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#nightmare genders
mockerycrow · 11 months
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Love your works! May I please get a "don't worry, i'm not going anywhere." with Ghost? Take your time, I love what you write!
400 Follower Celebration
—“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”— With Ghost
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Summary: You’re apart of the 141 and Ghost recently had a near-death experience. You’ve been plagued with nightmares about the situation, but you try to hide it from him, feeling selfish about your night terrors. One night, you’re thoroughly convinced Ghost had actually died.
A/N: THANK YOUUU I KEEP BLUSHING ILY AND TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS
[WARNINGS: vomit, detailed nightmares, panic attack, gore, fake-death, angst, hurt/comfort.]
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It was always the same nightmare. It was a repeat of that one mission months ago—nearly a year ago by now, where you and your team went to grab some important intel about a new uprising cartel that was showing some dangerous potential. It was a large compound, four floors including the basement, wide rooms with many blind-spots. Using your rifle equipped with a heat signature sensor, you swept room to room, leading your team through the building, putting anyone down who dared fired a bullet at you or your team.
You turn that familiar corner and your heart sinks. You’ve tried many times to change the course of this dream, but no matter how frantically you try to scream about what is waiting on the other side of that door, your mouth refuses to work until Ghost rumbles out, “I’ll take point.” You try to fight every muscle in your body to stop this, but it’s like the dream freezes until you continue down the.. “right path”. Quite literally is a living fucking hell for you, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it except do what it wants you to do.
“Roger.” You mutter, backing up behind Ghost instead of staying in front of him and leading him the others. The others are always blank faced soldiers in this nightmare, but you know who is who. You pat his shoulder, aimming over him as you walk down the hall close together, hugging the wall. You’ve been through this so many times, you know to eye the floor and you watch the moment happen—Ghost steps on a pressure plate and—BOOM.
You’re always forced to watch it in slow motion; the wall being blown open right next to Ghost, watching the debris scatter everywhere, scraping yourself up as well as Ghost. He raises his arm to shield his face from whatever is happening, unable to process in time that a man wielding a sharp combat knife is pulling his arm back and comes down with it.
You watch the way the knife so easily slides into his rib cage, and it’s almost like you could hear it penetrating his lung like it did—but this time, the man rips the knife out and does it again and again and again—this has never happened before—Ghost’s falling to the ground, his blood splattering everywhere, fuck, it’s like the guy is trying to gut him—but you can’t move. You have to sit there and watch this man. plunge a knife in and out of Ghost’s chest until he finally decides to stab him deep and yank downwards, spilling his intestines and stomach—yet, his lifeless eyes keep eye contact the entire time.
Your eyes fly open, dizzy from your heart pounding and unable to focus, you throw the blanket off of you and you make your way out of whatever room you’re in—you’re too freaked out to know. Your chest aches and feels like there’s a hundred tons sitting on your rib cage, restricting your breathing. You keep walking until you bump into something and you manage to focus enough to notice it’s the bathroom door. Your hand shakily grabs the doorknob and opens it, and you already feel the vomit traveling up your throat.
You end up bent over the open toilet, body heaving with every exile of the contents of your stomach, which by this time of night is mostly just bile. Your head is spinning and your hands keep shaking and by this point, you really don’t care how clean this bathroom is. You lean your elbows on the toilet rim and hold your head in your hands, trying your best to stifle a sob, even though all you can smell and feel is his blood on your fingertips. Your tears drip down your cheeks and collect at your chin before dripping off.
You keep one arm on the toilet seat to keep your head propped up and the other goes around your stomach, which is twisting painfully inside of your gut, ripping another sob from you. You gag into the toilet, but you’ve already thrown everything you had inside. Your throat and nose burns from the stomach acid, but it doesn’t compare to the emotional pain of losing Ghost. You just stood there and watched him get gutted—why do you deserve to grieve when you could have prevented it in the first place? Someone killed the Ghost, and you let it fucking happen.
A large hand sprawls across the flat of your back which is accompanied by a low, gritty voice. Whoever it is says something, but you don’t quite hear them. It’s probably Price, trying to comfort you, trying to say there’s one thing you could’ve done to stop it, but you know there was something you could do, anything you could’ve done.
Price calls your name and you go to shove him away, but his hands wrap around your wrists, and the voice is more insistent. You choke on a sob and shake your head, struggling against him until you hear it—his voice. “Fuck, [Name], can you hear me?” Ghost’s voice. It’s his voice.
No. Your mind is playing tricks on you and you won’t fall for it, you won’t let yourself go through this horrendous grief for a second time. You try to curl up into a ball, wanting to grab at your hair or your clothes, just anything but be here. “Look at me.” His hands grab your face and force your face to look at him and..
