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dexantnaomi-askblog · 16 hours ago

Note

Hi! I'd like platonic headcanons for at least 4 Forsaken characters (of your choice) with a killer!reader who's a bunny humanoid (think of characters like bugs bunny or oswald) who's super elegant yet incredibly ruthless in both their killing methods and general behavior on the field (mostly because I'm tired of the trope of 'uwu weak bwunny babi' in fanfiction. I want to see a rabbit kick ass and look good while doing it god damn it). Either fem or gender neutral.

Bunni reader, noice

Mafioso/Noli/Shedletsky/Chance x bunny!reader (she/her)

Mafioso

Instant first love at first sight, no exception

A bunny lover meets a bunny person? Instant dating, no question, just pure fluff

Loves the way you kill elegantly, makes him love you more

He has a pet bunny as well, often letting you play with him as he plays with your bunny ears

He aboslutly loves your attitude, makes you stand out for who you are

Sometimes he caught you sleeping with gubby mulitpul times, and he has photos of it too as proof

Loves showing you off, like letting you sit on his shoulders, holding your hands, anything that screams 'I'm with the hottest lady alive!!'

Expects head pats and kisses from him, hell even expect him tackling you to the bed and cuddle

Likes acting tough around you or during rounds when you are spectating him, even tho most of the time he acts all lovely around you

NOLI

Holy fuk shyt he got attached to you quickly

He thought you were one of the stereotypes 'uwu bunni' or some shyt but oh nahhhh you proved him wrong in every way

You should keep an eye out from this freaky brainrotted mf, he does get on your nerves sometimes but you've get used to his behaviour over time

Sleeps in the same bed, whenever if it's your cabin or his, you will always find him laying next to you, no matter what.

Does spectate you a lot just to see you kill like a fuking badass you are

He daydreams about you, like lots of time. You don't even know what's he's thinking about anymore

Even tho he's a jerk, he can be very sweet sometimes. Even tho you tried to convince him to take therapy

Overall a jerk, but a sweet one if you exclude him being a annoying ahh soundboard

SHEDLETSKY

Your relationship with Shedletsky was quite a surprising one, he didn’t realise you were a killer altogether even when Builderman saying you were a killer multiple time to him

Not sure how to react to you, but you can say he tried impressing you... Like lots of time

You're not sure to either tell him to get therapy and kill him or spare him during rounds

Speaking of that, you do often leave them for last since he somehow caught your interest

Whenever you're on LMS with him, he didn't take anything serious, even though he almost died like every time

You called him a 'fattie' or 'fatass' because you think he ate too many fried chicken/turkey

For some reason, you both go barefoot. Well at least you both have something in common.

You question his full name once... And you never did it ever again (For... Some reason)

CHANCE (He/They)

'Why did a gambling idiot get into forsaken?' You would think to yourself because he either the luckiest person alive or the unluckiest person alive during rounds

He's rich, yes. And yet he hasn't payyed off his debt yet, and you question his entire lifeline for it

Sometimes they tried teaching you about gambling but you like murdering them instead

They don't mind your bunny appearance at all, he thinks you're very cute

100% to stop gambling to play with your ears or pet you, even though you said no multiple times

You remind him of spade for some reason, that's why they like you

They often let you wear his fedora hats, because they think you look hot with it

You had told him multiple times to not overload the gun, and it resulted to him dead (And you facepalm Every. Time)

I'm gonna kil meself cus i have been doomscrolling instead of doing req im sorry anons ^^

#forsaken x reader #forsaken #forsaken roblox #roblox forsaken #forsaken x you #forsaken x y/n #mafioso x reader #mafioso forsaken #noli x reader #noli forsaken #shedletsky forsaken #shedletsky x reader #chance x reader #answerd ask!#^q^#answered

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scribbledswans · 5 months ago

Text

Bang.

Audio source: Spike (Cowboy Bebop)

Here you go chance lovers!!! here he is!!!

#soleil scribbles #forsaken art #homicidal porkchops #forsaken roblox #forsaken x reader #forsaken fanart #chance x reader #chance forsaken #chance fanart #animatic

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sourle · 2 days ago

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oMg..... We can get.... WR CAN GET.... CHANCE X GN KILLER READER WHOS SUPER FANCY AND... APATHETIC.....?!..... Dies

Um anyway *eats all your writing until it's all gone* Yummy! More waiter please! Yummy!

Emotionless

Everything is blue..

WARNINGS: minor blood, death.

Note: hey, who said an apathetic killer would be romantic. Nuh uh

Cling!

The coin landed in the palm of Chance's hand, showing the carved logo of Roblox. He let out a chuckle before flipping the coin once more up to the air, catching it mid fall and saw the big 'R' symbol.

He frowned, really wishing to get another head for a full charge. Even with that he didn't stop flipping his coin, each time landing on tail. He's not one to be easily frustrated but the ongoing tails he's getting beyond the record starting to get him.

When finally he got a head on the coin a hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him up the ground.

He yelped, letting go of the coin, letting it fall to the ground with a soft thud.

"..." With a silent stare from pure eyes, observing the little robloxian in your grasp.

Chance swallowed as he realized it was the killer. Without much thought, he quickly points his gun at you.

BANG

You stare as his bloody hands drop the broken gun. Shattered into pieces once it hit the dirty ground. It was almost comedic. Yet not a laugh could be muttered from your mouth.

Chance wince, shaking his hand from the burning pain. Lady luck really had left him but not without a smoother of health he has left.

He looked at the killer before him, catching the glimpse of their ivory eyes staring without a deep thought. Eyes full of nothing yet he felt a bit amused.

He can't explain it to anyone of himself, but those eyes have the same sight of refreshments.

"wait!" A quick yell with a motion from his hand to stop the very killer. You did stop but not at his wish, no. But you stopped out of curiosity.

"Let me flip my coin first! Head.. three times, you let me free. Tails and you can kill me! How does that sound?" He doesn't expect for their plan to work but nonetheless, it does work.

You slowly lower him to the ground yet without letting go of your grasp on his suit. Chance chuckled nervously as he fished out a new coin from his pocket.

He really wishes lady luck would be on his side right now. He flipped once, Head. Second, Head. Third, Head.

He cheered internally, kissing his coin from excitement of getting to live another round despite his low health.

Yet, the killer didn't let go.

"hey uhh... You can let go now.. i won.. the deal—"

"Deals you've made are a futile promise. Robloxian to another, we are nothing but foes in this twisted game."

He flinched at your voice, chuckling nervously as he tried to pull away.

"so-"

"So goodnight little gambler. As your display of circus acts give a slim of amusement."

The said gambler couldn't even respond nor move as a knife gives him a quick end. A sleep he woke up from in the cabin. Damn it, he really did lose.

End note: ok when i wrote this, i think of a scenario before they were really known each other, with the reader being a recently new killer. That's why it's.. not really romantic leaning

#lemon writes #ask #anon ask #soups ask #forsaken #x reader #forsaken x reader #chance #chance x reader #chance forsaken #forsaken chance #chance x reader forsaken #forsaken chance x reader

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st4r-th0ughts · 5 days ago

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You were the best but you were the worst,

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first.

