#lisp tw

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Rolan's lisp headcanons:

Inspired by this post [alt]

A/N: I am not a doctor. I am not claiming that Rolan's voice actor has a lisp IRL, nor am I speculating on the causes of his lisp IF he has one, this post is nothing more than me reaching for angst for one of my blorbo's. Does Rolan have a lisp in-game? It sounds like he does to me, but maybe he doesn't have a lisp and that's just how his accent sounds to my uncultured US American yee-haw ears. --- This specific post is not a lore breakdown, it is pure speculation and conjecture. Some actual lore-breakdowns are linked to provide the canon sources that led me to these headcanons. I posited the information below as though it is factual because it is true for my headcanons, not because it is actually canon.

Content: Angst, a nonmedical-professional speculating on medical things.

TW: physical trauma, brain/head injury, anxiety/stress, child abuse, species-targeted violence*, orphans, homelessness, real-world parallels to discrimination.

*A/N: I am taking a page from WotC and using the term "species" instead of "race" because of the real world connotations that "race" has. And frankly using real-world terms like "racially targeted violence" when discussing a fictional world seems disrespectful to the very real people who must contend with it in their actual lives. And such terms hit too close to home— I'm ethnically ambiguous and pale enough that I don't have to worry about racially motivated violence in my day-to-day life, but many of my family members and loved ones don't have that privilege.

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A/N: (Hard facts are in green, information bookended by green * is info that I'm fairly certain is factual— everything else is headcanon.)

● (Section 1) Possible reasons why Rolan has a lisp:

Rolan was was born with an articulation disorder:

Rolan's speech impairment was much more pronounced (pun unintended) when he was younger.

He taught himself how to speak Common despite his disability because he wanted to be a wizard, who needs to be able to properly pronounce the verbal components of a spell, and because he was severely bullied about it as a child— as it was yet another thing that othered him.

---

Rolan has a forked tongue that makes it difficult for him to speak Common:

(A tiefling specific physical reason why he has trouble speaking.)

A/N: (I don't think that any of the tiefling character models in game have a forked tongue. But based on what I know about tieflings, at least some of them should have a partially or fully forked tongue.)

"The speech of subjects with bifurcated tongues, while intelligible, shows a higher proportion of perceptibly atypical fricatives and significantly greater variance than seen in the control group." Source *Translated into layman's terms: While having a spilt tongue makes it noticeably harder to clearly enunciate and correctly pronounce words, people with a forked tongue are still able to be understood when speaking.*

Keep in mind that the test subjects in the above study were adults who had already learned how to speak. They already knew where and how to position their tongue when speaking, they just needed to adapt to speaking with their newly forked tongue.

Rolan had no one to teach him how to speak common with his naturally forked tongue.

A forked tongue is required to properly speak Infernal , so his lisp serves as yet another reminder of his infernal heritage.

---

It was caused by an improperly healed injury:

Unfortunately, prejudice against tieflings is very common in the realms. *Rolan grew up in* Elturel, a city that tolerated tieflings better than most (until the Decent into Avernus). *A combination of moral superiority and* strict laws enforced by the Hellriders meant that Elturel had a very low crime rate.

In a city where cursing in public could get one into legal trouble, who could ruffians take their aggression out on without penalty? Street children, specifically tiefling street children. Without any adults to look after or protect them, many orphaned/abandoned tiefling children have to resort to stealing to survive (like Mol)— which unfortunately feeds into the stereotype of tieflings being criminals.

Committing a crime against tiefling urchin would be easy to get away with. Because who is the city guard going to believe— a purportedly good and upstanding citizen who was simply defending themselves, or a gamin devil-kin thief?

Before descending into the hells overtly hateful prejudice against tieflings was kept behind closed doors and away from polite company— it would be uncouth to be openly intolerant. The holier-than-thou people of Elturel looked the other way when injustices were committed against tieflings.

After Elturel was retuned from the hells openly displaying anti-tiefling sentiments became socially acceptable and widespread amongst the non-tiefling populace of the city. *Before the tieflings were banished violence against them had dramatically increased in Elturel. (Which sadly meant that the general levels of violence tieflings faced in Elturel now matched Faerûn as a whole.)*

Rolan was abandoned by his human parents because he was born a tiefling. Even if Rolan wasn't a street urchin and had instead been taken in by an orphanage or a temple; his prospects there weren't much better, maybe even worse, than being on the streets. (Rolan was, at some point, thankfully adopted by Cal and Lia's mother.)

Rolan would have suffered because he is a tiefling— either at the hands of the orphanage's/temple's care-takers and/or from the other unwanted children (Rolan is intelligent and magically gifted, jealousy is a hell of a motivator for school-yard bullies), or from criminals/assholes who wanted an easy target, or all of the above.

All of this to say: Rolan was, likely repeatedly, subjected to species-motivated physical violence when he was a child, causing him to receive an injury that never properly healed or that permanently damaged a portion of his brain that controls speech/speaking.

"Neurological disorders, such as stroke, brain injury, or dysarthria, can affect the brain regions and neural pathways responsible for speech production. A disruption in the neurological pathways can lead to difficulties coordinating and controlling the muscles involved in speech, including those of the tongue and lips. As a result, individuals may struggle to produce specific sounds correctly, potentially manifesting as a lisp." Source "Dysarthria can be caused by conditions that make it hard to move the muscles in the mouth, face or upper respiratory system... [which] control speech. Conditions that may lead to dysarthria include... Brain injury... Head injury." Source "An injury to the tongue or teeth can also cause a lisp." Source

---

Rolan developed it as an adult due to stress:

Everybody responds to stress differently, and sometimes our bodies respond in strange and unexpected ways— such as developing a lisp.

"...anxiety and stress can cause a lisp. This is more common in adults than children." … "Stress and anxiety can surprisingly trigger or exacerbate lisping..." Source 1, Source 2

Reasons Rolan has to be stressed TF out before the events of BG3:

*Abandoned by his biological parents because he was born a tiefling.*

Grew up in an abusive orphanage/temple, in the streets, or both.

He is a tiefling, a species of humanoids in Faerûn that look like devils and are heavily discriminated against because of it.

*Rolan is the oldest and most responsible sibling.*

*His adoptive mother died, either before or during Avernus— leaving Rolan in charge of caring for his younger siblings.*

*Rolan and his family grew up poor, he knew that his magical talents could pull them out of poverty* and he trained incredibly hard to hone his skills without a teacher.

*Due to his lack of proper schooling*, and because his lisp prevents him from properly pronouncing the verbal components of spells, Rolan had to make his own versions of common spells.

He feels responsible for Cal and Lia's wellbeing, and is willing to go to extreme lengths/endure extreme things if it means he can provide a better life for them.

He doesn't truly believe that they consider him their brother/family.

Elturel, his home, was pulled into Avernus for at least a tenday.

He and his siblings had to survive actual hell.

Tieflings were blamed for the city falling into the hells because they look like devils, *leading to violence against them.*

He, his family, and all the other tieflings were exiled from Elturel because they were tieflings.

*He had to leave behind almost everything he had worked so hard to acquire.*

Reasons Rolan has to be stressed TF out during the events of BG3:

He has been roughing it with the other refugees for gods knows how long.

If he takes too long to get to Baldur's Gate he risks his apprenticeship, *his one and (thus far/possibly) only chance to learn how to become a powerful enough wizard that he can support his siblings.*

The druids are threatening to kick them out of the grove.

If they are forced from the grove everyone will be slaughtered by goblins.

Some meddling adventurer convinced his siblings to stay and help protect the other refugees instead of making a break for it on their own.

Wyll is a devil now!?

They traversed through the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Insane, murderous, cultists attacked the tiefling caravan intent on slaughtering them.

Zevlor (seemingly) betrayed them.

His siblings were captured by said insane, murderous, cultists *because he wasn't strong enough to protect them and the children at the same time.*

That asshole adventurer is back, and they save him and his siblings again.

Baldur's Gate is refusing the refugees entry into the city.

Lorroakan doesn't let Lia and Cal stay in the tower.

Lorroakan is an abusive fraud.

He has to help the Nightsong and the adventurer fight Lorroakan.

He is suddenly the master of Ramazith's Tower and owner of Sorcerous Sundries.

A Netherbrain is set to attack the Gate and take over the Sword Coast.

He promised his help in the fight against said Netherbrain.

He has to figure out how to get the tower's arcane cannons, *which Lorroakan had neglected and allowed to fall into disrepair,* up and running before the final fight.

Just to name a few.

● (Section 2) Rolan's lisp misc. headcanons:

Rolan's lisp gets worse when his is tired or stressed.

It is ironically easier for him to speak clearly when he's drunk (up to a point) because he's used to struggling to pronounce words.

His adoptive mother taught him where to position/how to move his tongue when speaking common with a forked tongue.

Part of the reason he speaks in such a haughty tone is because doing so makes his words more clearly pronounced/enunciated.

His siblings only teased him about his lisp once when they were children, Rolan was so distressed that they vowed to never tease him for his speech impairment again.

Lia got into several fights when she was younger with kids who made fun of Rolan's lisp.

He might as well be a wild magic sorcerer with how often his spells have gone awry because he mispronounced a verbal component.

He is deeply self-conscious about his lisp.

He holds the forks of his tongue together, even when his mouth is closed, which gives him persistent tension headaches.

Once he gets comfortable enough around a romantic partner he stops (actively) trying to suppress his lisp around them and his siblings in private.

