#i headcanon he bites his thumb nail a lot when hes stressed

[chain-peoplebreaker]

That one tiktok eye color nail polish trend

close ups

[ghxstlike]

i love loving you

leon kennedy x reader content/warnings: petnames (baby), leon being awkward, leon antics, awkward flirting, teasing, cigarette mention, leon’s music taste, anxiety mention, nightmare mention. authors note: i am down bad for this man. he is rotting my brain and i am very okay with it. these are personal headcanons :)

leon's smile always starts out as a smirk. it's very cute.

always has a hand on you. around your shoulders, holding your hand, lightly gripping your thigh. he wants other people to know that you're taken- you're his.

he is a slightly possessive and jealous man. if someone is flirting with you, his eyes are narrowed at the person who is way too close to you, and his leg is bouncing with anxiety.

sooner or later, he saunters over to the two of you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"hey, baby," he whispers in your ear, but it was loud enough for the person in front of you to hear. you shiver, slightly leaning into leon's embrace.

when you first met leon, you were immediately attracted to him. so, of course, you started to flirt with him.

though, he isn't dumb. he knew you were flirting with him (he was flirting back, after all). he teased you for it, obviously.

"are you flirting with me?" he says with a smirk. leon leaned down to get closer to your face, tilting his head.

people say that leon is a flirting machine and is good with women. no he is not.

i mean, yes, he does flirt a lot, but he is not good with women at all.

you found it very charming and cute when he asked you out. a huge smile was plastered on your face, staring at the nervous man in front of you.

“i- hm, i was just- fuck. i was wondering if you, i dunno,” he clears his throat. his face is slightly pink, but he thinks that his face is a deep red by how hot his body feels. “do you want to go get dinner with me sometime?” he manages to get out. he sighs out of relief- he did it. he feels a drop of sweat roll down his temple onto his cheek, shoving his clammy hands into his jean pockets.

of course, you said yes. i mean, who wouldn’t?

y’all aren’t gonna like this, but he definitely smokes cigarettes.

i mean c’mon, he was born in 1977. though, he didn’t willingly start smoking. his friends in high-school peer pressured him.

he tried to stop smoking before his first day at rpd, but it failed miserably. he felt antsy and he was more on edge- angry. he hated that he got easily frustrated with people. he’ll try again someday.

he smells like cigarette smoke and leather. occasionally he smells like coconut & patchouli (his cologne).

always has a stress toy with him. i like to think he wears a fidget ring on his middle finger or thumb. playing with a stress ball or twirling a pen makes him more focused and calm.

bites the inside of his cheek when he’s deep in thought. he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing it, it just happens.

his music taste is decent!

he doesn’t listen to the radio, thinks 2010 music is trash and it’s annoying.

it’s mostly a combination between 90s alt & grunge and early 2000’s rock. his favorite band is radiohead.

always gives eye contact. never looks away when you're talking, especially when you're talking about your long day at work or something you're passionate about.

as we all may know, he's bad at communicating his feelings. you can tell he's getting better with it, but it's still a challenge for him.

he never talks about raccoon city. you only found out about this from overhearing a conversation he had with claire. you brought it up one time, but he fell silent and never looked up at you. ever since then, you never talked about it with him.

mans suffers with frequent nightmares, so obviously he never sleeps. when he's with you though, he doesn't have any nightmares. so, he stays up until you're ready for bed.

when you're out late, he's waiting for you in bed.

leon loves to get his hair played with. he loves the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

if you take meds, he always reminds you to take them. he also watches you take them, just in case.

leon always wants the best for you. he just loves you, so so much.

[inoreuct]

I'm loving your drabbles and headcanons so much, esp the hurt/comforty things, thank u for blessing my dash😭❤ if you felt like it, zoro and Sanji x how they would help the other through having a panic attack

aaaaaaa thank you anon! hurt/comfort all day every day 😔🤌🏼LESGO

sanji definitely has them more i think, considering the fuckton of things he’s gone through; not that zoro hasn’t been through some shit but you get my point. sanji had panic attacks as a kid back when he was in the cells in germa. to a certain extent i would say he's used to his body breaking down, so much so that he's learned to hide it very well. a slight increase in breathing, a little more twitchy with his gaze, maybe a very slightly bouncing leg; imperceptible to the normal person.