It’s him. It’s Ghost.
All of your noises stop for a moment as you stare with wide eyes that are full of unfallen tears, eyes full of grief, all for him. Ghost stares back at you with uncharacteristically wide eyes, and you can see the way his hands are slightly trembling—he’s worried about you. Ghost’s eyebrows furrow when he sees your expression of anguish. “Hey—hey, what happened?” Ghost’s voice is so quiet, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks any louder. Your hands come up to his mask and touch it and you burst into a harsh sob again, throwing your arms around him.
Usually, Ghost would hesitate. He would be reluctant to reciprocate such personal touch, such desperation, but he pulls you close into his arms without a second thought. Your hands grab his shirt and you breakdown into his chest, wetting the fabric with your tears. His heart slipped a beat because he’s never seen you like this—has never seen you break down this horribly.
He’d be here when you were ready to talk about it, but for now he’ll stay to hold you until your shoulders stop shaking. Ghost moves to sit on his bottom and you whimper in fear, like he’ll leave. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
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kanroji-san · 6 months
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On a Call
Mc: Dear, I'm breaking up-
Diavolo:*With a serious tone* Im pregnant
Mc: I meant the call...
Diavolo:...right, sorry. I panicked my spouse...
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gay-jesus-probably · 11 months
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Okay so I have a lot of thoughts about the whole thing of the Gerudo being a race of entirely women, with the only exception being one man born every hundred years, and that man automatically being their king. Now this worldbuilding comes from Ocarina of Time, and there's obviously a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications there, because it was 1998. And it seems that Tears of the Kingdom is sticking with the lore of Gerudo men being extremely rare and becoming the King of their people, which once again has a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications because it's 2023 and Nintendo has somehow gotten even worse about this shit.
But let's set aside the whole... everything, and look at this from just the in-universe perspective. How does it work? I mean, it's pretty clear that there is no overlap between the kings; the old ones are normally long gone by the time a new one is born, but the Gerudo manage to take care of themselves during the hangtime. So they must have an established system of government and leadership that doesn't involve a king, and somehow that system is set up in a way that does a smooth transfer of power once a new king is born and old enough to take the throne. But why bother always declaring a random guy to be your King when you already have a perfectly functional system in place?
I mean again, the whole thing has a lot of sexist implications, but we're not looking at this from a real world context, we're examining it in-universe. And we could just go the lazy route and say that their king is in charge just because he's the only man, but I don't like that. I mean come on, the Gerudo are a race of entirely women, and most of their outside problems come from Hylian men being creepy about it. They are entirely a matriarchy; there is literally no reason for their culture to have an inherent respect for men, even if the man in question is one of them. And they're desert people; they live in an extremely harsh and dangerous landscape, if they don't have their shit together, they will die. By sheer necessity, their culture needs to put a lot of value in being practical, because if they're stupid about things, people die. They really can't afford to have a shitty leader take over, and just letting some guy take the wheel doesn't really fit with the way their culture must otherwise work.
So again, why the fuck do they bother having a King?
I think it's mainly just a ceremonial position. Yes, if the guy is a good leader he'll be in charge, but if he isn't good at being a King or isn't interested in the job... fuck it, they've already got a functional government system that's been leading their people the whole time, why fix what isn't broken? The title of Gerudo King isn't about leadership or power. I think it's more about belonging. Because the Gerudo are a culture where every single one of them can be defined in the same way... and there is exactly one exception once a century. Men are considered to be inherently outsiders at the best of times, and more often they're enemies. A man born into this culture is a natural outsider; he is completely unique, and that means he doesn't really fit into his community. And well... when someone is fundamentally different from the rest of their community, they tend to be ostracized.
So I think that's why the position of Gerudo King exists. It isn't about them needing or even wanting a man to lead them. The title of King doesn't need to involve any leadership at all. It's about giving the man born every century a place in their society. It's a way of saying yes, you are one of us, you are a Gerudo, you belong here, you are wanted and you are loved.
The Gerudo know that every hundred years, one of their children will be fundamentally different from all of his peers. And so their society is built to ensure that a child who is completely different from them will still be loved and accepted. He will always have a place in their society. He doesn't need to earn their love, he has it just for existing. These are his people.
The title of Gerudo King isn't an inherent position of authority. It's a promise of acceptance.