● (Section 3) Rolan's lisp forked tongue NSFW headcanons:

Because he has adapted to speaking common with a split tongue he is able to independently control both sides of his tongue.

His tongue is strong because he constantly flexes it.

His tongue is long. While this makes it harder for him to speak, it also leaves his partner very satisfied.

You know you're fucking him real good when his begging words start to slur together.

His ahegao face is top tier.

The amount of time it takes him to recover his ability to speak after an orgasm is increased by how mind-blowing said orgasm was.

[slugass]

that’s not a funny voice that’s just you mimicking a disability to come off as “annoying” for your “ooh look at me” mocking voice what the fuck does the issue you’re mocking have anything to do with someone having a lisp or palsy some shit

[cheese-is-a-milk-loaf]

So, I’ve always had a lisp. I was in speech therapy for it, and I’ve been out of speech therapy for 6 years. It’s not really that noticeable, normally, but I got retainers today. And it’s back to where it was 6 or 7 years ago. I spent so much of my life trying to correct this lisp and now it’s back. I’ve been practicing all day to do the exercises I was taught and they do nothing. Like, my thing is talking, I act, I sing, and I make conversation. But, now I sound like a fucking child. Or a stereotypical nerd, take your pick. I just want to stop talking because of it. You don’t realize how many word have ‘s’ in them until you can’t pronounce them, and I have been intimately aware of that fact since I started school and noticed I couldn’t pronounce words correctly. My parents didn’t try to correct my lisp when I was younger because it was small to them, but my preschool teacher noticed that I would stop talking when I got frustrated with myself because I couldn’t talk like everyone else. That’s how I got into speech therapy, if she didn’t notice I’d be mute. And, by god, I’m so close to going mute. I know it’s dramatic, but could finally communicate easily with others and that’s been taken away from me. Barely anyone knew that talked like this, I’m only still friends with two people from that long ago. It’s humiliating.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

~

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

[miguelsslvt]

ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader

part two here!

word count: 745

TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.

A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!

back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.

you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.

miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.

you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.

miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.

it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?

that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!

you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.

'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.

'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.

the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'

your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.

'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.

3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.

'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.

'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.

god, is this heaven?

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[phas3d]

Annoying Habits Pt. 2 || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute and stupid things they do because i love fluff for some reason right now - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (saying "fun facts" that's common knowledge)

Being the smartest person in the room is the hardest thing ever, so thank GOD Draco is not him. He will run to you with full confidence to tell you about any new discovery he makes. It's new to him, but common sense to everyone else. But you don't have the heart to tell him it's basic knowledge because you know he'll never trust you again.

"You HAVE to follow me, it's the craziest thing EVER!" Draco said as he dragged you out of your dorm to run to the quad.

Whenever he's done this, you knew you needed to put on your best ever acting skills. You follow behind him, trying to predict what he'll say but before you complete those thoughts, he cuts you off.

"LOOK. AT. THIS!" He says as he points at the sky. You were confused, genuinely unsure of how to react since you weren't sure what to be shocked at.

"Oh wow uh, that's amazing!" You say hesistantly."

Draco was unsatisfied with your reaction, understanding that you had no clue what he was referencing too.

"Love," He paused for dramatic effect "Do you not see the MOON is fully in view during broad daylight?"

He said it with the highest confidence, somehow gaslighting you into genuinely feeling dumb despite knowing the moon is out during day time.

"W-Wow! You're so smart!" You say as an automatic response as he smiles, glad to teach you something.

"I know I am" He says, despite it not being in his personality list at all.

TOM RIDDLE (mocking you)

It is in Tom's blood to be mean, since he is he son of Voldemort. This caused him to have a tremendously hard time trying to make friends. Even when he acted as if he was a normal person, he would get tired and eventually snap to his true self: a blunt cold person. Because of this, he's not sure how to act in most situations since he has no clue how to react to most things. Thankfully, he has you to show him how to act.

When you two watch movies, he pays attention to you as well to see how to react. Or when you go out and talk with others, he copies your little mannerisms. It was cute at first to know that you're helping him adjust to society. But it quickly become annoying since he is extremely good at reading you.

It's gotten to the point where he can predict almost everything that you'll say, matching your tone, pitch, and even lisp perfectly. You could say nothing during a conversation and he'd be able to fill in the gaps exactly how you would.

"Tom-" You were interrupted.

"Where's my science notebook?" Tom mocks you, using a higher voice and over-exaggerating your harsh k's.

You sigh, which he also copied, before you playfully hit him with a small smile. "I told you to stop copying me!" You and Tom both say in unison.

"Your book is on your bed, hidden under your unfolded clothes. I recommend you clean it, I can tell all of your clothes are wrinkled already." He says as he flips his book to the next page.

"Oh shut up" You say as Tom copies you yet again.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (Annoying Tom)

Although Tom and Mattheo don't interact much in public, in private the two have a strong bond that can only be understood by each other. Their usual converstations consist of Mattheo raging about something, going into insane detail while Tom silently reacts whilst doing his homework. Then, Tom will give Mattheo a lecture on why what he did was fucking stupid which Mattheo spaces out to.

Since you've been with Mattheo for almost a year, you've been graced with the Riddle brother's bond, witnesses their odd converstations first hand. You've gotten used to it, blending perfectly in to their bond.

One thing that surprised you was the fact the Mattheo suddenly turns into the most annoying and needy person ever the second he's with Tom.

"Can you shut the fuck up and do your work?" Tom said, annoyed at the fact that you and Mattheo were sitting at his table in the library.

"It's not due until midnight! I'll just run to Snape's class at like 11:59 sharp." Mattheo said as he continued to make fake paper swords and shurikens.

"Okay sure do that, dumbass, see what happens." Tom mumbles, finally gave up on trying to convince his brother to do his work.

"You should listen to him~" You said as you flipped the page of your textbook whilst taking notes.

"Don't side with him! You're MY girlfriend!" Mattheo said annoyed by your words.

Tom smirked and nodded his head at you slightly, showing his small appreciation for you siding with him.

THEODORE NOTT (lying for fun)

He's basically like SZA, lying for fun because it's a good conversation starter. He first started doing this when he first came to Hogwarts because he wasn't sure how to start a conversation with someone. He would lie by saying he never had popcorn before or that he's allergic to dragon scales so people would be interested.

Now he's popular and has no need to lie for attention. But, it's an addiction. He can't stop making silly lies that are just borderline believable. But now he's widen his horizon, now he lies about history, teachers, other people, and more.

"Did you know Draco's mom is colorblind?" Theo said as he entered the Slytherin dorm. You sighed, already being able to tell he was lying since you knew him so well.

"Whaaaat?! Is she? Like for real???" Lorenzo questioned as to how Theo found out before himself, especially since he was raised by the Malfoys. "That makes sense why her outfits for funny lookin' sometimes."

"That's so sad man." Mattheo said solemly, as if Theo just said Draco's mom suffered from a permeant disease. "She sees life like those old ass Mickey Mouse cartoons. All black and white."

The three idiots looked down at the floor, feeling pity for Draco's mom colorblindness. you scoffed at their stupidity but suddenly Enzo spoke up.

"We should make her a get well soon card!" He said with a smile.

"Don't do that-" You were cut off by Theo's hand covering your mouth.

"No we should! Make sure you only use black and grey though." Theo said.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (repetitive questions)

Although Lorenzo was the same age as you, he still trusted you way more than himself. You helped him pick everything, from outfits, food, dates, and more. Of course he would help too, but he just loved hearing your input since he wants to be the perfect boyfriend for you.

But, this habit of getting your approval for things started to sneak into schoolwork and paperwork. It started with him checking his answers with you, a completely normal thing. Then checking that his paper was the same as yours, also pretty normal. But as time progressed, he would ask you to double-check his stuff on dumb stuff like whether he grabs the 10th-grade paper or the 11th-grade paper, or what he puts in the "date" section at the top.

It's been even worse lately since he was applying for multiple colleges around the UK and US. You were doing the same, needing to desperately focus on your essays and studies to do the different school's entrance exams.

"(Y/NNNN)!" Lorenzo called out to you, despite you being literally 2 feet away from him.

"Yessss, Lorenzooooo?!" You said, giving the same energy back.

"Where it says "enter social security number" do I put my social security number?" He asks, full seriousness in his tone.

At this point in your life, you were so sick of this man so all you could do was stare at him until he decided to guess what he should do. You stare was strong, but his innocent eyes and cute face was overpowering you.

You weakly nodded, losing the one-sided battle. You thought it would be the last question from him, maybe he would get the hint you were annoyed.

"So, where it says "pick major" I put the thing I want to major in, right?"

thank you for the support ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

SWEETHEART!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Sweetheart!Anakin whose mom was best friends with your mother so you two basically grew up together

Sweetheart!Anakin who always took care of you. Especially when he was a little boy; you were a bit younger than him, so he felt a responsibility to keep you safe. And since you two went to the same preschool it was easier;

Ani's eyes widened as he witnessed the boy pushing you. Without a moment of hesitation, he rushed over and shoved the boy back. "Hey!" his voice firm as he addressed the boy. "Leave her alone!" The little boy's ears perked up at Ani's words, and a look of surprise crossed his face. His cheeks flushed, realizing he'd been caught in the act. Ani stood protectively in front of you, his little fists clenched. "I said, leave her alone!" The other boy's voice trembled with fear as he sheepishly replied, "I-I'm sorry..." Before running away hastily, his small lisp prominent in his rushed apology. Ani turned to you, extending his hand to help you stand up. Worry was etched across his face as he asked, "Are you all right?" You nodded, gratefully accepting his small hand in yours. "Yes, thank you," you murmured softly. His pout deepened after his gaze moved down to your bruised knees. He knelt before you, gently examining them. "You're hurt..." he lamented quietly, his concern evident.