BUT. zoro is so attuned to him that he notices almost immediately, especially after they get together and he's paying even more attention. the first time, he's confused; sanji seems stressed. those are subtle signs of distress, but... there's no immediate threat around them that zoro can see. nevertheless he takes the cook's wrist and pulls him through a random door with one thumb ready on wado's hilt, asks him what's wrong—

and sanji breaks down. they're in the dark, quiet stockroom of some apothecary; if it had been anyone other than zoro with him he would have tried to hold it together, but zoro is fine. zoro is safe. he slides to the ground and curls up into a ball, hugging his legs to his chest and burying his face in his kneecaps even as he hears the swordsman's noise of concern. he's trembling all over, breath spiralling out of control and fuck, he doesn't even know what set him off— just that he'd started feeling smothered, cold sweat beading on the back of his neck, and then zoro had pulled him back here.

zoro's brain stalls a little. he'd seen some of the older kids at the orphanage struggle with this; panic attacks, shimotsuki sensei had told him, were not uncommon in people who had endured long periods of stress or trauma. but he'll think about the semantics later.

zoro has to ask three times, each increasingly desperate, if he can touch before sanji gives him a jerky nod; the cook's shoulders are hunched up to his ears, nails biting into his arms in a bid to ground himself, and zoro can't stand the thought of him hurting more than he already is— so he gently takes sanji's wrists as he crouches down, unwrapping his arms and sitting properly so that he can pull sanji close.

the cook shudders as he clambers into zoro's lap, graceless and hurried, hands slipping under zoro's arms to grip at his shoulders and zoro lets him cling, presses a hand to sanji's nape and the other to his spine, shifts so that his own back is against the wall.

they sit there for a long time on the stockroom floor. zoro isn't good at this, he thinks. at comfort. he tries anyway, sifts his hands through sanji's flaxen hair as he talks about everything and nothing at all, mindless murmurs as he feels tears dampen the side of his throat where sanji has decided to hide. sanji lets out a shaky breath, fingertips digging into zoro's muscle, and zoro can feel the cook's heart beating out a slowing tattoo against his own chest. his slacks are twisted around the ankle, rucked up above his stupid fancy loafers. zoro smooths them down as sanji pulls back and curls up sideways.

he is loathe to break the silence, but he asks anyway. "everything okay, cook?"

"...yeah," sanji breathes, seeming to deflate as zoro presses a kiss to his crown. "yeah, i'm good." he leans into the arm around his back and tucks his nose against zoro's collarbone, closing his eyes. zoro doesn't move and he won't until sanji wants to leave.

after that first time, zoro kind of gets it down to a routine. when sanji's about to have a panic attack he gets the cook to a quiet, dark space, sits down and talks him through it; it helps sanji to know where he is, who he is, who he's with. a lot of the times he gets set off because something tripped a memory from his past, and it rockets him right back into his childhood. sanji hates it; hates the hold that it all still has on him, but zoro is VERY insistent that his getting through it all, unscathed or otherwise, is something to be proud of.

sanji's always shaken after panic attacks, no matter how much he brushes it off. when they get back to the ship zoro bundles him up in blankets and brings him hot tea; it's a direct opposite of how he was treated back in germa. it helps. they already share a bunk most nights anyway, but on these nights especially zoro makes sure to really hold sanji close, lets the cook arrange him however he wants before they fall asleep because it's the least he can do.

it irks him. the fact that he can't fight something that's in sanji's own head, that he isn't the best at handling these types of situations— but sanji refuses to have anyone other than him for the time being, so he does what he can.