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sandeewithtwoe · 6 months
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So called “Gods” and their gender identity
Error belongs to loverofpiggies
Nightmare belong to Jokublog
Ink belongs to comyet/myebi
In case you can’t read my handwriting:
Error: Pronouns? I don’t know what they are but I want NONE of it! <- agender
Nightmare: You have pronouns? Give them to me. <- Mirrorgender
Ink: You want to know my pronouns? Aw, thanks for askin! (Proceeds to not answer) <- Non-binary
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elizakai · 4 months
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Reminder that Dreamtale Twins are canonically sexless beings who identify with male pronouns.
yk what that means troops~💫
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beesonhoneytoast · 6 months
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“I’m hopeless without you.”
♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡
synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality
~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics
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Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.
Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.
“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on. 
The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car. 
Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was. 
“Y/n, it's me, Mike.” 
“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.” 
“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.” 
“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.
“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.
Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial. 
Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.
Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park. 
Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked. 
“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased. 
“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-” 
“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.
“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily. 
“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him. 
“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown. 
“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up. 
Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it. 
There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly. 
And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob. 
“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car. 
Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day. 
Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality. 
“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night. 
Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists. 
You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.
>> end.
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story written by @beesonhoneytoast. characters belong to five nights at freddy’s © 2014
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osleeplessflowero · 5 months
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💜 Reader has They/Them pronouns and their appearance is entirely up to you! ❌ The skeletons will not be entirely canon accurate and will have a few of my headcanons attached. I hope they're still enjoyable! Sequel to this oneshot. ❣️ Sanses belong to their respective owners. All I own is the writing. WORDS: 1,589
🌨️❄️ SNOW DAY! ☃️🧊
Snow gently falls from the sky, hitting the ground and covering it with a pure white, cold blanket. It fogs up the windows, freezing them. Trees have icicles on their branches.
Nightmare's garden has been covered up for the season, the roses and other flowers being kept alive inside a magical greenhouse.
A fireplace crackles in the main living room, its warmth filling the castle.
You sit up in your bed, sliding off of it and walking over to the window, rubbing your eyes to wake up a bit better before looking outside. Upon seeing the snow, you comically press your face up against the glass before excitedly walking to the door, sliding on some slippers of choice and exiting your room.
It's SNOWING!
You rush to Killer's door, tapping on it rapidly until he slides it open.
"you have really gotta stop doing that so early." He yawns, stretching and cracking his bones a little.
"You know you love seeing me in the morning." You smile smugly.
"hmmm.. i guess so."
You gasp, mocking offense. "You guess? You wound me, Killer, such a heartbreaker.."
He snickers, putting his hand up to his mouth.
You put the back of your hand against your forehead, leaning back dramatically. "Whatever could I do?"
"you could tell me why you woke me up this early again, for starters."
"Oh yeah-" You stand up straight again. "It's SNOWING outside!" You grin, bouncing slightly in place.
"..okay and?"
"Killer, it's SNOW- we could do all kinds of things out there- we could have snowball fights, we could build snowpeople, we could do a LOTTA things-"
"ehh, when you grow up surrounded by snow it loses a lot of its appeal."
"C'monnn, don't you wanna hang out with me? Doesn't have to be for too long, but I think it could be fun. Why not give it a chance?" You smile pleadingly, pressing your hands together. He looks you over, seemingly contemplating, before sighing and giving in.
"fine, but don't expect me to stay for too long."
"I'll take it." You smile warmly.
"what's goin' on over here?" Dust walks over, taking a sip of coffee.
You make grabby hands, and he shakes his head. "no, get your own. answer me."
"well, they wanna go out and spend some time in the snow today."
"yeah? how come?"
"Because it could be fun- and it means group bonding time."
"what's gotten you all motivated for group bonding stuff?"
"I dunno. I just wanna spend time with my favorite people all together. Is that so bad?"
Dust and Killer look at each other, before sighing and smiling at you.
"i guess one day couldn't hurt, right killer?" "yeah. only doing this for them though."
You smile smugly, before Horror's door opens.
"why are you all so loud so early."
"Good morning, Horror." You smile at him, and he smiles a little in return. "..mornin'. what's goin' on?"
"We're gonna go out and have a snow day. Wanna join us?" "do i have to stand next to them?" "No, you can stand wherever you want." "then i'm in."
"you wound us, horror." Killer pretends to wipe away a tear. "literally could not give less of a shit." Horror deadpans, before you motion for everyone to follow you to the kitchen.
You get some more coffee started, chatting with everyone about old missions and other things like that, pouring cups for everyone. You hear a large set of doors open and close, peeking your head out of the kitchen to see Nightmare approaching.
