintenance and replacement costs over time. Furthermore, the precise fit minimises gaps or weak spots, providing better protection against damage.

Standard Systems While standard systems are cost-effective initially, they may not offer the same level of durability. Ill-fitting solutions can lead to frequent repairs or replacements, especially in high-traffic or heavily used areas. Over time, the cumulative maintenance costs can surpass the savings on initial purchase.

Long-Term Cost Implications

Custom Systems The higher initial investment in custom systems often pays off in the long term. These solutions are more likely to meet specific requirements effectively, reducing the need for modifications or upgrades. Additionally, their tailored design enhances the overall aesthetics of the space, potentially increasing property value.

Standard Systems Standard systems are ideal for short-term projects or situations where budget constraints are a priority. However, their generic nature might result in compromised performance, leading to higher costs down the line. For example, a standard floor covering might not adequately protect against heavy equipment, resulting in damage to the underlying surface.

Scalability and Flexibility

Custom Systems Custom systems are less scalable and flexible due to their tailored nature. Modifying or expanding these systems to accommodate new requirements often incurs additional costs. This can be a limitation in dynamic environments like growing businesses or frequently changing workspace.

Standard Systems Standard systems shine in terms of scalability and flexibility. Their modular design makes it easy to adapt, replace, or expand as needed. This is particularly advantageous in construction projects or businesses that require frequent reconfiguration.

Environmental Impact and Sustainability

Custom Systems Custom solutions can incorporate sustainable materials and practices, but the bespoke nature may result in material waste during manufacturing. However, their longer lifespan and reduced need for replacements often balance out the environmental impact over time.

Standard Systems Standard systems are typically made using cost-effective, mass-produced materials, which may not always be eco-friendly. The shorter lifespan and frequent replacements can contribute to higher environmental waste, making sustainability a concern.

When to Choose Custom Systems

Unique Needs: When the space has complex layouts or specialised requirements.

Aesthetic Priorities: When design and appearance are critical, such as in luxury or high-profile settings.

Long-Term Investment: When the focus is on durability and reducing future costs.

When to Choose Standard Systems

Budget Constraints: When minimising upfront costs is essential.

Short-Term Use: For temporary setups or projects with limited duration.

Scalability Needs: When flexibility and adaptability are key priorities.

Conclusion

Choosing between custom and standard interior protection systems boils down to your specific needs, budget, and long-term goals. Custom systems demand a higher initial investment but often prove cost-effective over time due to their durability and tailored fit. Conversely, standard systems offer affordability and convenience but may lead to higher cumulative costs in the long run.

By carefully evaluating your requirements and considering both immediate and future expenses, you can select the system that provides the best value for your investment. Whether you prioritise cost savings or superior protection, the right choice will safeguard your interiors effectively while aligning with your financial strategy.

[imawholeassmood]

What's in a Name

"Oh rao, I can't believe it." Kara works to contain her excitement as she nears the tiny shadowy figure stalking her in the unkempt grass outside her apartment. "This is really happening," she squeaks, "the cat distribution system has finally picked me."

The little void peers up at her with mischievous green eyes, it's backside wriggling with anticipation. Kara crouches and waits for the impending attack.

It comes with a burst of energy that burns hot and fast, then fizzles just as quickly as the black cat halts it's attack and stares at Kara with all the regret and panic of a teenage girl who just told her best friend she's in love with her. Not wanting to scare the cat, Kara hesitates, but the thought of this little cutie spending another minute on the streets compels her to scoop it into her arms and promptly rub her nose into its face.

"Right," she says and holds the cat at arms length, a quizzical gaze on its face. "Bath first."

***

Kara takes care to get the water temperature just right. Scratchy does not appreciate the effort. Claws scrape against her skin as Shadow fights against her, desperate to escape the soapy water. Kara hadn't actually found any fleas on Toothless during her physical exam to evaluate the cat's condition, and for that, she was grateful. She couldn't stand the idea of this baby being in any worse condition. A little prick digs into her finger and she mumbles, "ok, not Toothless."

She rinses the last of the suds and begins to wipe Bones with a towel. While the fight may have ended, Kara can't help but think it's a temporary reprieve, if the look on Merlin's face tells her anything. Those green eyes bite through her, clearly plotting revenge. Kara thinks it might be a good night for an all night movie marathon.

She wraps a dry towel around the still scowling cat and a tiny paw pokes out of the opening near its head, trapped like it got stuck mid escape. A disappointed huff let's out from the wet nose and Kara giggles at the adorableness.

"Here," she says," let me help you with that." She works to tuck the paw in the towel but not before dropping a kiss on the pink toe beans. "Beans," she tests the name. The cat throws a scowl at her. "Well if you have a name you prefer, feel free to share it."