Masterlist

Chance x childhood friend! reader (VERY slight ITrapped x reader)

art I made of this fic :3

I Love You, I'm Sorry (Gracie Abrams) ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 1:39

tw/cw: not proofread! pls someone tell me if chance can use he/him 💔 death, violence, swearing, angst, a lotta yearning, no happy ending, typical asshole ITrapped, Chance has a lot of issues, you do too but his are worse, IChance (toxic but Chance is the only one who doesn't realize it), ChanceNoob (Mildy implied but can be interpreted as friendship), unrequited feelings :(, doomed situationship my beloved

note(s): first writing for forsaken… I have a angst with Telamon coming up soon :3, also the aven pt.2 is on its way I promise I just need a tear jerking plotline

summary: You fell first, he fell harder, but far too late.

(word count: 3.4k )

ׂ╰┈➤ [𓏵]- your name

Chance has terrible habits.

It was in the little things. How they got a bit too excited about any game regarding high-stakes and gambling. How they managed to land himself in a entanglement with the mafia before being forsakened. How they would for some reason, keep overloading his gunpowder, brushing off concerns for the thrill of the game.

You used to think it was rather endearing. A personality quirk of his that you also found entertaining. When you both were younger, when your parents allowed rare times without supervision, they'd drag you to the large oak tree on the outskirts of the city, and they'd bet with you how far they could climb.

Sometimes, they'd beat their last record, triumphantly sitting on the branch while they smiled at your laughter at the sticks and leaves stuck in their hair. And other times, they'd fall hard, pretend to cry, you'd fall for it again, and it always earned them words of comfort and reassurance.

Every attempt, successful or not, the night ended with you both lying between flowers against a grassy hill, gazing at the stars while you both asked stupid questions and giggled hysterically at the answers. A tradition that slowly faded until you both couldn't find the time for it anymore.

Chance was a constant presence in your life. When you both gradutated high school, they were there, cheering the loudest as you were handed your diploma. He hugged you tightest when you were accepted into music school to pursue a career as a violinist. They were the first to introduce you to his rabbit named Spade.

They were the constant joy in your life. And for a while, you thought yourself to be theirs too.

When Chance crossed the Sonnellino Family, and had been under their wrath, he had begged you to let him hide with you, and you had let him. You turned away the goons, knowing if they decided to not heed your words and found Chance, you would have suffered too.

But you let him stay in a heartbeat. Your heart beat faster everytime he cried and made dramatic but genuine thank-yous, hugging you tightly and promising he'd make it up to you. You felt your heart flush and heat whenever you saw him in the hallways, casual and not the confident persona he let the world think he was.

You hadn't seen his eyes for a while. It had been many years since you were both children and he always gazed at you with that cheerful look, but one night, he took off his shades when you were both watching television on the couch, curtains drawn and Spade loafing between your bodies.

A breathtaking golden. Like the metal, it was precious and mesmerizing. You had found yourself staring, heart pounding in your chest and head, gazing in eyes that resembled the gentle shine of the dawn's light.

You had looked away before Chance turned his to you. You heard him shift, just slightly closer to you, petting Spade as he cooed at the fat rabbit that simply stared back with wide eyes that held no thoughts in its head. You're not sure if he noticed your stare or the way your face grew warm, and definitely pink.

You thought you almost had it all. All you needed to do was to find the perfect time to tell him how you felt, and pray to Lady Luck that he reciprocated.

But then he came along. ITrapped. He had Chance enamoured at first sight. You didn't know what your best friend saw in that censored face, with that obnoxiously large ice crown, but you supported them awyways. Cheering them on with all you had.

But there was a sense of sorrow that consumed your soul. Bit by bit. It ate you up, slowly, excruciatingly so, like how the shadows swallowed the sun's rays before night, till there was not a trace of day left.

You brushed it aside carelessly, afterall, you were Chance's best friend, right? You should be happy. You should not be feeling like this. This fiery pit of anguish that clawed away at your heart bit by bit, it was irrational.

Until it wasn't.

ITrapped didn't love Chance, it wasn't fully obvious, the man was a master manipulator. He pretended he did excellently, but the way ITrapped looked at money said differently.

Not like how you could love them.

ITrapped isolated Chance slowly. From his parents. From you. From himself. The man's silver tongue knew just where to strike, what to say that left Chance fawning over his supposed romantic advances.

You could say many things about him, and none are good. he asked for money more than he asked Chance out on dates, he alaways subtly forced them to participate in life-threathening games. You'd play the violin, entertaining the casino's members who appreciated your talent, and you struggled to not make the strings screech when the gun against Chance's head drew a blank.

You always anticipated something could, would, go wrong. Chance was lucky, but they were foolish and naive in matters of the heart to accompany with that. Their luck would run out, and they may not live to see the next day.

So you settled for protecting them. Silently, from the sidelines. Even when ITrapped's words sowed seeds of doubt in Chance's mind about you, and though you both grew apart, both of you wandering in that limbo between strangers and friends, while you watched him get swept off his feet by someone whom you knew didn't, and would never love them.

Because you had loved Chance. Because your world centres and revolves around them, you'd protect that world with your heart and soul.

And ITrapped knew that.

And that fateful night, it was used against you. He cornered you in the alleyway right behind the casino while Chance was too busy gambling in it, ITrapped's facade immediately dropped as your back pressed against the cold wall of stone, no route of escape.

"You know, [𓏵], I'm surprised you still stick around them. They obviously don't appreciate your presence enough, and yet, you act like a desperate puppy, begging for scraps."

You didn't respond to his mocking statement. He was right. ITrapped, as infuriating as he was, he was a logical and calculating, a core reason why Chance had drifted from you. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction from confirming he was correct.

"You know what my true intentions are, do you not? It was so obvious you did. And yet…"

ITrapped's breath was too close. Body almost pressed against yours. His left hand finding your chin and gripping it tightly, fingernails pressing painfully into your skin. His smirk was predatory, his eyes, behind that black censor bar, boring into your soul.

"You didn't tell your 'best friend' my intentions."

"Because he would not have believed you."

The words, the statement, was icy cold, like a predator's bite savouring prey between it's teeth before chomping down, sending a shiver through your body.

You were furious. Rage, boiling hot, scalding as it bubbled in your gut, screaming to be released, your hands shook as your struggled to not break your bow and the handle of your violin in your bleached knuckle fists.

It wasn't that you were mad he was wrong.

You were mad he was right.

Because Chance wouldn't believe you.

Not over him. That's what he wanted to say, but he was waiting for your agreement. But your silence was enough of a response.

You don't remember much of what happened afterwards. Only Itrapped's smile, cunning and vicious, a sharp pain as a knife dug into your chest, the feeling of the cold ground as you watched him stomp and break your violin bow in half as blood pooled under you, spilling from your mouth, crimson and dark.

"Pitiful.”

His voice was cold, tinged with a slight edge of disgust as silence filled your ears, your vision blurring at the edges from something hot and burning as black swallowed your consciousness whole.

You died that night, alone and cold, with resentment and despair stewing within every fibre of your being, wondering if Chance would forget about you, like a fading flicker of a spark in the night.

You had accepted you were never going to see Chance again. Never hear him laugh at your voice going horribly out of tune, never see his stupid, stupid smile as he tried to cheer you up after a rough night, never feel his warmth when you hugged him.