"Morning, Night." You smile at him. "Morning. What's going on?" "We're all just having coffee right now, but we're gonna go have some fun in the snow later." "Why would you wanna go out there if it's freezing? Humans are vulnerable to frostbite, and snow's annoying to get off of your clothes. Just gets them all wet, too." He scrunches up his face. "C'monnn, there's lots of fun to be had out there. Why don't you join us? You might like itttt." "If I agree will you stop pestering me about it?" "Yes." You blink innocently. "Fine. But only for a little while." He puts his hand on your head, messing up your hair before going into the kitchen to get some coffee for himself.
You fist pump, going back as well.
After a few more minutes of conversation, you go back to your room to find much warmer clothes for yourself, knowing that since they're skeletons they don't feel the cold. You, however, are not immune to frostbite, and need protection.
Once you've properly bundled up, you walk out of your room and go into Killer's.
"Rate the fit-" "gimme a 360."
You spin around in a circle before striking a pose.
"9/10, should've went with a little more red." "You would say that." You snicker, walking out with him. He holds your hand as you walk, much less to keep up and more just because he wanted to.
You reach the living room where the other three are waiting by the fire for you, greeting them and heading out.
Snow crunches under your shoes as you walk, feeling it hit your head and making your cheeks a little flushed.
Killer walks casually beside Dust, who has his hands in his pockets. Horror lets some snow fall on his hand silently for a bit. Nightmare just walks next to you, a neutral look on his face.
You try to think of what to do first, then get an idea and smile deviously.
While the others are distracted, you reach down and pick up some snow, forming it into a ball and holding your hands behind your back.
"Oh Killerrrr.. I have a gift for you." "is it the gift of your undying love and affection for me?" He puts his hands on his cheeks, shooting you a wink. "Killer, you already know that I love you. But that's not it. THIS IS-"
You hit him right in the face with a snowball, then run for dear life.
"ohohoho, you are SO GONNA GET IT-" He runs after you, forming a snowball himself. You let out a scream, but in truth, you're not actually scared. It's one of excitement.
Nightmare shakes his head, watching in slight amusement.
"you gonna get in on that, boss?" Dust asks, standing beside him. "Absolutely not. I'd rather not have snow hurled at my face." "they seem to be having a lot of fun th-"
Dust gets hit in the face with a snowball. Followed by a "SORRY DUST-" in the distance.
"sorry to cut this short, boss, but this is a declaration of war-" "Go on."
He runs off, picking up snow in both hands and making two snowballs, chasing you both down. Horror looks at Nightmare, Nightmare sharing a look back, before Horror just leaves him to himself and joins the fight.
Walls are built, alliances made, betrayals were common.
You had a blast, aiming another snowball at Killer and throwing it before he ducks..and it hits Nightmare.
You feel yourself tense, the others stare at him. Killer looks like he's about to burst out laughing, Dust puts his hand to his teeth, and Horror..honestly doesn't care.
"Now look what you've done." "Nightmare, I-" "YOU DARE DECLARE WAR ON THE KING OF NEGATIVITY?"
He charges at you with a malicious grin, you playfully screaming and running as the others join in an all-out battle. You feel proud that you managed to get him to join in on the fun this time.
Once you all tire yourselves out, you focus your attention on snowpeople building. (After you take the time to go inside and get some extra parts to decorate them, that is.)
You make yours a silly fellow, a rather gentlemanly specimen indeed. You then make a much smaller gentleman to keep him company.
Killer makes sure to sculpt his properly, adding the classic carrot nose and a few pieces of clothing like a hat and scarf.
Dust..okay that's a pile of snow with his name written on it. Doesn't count.
Horror makes a bigger snowperson, carefully crafting details onto it, making small patterns in the snow with his sharp fingers. You give him some assistance, suggesting what to add to certain parts.
Nightmare adjusts yours when you aren't looking, sprucing it up a little and fixing its hat when it begins to slide off.
"Okay, I think it's time to go back inside. Their face is getting a bit too flushed. I wouldn't want to risk frostbite."
"Aww, okay. We should do this again if it snows tomorrow. Maybe we could go ice skating that time- I bet I could skate better than youu-" "Sure, we'll go with that." "You doubt my skills?" "I do doubt your skills."
You scoff, nudging Nightmare's shoulder as you all walk back. He simply grins at you.
You change out of your wet clothes, putting on some warm pajamas and going to sit in the living room with everyone. Nightmare sits to your right at the end of the couch, Killer on your left. Dust sits in a recliner, and Horror sits in front of you on the floor. You lean a bit on Nightmare as a movie starts, tracing lines on Horror's skull with your hand and taking an occasional sip of hot chocolate.