The cat meows at her, and it draws a laugh from Kara whose whole body relaxes and swells with love. She drops a kiss on the furry forehead.

"I'll work on my pronunciation."

***

With Noodle cleaned and dried and now hiding under Kara's bed, licking herself to perfection, Kara works on preparing what amounts to a small buffet for each of them. She sets the takeout boxes on the table for herself and a plate of various wet and dry cat foods on the floor for Zephyr.

"Dinner's ready," she calls out, then wonders if she should take the plate to the bedroom instead. Building trust with cats sent by the universe can take time, and Kara's mind spirals with thoughts of what horrors Anubis might have endured while living on the streets. She's halfway to planning Calypso's catio to ease the transition from rugged outdoor cat to spoiled house cat when she spots the dark figure lurking along the wall. Kara freezes.

She debates her best course of action - does she offer her hand with a pspsps or do nothing? They stare at each other. After a moment where nothing happens, Kara averts her eyes, sending her gaze to the ceiling where she spots a spider in the corner. Great she thinks, let's hope Raven doesn't have an appetite for arachnids.

Kara's pulled from her thoughts by crunching near her feet. She sneaks a peak and sees Shuri ferociously air chomping a mouthful of dry food. A face-splitting grin splashes across her face.

After watching Potsticker test each of the offerings, finishing all but two samples, Kara once again attempts to build rapport.

"You don't have any allergies do you?"

Xena cocks her head and looks at her. Kara swears if this cat were human, there'd be a quirked brow to go along with that look.

"You're very expressive," she muses. "I wonder what you're thinking."

Unice meows at her, and Kara wishes she spoke cat.

***

She's struggling to stay focused on the movie with Ripley hiding away somewhere in her apartment. Kara hasn't seen the cat for hours and worries the progress she thought she made at dinner might have just been her hopeful imagination.

By the time breakfast rolls around, Kara's convinced Peony is plotting to kill her. Neither of them slept. Kara kept an eye out with her x-ray vision and noticed Nala spent the entire night exploring, poking and prodding with her pink-toed mitts at every window, door, latch, hatch, or moving part that might lead to a way out of the apartment. Every few hours, Jynx would check on Kara, looking almost annoyed to find her awake and looking back.

Kahlua's nowhere to be found when Kara's ready to head out to CatCo. She unlocks the door and calls out, "I'll be back soon, Calliope."

A flash of black streaks across the room and knocks into Kara's legs as soon as the door cracks open. Kara catches herself and stumbles into the hallway. Mittens is running around the hall, knocking into door after door. At the end of the hall, she stops in front of the elevator, looks it up and down, then turns back to Kara.

Little Yoda's ribs vibrate with heavy puffs and her eyes are wide. Kara approaches her slowly.

"It's ok, Izzy," she purrs. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Green eyes dart around. As if realizing there's nowhere to go, the fight leaves her.

"I know you're scared," Kara says, "this is a new place and we're still getting to know each other. But, if you'll give me a chance," she swallows, "I promise you will never again know a day without love."

The look on Dotty's face softens and it melts Kara's heart. The cat looks back at the elevator one more time before walking towards Kara. Grace, with all her regal elegance, brushes against Kara's ankle. It's the greatest moment of Kara's life.

***

"What is that?" Alex asks when Kara arrives at the DEO.

"This," Kara says, straightening herself and hooking her thumbs behind the shoulder straps at her chest, "is Griffin." The name is met with an immediate meow of objection. Kara looks down at the cat strapped to her chest then looks back up to Alex. "We're still deciding on a name."

***

It goes like that for a week with Kara toting the cat around with her. Bumblebee tries to run away at least once a day and continues to deny Kara's ideas for names. The day Dino curls up with Kara while an episode of Golden Girls plays on television is the day Kara thinks her heart might explode out of her chest.

With Athena's head buried in the crook of her neck, Kara strokes gently along her side.

"I love you, Tess," she breathes into black fur. A soft thrum purrs against her.

***

Kara enters the DEO panicked and sick with fear.

"She's gone, Alex," she manages to say through garbled, teary heaves. "I have to find her."

"Who?" Alex says and squeezes Kara's arms both to steady her and calm her.

"Ma'am's," Vasquez interrupts, "you might want to see this." She holds out a remote and turns on a television.

A news report shows an aerial view of a glass skyscraper with a large "L" emblazoned on the face. The ticker reads "Missing CEO found safe."

Before Alex or Kara can ask, a commotion stirs near the door. Agents scurry and someone yells, "you can't go in there."

Alex straightens herself to face the approaching party and sets a hand on her hip holster.

Kara wipes tears from her soaked cheeks.

A woman with alabaster skin, jet black hair, and deep red lips marches straight towards her. The tailored black suit commands the attention of every pair of eyes. Pale pink heels clack against the linoleum. Kara swallows the lump in her throat.