Running from a killer out with the sole goal to crush you and other survivors, respawning when you were killed, unable to die. That would be your life in eternal hell. Laying in your cabin, alone, and staring at the wooden ceiling and beams, wondering how your parents, your friends, Chance, were doing without you.

Your parents would be devastated. They doted and showered you with affection, and had encouraged your musical dreams despite their dreams of you pursing law or medicine. Your friends would grieve, join your parents at your funeral, and move on, some slow, some fast.

But Chance. He must have forgotten you. ITrapped must be sowing deeper seeds of negativity and doubt in their head. Reminiscing and reflecting back, before he started to mix with the wrong crowd just to get away from his parents' nagging, you two were already drifting apart.

Your friendship would have fallen apart sooner or later. Your feelings would be left unreturned, and you probably would have died of a broken heart rather than a knife.

Until one day, when Guest was talking to you about life before entering this eternal hell, you saw him.

Chance.

Stumbling backwards, arms raised like he was trying to protect himself from something, looking bewildered as he took in the sight of the large wood cabin that was the main base of operations for you and your fellow survivors.

His hug was as warm and bold as you remembered it to be when he locked eyes with you and practically jumped into your arms. He was shaking slightly, his embrace was one tinged with desperation as he whispered your name repeatedly, relief seeping into his voice that repeated like a prayer, a thanks to the gods above.

You could have sworn there were tears in their eyes, but his shades prevented you from telling properly.

The hours before the round was spent with him getting to know the other survivors while glued at your side almost all the time. he quickly returned to his confident and suave personality, slinging a arm around your neck and acting like nothing had happened.

Like you two were still as close as ever.

You had been joyful, as relived as he was when you had laid your eyes on him, and for a while, you remembered the same person you had fallen head first for. But there was a ugly feeling that brewed in your chest when he kept acting like nothing was wrong.

Resentment. Bitter and sour at once, squeezing your heart, reminding you why you were in this hell to begin with. You had given your heart to the wholeheartedly, and when he gave his to another, Itrapped used your affection to his advantage and killed you for it.

Even during rounds, his habits of gambling return. You use your violin to aid your friends in higher speed and strength, but he uses their coin, the same godforsaken coin you had gifted him on his birthday when he inherited the casino from his parents. He's died from a single more times than you can count, because his flips are mostly unsuccessful.

Seeing his lifeless form fall into your arms the first time had unlocked levels of grief you didn't know you could feel. The overwhelming fear and despair that made you freeze allowed the green and black being called 1×1×1×1 to take your head.

You knew he was still alive back in the lobby. It was how it worked for everyone else, so why would it be different for him? You simply just… could not get over that the very fact he was in here, in this hellhole, essentially meant your hopes were false, and your fears had come true.

When you both died first in the round, he had told you what had happened to him back in the overworld.

ITrapped had definitely killed them. But Chnace was in denial about it, trying to pacify your anger that flared up by attempting to convince you it wasn't his fault, which only served to make you even more furious, though you restrained yourself from exploding.

But worst of all, it was how he seemed to latch onto Noob.

The timidest adult amongst all of you, one who bore far too many similarities with Itrapped that it was them took the longest for you to warm up to.

Chance, on the other hand, became their closest friend amongst everyone else. It wasnt the fact you were jealous of their friendship which was why you were upset.

You had heard him slip up and call Noob by his name. The gambler immediately caught their mistake, but you knew better than to think this just so happened to be a slip of the tongue.

You couldnt understand it.

ITrapped had killed him. Murdered him. Used the Darkheart to stab him and left his cold body to rot. ITrapped had used, manipulated your best friend for his money and his casino, and Chance knew that too well.

But he was still attached. Still fucking attached to someone that looked at Chance like they were the scum of the earth, while brushing over the person who would gaze at them like they hung the moon.

You were not frustrated with Noob. They didn't do anything. Just so happened to share the same colours as ITrapped, and was too kind and hesitant to tell Chance to stop referring to someone that doesn't deserve to have his name leave their mouth.

You despised ITrapped, for still haunting you, your choices, what you could have done, what you should have done. Even in death, even in literal hell, ITrapped would take priority over you in Chance’s heart.

And that resentment boiled over.

You don't even remember how you ended up snapping, grabbing Chance's arm and dragging him away from Noob after he called them that stupid name again, ignoring concerned looks from the other survivors and his nervous protests, still keeping a smile on his face.

"Heyy, bud, what's got you so mad-"

"Shut up."

Your voice silences Chance immediately. You didn't even recognize your own words leaving your lips, you had to take a few seconds to continue, the words vomiting and spilling out of your gut furiously as your grip shifts from their arm to his collar.

"I see the way you look at Noob. You think them to be ITrapped, don't you? And they had let you, because they know that rejecting your delusions will break you."

"But I'm not Noob. You should know me as anything but a sugar coater. And if it means you will hate me, so be it. ITrapped never loved you, and he never will. You craved genuine companionship so much you ignored every slip up, every misdeed, so you wouldn't lose him."

"He ruined our friendship to a almost irreperable level that if we never died, you would have forgotten about me, and even now, he still lives in your heart and mind, as a affectionate memory."

Your voice almost cracked when you had mentioned your friendship, and Chance noticed, his stunned expression staying frozen as his shades masked his eyes. Was he angry? Was he indifferent? Was he even upset? The fact he wouldn't react to your words made you even angrier as your grip tightned around his collar, almost slamming him into the wall.

"Why is that it is him that gets that treatment? Why does the man who backstabbed and used you matter more than the person standing in front of you, who kept you safe from the mafia, who comforted you through every heartbreak, everytime you ranted to me about your overbearing parents?"

You hated using the times he had been vulnerable with you as leverage, but your mouth and heart worked faster than your mind, and before you could stop yourself, you cracked completely, with Chnace's expression finally morphing into one of horror and what seemed to be remorse.

"Would you even believe me if I said ITrapped was the one who murdered me?"

"Did you even care that I died?”

Chance wanted to scream. His hands trembled slightly as your grip on his collar slackened. He did care. He cared. He had thought about you in his last moments, wondering if he'll see you again in the afterlife.

Why didn't you tell him you felt this way? He was your best friend, right? Why did you think he didnt care? Why did you not tell him sooner that ITrapped was the one who murdered you? The same man who comforted them when Chance broke down over your long cold and paled corpse in a bodybag, your parents wailing for their child not too far from him.

He hadn't cried when your face appeared on the news with the headlines of murder. He had grieved. He had mourned, he weeped and he had completely broke into what he felt was a hundred pieces. He kept your violin and broken bow, your parents having given it to him at your funeral, telling Chance you would have wanted them to have it.

He kept it. Beside his bed, untouched, the bow still in that broken state the police had found it in, still in the state that ITrapped had snapped and crushed with his shoe. The violin, it's pristine colours dulling from the lack of care. You always took care of your instrument, Chance couldn't bear to bring himself to clean it for you in your place, not when he was still thinking you'd waltz into his living room, telling him it was all a joke.

"He plunged that knife into my heart, mocked me as he watched the life drain out of my eyes and broke my violin bow in half. Why— can you still bring yourself to love someone as repulsive as him?"

"And I could say nothing to defend myself in my final moments. Because he knew my greatest weakness was you."

Chance watched you break, watched your grip loosen till there was no force left holding them to the wall, sliding down into a sitting position as he watched you tower over him, turning your back to them.