After a few jokes and discussions, you feel yourself getting tired, falling asleep right in the same spot. Feeling perfectly comfortable with your favorite skellies around.
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pokegalla · 1 year
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Bestie- I need this ok?!
Bad sanses with an S/O that absolutely DEVOURS energy drinks, like, 3+ a day- and they are still tired-
(I just described me fr-)
Ok gotchu✨
Sorry about late response! I thought I had finished your request…..
Then I look at drafts 🙃
I hope you enjoy!!!
The Bad Sanses (+ Cross) with an tired S/o who always drinks energy drinks!
Dust:
* How are you alive man? Like not radioactive and shit-? That is a LOT of energy drinks. And you can’t fool this guy. He’s very observant so he’ll immediately notice that you still get tired.
* He honestly might just teach you the bad causes of drinking too many. Nah really he will sit you down with all the research he did to explain everything. (Quite endearing really. He really wants to make sure you’re ok❤️)
* Now he’s not gonna force you to stop. It’s really up to you in the end. But he will still be making sure you are ok. And he suggests healthier options too! See? Now you can enjoy what you love but in a much healthier way!
* He’s not very talkative but the way he shows how much he cares for you is very sweet. Don’t worry your skellie too much! He’s quite the Worrywart!
Horror:
* Boyo is always trying to take a sip from your can. He’s just curious on why you love it so much. So much that he is literally giving you puppy eyes so that you’ll give him a sip (which I know you succumbed to the cuteness-). He found it pretty cool!
* And yet…..you still cannot get away with saying “Oh I’m not tired! Just waiting for it to kick in! 👀💦” yeah sweetie Horror is also very observant. He’ll make you get sleep. And you can ONLY get an energy drink if you get proper sleep in!
* He knows you love the drinks but he’d rather you get proper sleep first! Then you can have any you like! Why drink to get energy when you can just sleep Y’know? That’s what he thinks anyway. But he wants you happy too so you always wake up with an energy drink ready for you! ☺️
* He just wants you to be happy and healthy!
Killer:
* Bruh. You know DAMN well he’s probably the one supplying you the damn drinks- if you thought you was bad? Think again- he literally has an unlimited supply in god knows where in that room of his…..
* Let’s be honest: He drinks WITH you. Both of you happily drinking together on the couch watching anime or playing games. But he’ll drop a few hints about “Heh might wanna slow down…”
* Now just because he kind of (is) a bad influence, doesn’t mean he won’t keep an eye on you. If he sees how it affects you, he’ll try to moderate how much to give you. Because he may be a lil shit….but he cares about you a lot.
* You can always be guaranteed to have fun with this guy but also taken care of no matter what!
Error:
* Glitchy boi would be a straight up dick talking about you have an addiction meanwhile he’s on his 15th chocolate bar himself- I’m pretty sure he steals your drinks too-
* And you can bet he’s taking those drinks away if you’re overdoing it. He’ll have multiple excuses for keeping it from you…..but really he just wuvs you and doesn’t want you feeling all sluggish because he worries for you 🥺. Will he admit that? HA! No-
* Though he will easily give in with a little….convincing. Puppy eyes and promising more chocolates? He’ll eventually give in. But he also makes you promise to at least take it easy with the drinks.
* Grumpy hobo man may be a lil sassy but he means well!
Nightmare:
* He’s probably the only one who doesn’t see why the hell you like these drinks. It tastes like battery acid…..(says the guy drinking black coffee-). He didn’t really care at first but the MOMENT he sees how groggy you get? Oh you fucked up-
* He’s immediately hiding your stash and you WILL be scolded if you ask about it. And he’s dragging your ass to bed to make sure you get proper sleep. Right after he makes sure you are properly hydrated first.
* I can imagine even as his S/o, these moments can be quite unexpected but he was like…..mother henning you. And the way he stays by your side to make sure you’re ok makes your heart melt❤️
* Even the king of negativity can have a sweet side!
Cross (Lil bonus boi✨):
* Well he does like a few energy drinks himself especially for a game night or during morning training. He can drink as much as you without really realizing it then feels guilty about it but laughs it off.
* But it’s definitely a different story when he notices how sleepy you still are especially after the amount you drank. He gets a little concerned and asks if you’re okay. When he learns the energy drinks don’t work on you, he thought of a few ideas…..
* He looked for alternatives that could help you wake up much better. Like working out with him and eating a few healthier meals! But you both do have days to splurge on your favorite drink. It’s only fair!