"Oh--I just fell," you managed to say, a slight lisp evident in your voice. Ani tenderly took your hand once more and guided you to sit on a nearby bench. He knelt in front of you, meticulously avoiding pressing too hard on your bruises. With care, Ani's young hands gently grazed your soft skin. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "It stings a bit," you replied, a frown creasing your face.

Ani furrowed his brows and glanced up at you, his young fingers dancing across your skin with delicate care. He bent down and gently blew on the tender skin, attempting to alleviate your pain. "My mother once told me that to soothe a wound, all you need is a kiss," he whispered, his speech slightly affected by a lisp. After placing a small peck on both your knees, he pulled away, diligently playing the role of a miniature doctor. A satisfied smile graced his face as he asked, "Better?"

"yes" you giggled

Sweetheart!Anakin who picks up flowers for you and tugs it behind your ear

Sweetheart!Anakin who started calling you Rapunzel after you dressed as her and his young self went high over heels for you

Sweetheart!Anakin who often spent time in your house as a kid;

You both were playing and running together in the garden before you stopped by the big, old tree "my mommy said that you have to love someone to get married" you said, turning your big, innocent eyes on him.

"Love? Like how my mom loves my dad?" Anakin repeated, his head tilted curiously.

You thought for a moment, your little mouth shaping the words. "I think..."

Anakin's thoughtful expression softened as he nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I think that's right. When you love someone, you want to be with them all the time. And my mom and dad are always together, so I guess they must love each other a lot"

"we are together all the time" you lisped to which Anakin's cheeks flushed pink at the realization of the truth in your words. You two were always together, and it suddenly felt like a profound revelation.

"Yeah... we are," he responded, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice as he looked down to kick a pebble with his foot.

Your innocent question, tinged with a hint of nervousness, hung in the air. "Does that mean we should get married?"

His eyes widened at the mention of 'marriage', a term he had heard his parents speak of but never fully grasped the true meaning of. Yet, the thought of being with you forever filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging.

He met your wide-eyed gaze, his cheeks still tinged with a soft pink. "I think it does," his heart pounding in his chest

"So... does that mean we're... engaged now?" he asked, his voice barely audible, his shy gaze searching your face for a reaction.

"I think..."

Anakin grinned at your response, a mixture of disbelief and joy coursing through him. Engaged to his best friend, his favorite person in the world - it was beyond his wildest dreams. Especially when he felt such strong feelings for you.

"We have to make it official then." His voice held a hint of determination, attempting to sound mature. "Wait here."

With childlike enthusiasm, he sprung up from the ground and bounded over to his mother, who was sitting with yours. He plucked something from his mother's hand and quickly rushed back to you while waving a ring pop. His face wreathed with nothing but a joyous grin

"Here, this is for you," he panted softly, offering you the reddish lollipop. "So we can make it official."

"Do you have one too?"

Anakin affirmed, his cheeks retaining a rosy hue. He fished another ring pop from his pocket and displayed it. "Of course I do. We are both getting engaged, remember? So we both need a ring."

Your mouth opened slightly, a sound of acknowledgment escaping you. "Okay.." you lisped as he gently slid the ring pop onto your little finger, before you reciprocated the gesture, placing the other on his finger.

Anakin popped the ring pop into his mouth and began to lave and suck on it, the sugar coating his tongue while the buzz of your pseudo-engagement added a delightful twist to the taste.

"Yours is strawberry..mine is apple," he said, extending the lollipop to you. "Wanna try?"

You sat there, sharing your ring pops and sampling each other's flavors. It was pure sweetness, both of candy and the innocence of the moment. "Should we kiss now?"

"And don't you do it when you get married?" you inquired

Anakin's cheeks flushed in response to the question, knowing that kissing was often associated with it. However, he hadn't experienced it for himself. The idea of kissing you stirred a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"Well... yeah, I think so..." he mumbled shyly

So with nervousness that mixed with excitement, you both leaned in, your youthful lips meeting in a shy and innocent kiss. However, after pulling away, your little faces contorted into exaggerated expressions of disgust.

"Ugh..."

"Eww--" you exclaimed, wiping your lips as if trying to erase the memory of the kiss.

Anakin, mirroring your action, wiped the back of his hand over his lips "Yeah... that was icky," he said. "We're never doing that again."

You nodded fervently "Never"

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you tutoring lessons from math since he knows you suck at it

Sweetheart!Anakin who never has stopped having the deepest crush on you and still held the ring pop in his nightstand

Sweetheart!Anakin who was absolutely pissed (at himself) and devastated after he found out you've got a boyfriend. And obviously he didn't like him at all. He hadn't even given him a chance from the beginning

Sweetheart!Anakin Who was there for you when your (ex)boyfriend acted like a piece of shit

Sweetheart!Anakin who made sure to appreciate you all the time after you two got together. Would buy/get you your favorite flowers, make sure to show you love through deed. Just do everything he dreamed of doing since the second grade

Sweetheart!Anakin who climbed to your window in the middle of the night just because you were grounded at haven't seen him in a long time;

You grumbled to yourself, irritated with the grounding that seemed utterly senseless to you. Laying on your back on the bed, you stared up at the ceiling, the silence in the room enveloping you like a heavy blanket.

Suddenly, a small knock sounded at the window, catching your attention. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than a bird or a raindrop. But soon, the knocking grew louder, its rhythm growing more urgent.

You sat up, wondering what could be making such a commotion. Climbing out of bed, you walked cautiously toward the window with your heart starting to race.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Anakin in the hood and you immediately opened the window "Ani?" you whispered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

With a gentle smile, he spoke softly, his voice barely overheard over the pitter-patter of the rain. "Missed you."

"i-are you out of your mind? It's dangerous" you whisper-yelled

"I'll be fine." Anakin said, holding tight on your window to not slip down your roof. "just had to see you."

"my dad will kill you--"

"He won't if you keep quiet." Anakin joked as he fully lifted his body through the window, now standing in your room. The floor got damp from his dripping clothes. With a soft huff, he pushed his soaked hair from his face, the strands plastered to his forehead.

The sight made you cross your arms and let out a small scoff "I can't believe you literally climbed up to my window."

Anakin let out a quiet chuckle and his eyes roamed over your figure before his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. He smirked as he quipped, "Wouldn't have done it if you weren't grounded, Rapunzel."

"That's not my fault."

With his arms encircling you completely, Anakin held you snuggly against his chest, the cold dampness of his shirt seeping through your clothes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle and tender gesture. "I know," he whispered with a smile "I missed you a lot tho"

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you eat his food, even though he has enough of your food-mood changes sometimes

Sweetheart!Anakin who's a true gentleman to you

Sweetheart!Anakin who's writing you love letters at least few times in a month. He enjoys every time pouring all of his emotions towards you on paper. There's something fulfilling in this, knowing he gives you a small testament of his love

Sweetheart!Anakin who often competed with you for fun in different categories. Of course with making sure you always lose. Would distract you on purpose while you two play Mario Kart or compete in baking

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you cuddle to him while he plays with his friends;

Your eyes followed Anakin diligently as he immersed himself in the game, his fingers dancing across the buttons and keys. Boredom slowly crept in, prompting you to set down your phone and shift toward him. With a quick movement, you silently crawled from the cozy bed and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, the clicky sound of his fingers against the controller filling your ears.

As you leaned in to press a soft kiss against the exposed skin of his neck, you could feel Anakin's fingers instantly freeze on the buttons. He paused his actions and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours.

A sly grin stretched across his lips "What's up?"

"m'bored" you mumbled

Anakin's grin only widened and he reached up to pull one of your arms over his head, spinning the computer chair around in a swift move. Caught off guard, you stumbled forward, falling onto his lap and straddling his legs on the plush seat. It gave him the perfect excuse to place his hands on your waist, shifting and adjusting your position to make you more comfortable

"Bored, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery.

"don't make fun of me" you pouted

"Can't help it when you make it so easy, doll" Anakin leaned back in the chair and adjusted his grip on your lower back. With a firm tug, he pulled you closer, pressing your body firmly against his chest and elicited a slight gasp of surprise from your lips.

However this small moment of shared eye contact quickly ended when his friends' voices echoed through his headphones, calling out for his attention in the game. He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to adjust his headset back over his head.

"Sorry, sorry..I'm back" he muttered into the microphone, his finger pressing down on the comm button.

He started playing again, fingers moving rapidly on the controller as he shifted in the chair. He held you close against his chest, almost like you were his own personal pillow. The only time his hands would stray from the controls are when he would rub soothing and soft circles on your hips or thighs, pressing kisses on the top of your head

Sweetheart!Anakin who spend ten years building your dream house; including everything you wanted

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you random drawings time to time. All he'd need is a piece of paper with even smaller pencil. Often he draw you, founding you as his muse;

"What are you doing?" you whispered in his ear, your arms wrapping around his neck from behind. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat of his blush against your lips.

He startled, breaking from his thoughts as he was pulled back to reality. He looked at you, a light flush spreading across his face. His pencil continued to move across the page, tracing lines on your face. "Just drawing you," he replied, his voice soft.