Chance always knew you as strong. You'd let them lean on you for comfotr, more times than he could ever count. But he had never once stopped to consider whether you had a shoulder to cry on, a ear to listen to menial complaints.

He thought he was, and you were just stubborn, too prideful to admit you needed someone to listen to you. But they knew better than to think that. You both had grown apart. Chance knew they made minimal effort to try and rebuild it back, letting the trickle of time wear your bond down.

And they were foolish enough to think that your presence would be forever.

Your breath was ragged as your heart pounds in your head, each thump echoing violently, drowning out eveyr other sound. You don't register how Chance scrambled to their feet, rushed and desperate apologies flowing out of his mouth while the other survivors gaze at you both with worried looks behind the frame of the door.

"I am done, clinging onto you so dearly to my heart, Chance. If you want to love ITrapped despite his betrayal, so be it."

"But I will never let you hold onto me again."

Chance's sputters of apologies, whether genuine or just emotional from being in the moment all die down at the finality in your tone, his hand slipping from your arm limply as you leave him behind, storming past the other survivors with a sour look, trudging to your cabin outside the main base.

The bed is cold and stiff, but it's a comfort from the raging storm of emotions that swirl and brew violently in every fibre of your being. Hot tears sting your eyes as you pull the pillow over your face, still refusing to let them fall.

This hell that you are forsakened into is unbearable. But heartbreak may as well be worse than eternal damnation.

fin.

#ᯓ★ sfw!#chance forsaken #chance x reader #chance x itrapped #chance x you #forsaken #forsaken x reader #forsaken x you #forsaken x y/n #forsaken chance #chance x noob #forsaken angst #itrapped x chance #itrapped x reader #forsaken chance x reader #chance forsaken x reader

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meisaroace · 13 days ago

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Hi guys, so uhh...I'm back from death 🥰

________

Anyways...HEAR.ME.OUT...

-So we all know that two of the Mafioso's Voiceline said something about "Lady Luck", and also know that Lady Luck it ain't a real one and just maybe made up to mock Chance when Mafioso kill him.

-So I started to like...Idkkk Y/N became Lady Luck??? I love this idea!

(Don't judge me please 🙏)

Thank you for listening my hear me out! Have my design of Lady Luck!Y/N x Chance, I can't believe I made SOOOO perfect for Chance, it is the best I have draw Chance ever👏👏

#forsaken x reader #chance x reader #there's no any hashtag anyway so it ain't that much💔

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cultistliker · 14 hours ago

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HALLOOOOOO !!!!!! can u do chance or mafioso (both if you'd like... heh.) x y/n? TAKE UR TIME AND REST PROPERLY!!! :3

UGYAH. UGYAAAAHGHJKGH I GOT REQUESTED BY THE RINISTER !!!!!! EVERYBODY LOOK NOW!!!!!! sorry i scrumpt when i first saw this request ANDDDD I AM SO HAPPY KYAAA I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WANTED TO REQUEST ME TOO I LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH I REALLY REAAALLY HOPE I WAS ABLE TO MAKE A CUTE PIECE WITH CHANCE AND MAFIOSO FOR YOU!!! hehehehe. Hehe. i'm really happy THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REQUEST!! 😭😭😭🫶

something something. Bnuuy. i like bunnies so im gonna incorporate it cause It's Very Very Important. both of them love bnuuy. Therefore. chance making yn bunny is really funny in my head actually HAHAHHWAGWH

i hope i didn't botch their characters... Kya... praying.... AGAIN AGAIN UWAAA STHANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REQUEST!! I'M HONORED TO BE THE ONE TO BE REQUESTED WAAAA (chance scratching under your chin and mafioso going patpat are both very important details to me)

#forsaken x reader #sal's selfship art #chance forsaken #mafioso forsaken #chance x reader #chance forsaken x reader #mafioso x reader #mafioso forsaken x reader #bnuuy . Bnuuy #forsaken fanart #forsaken roblox

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puddingmoss · 4 days ago

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Tied Odds (Chance x Top!Male!Reader)

cw: smut, degradation, overstim, bondage (all chance receiving lol)

“Shit—shit—fuck, fuck—!” Chance gasped, bolting between trees, his tie flapping wildly as he dove through brush and over ruined fence posts. Behind him, John Doe closed in fast.

“Come on, come on—someone, fucking help—!”

He rounded a corner,

and slammed directly into you.

You didn’t waste words. Your blade was already out.

John appeared around the corner just seconds later, But you stunned him before he got the chance to do anything.

You grabbed Chance's arm and ran off, hiding so you can heal Chance.

Chance let out a ragged laugh behind you. “Holy shit, you—you actually showed up again. I thought for sure that when my gun blew up i'd get ripped to shreds—”

"Be quiet.”

He blinked. “Wh—”

"We need to have a talk when the round is over."

—

The door slammed behind you.

Chance was still panting, suit jacket torn, shades crooked, a scratch on his cheek. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to thank you in some smug, stupid way.

You cut him off with a shove against the wall.

“Do you ever think?” you snapped, your voice low and sharp.

He blinked at you, breathless, wide-eyed, but smirking. “I mean, yeah. I think about how good I look running—”

You grabbed his tie and yanked him forward.

“You almost died. Again.”

Chance made a noise between a laugh and a whimper as you forced him back against the nearest wooden pillar. “Yeah, but you came for me,” he said, voice softening. “You always do.”

You pulled the tie tighter, wrapping it around his wrists. “And maybe I shouldn’t.”

“But you did.”

Your patience snapped.

In less than a minute, he was on his knees, hands bound behind his back with his own tie, pants yanked halfway down his thighs. You shoved him onto his stomach across the couch, the cabin dimly lit by the flickering lantern overhead.

“I’ve had it with you.”

“You’ve had it in me—”

CRACK.

The first slap echoed off the walls, sharp against his bare ass.

Chance moaned.

“You’re unbelievable,” you growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back. “I risk my life saving yours and this is how you act?”

Another smack. Then another. The skin turned red beneath your hand.

“You like playing the dumb slut, huh?” you hissed, voice low in his ear. “Being reckless and stupid until someone stronger has to come drag your ass out.”

He groaned, cock twitching between his thighs. “Mnh—fuck—maybe I like being saved—”

You grabbed his hips and rammed in.

He screamed, head lolling forward as your cock pushed in deep all at once, stretching him wide and fast. His hole fluttered around the intrusion, slick from earlier teasing, already clenching.

“Oh—fuck—!”

“Quiet,” you snapped, hand curling around his throat and dragging him up into a half-arch as you buried yourself to the hilt.

He gasped, eyes rolling. “Nnh—ah, fuck, you’re pissed—!”

“Damn right I am.”

You started thrusting, slow and punishing, grinding deep with every movement. Each slap of your hips echoed loud against his skin.

“Every round,” you growled, “I’m the one pulling you out of the fire. Every round you flirt with death like it’s a fucking game.”

Chance let out a broken moan, trying to push back against you , gis usual cocky attitude cracking under the pace.

“Keep your hips still,” you snapped. “You don’t get to fuck yourself on my cock. You earn it.”

He whimpered, thighs trembling.

“Dumb little slut,” you snarled, voice thick with heat. “I should leave you leaking on the floor next time. Maybe then you’d think twice.”