The woman stops inches before Kara, uncaring of the weapons pointed at her. Green eyes bore into Kara.

At long last, red lips curl into a smirk and a strong eyebrow quirks. She moves her head next to Kara's, so close Kara can feel the warmth of her breath against her ear when she purrs the words, "my name is Lena."

[rottenpumpkin13]

One of the Firsts gets a serious case of the hiccups - what do AGSZC try to get them to stop and what eventually works?

Sephiroth's been hiccuping for 4 hours straight. He maintains this is a temporary inconvenience that will resolve itself, but after the third meeting where his status report was punctuated by *hic* every 7 seconds, intervention becomes inevitable.

Genesis: "Banora White juice is the cure to everything", shows up with an antique wooden case containing seven precisely-aged dumbapple bottles, each labeled with increasingly specific lunar conditions. Proceeds to conduct what appears to be a juice tasting meets exorcism, complete with prayers to Minerva as he forcefully tips Sephiroth's head back and drains the bottles. Kunsel walked in on this, while Genesis chanted poetry. Immediately he filed a report about suspected cult activity on the SOLDIER floor. Also the juice didn't work.

Zack: Implements "Operation Startle", recruits a squadron of Third Class SOLDIERs to jump out at predetermined intervals. The resulting chaos from people who thought scaring a 6'7 man with a katana and ptsd was tactically sound ends with one broken nose, three broken walls, seventeen concussions, one fractured collar bone , and Sephiroth calmly filling out the incident reports between hiccups.

Angeal: "A SOLDIER must have control over every muscle, including the diaphragm." He insists Sephiroth meditate with him. Maintains a zen-like composure through the first twelve interrupted "oms" before his eye begins to twitch. By "om-HIC-om" number twenty-three, he snaps, spiraling into a full-blown nervous breakdown. Sephiroth's attempt to help = fanning Angeal with a clipboard while hiccuping "calm down—HIC—calm down—HIC" only makes Angeal hyperventilate harder, convinced he's about to ascend to the Lifestream.

Cloud: "In Nibelheim, spinning was the cure for hiccups. Worked every time!" He drags an office chair into the middle of the room and, with far more confidence than the situation warrants, gestures for Sephiroth to sit. Sephiroth reluctantly complies. Cloud grabs the back of the chair and starts spinning him "Any second now, they'll stop." Unfortunately, the only thing that stops is Sephiroth's trajectory, when the chair hits maximum velocity and careens straight into the wall. Sephiroth is on the floor, still hiccuping. Cloud panics and walks away.

What finally works: A memo arrives from Hojo expressing intense scientific interest in this "fascinating rhythmic respiratory phenomenon" and requesting Sephiroth report to the lab for "minimal invasive observation." The hiccups cease immediately out of self-preservation.

[hi-sierra]

Tortoise Storytime!

For most of his life, the scale burger lived in an enclosure that was about 7.5 square feet (~0.7 square meters). This is usually way too small- but he lived in a facility that always had someone on staff, letting him roam the floors while they worked on something nearby.

During covid, I worked at this reptile facility to replace workers who were higher risk and staying home. And I feel deeply in love with this lil bean of a tortoise. He was incredibly vibrant and friendly, was so habituated to humans that he didn't even have an instinct to retract into his shell, and was just flat out adorable.

A year after moving away for my PhD, my old boss reached out to me and asked if I could provide a good home to any of the animals. I instantly asked for this guy.

Unfortunately, I absolutely felt like I made a mistake for a while. I quickly realized that, as busy grad student that worked during the day, I couldn't be letting him roam outside of his small enclosure all the time. For the past year, I've been doing the best I can, experimenting with small enclosures, outdoor time, and floor time to best address his needs. But it always felt temporary and subpar.

As a Russian Tortoise, he has a partial hibernation cycle. For some weird reason, his is inverted with the actual seasons. So when he settled down in the late spring and started pseudohibernation, I could breathe easy for a bit. I left him with some caretakers over the summer, who didn't have much trouble with a sleeping tortoise, and went around having my adventures.

But I knew I wanted something nice waiting for him when he started being active again.

Introducing: the tortoise palace

I had several things in mind for a new enclosure. I wanted it to maximize space in my apartment, maximize my space in my apartment, and have somewhat easy teardown in case I have to move. So, I lifted my bed to be about 4 feet off the ground, and made the enclosure under it. The entire setup is in latched-together pieces that can easily be taken apart and set up again.

I've added climbing enrichment in the form of garden bricks, rocks, and multiple forms of substrate (orchid bark as the main, reptibark, coco coir, and rabbit pellets in deeper dig boxes) but I'll be adding more as time goes on. He's been loving climbing around and I can't wait to see what he'll do with other stuff.