"oh? am i the muse?" You teased quietly

He smirked. "More than that. You're a living work of art" Anakin murmured sincerely

You chuckled softly, reaching for his sketchbook with curiosity. But he held it firm, not letting you sneak a peek just yet.

"Ah, ah, ah" he said, his voice a blend of sweetness and teasing. "Not until I'm done, hm?"

"i thought you've already finished"

"Well, I'm not done yet," he said, his focus going back to the sketch

You leaned in closer, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear. "Can I at least see some of your other drawings?"

Knowing that you won't stop asking, he sighed "Yeah, of course," he murmured, releasing his grasp on the sketchbook to hand it over. "I mostly draw people I find interesting... or beautiful," he confessed.

You gently took the sketchbook, leafing through the pages with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The sketches all featured you - smiling, holding flowers, against scenic backdrops...always you. As you flipped through the portraits, a frown tugged at your lips.

"But there's only me here," you said, glancing up at him.

"Well, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. So it only makes sense that you're the subject of my art..You're my muse, my love, the source of my inspiration," he paused, and looked at you with a teasing gaze. "am I not allowed to draw what's mine?"

You ignored his comment, going through the pages when a sketch caught your eye - a drawing of you posed as Aphrodite- naked

Anakin smirked, watching you admire his work. The detailed background resembled a scene from Greek mythology, the delicate strokes of the pencil bringing the image to life. "Well...?" he inquired, his gaze teasing. "What do you think?"

After stumbling over your words, the only thing you could manage to say was, "I'm naked here."

Anakin's smile widened as he responded with a hint of admiration. "Yes, you are. But then again, you're a goddess. Shouldn't a goddess be portrayed in all her glory, after all?" He chuckled softly and teased, "Besides, I've had plenty of time to memorize the view." To which you shot him a glare

He paused then, concern flickering in his eyes as he leaned in a bit. "Do you not like it?" he asked softly, searching your face for a response.

"No- I love it," you replied, your voice still a bit flustered. "I just... didn't expect to see myself portrayed as Aphrodite."

The corners of Anakin's lips curled back into a smirk, his voice getting lower and deeper now. "Well, you're beautiful enough to be one," he murmured. "And you're certainly enough of an inspiration for me to draw you in such a way."

Anakin leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed on yours, his smirk growing more mischievous. "And perhaps... I wanted to show you how beautiful you truly are, without all that fancy clothes you always wear."

You smacked his shoulder "Ani!"

Anakin chuckled at your reaction. "hey, I’m just being honest!" He grinned widely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "You can’t tell me you’re not beautiful. You’re the embodiment of beauty to me."

Sweetheart!Anakin who waited with sex till marriage. He just found it as something special and as much as he loved you, he wanted to have his first time during the wedding night;

"you're so beautiful..so so beautiful..couldn't take my eyes off of you..so pretty, Mrs. Skywalker" he pressed gentle kissed on your neck before pulling away to watch your expression

he moaned lowly at your twisting in pleasure face, his hips rolling against yours in slow, almost torturing, painful way "such a pretty sounds you make.."

all you could do was moan and mewl as his member stretched your tight core "a-ani" you desperately held onto his arms, probably even digging your nails to his skin out of such intense feeling

he shivered at you saying his name like that. His large hands squeezed your flesh, hoping he doesn't do this too roughly. He wanted this to be pleasurable for not only him, but especially you. But oh how he tried to keep his self-control in check.. "you're..so.. tight.." he murmured while his eyes followed every inch of your face "damnit, is it gonna sound weird if I say that I imagined this moment already?"

you could barely comprehend any given information; your brain was focused on one thing and it was deep inside of you. So to not leave him without a response, you shaked your head

"good.." he panted as his hand moved to caress your cheek, his eyes scanning your face and trying to memorize it in this very moment "been dreaming of this for so so long.." this time he groaned, pushing his length even deeper inside of you to reach this particular sweet spot "feels better than my imagination"

your lips parted to let out the prettiest whimper "oh gods, just look at you.. you're a masterpiece.." he breathed, his hand tracing down to squeeze your jingling breast "you'll be the death of me, you know that?"

he was completely lost in this moment, it was obvious that it was hard for him to keep a steady, slow pace as his body screamed for you. "please tell me I'm not dreaming .." he begged "can't believe i have you now..forever..gods, I would lie if i said it was easy to wait..but damn, you feel even better knowing that I've waited"

he was getting more and more worked up, his breath coming in pants. he had to remind himself to keep the pace slow for your sake, but it was, again, getting very hard for him to do so. his hands roamed down to your hips to hold you in place "i can't get enough of you..I'll never get enough of you.."

"how do you feel?.." he asked, a desperate hint in his voice like he had a goal to make you feel heaven "I'm not being too rough, am I?"

"no..just..can you go..faster?" your voice came out as rather nervous and shy. So many years together, almost an entire life and in such intimate concept, you still felt a little bit conscious. Maybe because it's this desired first time?

his breath hitched at your words and he let out a loud exhale. with no more to add he did as you requested; his hips starting to thrust faster, harder "oh kriff.." he moaned his body shuddering from the overwhelming sensation of finally being with you like this "oh kriff, you feel so good.." his head fell to the side

With his urgent moves, you felt yourself going crazy. Your eyes rolled from pleasure that enveloped your whole body, your hands almost falling from his arms "i--something's happening" you whimpered

"f-fuck.." he groaned lowly as he felt you tighten around him..hard. He was a mess; his lips parted and his eyes a bit unfocused "oh kriff..oh stars..oh kriff.." he repeated, his body slightly shivering and his muscles tensing up as he moved faster, almost desperately trying to bring himself and you over the edge

"i think I'm close ani--"

"kriff, I'm too..I don't think I'll last much longer" he groaned, his dick pulsing around your core "..not with you squeezing..around me like that.."

Sweetheart!Anakin Who turns into a small boy when he's sleepy;

"Hug me until I smell like you" he murmured, nuzzling to your chest

It was normal for Anakin to be sleepy but there were days where he was super sleepy. His eyes fighting to keep open, his hands aching to wrap around your waist, in desperate need to be close to you. So how could you refuse him this pleasure of small needs? Your hand tangled in his curls while you scrolled through the words in your book

"I want to kiss you a lot, you know?" His voice muffled against your chest

"yeah?" your lips curled into a small smile

"yeah..you're my sun, my moon and all my starts.." his face nuzzled even more to your body as if you were his pillow

Sweetheart!Anakin who learned how to cook for you. His hands in a mix of flour, eggs and just everything to call his mom in the middle of the happening disaster in both pot and oven, hoping she'd ease his fear of his end

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @fuckmyskywalker @kenmaiica

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[machveil]

Do you have any favorite König fic recommendations? Love your art BTW 🩷

yes, anon… yes I do [gets choked up] come with me, I’ll show you some

I’ll share sfw and nsfw ones - nsfw below the cut! ALSO, please support the writers!! send them some love! likes, reblogs, comments, get up in their business about how good they are🎀✨ they deserve so much for writing amazing works

SFW (I’ll preface by saying PLEASE just go binge @gremlinmodetweeker’s blog, I’m begging you):

gremlinmodetweeker’s König of the Icks series is actually my favorite Tumblr series and I really recommend it: part 1, part 2, part 3 - I regularly go back and read these

I have a bias on how gremlinmodetweeker writes König in general so here’s some rapid fire suggestions: König having a big appetite, movie nights with König, König’s quirks, general König notes, and their general König Dump

from @notsomellowarchiveofchaos I suggest König with a stutter (poor man) and König making you a blanket

OKAY @writersdrug absolutely blew mind with early mornings with König, but also! their random König headcanons!

@tacticalprincess’s version of dry texter König is top tier

from @konigsblog, calling König cute and König’s lisp

please make sure to read content warnings (CW) and/or trigger warnings (TW)! your comfort comes first, check the fic before you read it<3

NSFW:

back to writersdrug! I have a handful of fics to recommend: König fucking you to sleep, random König headcanons, kissing König, period comfort, and riding

a handful of fics from konigsblog: König giving head (absolute top tier post), König’s stutter, boxers or briefs, Loser!König getting a hug (poor man), and König’s oral fixation

oh my god, also follow @ghostsangel because, oh man, they always hit. anyways, some of my favorites are on the kitchen floor and TouchStarved!König (oh my god)

@evilgwrl only writes bangers so… slobbery König (jesus christ) and Neighbor!König

last, but certainly not least, the wonderful @rowarn! tired König, König helping you after a rough day, overstimulated König absolutely going through it, back at it again with another overstimulated König post, and a double whammy to end it off on, König using you as a fidget toy and you using König as a fidget toy

[oneforthemunny]

Older!eddie, reacting to hearing both his girls swear for the first time for the blurb request 🤭

i'm assuming you're talking about brielle and delilah, so that's what i did haha! a little parallel type blurb since i know the older!eddie crowd loves it lmao. tw: gina

Seventeen Years Before

"Brie, where ya at, Munchkin?" Eddie's sing-songy tone floated through the small home, over the hum of his boombox in the window.

"In here!" Brielle's little chirp of a tone came from the other room, where she was 'cleaning up', which really meant moving her toys from in front of the TV to the hall.

Gina was gone for the day, and Eddie felt sick at the fact that he was so relieved. They'd been going through a rough patch, endless fighting and bitter remarks behind the toddler's back. So when Eddie had the rare Sunday off, he encouraged Gina to go out with her friends, promising he'd take care of everything.