You wrapped your hand back around their throat and began to fuck them in earnest, deep, brutal strokes that left tjeir mouth hanging open, eyes glazed, body jolting with every thrust.

“You want to be filled, don’t you?” you hissed, leaning over his back, pressing him into the cushions. “You want me to fuck you stupid.”

“F-Fuck—!”

“You wanna be a cocksleeve? Fine. That’s all you’re getting to be tonight.”

He came without warning, untouched, spilling hot and fast onto the couch as you kept fucking him straight through it.

Their whole body spasmed,v and still, you didn’t stop.

“You’re not done,” you growled. “Not until I say so.”

His ass was red, his wrists were raw, and his voice was nearly gone. But you were still going.

“F-Fuck—please—” They gasped, no longer smug, barely coherent. “Breed me, come on, fuck—please—!”

You groaned, hips slamming in hard and deep, until your cock twitched violently and you came, flooding him in thick waves, moaning low into the back of his neck as you held him there, stuffed full and trembling.

He collapsed, cum already dripping down his thighs, face red and hair soaked in sweat.

You pulled out slowly, watching the mess ooze from his wrecked hole.

Chance was limp across the cushions, panting like he’d just run miles

He wished he had, Because this was so much worse.

His wrists were still bound behind his back, his ass slick with cum, flushed and swollen from the punishing pace you’d just given him. The couch creaked beneath his weight with every little shift, and his thighs were trembling, sticky and sore.

But you weren’t done.

You grabbed him by the hips and pulled him up again.

“Nnh—w-wait—fuck, I—I already—”

“I didn’t say you could come,” you said flatly, stepping between his legs again. "And you did anyway."

You dragged the blunt head of your cock along the curve of his ass, watching him twitch at the sensation, already overstimulated and leaking again.

Chance let out a pathetic little moan.

“You want it again?” you asked coolly, pressing your cock against his stretched, fluttering hole. “Or are you gonna act like a good boy this time?”

“F-Fuck—please—” he whimpered, hips twitching back toward you on instinct. “I’ll be good—come on—”

“You’ve never been good,” you muttered.

Then you shoved back inside. Hard.

Chance screamed, voice cracking into a high, desperate sound. His body jolted forward from the force of the thrust, forehead hitting the back of the couch. He couldn’t even think straight, not with your cock filling him again, dragging along the raw, sensitive walls that had already been abused once tonight.

“F-Fuck—fuck, please—please just—let me come—”

“You don’t get to ask,” you growled, setting a brutal rhythm. “You come when I say.”

His cock, flushed and dripping, bounced uselessly beneath him with every thrust. You didn’t touch it. Wouldn’t let him touch it. It throbbed helplessly, leaking precum all over the cushion.

Every time you angled your hips just right, Chance let out another broken moan, hips twitching violently. He was so close already, you could feel it. The way he clenched, the way his thighs shook, how he tried to push back even as his legs buckled. He was desperate.

“You don’t deserve to come,” you hissed in his ear. “Not after the stunt you pulled tonight. Using that unreliable gun, having it blow up in your face, again? Putting me at risk, again? You’re a fucking burden, Chance.”

“I-I—nhhh—!” he cried out, biting his lip, face scrunched in shame and pleasure.

You grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.

“You’re a pretty little liability,” you snarled, “and this cock is the only reason I keep dragging your sorry ass out of danger.”

Chance whimpered. His cock twitched violently.

“I bet it hurts,” you mocked, voice low and cruel. “So full. So hard. All that cum right there, just waiting. But you’re not allowed.”

“Nnh—n-no—please, please—”

“No.”

You slapped his ass again, watching it jiggle around your cock.

Then, without warning, you stopped.

Pulled out.

Grabbed his leaking cock in your hand and held it tight at the base.

Chance screamed, a hoarse, choking sob bursting out of him as you denied him the release he was so close to.

“No—!” he sobbed, writhing in the restraints. “P-Please—fuck—! Let me come—please—I’ll do anything—”

“You are doing anything,” you sneered. “You’re letting me ruin you, just like I always do.”

You began thrusting again, shallow, teasing thrusts against his hole while your hand gripped his cock, keeping him right on the edge. He was moaning, crying, squirming like a bitch in heat.

“No—mmngh—fuck—please—!”

“You gonna behave next time?” you asked, voice flat.

“Y-Yes—!”

“You gonna listen to me when I tell you to stay close?”

“Y-Yeah, yes—! Please let me come—fuck—!”

You pulled his head back and shoved your fingers into his mouth, gagging him on them.

“Not yet.”

You kept him there, twitching, moaning, crying around your fingers, cock aching and full, for what felt like forever.

Only when he was shaking, eyes glassy, drooling like a broken toy, did you finally let go.

“Come.”

He did. It was messy, spurting across the couch in thick, hot ropes, his body convulsing as he sobbed out your name, hips grinding down for more even as he came untouched in your hand.

But you didn’t stop.

Not even close.

His whole body jerked as your grip tightened again around his cock, too sensitive, too raw. Chance let out a scream that cracked into a sob, his thighs quivering beneath your hands as his freshly-fucked hole twitched, leaking your load thickly down his thighs.

“P-Please—!” he choked out, voice thin and hoarse. “T-Too much—!”

You shoved him forward, flipping him off the couch like he weighed nothing, landing him sprawled across the rug with his wrists still bound tightly behind his back. His chest heaved against the floor. His cock gave a weak little twitch, leaking steadily.

You grabbed him by the waist and hauled him up into your lap, straddling you.

“Wha—”

Your cock, still rock hard, slick and dripping, was pressed between his cheeks, sliding through the cum-slick mess of his skin.

“You’re gonna ride me,” you muttered, breath hot against his throat. “Like the desperate little cumrag you are.”

Chance shivered violently, his arms still pinned behind his back, completely helpless, still panting, eyes half-lidded, flushed red down to his chest.

“I can’t—”

“You can. You will."

You gripped his hips and forced him down.

He screamed, raw and loud as your cock pushed back inside him in one brutal, unrelenting thrust. His body jolted, head thrown back as he took every inch to the hilt, overstimulated walls clenching helplessly around you.

“You’ve already taken it once,” you growled in his ear. “You can take it again.”

“Nnhhh—f-fuck—! I-I can’t—!”

You didn’t let him rest. You grabbed him by the waist and bounced him on your cock, guiding his hips up and down on your length like a doll, each motion making obscene squelching noises from the mess already inside him.

Chance moaned loud, body twitching and trembling in overstimulation.

“Don’t slow down,” you ordered. “You wanna come again? Fucking earn it.”

“I-I’m trying—” he sobbed, trying to buck his hips, but they barely moved, his legs shook too hard, his arms still bound, his whole body reduced to spasms. “T-Too much—too much—”

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, hot and humiliating. His thighs burned. His breath came in broken gasps. His cock, flushed dark red and leaking again, bounced with every movement, already stiffening for another unwanted orgasm.

“You like it like this?” you hissed, thrusting up into him with each drop of his hips. “Like being fucked stupid? Like a toy?”

Chance moaned, eyes fluttering, mouth open.

“I see that twitch,” you said, staring down at his cock. “You’re close again.”

“Nnh—!”

You stopped moving.

He whimpered, sobbing out a strangled “please!”

You grabbed his hair, pulling his head back to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t get to come yet.”