* He didn’t want you to miss out on what you loved! So he helped you find a balance! He just loves you so!❤️
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ssadumba55 · 10 months
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More Jack Skellington and Ghost Child! Reader
Request: Another jack Skellington father figure headcanons please
A/N: Continuing the canon that was established here
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One of your little found family's favourite things to do together was read a book at night. It was the only thing that could guarantee everyday to pull Jack from his planning from next Halloween.
The bedtime routine had become your favourite, even though you didn't really need sleep. It was a mere formality seeing as you were literally dead.
Sally would help you pick out a book from the many shelves Jack had, a lot of them were gruesome but that's what comes from living in Halloweentown.
You always made yourself corporeal for this, snuggling up beside Sally on the bed and waiting for Jack to join. And he always did too, he was never late.
Sitting between the two adult ghouls, you flipped the pages while they read the words. Reading had never been a skill you'd picked up on before, but you liked listening to them read, feeling the warmth of them on either side of you. Which was funny seeing as none of you were actually alive so there should be no warmth.
And even though you really didn't need sleep, the routine always ended with you falling asleep, being tucked in by Jack and Sally and affectionate tucking in taking place
That was the best part of having a corporeal body, you could feel the warmth of the blanket and the gentle strokes of comfort from your adoptive parents
"Can I hold your hand?" You asked nervously
You and Jack had agreed to go on a special mission for Sally, she needed things for making her special brews and for other hobbies she took part in. She had said it was a good way to get Jack out of the house.
Jack looked down at you, your nervous form flickered between the usual transparent to the corporeal form. You had never liked the hustle and bustle of the main part of Halloweentown.
He held his hand out for you to grasp, and you did. It always struck him when he held your hand how small it was compared to his. Your small child hands looked even smaller in his bony fingers.
"You sure you're going to be alright?" He gently prodded. He had promised if you didn't feel up to it, the two of you could always try again another day.
"Yeah, I'll be fine dad."
If he had a heart, it would've surely skipped a beat at those words. Being called dad was not something he ever thought would make him feel so proud. It was a greater accomplishment even than his Halloweens.
"I know you will."
"Fetch Zero!" You tossed one of Jack's bones down the graveyard for the ghost dog to catch.
He barked excitedly as he floated as fast as he could to catch it, bringing it back in record speed. You tossed it again, this time harder and further.
The dog scurried off to retrieve the bone and you waited for him to return. It was strange to be here after staying at Jack's home for so long. You didn't miss being all alone out here, but sometimes you did miss the simplicity of it.
You were lifted into the air before you could dwell on the thoughts further, Jack had snuck up behind you and he set you on his shoulders. There was nothing better than being "on top of the world".
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."
"Zero wanted to play fetch." As you said this, the dog in question raced back bone in mouth and Jack took it from him, connecting it to himself once more.
"It's time to come inside, your bedtime routine starts soon."
You kicked your legs in contentment as he walked back up the path to Halloweentown. Zero zoomed around at Jack's feet, following the two of you home.
You glanced back at the graveyard, one might think it was longingly but in reality, you didn't miss it as much as you thought.
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rayactive-factory · 6 months
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<✨🐏🌙>
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donaviolet · 1 year
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very specific but very true
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sister-lucifer · 2 months
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Who’ll Stop The Rain?
Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 
READ PART ONE HERE 
READ PART TWO HERE
Genre: Comfort, fluff, slight angst but nothing heavy, not explicitly romantic
Summary: The thunder rouses you from a nightmare-filled sleep, and in your distress you run to Tim for comfort
Content/Warnings: None really, reader has nightmares due to unspecified trauma but nothing is explicitly written, Tim is a little emotionally constipated but does his best, no explicit romance.
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
You nearly jump out of your skin when the screaming thunder rips you from your fitful sleep. You sit up so fast you almost fall out of bed, your jaw hanging open like you’re trying to cry out despite no sound leaving your throat. Your chest is heaving so fast you start to choke on your breath. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, and even longer still for you to remember where you are. 
Do you recognize this place? 
Home? 
This isn’t home. 
No. Not quite.
A home, yes, but not your home. 
The TV is still on. 
The wallpaper is still peeling.
The shag rug is still discolored. 
You know where you are. 
You look around for a second, taking in your surroundings and making sure your assessment was correct. It’s like a flood of memories coming back to you in an instant, and for a second it’s almost calming. That is, until you get to the part that made you so afraid in the first place. 
The nightmares have been pervasive for weeks now. You’re not sure why. It’s some sort of episode you think, one of these days it’ll stop, but it’s been wearing on you. You’ve hidden it from Tim as best you can. You don’t want him to worry, that’ll only make you feel worse, and usually it’s easy enough to shake the thoughts from your mind. 