"Can you come in here, please?" Eddie craned his neck to try and look into the living room, hands still elbow deep in dish water. "I need some help in here. You wanna dry for me?" Really, he wanted to make sure she hadn't somehow found the magic markers, scribbling on the walls again.

"Yes!" Brielle shrieked in laughter, tiny footsteps bounding on the carpeted floor towards the kitchen.

Eddie's head whipped around at the crashing sound, a solid thud that shook the doorframe. Brielle looked up at Eddie from the doorway, hands on the ground, braced from her fall.

"Oh, shit." Eddie muttered, shaking his sudsy hands off, wiping them on his shirt. "Uh-oh. Did you fall?" He tried to keep his voice level. He had learned if he freaked, then she would too.

Brielle looked up, face contorting with a grimace that looked freakishly similar to Gina's. Eddie cringed, crouching in front of her. "Let me see." He picked her up gently, turning her hands over. "No scratches. You're good. All good." His tone lifted, standing with a groan, the toddler on his hip.

"Sit up here and help me dry. Can you do that for me?" Eddie asked, grabbing the rag from the drawer, handing it to Brielle. "Hold it with two hands, alright?"

Brielle's little legs swung on the counter, carefully wiping down each dish Eddie would hand her, his hand hovering over the bottom in case she dropped it.

Eddie turned for a moment, going to finish the stack of sippy cups he hadn't washed out yet. "Are you excited to go to Grandpa's in a few days?" He hummed, looking over at Brielle.

Her face lit up, squealing with excitement, legs kicking faster. "Yes!" She squeaked, arms flinging the towel, knocking over a cup. It toppled before tipping over the side, Eddie's soapy hand splashing out of the water, barely catching it before it crashed.

Brielle's wide eyes met his, matching rounded expressions. "Oh, shit?" Brielle repeated, her tone so adorably soft that Eddie almost thought he heard her wrong.

"What?" Eddie gaped.

"Oh, shit?" Brielle repeated, a slight lisp, the word unfamiliar to her. "It falled?"

"No, no, no," Eddie shook his head, setting the mug down. "Jesus, no, Brielle, look at me." He tried to even out his tone. It would've been funny- really fuckin' funny, actually- if he didn't think Gina might kill him over this. Throw it back in his face and prove her point that he was already not a good father, like she already loved to do.

"You can't say that word." Eddie shook his head. "That's a bad word. A really bad word."

Brielle frowned in confusion. "You says it." She tilted her head to the side.

"I know, and I shouldn't say it." Eddie shook his head. He didn't even realize he'd said it, that she'd heard it. "Look, that's not a good word, ok? And if you say it..." He hesitated.

"If you say that word, Santa doesn't come to visit you." Eddie said seriously. Brielle's face dropped, eyes widening in horror. She was finally old enough to realize the magic of Santa, that he'd bring her toys, all kinds of toys - too many toys, thanks to Santa Wayne who insisted on spoiling her.

"That's why Daddy doesn't get gifts from Santa, because I say bad words." Eddie wasn't entirely sure he should say that, sure parenting books would go against that, but still, he was desperate for her not to say it in front of Gina.

Brielle's face fell, crumbling with fear. "I-I didn't means too!" She wailed, more dramatics than real tears.

"I know, hey, it's ok. You didn't know. That was Daddy's fault." Eddie cringed; definitely not the best thing to do. "It's ok. Now you know, so just don't say it anymore ok?" By some miracle, Brielle managed to forget the word, or at least not say it in front of Gina, which Eddie was beyond thankful for. At least that was one thing she didn't have on him, couldn't throw back in his face and guilt him with.

Seventeen Years Later

"Ed!" You called, flinging through the racks of clothes in the closet. "Eddie! Did you make sure to pack her floaties?"

"Yes, honey." Eddie called back, dragging the next suitcase down the hall towards the front door. "I put two pairs in the beach bag."

"And sunscreen?" You leaned back, eyeing him from your place in the closet.

"Also in the beach bag." Eddie nodded.

"Uh, your sunscreen." You glared at him lightly. "You better make sure that SPF 70 is in there, Munson."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "It is." He grumbled, leaning on the doorframe of the closet, arms crossed over his chest. "Even if it's not, I'll be alright. Never used it before-"

"-And that's why you had to have that place cut off." You glared at him with finality. "Your derm told you to use that, so you better use it, Edward. I'll hold you down and spray it on you if I have to."

Eddie grinned, lines by his eyes crinkling gently. "Don't tempt me with a good time, bunny." He growled lowly, playfully pinching your ass.

You jumped, rolling your eyes at him lightly. "Lilah!" You yelled down the hall. "Do you have your tablet charged? It's a loooong ride, baby. Make sure you've got your charger."

"Okay!" The five year old called back. "I have it in my backpack!"

"Good. Can you bring your backpack here so Daddy can take it out to the car?" You nodded, looking over at Eddie. "Check her bag and make sure."

"I got it." Eddie nodded. "Relax, sweetheart. If we forget something, we'll just stop and get it when we get there."

"I know, I just hate that feeling. I feel like I'm forgetting something, and it's driving me fuc- crazy." You cut yourself off with a small smile, Delilah's bright backpack entering the room before she did. "Thank you, Lilah. Do you want to go potty before we leave one last time?"

Eddie unzipped the backpack, looking in it. "Hm, I don't see your ear phones. Did you pack them?"

"Oh, shit. I forgot." Delilah said flippantly, jumping off the bed. "I'll go get them!"

You and Eddie paused, stunned at the ease and the accuracy that she said. "Did she- you heard that too?" You whispered, eyes wide in shock.

Eddie's lips twitched, swallowing back a smirk. "Yeah." He snickered.

"Eddie!" You gasped. "Don't encourage that." Your own lips were curling, trying to keep your stern composure.

"I'm sorry! But you gotta admit, that's a little funny." Eddie laughed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"She used it correctly too." You rubbed your temples, swallowing back your own smile. "That's somehow worse."

Eddie giggled into his hands, ducking into the closet to compose himself. "Holy shit, never been prouder in my life." He laughed teasingly.

You smacked his shoulder lightly, lips pressed in a tight line. "You're so immature." You shook your head. "Wonder where she got it from." You glared at him lightly, sending him into another fit of giggles.

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[gottawhump]

Dogs

115

CW/TW: pet whump, BBU/WRU, noncon, drugging, starvation, food mention, vomit mention, biting. Multiple whumpers?

He shivers in the locked cage, in the cellar. The thin, coated wires bite into his skin. No blanket to warm him or to provide a bit of comfort.

Comfort is earned.

Warmth is earned.

Food is earned.

The owner graces him with a bottle of water each day. It’s bitter, and makes him sleepy, so that he wakes aching with a throbbing headache.

There’s shouting upstairs. Two voices, hers quieter but still raised, and the owner’s, enraged. Hard shoes stomping on the floor. Then down the stairs.

A few clicks, and the cage door opens. He lifts his head, and the owner clips a leash to his collar.

“You want to go out so badly? Come on.”

He’s allowed to sit in the passenger seat this time, and he looks out the window, unable to stop gaping at the unfamiliar sights.

The owner laughs. “If I rolled down the window, you’d stick your head out like some stupid mutt.”

He stares out at the city lights, and the night.

“Come on.” The owner tugs hard at the leash, dragging him forward into the dingy warehouse.

Inside, he blinks under the bright lights. There’s crowds of people here, cheering and yelling.

As they get closer, some greet the owner by name, slapping him on his back. In the circle, 115 hears snarling and growling. Then a scream. A breath of silence, followed by curses and cheers.

“Pretty lapdog you’ve got there, Did you bring him for bait?”

“Nah, I’m going to want him back. Though I’d lend him to the club as a reward bitch.”

An active participant in my owner’s desires. If there was anything in his stomach, he’d throw up, adding a new stain to the old concrete surrounding him. If there was some way to run, he’d run.

The only times he spent in the Facility clinic were after being given to Guard Dogs.

Fighting Dogs lost a lot of the inhibitions built into Guard Dogs, he’s heard. That’s why they were illegal.

He turns his head as the door opens. A big, bloodied man comes in, a slow smile spreading across his face when he sees 115. “Go ahead and run. I like it when they run.”

He runs, useless in the small space. He’s caught, tackled to the floor, sharp teeth pricking his throat. He screams as his arm is twisted hard behind his back. Knees spread his legs apart.

This is only the first one.

The owner helps him into the car, tossing a rough blanket over him and buckling him in. His eyes are too swollen to let him see the rising dawn out the window.

Before they get home, there’s a stop, and then the owner tosses a hot paper bag in his lap. His stomach growls at the smell.

At home, the owner points to the guest bedroom. “Go clean yourself up. You can use warm water. Eat, then sleep. Don’t bleed on the sheets.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” The words come out with a bit of a lisp, over his split lips.

“Maybe now you’ll appreciate how easy you have it, little whore. Maybe now you’ll be grateful.”

Old Friends taglist: @painful-pooch @justplainwhump @redwingedwhump @maracujatangerine @honeycollectswhump @tragedyinblue

[bloody-cupcakes]

Manipulative yandere! Veronica Sawyer x gn reader

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, Veronica is a very manipulative yandere but we love her anyway, Kurt and Ram mentioned along with their typical gross behavior, mentions of death/murder, brief argument between Veronica and JD that the reader overhears, slight swearing

A/N: this is for the lovely alligator anon who wanted either headcanons or a fic with manipulative yandere Veronica. I felt bad they had to wait for so long so I ended up writing both to make up for it (the original ask + the headcanons I wrote can be found here) hope you enjoy 💚

Veronica was a great girlfriend, and she loved you, sure, but she also had a bit of a mean streak about her. You brushed it off at first, chalking it up to Heather Chandler and her control, but when her behavior seemed to get worse even after Heather's death you started to become suspicious, especially of her new "friend" JD.