Then you started again, pounding into him from below, forcing him to bounce and ride you at your pace, using his own weight to fuck yourself deeper. Your hands bruised into his hips. His cock dribbled precum with every brutal thrust. His body sagged, his voice reduced to breathless, broken moans.

“Y-You’re—g-gonna break me—” he choked.

“Good,” you spat, grabbing his ass and spreading it wider, fucking in so deep he saw white. “That’s exactly what you deserve.”

His body was burning, wrecked, every nerve alight, every breath trembling. You kept him there until he was sobbing nonsense, whining like a fucked-out whore, his cock twitching wildly as he begged to come.

And only when he’d gone completely limp in your grip, mumbling your name like a prayer, did you slam up into him and come again, spilling another load deep inside, so much that it oozed out immediately, dripping onto your thighs.

And only then did you curl your hand around his cock and jerk him off one lasy time.

He came instantly, loud and shattered, spilling across both of your stomachs as his whole body convulsed.

Then he slumped forward against your chest, trembling violently, completely ruined.

You didn’t let him fall.

You held him there.

One hand in his hair. The other cupping his ass, watching the cum drip out of him in thick white trails, pooling on the floor.

“Next time,” you muttered into his ear, “you stay close.”

Chance let out a weak, breathless laugh, broken and delirious.

“Y-Yeah,” he whispered. “Or else I end up like this again, huh?”

You smirked.

“Exactly.”

Chance sagged forward, boneless in your lap, cheek pressed weakly to your chest.

His whole body trembled.

You didn’t move right away.

One arm stayed snug around his back, the other brushed sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. His skin was burning, flushed and sticky with slick, spit, and cum. His wrists twitched behind his back, still bound tightly with his own ruined tie, the fabric digging a little too deep now that the heat had passed. His breath came in soft little whimpers.

“Okay,” you murmured, voice low. “That’s enough. You’re alright now.”

You reached behind him, fingers working carefully at the knot. The tie gave way with a soft pull.

Chance’s arms slumped down uselessly in front of him. He didn’t say anything, but you could hear the relief in his breathing. You rubbed gentle circles into the sore joints of his wrists, tracing over the faint red marks left behind.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?

Chance gave a breathless huff, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Just… bad enough,” he rasped, lips twitching into a broken smile. “Asshole.”

You smirked. “You loved it.”

“No shit.”

He nuzzled into you, nuzzling deeper into your chest like it was a pillow. His whole body was heavy now, every part of him melting into your lap like he didn’t have the strength to sit up anymore.

“Alright, come on,” you said gently, threading an arm beneath his knees. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chance made a soft noise of protest as you lifted him. More of a whimper than anything, but he didn’t resist. He just curled his arms weakly around your neck, eyes shut, breathing slow. You carried him like that, out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the cabin’s little bathroom where the old clawfoot tub still worked if you coaxed the pipes.

The water steamed fast. You sat him down on the closed toilet lid while you filled the tub, rubbing your thumbs across the inside of his thighs where bruises were already blooming.

He hissed softly. “Jesus. Didn’t hold back, huh?”

You looked him in the eye.

“Did you want me to?”

“…no.”

You smiled, soft and slow.

“I know.”

Once the tub was ready, you guided him into the water, one arm around his waist. He sank in with a sigh, limbs spreading out like he didn’t know how to move them anymore. The water went cloudy fast with sweat and cum.

You sat behind him, pulling his back to your chest, both arms coiled loosely around him. He let himself rest there, head tilted up into the crook of your neck, his breath finally starting to slow.

You took your time washing him.

No words, just the quiet drip of the faucet and the soft sound of your hands running soap down his back, over his stomach, through his hair. Every time he twitched, every time he flinched at a sore spot or let out a shivery breath, you soothed him with a low hum, thumb rubbing slow over his hip.

“I got you,” you whispered against his temple. “You’re okay. You did good.”

“…was I?”

You paused.

His voice was small. Not teasing or smug. Just tired.

“Was I actually good?”

You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing under his eye, just where a tear track still lingered.

“Yeah,” you said gently. “You were good, Chance.”

His breath caught.

You kissed his temple, then his jaw, then the corner of his mouth.

“You did exactly what I needed you to,” you whispered. “And you took everything I gave you.”

He didn’t respond. Just pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttered shut.

You stayed like that until the water went lukewarm.

When you carried him to bed, he clung to you loosely, legs wrapping around your waist like a blanket. You laid him down and climbed in beside him, pulling the covers up and tucking him into your chest. He buried himself under your arms, face hidden in your neck.

“I’m not gonna let you die out there,” you murmured.

“…I know.”

“But next time you sprint across the map with no plan and get chased halfway to hell—”

“I knoooow,” he groaned, shoving his face deeper into your chest. “Fuck, don’t start again, I’m too tired to get wrecked a second time—”

You chuckled softly.

“You’ll behave?”

“Maybe.”

You nipped his ear. “I can tie you up right now, smartass—”

“Okay okay okay,” he mumbled quickly, lips brushing your collarbone. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

You ran your fingers slowly through his hair.

He fell asleep on your chest like that — still sore, still leaking, still sticky from everything you’d done to him.

But safe.

And his.

#forsaken x reader #chance x reader #forsaken x reader smut #holy shet this took so long i gooned to it tho

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glassmitu · 15 hours ago

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Hey cutie can u do chance x yelan!reader? Please and thank uuu

Maaterlist — Forsaken

Request — Chance x yelan!Reader, headcanons,,

⭑𓂃 ⌗ Staff — sure,, they both own casino too which i find it pretty silly,.,

CHANCE

𖣠 Ah chance remembers you! You were one of the people they had played in the casino multiple times, honestly never thought they'll see you in place like this.

𖣠 you are sentinel like them, which sometimes you two would team up and stun the killer together, this method works quite good. Considering your strings.

𖣠 before and after rounds, you two would play small cards or dices here and there, also making bets on who'll survive more than the other.

𖣠 Whenever chance gets too into their own world, you'll keep them silent by tugging them with your strings wrapped around their body, you keep them like that whenever they are being too well cocky or talkactive.

𖣠 You two both had debt for mafioso, since you stole their pur for their boss while chance had won the prize in that game, such a similar friends.

#𝐎𝐎 #forsaken x reader #roblox forsaken #forsaken #chance x reader #yelan genshin impact #headcanons #fanfiction #request

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makilvsu · 27 days ago

Note

An art request for you

Can you draw Chance x reader?

Eat my children, eat

(Doing 1-2 requests per day until my holidays end, then back to work sigh..)

#forsaken #forsaken x y/n #forsaken x you #forsaken x reader #forsaken chance #chance forsaken #chance x reader

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a99jazzybean · 11 hours ago

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OK SO idk if ur the type to make hcs or fluff but PLEASE maybe some more dad! Chance or dad Parker!!!! OR OR hear me out... Tabletopreader parenting (I need myself some domestic chance/Parker)

I love doing parent headcanons so much! Thank you for the request!

Chance/Parker/Diceplay Parenting Headcanons

Chance

As I’ve written in my previous fic, I wholeheartedly believe that Chance is a Girl Dad™.

He just gives off those vibes so bad. Don’t get me wrong, he would love a son just as equally.

He would be so so good with kids.