Usually. 
But this time it’s lingering, an unwanted guest meandering in the doorway for an uncomfortable amount of time, like dirty smoke permeating everything around it and yellowing the walls with its horrible malodor. 
God, it’s everywhere.
You squeeze your eyes shut, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face in them. It’s a feeble attempt to calm yourself, to stop the images of your nightmare from flashing in your mind over and over again, but it does little to help. 
The thunder cries out again and you yelp in surprise, the harsh noise cutting through the static buzzing taking over your mind. It irritates the pounding headache you can feel coming on. You’re exhausted, only being kept awake by the obscene amounts of adrenaline being pumped through your veins. 
God, it won’t go away. 
There are just some thoughts that can’t be forced out no matter how hard you try. They can’t be pushed away or covered up or cut out of you. You can only wait until they dissolve on their own, but right now they feel like a cement block weighing you down from the inside.
The headache is coming on faster than you thought, and you wince under the pressure of pins and needles in the back of your head. 
God, it hurts. 
You can’t stay here. 
You can’t stay in this room. 
It’s like the walls are closing in on you, the darkness barely shrouding their approach. 
It’s not safe here. 
You need Tim. 
He’ll know what to do.
You jump from your bed and tumble to the floor, not even taking a moment to acknowledge the pain as you thrash your way out of the covers tangled around your ankles. You barely manage to stumble to your feet, slamming into the doorway as you flee the room. It stings, but you don’t care. 
You’ve forgotten all pleasantries or manners as you burst into Tim’s room, slamming the door open so fast the knob rattles from the impact. Tim jolts awake with a grunt of surprise, and for a moment his hand jumps to grab the revolver he keeps in the dresser drawer. He only fumbles with the handle for a moment before he blinks a few times and pauses. He squints at you, tilts his head, then sighs in both relief and annoyance. 
He collapses back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes. 
“God…dammit, kid!” He groans, and you feel a pang of guilt that’s quickly washed away by the flood of tears stinging your eyes and burning your throat. 
You rush to his bedside, collapsing against the mattress and gasping for air as you try to collect yourself. You try to breath in, but the air is forced back out of your lung before you can take a meaningful breath. You choke out a pitiful cry of Tim’s name, but with the old TV being the only light in the room and his vision still blurry with sleep he can’t see the distress that’s evident on your face. 
He turns over onto his side, brows furrowed in annoyance and a hint of a scowl on his lips. 
“What do you need, kid?” 
You don’t get to answer before the thunder comes down again, making you flinch and forcing a surprised noise from your mouth. Tim turns and looks out the window, sighing and rolling his eyes. 
“Is it the thunder, huh? You scared, kid?” 
“Yes,” You finally choke out. 
He pauses, his expression instantly shifting to one of concern. He scrambles to sit up, making room for you on the bed. 
“Okay, okay,” He says softly, “Come on, get up here, I got you.”
You claw at the sheets as you climb up into bed with him, your hands immediately finding his body and grabbing onto his shirt. You pull yourself into him so desperately he almost falls over, barely managing to catch himself just in time to keep you both from going down. 
He’s almost as frantic as you are, large hands fumbling with you as he clumsily pulls you onto his lap and into his chest. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, your fingers clutching the back of his shirt so hard your knuckles are getting sore. It hurts, but you can’t let go. You hiccup and your breath stutters as you fight for air. 
“Hey, hey,” He whispers, trying to keep you still against him without crushing you, “Are you hurt or anything?” 
“No,” You answer, not relaxing your grip for a second. You feel Tim nod. 
“Okay, okay. What’s wrong, kid, what’s got you all worked up?” He asks. Hopefully you can’t hear that little shake in his voice. 
“N-Nightmare,” is the only reply you can stutter out, but it says enough. It strikes a nerve somewhere deep inside of Tim’s being, and it hurts like hell. He knows what it’s like to wake up screaming, terrified and alone. 
You’re not alone, though. Not this time. He won’t let you suffer like that.
…But god, he is so bad at this. 
He loves you with everything he’s got, but he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s come right out and said it. It’s embarrassing for him, that’s all, the words taste contrived and sticky in his mouth and it’s just unbearable. It’s not something he can make himself do. 
What else can he possibly say? 
He ponders that question as he keeps you against him, almost afraid to let you go. He can feel your hot tears soaking through his thin night shirt now. He doesn’t know how to stop them. He’s always suffered alone, he doesn’t even have a frame of reference here. 
Think, dammit, think, Tim. 
He won’t tell you everything is okay. It’s not, it never will be, and he’s not going to lie to you. 