Whenever your brought up your concerns, though, she either rolled her eyes and scoffed or became almost condescendingly worried about you. In either case, you were brushed off as if your thoughts didn't matter much.

"I'm telling you, Veronica, this JD guy seems like bad news," you insisted as you trailed behind her through the hallways of Westerberg High, flinching when you heard jeering from Kurt and Ram over your clothing choice.

"He's nothing to worry about, you're overreacting." Veronica shot the jocks a dirty look while her lips curled up into an angry scowl at the unwanted attention they'd been giving you. "Hey, I just remembered I have to help my mom with something tonight, is it okay if you hang out with Heather McNamara instead of me?"

"What does she need help with? Maybe I can tag along!" You came across as a little desperate for attention, but in your defense you'd been craving some alone time with Veronica recently since she'd been distracted and more focused on JD than you.

"Sorry, but not this time."

Your shoulders slumped at her words and dismissive behavior. You just wanted to spend some time with your girlfriend, was that really so wrong?

"But-"

"I have to go, okay? I'll catch up with you later." With that, she left, making a beeline for the opposite direction.

"Bye," you mumbled out sadly as you watched her leave, quickly scurrying to your next class the moment you saw Kurt and Ram heading in your direction.

After school, you went over to Veronica's place in hopes that maybe she wasn't as busy as she'd claimed to be, but you didn't find her there. Her parents told you she had a school project to do with JD, and that's why she was gone.

You cried yourself to sleep that night in her bed, as her parents didn't have the heart to tell you to go back home and wait for her there. When you woke up the next day, everything seemed normal, until the sound of two people arguing suddenly cut through the air.

"Just forget about them! They're getting in the way of what we've set out to do," a deep male voice hissed, one that you recognized almost immediately as JD from the slight lisp and arrogance in his tone.

"No, I'm not going to 'just forget about them'! I care about them, they're one of the reasons why I'm doing this in the first place." You perked up at the second voice, immediately knowing it to be your girlfriend. "I need to protect them from all the awful people we're trying to get rid of."

If either of them knew you were there, they didn't show it, not even bothering to question the random lump under the blankets. You stayed quiet, listening in so you could hopefully find out what they were fighting over.

"They're starting to ask questions, and pretty soon it's going to lead to them finding out about something they're not supposed to, I just know it." JD didn't exactly seem like he was completely stable judging from his panicked voice and the way he kept pacing back and forth. "We should just get rid of them while we still have the chance."

"I said, no. I can handle it," Veronica snapped in a harsh tone, something that caused you to jump slightly. You could've sworn their eyes flickered over to you for a split second, but when they didn't acknowledge it you figured it must've just been a trick of the light. "We had a deal, remember? I'd help you with faking the suicides as long as you stayed away from the people I actually cared about."

JD let out an annoyed scoff, backing up some as he looked her up and down in a judgmental manner. "You're joking, right? You do realize that sometimes plans have to change?"

"Not this one," she insisted as she took a few steps towards him, refusing to back down.

The two glared at each other for a moment before he let out a huff of disbelief. "God, I can't believe you. You're really willing to risk everything we've accomplished for one person?"

She placed her hands on her hips and nodded. "You're damn right I am."

JD rolled his eyes at her before turning to leave from out the window. "Fine. I'll hold up my end of the bargain, so long as you hold up yours." With that, he quickly slipped out and was gone. The sound of a motorcycle revving up could be faintly heard through the window, which he'd purposely left ajar.

Veronica shut the window and headed downstairs, which would've given you the perfect chance to sneak out through her window if you weren't so worried about JD showing up again. You fell back asleep while trying to decide what to do about the conversation you'd overheard, not waking up again until much later.

Your girlfriend had you pulled into her lap as she hummed softly, her hand gently caressing her face. "Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted casual, as if nothing was out of the usual. "Or good afternoon, more like. You slept through lunch."

"Mrgh..." You groaned while sitting up, blinking a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room. "Is JD still here?" The thought suddenly popped into your head that he might not have left the first time like you thought he had.

"Of course not, silly. He never was."

It was hard to hide the way your features contorted into a look of sleepy confusion at her words. "But... you two were fighting... about something..." You tried to protest, not thinking clearly enough to realize you probably shouldn't have admitted to knowing about their conversation.

"Whatever you think you heard, you didn't, okay? I'm sure you just had a bad dream." Veronica's voice was still soft on the surface, but it had a slight edge to it, as if she was trying to subtly tell you to drop the subject.

Still, you persisted. "No, I know what I heard. The two of you were standing there, and you were arguing over something to do with me. I'm certain of it."

Her eyes darkened as her tone became a lot firmer than before. "You don't know what you heard. You've been asleep ever since I came back alone earlier today."

The way she was speaking kind of scared you. Sure, you'd heard her speak up to people before, but it was usually a bully of some kind, maybe even one of the Heathers who was trying to push her around. Never before had she talked like that to you, certainly not when you were just asking a question. At that point you knew it was best to just let it go than risk making her mad at you.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I must've just dreamt it," you mumbled reluctantly, not wanting to argue.

She smiled as her eyes softened again, her tone returning back to normal. "Of course you did. Now, why don't you stay here while I get you something to eat, okay? I'm sure you must be starving."

There were so many different questions you wanted to ask her, but part of you was scared about the consequences that asking them might bring. Then again, you were probably just overthinking it in the first place.

There was absolutely no way your girlfriend could be involved in any sort of criminal activity. Although the statement she made about helping JD "fake the suicides" did make your stomach churn, she was right, it must've just been something you imagined.

Heather Chandler killed herself, not Veronica and JD, you were certain of it. And the bodies of Kurt and Ram that would soon be later found were clearly also just suicides, nothing unusual about them at all.

So why did you get the feeling that this was just the beginning?

[anakinstwinklebunny]

DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE'S A TUNNEL UNDER OCEAN BLVD?

TW: angst

The day Vinnie passed away, SAM MONROE felt his heart collapse in ways he didn’t think were possible. His life had already been torn apart once—losing you after childbirth, holding your lifeless hand while your baby boy let out his first cry. Now, that same boy, his little Sam Junior, was gone as well.

It all started with a small fever. Nothing dramatic at first, just Vinnie’s soft, sleepy murmurs and flushed cheeks. Sam had thought it was just a cold, something a little Tylenol and his mom’s warm compresses could fix. He’d carried Vinnie downstairs to his mother, who cooed at her grandson and tried her best to soothe him.

But when the fever didn’t break, when Vinnie’s tiny body burned hotter and hotter, Sam panicked. His mother called 911, and the ambulance came, for Sam, in the slowest way possible.

He walked fast after paramedics, asking questions that hadn't have answers yet. Tears spilled from his eyes, watching how they didn't let him inside the ambulance. Mother's arms around his shoulders, sobs getting through their throats, before Sam run hopelessly after the car

In the cold emergency room, surrounded by nurses who avoided his eyes, Sam held his lifeless son. Vinnie’s small and puffy hand, the same one that used to tug on Sam’s long sleeves and reach for his hair, was limp and pale. Sam wept openly, his shoulders shaking as he kissed Vinnie’s cold forehead, wishing for the warmth that was no longer there.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just whispering to his son:

“I’m sorry, bud… I’m so sorry baby boy”

The words fell out of him without thought, spilling smoothly from his shaky, swollen lips “I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve done more. I—”

His voice cracked.

Vinnie wouldn’t hear him - not anymore. His baby boy would never call him this adorable, lisped 'baba' again or laugh at his silly voices, faces

When Sam’s mom finally pried Vinnie’s body from his arms, he felt hollow, like everything tethering him to life had been severed.

What was the point of living anymore? If everything was taken from him? Everything he ever loved and cared for, what made him a better man..

Sam’s world became full of blur condolences he didn’t want to hear and the haunting, disgusting silence of an empty house. Every corner was reminding him of Vinnie. The small dinosaur pajamas still hanging in the laundry. The tiny sneakers he tripped over every morning. The colorful plastic plates on the kitchen counter, ready to be used for another set of waffles and blueberries

He couldn't bring himself to touch any of it.

Sam stopped sleeping in his bed because Vinnie’s baby monitor was still on his nightstand, blinking red in cruel irony. Instead, he found himself sleeping on the couch, holding one of Vinnie’s stuffed animals like a lifeline.

And the dreams… God, the dreams were the worst. Dreams where Vinnie was laughing, where Sam was chasing him around the park or lifting him up to touch the sky. Dreams that felt so real, too real. He could swear he smelled baby shampoo in the air when he woke up. Yet when his eyes opened, the only thing that was there was the cold, dark house and the image of his mother making breakfast for his stepbrothers.

And those questions - are you okay? I'm so sorry you've went through this, it must be terrible. Well, he's in a better place right now, if it'll help you, Sam - these stupid questions repeating all.the.damn.time

The smallest coffin in the world lay before him. Sam stood frozen, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, fingers trembling, digging into his skin back and forth to stop the escaping tears

He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye.