Before becoming a father, he is doing so much research. I think he’d definitely be a bit paranoid that he wouldn’t be good enough, so he’d overcompensate by diving into learning everything he could about parenthood. I believe his job as a psychologist is mostly with adults, so he’s turning to his pediatric colleagues for advice. They would see his clear enthusiasm as a sign that he’s going to make a great parent, but that obviously would not be enough for Chance. The man is coming home with research papers on the latest parenting techniques.

As soon as the kid is in his arms though, all of that information flies out of his mind. Parenting comes naturally to him, he had nothing to worry about. He’s one of those people whose love for their kid arrives immediately. Like he had found a missing piece that he’s been searching for. Whether they’re biologically his or not doesn’t matter, he’s accepting the position of father.

Naming wise, I see a lot of people headcanon that Chance goes for unique fantasy-esque names, but I think he’d know better than that. Would he love to name his daughter Eowyn? Absolutely. Does he also know that realistically could have his kid bullied? Yes. I think he’d work with you to find unique names that won’t end up with your kid becoming their school pariah.

Chance is a sucker for his kids, but he doesn’t always bend to their will. He knows when discipline is necessary. He’s never harsh with punishment though, with his job he’s an expert with gentle parenting techniques. Those kids are very well behaved, and have phenomenal emotional regulation skills. That being said, if his kid is really wanting to grab ice cream on the way home… What? He couldn’t say no to those puppy dog eyes. It doesn’t help that the kids 100% learned that trick from him. Watching their other parent fold as soon as Chance pulls that sweet look on his face, yeah they’re using that one for themselves.

“What have we created?” Chance asks as you have once again allowed your kids to have their way.

“We created?” You question. “Oh no, you do not get to pin that on me! They learned their little tricks from you, Chance.”

As an avid fantasy lover, Chance is definitely sharing that passion with his children. Bedtime stories are often filled with dragons and fairies from faraway lands. Eventually he tries to introduce them to tabletop gaming. I don’t know if he could necessarily convince his kids to be interested in that, but he’ll certainly try. If they are involved in tabletop RPG’s those kids are learning how to be amazing game masters. Learned it from the best, obviously.

Even if his kids aren’t into the same things as himself, Chance is going to passionately learn about their interests. He knows all too well how it feels to not be listened to, and he doesn’t want his kid to feel as if their parent isn’t involved in their life. As soon as Chance figures out what his kids like, he’s doing his research. Sure, he might not be the biggest fan of football. However, if his kid is a huge fan, he’s on the sidelines cheering on his kid at every game, he’s trying to snag season tickets to take them to every local professional/collegiate game he can. He’ll learn sports stats, listen to his kid jabber on and on about the best plays of the season, he’ll do EVERYTHING to make his kid feel heard. Hell, he might feel compelled to join his work’s fantasy league. What’s important to Chance is passion, and he wants to make sure that flame stays lit.

Outside of interests, Chance is just a caring father in general. Always checking in, making sure things are alright in his kid’s lives. At the first sign of something going wrong, he’s swooping in. Now, there are times where he tends to be a bit too “clinical”, but it’s something his kids pick up fairly quickly. When he recognizes it, Chance knows when to pull back and just listen to them. Whenever his kids open up to him, Chance always makes sure to thank them for sharing with him. He never wants them to feel like they have something to hide.

Since the kids are pretty well-adjusted, there’s a bit of a disparity between themselves and their peers. They’ll hear about friends rebelling, and not understand the need to do so.

“Wait, you’ve never snuck out?” One of their friends asks.

“No? I’ve never had to?” Your kid questions, confused.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I can just ask my parents. They normally let me go out if I just tell them what I’m doing.”

“Rebellious phases” are very short lived in your house. Catch your kid drinking? You and Chance are able to sit them down and have a good heart-to-heart on why it was wrong of them. When you live in a house with reliable parents, there’s not much your kid feels like they have to hide.

This open-door policy makes it so your home is the go-to hangout spot for your kids and their friends. You and Chance become pseudo-second parents for a lot of your kids’ friends. The grocery bill grows slightly larger when you find over five people at your dinner table on a semi-regular basis. Knowing how big Chance’s heart is, he couldn’t turn them away. Thankfully he has a well-paying job.

You and Chance’s relationship grows even closer after you have kids. He is always checking in with you. Wanting to be the best parent he can possibly be, he’s constantly asking about areas of improvement. You tell him he’s doing wonderfully, but he does want valid criticism if you have any. He’ll regale the latest tales from his parenting adventures, and wants to hear yours. When he’s in a rut, he always turns to you for the next steps, and hopes that you come to him as well. Seeing you interact with your children makes his heart soar, and might make him want to have more with you.

Overall, Chance is just an extremely caring father. Always doing his best to make sure his kids are okay. He’ll do everything in his power to keep his family healthy and happy.

Parker

Parker is Boy Dad™ to me. Again, it’s the vibes. I don’t really know how to explain it, that’s just how it is. However, I think he’d just be into being a father in general.

At first, I think Parker would be a bit concerned about being a parent. Sure, the excitement is 100% there, but he’s nervous as hell. He knows he can come off as a “bit too much”, and is afraid that will translate into how he parents. While he’s waiting to officially become a parent the man is jumping back and forth between extreme excitement and nerves. Having you there to soothe him certainly helps though. He’ll definitely need the reassurance.

Once the kid is here, I don’t think the nerves fully go away. He’s definitely a bit more self-assured, but will still need your comforting words in his ear.

He will need help with child-rearing, as he has no clue how things are supposed to go. Once he knows what needs to be done though, he’s an absolute ace at taking care of the kids. As if it’s a sixth sense, he knows exactly what each coo and cry means. It’s extremely impressive how fast he picks up on your kid’s needs. The sixth sense goes past the baby-phase too. When your kid can’t tell you what’s wrong, Parker has got it all figured out. Yeah, the tantrum had nothing to do about not getting a toy. They’re just tired and need an earlier afternoon nap.

Obviously Parker is all about play-time. Whether it be board games or those of imagination, Parker loves to play with the kids. Don’t be surprised to find him at a tea party surrounded by stuffed animals actively participating. Pinky-up and all.

“Misses Butterscotch, your petunias are looking absolutely divine, you must tell me your secret.” Parker says, taking a fake sip of tea from a bright pink teacup.

“I use butterfly poop!” Your daughter says in a poor British accent, shuffling around a bright yellow teddy bear.

“Butterfly poop! Marvelous! I should’ve known!” Parker places his hand on his chest, letting out a guffaw.

When it comes to board games, Parker is a beast. He will not forfeit a game. Even if your kid is just barely old enough to play, they’re learning about handling crushing defeat. Parker will not budge on this stance. Your kid is going to learn how to win fair-and-square, he will never give up just to appease their spirits. It feels almost like cheating to just let them win.

When his kids finally do beat him at a board game, the man is beaming with pride. Almost crying, really. He uses the moment to encourage them to keep trying. While he can come off as a bit of a sore-loser at times, he’ll still accept defeat.

Since Parker’s job is umpiring, he’s obviously going to encourage his kid to join sports. Specifically baseball, but he’s excited for any athletic activity his kid participates in. From gymnastics to clay pigeon shooting, he’s just excited for them to be a part of something with rules that they enjoy. He’ll be the most enthusiastic sports spectator at their events. Cheering from the sidelines at whatever type of event it is. If the kid is on a team, he’s donning their colors.