He won’t tell you to stop crying. It’d be a horrible thing to ask of you, full stop. Christ, at this point, you deserve a good cry. 
He won’t stay quiet. It’s completely out of the question, he has to say something, and it has to be the truth. 
He has to tell you the truth. 
“…You’re safe with me, kid,” He sputters, trying to get the words out as fast as possible, “You’re safe, I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you. Not ever.” 
You go quiet for just a moment, like you’re surprised to hear that. Then you hiccup and suck in a harsh breath, and the sobs roll in once more. He sighs and starts to rub your back in smooth circles. 
“Whatever’s scarin’ you, kid,” He mutters in your ear, “I won’t let it get you. Nothing‘s gonna get to you while I’m here. You can sit here in my lap all night if you want, I ain’t lettin’ you go nowhere ‘til you feel safe.” 
As he talks, you slowly start to calm down. It’s gradual, but when he stops talking your hiccups and sobs have gotten just a bit quieter. Your grip on his shirt has loosened a little, too. 
You believe him. 
God, you really do believe him. 
And for some reason, that’s the most amazing thought that’s ever crossed his mind. You really do trust him to keep you safe. 
He plans to keep it that way. 
He adjusts you in his hold just a bit, moving to lean back against his pillows. He tightens his grip a bit just to keep you from moving. He doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to get away from you, he just wants you both to be comfortable. 
Both of his hands rest on your back, slowly sliding up and down as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Your body shivers against him, the heaving in your chest starting to level out bit by bit as you catch your breath. He can feel your lungs expand and contract with each breath. 
He reaches up to scratch the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around you. He listens intently as your voice quiets until you’re silent, and then the only thing he can hear is your steady breathing. 
He just sits there for a minute when he realizes he’s actually managed to calm you. He’s almost impressed with himself. In any other universe, that was probably a disaster.
His hands still and move to rest on your back once more. He doesn’t feel the need to keep you held so tight now. You’re not going anywhere.
Are you even awake? 
He turns his head to look at you, and you stir a bit in response. He quickly turns his head back so as not to wake you if you are asleep. He’s not going to get up until you are. 
He sighs softly to himself, his eyes turning back to the TV and whatever trashy sitcom he fell asleep too a few hours ago. He doesn’t really care. He won’t be up for much longer. Now that the adrenaline has worn off the exhaustion is quickly taking over, not to mention the warmth and comfortable pressure of you laying on top of him is more relaxing than he’d like to admit. 
He’s only just allowed his eyes to flutter shut when he feels you stir, and suddenly they fly open again. He stays still, but alert. You’re not having another nightmare, are you? Shit… 
He tenses as he listens to you, watching your movements  carefully. You don’t seem upset, at least not yet, but that can change in an instant. 
He’s ready to hold onto you if you freak out. He’s thinking about where he last left the first aid kit, just in case. He’s wondering what he’ll have to say this time if he can’t bring you down again. 
But then you go still. 
And you’re quiet. 
And you’re breathing steadily. 
And everything’s okay again. 
Then Tim flinches as an unexpected mumble of his name falls from your lips, and he turns to look at you in surprise and slight concern. 
“Yeah, kid? What is it?”
He gets no response. 
Your eyes are closed. You’re asleep. 
Thank God.
He huffs at his own anxiousness before laying his head back again. He pats your back softly, and his eyelids are starting to feel heavy again. 
“You know what?” He whispers as he reaches to pull a blanket over both of you, “I’ll ask you in the morning. Sweet dreams, kid.”
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toxiccrybabyart · 4 months
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Some of my favorite headcanons for the skeletons
My take on skeleton gender is that they’re all technically born agender
As they grow up they can latch onto a gender identity and maybe that gender will change in later years, but especially given how fluid their bodies are, with the existence of ecto magic, I really can’t see any of them being strictly male or female right out the soul.
Which is why I believe they’re all technically transgender, along with any other skeleton I’ll eventually draw
That being said, here’s my favorite headcanons for each skele!
Ink!
Any pronouns, nonbinary aroace
Blue!
He/she, Bigender bisexual
Dream!
He/him, Transmasc pansexual
Nightmare!
He/she/they, genderfluid queer
Killer!
He/they, genderqueer Omnisexual
Cross!
He/him, bisexual demiboy
Dust!
Any pronouns, transmasc pansexual
Horror!
He/they, Agender bisexual
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elizakai · 3 months
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Every time I draw or think about human Dust sans he has to be trans masc and I simply do not make the rules.
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communistkenobi · 4 months
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we gotta stop with this man we can’t keep doing this
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