Instead, he knelt on the damp ground and pressed his forehead against the coffin’s edge, letting his tears stream down his face

“You were my everything, kid,” he whispered brokenly. “My little dude. My Sam Junior.”

His voice cracked as he choked out, “I hope—" he took a shaky breath, as if he was choking on his own emotion "I hope I was enough for you. I tried, bud. I really tried... But hell, I don’t know how to do this without you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Vinnie’s favorite toy—a small, battered Hot Wheels car. He placed it gently on the coffin. “Take it with you, okay? You’ll need something to play with up there.”

Sam couldn’t bring himself to leave until his mother gently tugged him back, her arms wrapped tightly around his shaking frame.

Grief consumed Sam every day. He rarely spoke, barely ate. The world felt like it had lost its color, unless it was drugs he took in. Yet, the pleasure of being free was only temporary. And now, he was a teenage dad who had loved too deeply, and now, he had nothing left on this earth what was truly his.

Sometimes, very rarely (because it was too painful to even look at the grave of his favorite little man for over a second), went back to visit you, and Vinnie - his heart screaming when he saw the love of his life laying right next to the boy she had never had the chance to meet

“I’ll see you again, buddy. I promise. Take care of your mom up there. Tell her I miss her too.”

And in the quietest moments, when the tears wouldn’t come anymore, Sam would close his eyes and imagine Vinnie’s and your laugh, holding onto it as tightly as he could - believing he'd see you both again after the main life - here on this earth

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @rssmary @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

(if you don't want to be on the tag list of want to be added, don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[spacesapphi]

HES Trio Headcanon Time! (HCs below the cut, this is a long one)

TW for mentions of bullying, death, parental death, car accident, drinking, and neglect

Elliot

- he's 30yrs old and 6'0, very lanky and tall and covered in freckles. His hair is curly too!

- HC for his voice has to be Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, just has that romantic voice that fits him so well

- his family is of Irish descent and his last name is Lillis, which he finds sounds VERY romantic!

- growing up he was so obsessed with classical literature that he would often pretend his life was a novel, narrating his daily life in his head

- LOVESSSS pride & prejudice, Phantom of the Opera, and Les Mis, he'll talk your ear off about them if you let him

- was unfortunately bullied a lot for his interests growing up, even at home. He tried not to let it dampen his spirit, but it was difficult. He channels a lot of that pain into his writing

- his parents never really respected his hobbies, and his brothers weren't that kind in general. Elliot often felt alone in his house, like he was a misunderstood outcast that didnt have anyone. One of his favorite book series as a kid was Anne of Green Gables, as he connected to her feeling out of place and different from everyone around her

- pretty much canon, but he's a lightweight. One drink and he's GONE. Hes gets silly and giggly when he's drunk too

- he's autistic (I feel like everyone in the HES trio is) and his special interest is around literature, specifically romance literature. Anytime he sees something notable happen in town, or a couple do anything he goes "Oh this is just like x character in x book!" And he'll infodump about the story to anyone who will listen (usually Leah or Penny)

- he gets along well with Penny and shes actually been his test reader and editor for many of his published pieces! He always puts her name in the "special thanks" section

- takes much pride in his appearance, especially his hair. Before the farmer arrived he was the one practically keeping Pierre in business for self care products because he REFUSED to go to Joja bc "Do you know how many CHEMICALS are in those things?!"

- maladaptive daydreamer for sure. He gets frustrated with the way he cant stop daydreaming, and how music always seems to intensify it. On one hand, it gives him ideas for his writing, on the other it makes it hard for him to interact with others. When he's home alone in his cabin, Finding him pacing around, listening to his favorite CDs and records is common

- his love language is sentimental gifts. They don't need to be elaborate or expensive grand gestures. If you mention loving a certain food he'll make it for you, he'll get you things in your favorite color just to make you smile. Hes a very sweet man!

- he has a beautiful laugh!

- wears dangly earrings all the time. He likes very sparkly ones with jewels, ones that make him feel like he's in a romantic period piece. He has a killer collection of them!

Harvey

- he's 35yrs old and 6'2, though you can't tell because he's often slouched over (bad habit, he knows. His back hurts all the time). He's a chubby guy too, which makes him feel self conscious, but he learns to love himself :)

- My HC for his voice is Simon Petrikov, specifically the way he speaks in Fiona and Cake, I cannot imagine it any differently LMAO

- Harveys family is of Italian descent and his last name is Russo!

- grew up with just his mom and grandpa. His mom was a doctor and his grandpa was a retired pilot who helped spark his love for flying. He died when Harvey was 12, leaving some model planes and that radio he keeps in his office to him with a note telling him to always reach for the skies.

- Harvey has a bit of a lisp, and spent a lot of time in speech therapy as a kid. Words with lots of "s" sounds are tricky for him

- he actively went through so much testing to be a pilot, but when he got to the actual flight test where he had to get into a plane he got so anxious he threw up and ran away

- he realized then and there that he couldnt do it, and it was a hard reality to face. A lot of crying, and a lot of struggling to accept his dream wasn't attainable. He felt like he was letting his grandpa down, but his mom promised he wasn't

- when he decided to go to medical school, he couldn't decide what his focus was going to be to save his life, he changed it constantly. It took about two years to land on primary care physician and even then he still kept researching other tracks. This would come in hand once he got to pelican town and became the only doctor

- often too exhausted to cook for himself, which is why he buys so much processed food. Shane gives him a lot of shit for it every time he sees him at JojaMart ("don't say SHIT to me at my next checkup if you're going to buy that")

- his eyesight is so bad. He can't see a foot in front of him without his glasses. He's also incredibly clumsy and falls and breaks them often (I mean where did you THINK all those broken glasses you were fishing up were from?)

- like Elliot, was a victim of bullying in school, especially highschool :( Nerdy guy with a plane interest that stuck to himself was unfortunately a prime target, and he found himself in a rough situation. It actually got so bad that he took a special test to be able to graduate early so he didn't have to deal with it anymore. He passed it in tenth grade, and put all his energy into studying to be a pilot until he was old enough to join courses for it

- his mom was his biggest advocate, and was regularly down at his school to yell at administration for letting the bullying get that bad. She loved her son more than anything and would do anything for him. She was the one to suggest testing out of school, not wanting him to go through all of that for years.

- hes still close with his mom, and they regularly call and write letters to each other to keep up. Since Harvey lives so far now, they mostly meet up on important days like birthdays, holidays, and to go visit his grandfather's grave every once in a while

Shane

- he's 30yrs old and 5'7, and he hates both of those facts. Being the shortest man in town and one of the oldest single ones is a bit of a blow to his self esteem. He's pretty bulky too, a combination of muscle from working on the ranch and as a stocker, and fat from drinking and diet

- I go back and forth on his voice HC constantly, but I like the common fan interp of him sounding kinda like Nick Miller from new girl, it fits too well

- Shane is Pennsylvania Dutch on his mothers side and his last name (along with Marnies) is Yoder!

- that being said he knows very little of the PA Dutch language, though Marnie speaks it fluently. He has a bit of an accent from growing up with her

- croc wearer, don't tell me otherwise. He has a few everyday pairs, a fur lined pair for when it gets cold, and what he calls his "formal Crocs" (literally just black Crocs with bowtie jibbits this man is so fucking corny). He has normal shoes too, like sneakers and boots for the winter and work, but nothing beats his Crocs

- Jas has tried to call him dad a few times, but it makes him sad. He doesn't feel good enough to deserve that title, and he feels like he'd be disrespecting his friends by trying to take it over.

- Was in the accident that killed her parents. They took him out to celebrate his 25th birthday, going to a Tunnelers game. They were hit by a reckless driver going far above the speed limit on the way back home, and he was the only one who made it. One moment Shane was having the time of his life with his best friends in the world, the next he's waking up in the hospital finding out they're gone. As a result, his birthday has become a bit of a sore subject, hence why he "was hoping he'd forget" anytime he gets a birthday gift

- his leg got really hurt in the accident, and though its healed, he still often needs compression braces to deal with chronic pain from it. Working at Joja and on the ranch aren't exactly low impact after all

- Marnie is his only bio family thats alive and on speaking terms with him. She practically raised him for the most part, with his dad gone and mother having passed when he was little. His mother was Mona, the same Mona from the cemetery. She was Marnies twin sister, and the photo in secret note 11 is her and baby shane.

- He and Emily were childhood bestfriends growing up, and dated in highschool. They realized after about a year that they just worked better as friends though, and remain besties to this day

- he's transgender he told me himself

- Marnie was also incredibly supportive of his transition and she's fiercely protective of him. He may technically be her nephew but she sees him more as a son and thus goes full mama bear when it comes to him

- even though he doesn't take great care of himself, he makes sure jas is well taken care of, especially after he starts recovery. His clothes may be threadbare and worn, and he may look like he hasn't slept in a year, but Jas will *always* have everything she could ever need... and want. Ngl he kinda spoils her a little, especially after he cuts back and can afford it more. He feels bad saying no to her given all that she's gone through. She has a doll collection that could make the most avid collectors jealous

- he makes sure he spends time with her too, taking days off for festivals because she wants him there, taking the day off for her birthday, and trying his best to be there for her. It's an upward struggle for him to get better so he can be there for her, but he's trying

- after Joja closes down, Marnie offers him a full time job at the ranch, including pay and board. He takes the offer IMMEDIATELY, and does an amazing job at it. She's certain she'll be leaving the ranch to him once she's retired

- if you want to get him to do anything, tell him him it involves chickens in some way. Chickens are his special interest for SURE. Chicken print socks, corny puns, joke tshirts, he has it all. He practically becomes the organizer of the Egg Festival yearly once he's started recovery, putting a crazy amount of work into it to make sure it goes well. Same with the Valley Fair's petting zoo. The amount of pride he gets talking about the animals to tourists is unmatched, and it's one of the few times Marnie gets to see him look as happy as he did before the accident. Those moments are fleeting, but everytime she can see that light in his eyes she feels like everything will be ok.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Lmao what’s this? I’m back with more Creepypasta headcanons, this time for Eyeless Jack.