When your kids are younger, he’s definitely coaching their sporting teams. Though, he’s not giving your kid any special treatment. They’re gonna have to play just as hard as the other members on the team. He’s also making sure they practice a lot. While he cares about the enjoyment of the game, he also wants them to win.

Parker is not a very good disciplinarian. Oftentimes, that job is going to be left up to you. However, when you explain how that reflects poorly on your parenting skills, Parker is willing to compromise. Neither of you are harsh on your children, and he recognizes that kids do need proper structure in their lives. While he doesn’t like doing it, he will put the kids in their place when necessary.

He’s not the kind of father that hands out bits of wisdom, but he’s always willing to lend an ear when his kid needs it. When he feels that he can’t handle something on his own, he’ll bring you into the fold. Together you are a dream team. Parker will listen, retell what he’s learned, and you work to find a solution together. Something that definitely eases Parker’s worries when it comes to parenting. Knowing that he has you by his side fills him with tons of confidence, making him feel like he can handle anything.

Obviously, Parker is such a fun dad. He tells absolutely terrible jokes, but will make sure his kids are happy. Seeing his kid’s smile and laugh is one of his favorite things. The first time he’s able to make them giggle, oh, his poor heart. That man is going to cry at the sight.

He might not have the most tact, but he will do his damndest to cheer up his kids when they are down. Does he understand high school relationship drama? Not really. Will he tell the worst knock-knock joke to see his sobbing kid let out even the slightest chuckle? Absolutely.

“I can’t believe Jessica would do that to me!” Your daughter sobs out, curled into herself. “She knew how much I liked Jake, and she still went out with him!”

“Sounds like this Jessica’s a bit of a jerk.” Parker felt himself sweating, he had stepped into a minefield that he had zero knowledge on. “Wanna hear a joke?”

“Ugh, dad. This isn’t the time…” She grumbled with a sniffle.

“Well, did you hear about the idiot going up to people’s houses?” He gave his daughter a bright smile.

“No?”

“Knock-knock?” Parker continued.

“Who’s there?” She eyed her dad suspiciously.

“Jessica!” He waved jazz-hands in the air.

“Oh my god. You’re terrible.” She said, despite letting out a chuckle. “Jessica’s still my best friend.”

“Even though she’s kind of an idiot?” Parker teased, nudging her shoulder.

“Yes, even though she’s kind of an idiot.” His daughter couldn’t help her small smile.

Parenting with Parker can make your relationship rocky at times. He’s certainly unconventional, which can be stressful. However, making it a point to constantly communicate will bring you closer than ever. Seeing how much he clearly cares for your children certainly helps. Even if either of you messes up, you know that together you’ll find a way to fix it. That’s the important thing, working together.

Overall Parker is a fun dad to the extreme. While he will learn when to take things seriously, he’s going to do what he loves. Which is having fun! Raising a family with him will be quite the entertaining spectacle. His parenting style will certainly keep some people on their toes, but since he won’t be alone, he’ll do just fine.

Diceplay

Chance and Parker make wonderful fathers individually, I think having them both be parents together would definitely help them balance each other out.

The two would learn a lot from each other. Parker would help Chance become less high-strung and more free as a parent. Making Chance accept that your kids are going to get bruised and banged up occasionally, and that’s okay. Chance would give more structure to Parker, making sure he understands the importance of keeping things at home in order to benefit your kids' development. Where one struggles, the other picks up the slack so your kids are never without. Then they have you, of course. Filling out their little family wonderfully.

Having Chance would give Parker more opportunities to be a fun parent. I picture them as the perfect outing duo. Parker is the activity planner, and Chance is the planner. Going to the beach? Parker knows the perfect spot to set up camp, the best ice cream joint on the boardwalk, and has the squirtguns ready to go. Chance makes sure you’ve got your sunscreen and aloe vera, knows when the UV index is going to be the highest, and has plenty of healthy snacks packed for your day trip.

“Oh the Double Scoop has those Xtreme Moose Tracks, we’re definitely stopping there!” Parker exclaims, as he shoves a bag full of beach toys in the trunk of your SUV.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds nice.” Chance is looking at his phone. “We should probably go around one then, get us out of the sun for a bit.”

You’re smirking and shaking your head as you listen to your husbands plan out your day without even realizing it.

“What’s funny?” Your kid asks as you buckle them into their car seat.

“Oh nothing, sweetheart. Your dads just being your dads.”

Parker would still make sure that your kids are disciplined, but it would be a major burden off his shoulders to have you and Chance cover most of the emotional labor. Parker would never be one to turn away his kids when they need an ear, but he would have more of an unconventional approach to handling emotional turmoil than you and Chance.

On the other side, Chance would be grateful to have Parker around to be your kids’ playmate. He’s got a pretty stressful job, sometimes he needs time away from people. Parker will gladly take up the role to play with your kids. Or when they’re older, being the one to spend time if they’re needing company with a parent.

Again, both of them will do these tasks. It’s just nice to have someone that has a bit of a more niche expertise in these areas to handle things when life is a bit overwhelming.

The two would absolutely go wild for your kids’ passions. Every band concert, sporting event, and school play they are attending. Depending on what the interest is in would depend on which of them is taking a more active role. Both of them will participate, but sometimes it can be better to have similar interests with your parent.

For some reason, Chance and Parker give me the vibes of people who grew up in the Chicago suburbs. (I have a few friends from the area and they’re super alike to the two, so that’s probably where it comes from.) Because of this, I think that both of them are actually huge baseball fans. Chance morseo because it’s always been a family tradition, Parker just loves the sport itself. If their kid joined a little league, they would be absolutely overjoyed. Even if your kid isn’t playing the sport, a regular summertime family outing is going to see an evening baseball game. Parker of course has all of you donned in your team’s merchandise.

When it comes to education, I think Chance is very much into making sure your kids are well educated. Parker gives the vibes that he’s the kind of person that would’ve struggled in school, but he would understand its importance. I think the two would help each other out in this area. Both of them encourage your child in different ways. Chance would be the one to go to for help with schoolwork, and Parker would make sure your kid isn’t pushing themselves too hard. Both of them perfectly demonstrate the importance of healthy balance. All work and no play, you know?

Game nights are wild at your house. Chance and Parker follow the same ideology of not letting your kids win for the sake of winning. However, Chance will purposely choose easier games at times to make sure your kids have a shot at winning. Sometimes Parker and Chance will get into disagreements on rules. Chance is the more relaxed one when it comes to games, whereas Parker is all about sticking to the book. It can make playing games a bit tense, but in the end, they realize the point is to have fun. Though, Parker will not let cheating slide. Ever.

Parenting with Chance and Parker is both chaotic and a breeze. Even if things feel overwhelming, you know that together you’ll find a way to manage. Having three parents is quite beneficial at times. Feeling like you're in a race, you are able to help each other out by taking over needs that one person might struggle to handle. At the end of the night, you all decompress together in bed. Chatting about life and the kids. Making sure everything is handled, including your own emotional wellbeing.

Both Parker and Chance love your kids deeply, and would give up the world for them. It’s nice to have parents that will balance each other out. Having the two of them shows your kids the importance of both hard work and fun.

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