It's an ongoing project, and there's a lot of "temporary solutions that are kinda-permanent" in here, but I'll be fixing those over time. Notably, the walls are pretty low- he can't get out, but I have to be cognizant of putting things he can climb on near the edges. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm all ears! But for now, here's the beast, his unfathomable power just barely contained.

Tiny bit of emotion under the cut.

I know this is dumb. But finishing this genuinely made me cry a little.

I've felt so bad about keeping this guy in what I know is a subpar environment for so long, and doing the best I could to keep him happy and healthy within it. But it was always barely keeping my head above the water.

And now, I finally feel like I have a good, permanent solution to it. This design, by definition, will fit in the space of a full sized bed in any place I live in the future. I feel like I finally provided something good for him. I know he's just a tortoise, but I really do love him, and I love seeing him happy and safe.

Idk. It's all rambles. But thanks for loving and appreciating the wonderful critter he is <3

[vonne-inc]

product: yandere boss - stolen shirt.

gender neutral reader. masturbation with clothing. typical pervert stuff. (a little bit of) yandere behavior.

the day was quiet— the only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. tick, tick, tick, tick. a small reminder, one all too evident, that you weren't around. not now, at least.

even if your absence was temporary, he couldn't stand it. the growing need to see you was growing, and it was becoming unbearable. the only thing that kept him under control was knowing when you'd be back.

his body grew tense, looking at the ticking clock. five hours, nine minutes, and fifty-three seconds. it was still too long... still too much.

"sir?" his eyes snapped to the voice, his dilated pupils contracting. heels clicked against the floor, and soon, a plastic bag was set on his desk, "your lunch." staring at the bag, a familiar logo stamped on it, he quietly hummed.

as quickly as the substitute assistant came, she left. he paid no mind, focusing on the food. pulling the take-out container, his fingers skillfully opened it as he wafted in the smell. it was nothing expensive, rather cheap from a nearby restaurant. although it was special; a dish you commonly ordered.

ah, right. you.

his eyes flickered back to the clock. five hours, three minutes, and thirty-one seconds. only six minutes passed, "fuck..." he mumbled, the itching feeling growing again. his skin tingled, brows narrowed, and shoulders tensed.

pushing aside his lunch, letting it touch the end of his desk. he pulled his desk drawer out; a black, clean chest is shown into view. with a diligent motion, he grabs the key from his pocket and opens it with eager hands.

a sigh leaves his lips, pupils dilating once more as he spots the items inside. clothing, candid photos, perfumes, etcetera. all of it being yours. things to keep him managing whenever you're not around.

picking up one of the shirts he'd collected, unzipping it from its ziploc bag, he carefully takes the cloth and inhales your smell. it smelt just like you; your natural musk mixed with perfume.

the more he breathed in, his pants tightened as it showed his evident arousal. his legs spread wider, cock twitching, as his mind began to wander.

what would you do if you found him like this? force him to his knees and degrade him as he shows you how sorry he is? worshipping your sex with his mouth as he pleas for forgiveness.

would you let him bend you over his desk, fucking you with primal need? him whispering each perverted fantasy he's had of you; his assistant. praising you as he rips an orgasm from you repeatedly.

without thinking about it, his hands drag down his buttons shirt and toward his black pants. working at his belt, it falls loose as he slides his pants down— enough to free his cock.

the tip red, leaking with precum already, he begins to trace the veins of his length. his head throws back, eyes snapping shut as he continues. the stolen shirt had fallen from his grasp and hung on his lap, the smell still reaching his senses.

he reaches for it again, grasping it in his hand, while bucking his hip into the fabric. the loud groan resounded throughout his office. the act of your clothing being wrapped around his cock was enough to get him a needy mess.

his hand begins to stroke the cloth along his shaft, meeting the tip as it soaked in the precum forming. hips bucking up, digits balling into a fist around himself, he couldn't resist fucking into the shirt.

all he could imagine was what you'd look like with his cock thrusting inside of you. the way your face would contort, how your moans and gasps would sound, how stunning you would look riding him with his cum soaking your stomach and chest.

at that thought, he could feel the coil tightening. his grunts grew louder, eyes rolling into his skull. his thrusts became more erratic whilst his office chair squeaked underneath him.

ropes of white shot from his slit, soaking into the shirt and coating the end of his desk. cum hit his clothes, and he choked back a sob at the relief.

once he calmed down, he stared at the shirt in his grip that was still wrapped around his cock. before he thought about another perverted fantasy and become hard, he grabbed the ziploc and secured it back into the chest as he closed the drawer.

and while those hours without you were still unbearable, all that surrounded his thoughts was how much he couldn't wait to leave his newfound gift at your doorstep. he just knows that you'll be surprised to see your favorite shirt covered in his cum.