TW for the following: graphic descriptions of cannibalism/murder/gore, depictions of drug abuse, lacing food with sharp objects, body horror, and generally anything you’d expect from horror.

THERE ARE NO CENSORS BEYOND THIS POINT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY DISTRESS CAUSED BY MY WRITING.

Eyeless Jack Headcanons

He/they

Obviously no longer human

Still has a humanoid-ish body

“Died” around 2011, physically 22

Dark gray skin with a faint blue-ish tint

His blood is black. Like it’s basically oil or tar now. Moves much slower and is thicker than normal blood. He hasn’t checked but he’s pretty sure all his organs share the same color and viscosity now. Like that one breed of chicken with black organs y’know?

Long ears

Lots of sharp teeth. Practically a shark mouth

Y’know what, I like you. Gives your EJ a jaw that unhinges, a mouth that rips open, and a second jaw further back in his mouth (eel jaw EJ supremacy)

3+ long black tongues depending on his mood and how well fed they are

Because of the multiple mouth appendages he has a soft lisp and often accidentally bites his tongues since they move involuntarily

Eyes are constantly leaking the black sludge. Clothing/face/belongings are always sticky

Constantly salivating the same substance, just thinner/more liquidy

Wears a surgical mask under his regular mask to combat it

Very good sense of smell

Seriously he could smell a specific blood type in the middle of a massacre of a shit ton of bodies

Can’t swim

Reddish-brown wavy hair, forgets to cut it sometimes so he sometimes has a fluffy mullet

Claws that can’t retract

Wears a black trench coat and dark gray turtleneck when actually going out and doing shit, the black hoodie is lounge clothes

Has a tail!!!! Closest resemblance to a lion tail, but larger

Lots of catlike/animal like behaviors unconsciously. Will sit on any elevated surface

Purrs like holy fuck the first time someone hears him do it they freak out

Can also growl and hiss

Despite the animalistic behaviors and feral demeanor he isn’t above being civilized

Mostly calm. Gets the zoomies after eating tho

And by zoomies I mean he’s more excitable and extroverted for a little while

Has probably ran around the woods like a maniac at least once tho

Besides Nurse Ann, he’s the most medically competent of the pastas. People usually go to him for more major injuries or sicknesses

Despite his constant orifice leakage he tries to be as clean as possible

His lab is SPOTLESS

somehow figured out a way to dilute his face goop to clean it better. No one knows how he does it tho

Is still very much a nerd. Loves reading any kind of book he can get his hands on

Starts going blind if he doesn’t satiate his hunger for flesh and organs

If he goes blind before getting food, he’s able to use echolocation pretty damn well

Can also see thermal outlines of stuff if his vision starts going

Eyes aren’t reflective so it’s pretty funny when he’s gargoyling somewhere in the manor in pitch black and someone walks in and gets startled by him sitting there staring into the void

HOW are his footsteps so silent

Dude you’re 5”8 and have a stockier build how do you not make floorboards creek

Can eat normal food, but poses no nutritional value to him

Can halfway survive off raw animal meat in emergencies, but doesn’t give him enough energy for long

Only fully kills someone about once a month, the rest of the time he’s able to meticulously and stealthily steal a kidney from unsuspecting victims without incident

Not that he hates killing or anything like that, he’s just as violent as the rest of the freaks

But he HATES the feeling of losing control he often gets when he indulges the violent urges. So he holds himself back most of the time

Besides murder and organ harvesting he often goes out to steal medical supplies from houses and smaller town clinics

Remember him being a nerd? Likes to impress people with gross biology trivia. Most are about the human body but he knows a ton of animal facts too

“Did you know flies and roaches can still live without their heads” type shit

Can’t cook for shit. He’s not allowed in the kitchen period after one of his organ jars exploded in the fridge due to air pressure bs. Ruined all the food in there

Stores his organs in four different mini fridges in his room and lab

Kidneys give him the most energy but he enjoys flesh more than organs when it comes to taste

His favorite is cheek meat and anything involving the neck

Loves to burst the carotid artery and mess around with the blood like a sprinkler toy

Gives the bones of any corpse he fully consumes to Slender. Has no idea what he needs the bones for but never cares to ask

Friends/close with Ben, Helen, Liu, Ann, Masky, and Hoody

Has a tolerable relationship with Jeff, Kagekao, Slenderman, the Puppeteer, Jane, and Clockwork

Doesn’t get along with/hates LJ and Nina

Sally is TERRIFIED of him. Y’know cause little kids are scared of the doctor and whatnot. He tries his best to be as unintimidating as possible when around her but she still prefers Ann over him

HATES being called EJ. It’s a horrible nickname. What if he walked up to you and called you legless Larry after cutting off your legs?

Abrosexual

Loves loves loves LOVES doing dissections/vivisections. Has somehow been able to convince or bribe the other undead and non human mansion inhabitants to let him do a vivisection on them at least once.

Ben enjoyed it the most because he’s a freak like that

“And this is your heart” “gross……. can I poke it” “yeah ok”

Is unfortunately able to understand the corrupt scripts of [REDACTED] thanks to the ritual that took his eyes and life. Tries his best to ignore it.

Nightmare haver! Is too stubborn to go to someone like Ben or Slender to get them less frequently even though both could easily help him

Kind of an insomniac anyways but since his face is almost always covered no one notices the eye bags

Usually takes the top layer mask off around his friends, or if the other masked pastas take theirs off around them as a sign of mutual trust

Surgical mask on their face stays on constantly unless eating or doing anything privately

Has to keep the meds locked up because Ben, Masky, and Jeff have drug problems

“STOP trying to get high off Benadryl it’s not even allergy season anymore you don’t need it”

Not a “dad” character he just doesn’t like wasting resources like that

Doesn’t care about the actual habits JUST STOP STEALING HIS MEDS

LJ for some reason keeps stealing any of his used needles and scalpels. Jack’s best bet is he puts the sharp objects in candy. Gross.

He’s befriended Seedeater the same way a zookeeper befriends a large dangerous animal

Both have a mutual understanding Seed is NOT a pet

It hasn’t even let them pet or touch it

Does follow him closely like a dog whenever he walks through the forest for any reason

Jack has witnessed it take down and decapitate a bear with a single bite before

If he ever has leftovers or parts of corpses about to go bad that they can’t eat himself, they feed it to Seed

Has a small collection of the black fur and feathers that naturally shed from Seed’s body

Also collects other odd things like animal bones or human teeth

His favorite weird thing they’ve collected is a taxidermied axolotl stolen from a victim’s home

Is also super blunt

Not out of malice, he just has a very technical straightforward way of thinking

Always asks anyone for consent when doing anything physical like medical procedures or even just nudging someone out of the way if he’s trying to get somewhere

HATES being touched without their permission or knowledge

Will bite if provoked. Will bite as a warning too

[pink-crayon-princess]

Great news! Made some progress with the inner child healing … and I think I ACTUALLY regressed positively! 🌸

tw: autistic childhood exclusion

I was playing with my new Princess dolls. I told myself I wanted to dive more into childhood trauma with my regression, so I bit the bullet and played pretend that Ariel was being excluded by Tiana and Rapunzel because she played differently than them. Then she got frustrated when trying to fit in and had a meltdown.

Her mom came to comfort her as she took a while to come around. After she felt okay again, they went to rejoin the other girls and their moms, but I wasn’t really sure what to say next … how was I going to make the three girls be friends?

So I asked God about it. Man, I’ve never babbled that much in my life, and that’s why I think I was seriously regressed. I had a lisp, I was stimming a lot, and I could NOT shut up for like fifteen minutes 🤣 I just told Him about how Rapunzel was super cute and quirky so everybody loved her, and Tiana had a great handle on her adult life, but Ariel was so different from the societies she was meant to be in. Besides Eric, she didn’t really fit in either world at the end of her story.

I was feeling pretty lonely at that point and I was crying a little, so I asked Him if He could say something nice about me. He said,

“All these toys you’re surrounded with are great … but you’re the real prize, Bug.”

(But of course, He called me by my real name.)

“Do you love me, Abba?”

“Honey, I died for you.”

He asked me to name some things that I did like about Ariel. I rattled some off. She was kind, and pretty, and smart. Then he asked me to name some nice things about myself. I did.

Then He told me to give Ariel a kiss and tell her that I loved her, that people love her for her, and that she doesn’t have to feel bad for being herself or having needs.

“Not everyone is going to love you, Bug,” God said, “But I do.”

Eventually Ariel was able to rejoin her friends, who learned about autism and incorporated her way of playing into their game. They had a great time, and so did I.

Never thought I’d be gentle parented by the Lord, but I’m not complaining.

This is what I mean when I say you gotta let God into your regression, y’all. He’s the best cg ever.

I’m really happy about today because 1. I actually regressed, 2. it was a positive experience, and 3. I feel like that interaction with God really healed something. As emotional as it was, I will definitely be attempting to do it again. :)