(to sanji, it's more than enough.)

now, zoro. i don't think he gets panic attacks often, but only because his body's kind of in a constant state of alert; he is so focused on being ready to fight, so high-strung, that he doesn't even have the chance to slack and slip into one.

however i think a breaking point would be if the crew was in any sort of perilous situation and he couldn't do anything to help. shit goes down and everybody's alive but he gets back to the ship and it all hits him at once.

sanji finds him sitting eerily still on the bench in the crow's nest. his leg would be bouncing but he's always had incredible awareness of and control over his body, and right now he has himself in an iron grip. his breathing is fast and laboured and his gaze is burning a hole into a spot on the wall— and sanji hovers for a second because it looks like zoro would fly apart at a single poke.

he recognises the symptoms even if they're locked down tighter than a sprung mousetrap. he climbs up gently but obviously enough that he knows zoro will notice, keeps his footsteps soft but lets his soles brush across the floor. zoro inhales sharply when sanji lays a tentative hand on his shoulder and the cook nearly pulls back, but he gives zoro a firm squeeze and sits down next to him.

they don't do much, just sitting there with their shoulders and knees pressed together, and sanji waits because he knows he can't push this no matter how much he wants to and god does he want to. his fingers twist discreetly into the covers on his free side. he wants to pull zoro to his chest and rub his back and show him that everything's alright. he needs zoro to show something other than stone-faced calm, about as convincing as a plaster mask. he needs zoro to not bottle everything in but he will not push, he won't, so he sits there and bites at the inside of his cheek.

eventually the weight on his shoulder slowly grows heavier. zoro reaches for his hand, tentative, trembling, and sanji nearly yells a prayer to whatever god he doesn't believe in. he leans over to pull zoro down and lies on his back on the bench, letting the swordsman curl around him and smoothing his palm over zoro's tense spine.

zoro's exhale is shaky. his fingers grip at sanji's shirt so tightly that the threads strain, his torso laying across sanji's stomach like a shield. sanji shifts down a little when he realises zoro's trying to get to his heartbeat; he sighs when the swordsman's palms bracket his ribcage, ear pressed above his sternum, earrings warming from being pressed against skin.

sanji rubs a thumb over zoro's hairline, kneading into his tense temples. "wanna come down for dinner?" he asks quietly, face soft as tired grey eyes peer up at him. "bet they're all waiting for you."

he knows that zoro needs proof that they're all alright. a night in the galley with gentle hands and bandages and soft laughter would do him some good. cake, if their nakama want, and spiked hot chocolate all around.

zoro grunts, burying his face back into sanji's stomach, and sanji takes that as a later. maybe a soon, if he's lucky; he needs to talk franky into giving this bench seat cushions. a soft huff ruffles zoro's hair, and sanji smooths it back into place.

they go down much, much later. sanji's spine is aching and he knows zoro feels bad about it from the palm that kneads at his lower back, but he doesn't really mind. luffy's indignance at missing dinner is mollified when sanji bakes a massive red velvet cake. nobody notices when he slips zoro an extra slice and gets a soft squeeze around the waist as thanks.

[his-name-is-stewart]

Ghoul's Hands <3 <3

Just a collection of headcanons because a friend of mine has CURSED ME with thoughts about him.

His hands are always cold. Freezing cold. It feels like he's barely got any blood running through his body.

While he doesn't mind his hands feeling cold, if you hold his hands close to you to warm them up, he'll melt. The warmth is so cozy and safe to him - it means a lot that someone cares enough to not want him to feel cold, even if it really doesn't bother him.

If you're walking side by side, he'll reach out and link pinkies with you.

He has callouses and burn scars from working with chemicals.

He bites his nails, but wears nail polish to discourage the habit.

He has a lot of spooky themed rings that he likes to wear, but many of them have tarnished in some funky ways from coming into contact with various chemicals/fumes.

He'll hold your face in his hands.

If you've got a fever or it's hot outside, he'll rest a hand on your forehead/neck to help cool you off. (See also: cuddling with him to stay cool when it's hot out)

He'll cover your eyes when you've got a migraine so your head doesn't hurt as much from the light. (I think about this ALL THE TIME)

Similarly he'll also cover your ears if you're in a loud, overwhelming environment and forgot headphones/earplugs.

His stitches run over the backs of his hands (I like to think of them as some kind of body mods), and they're a very grounding texture to run your thumb over. Holding his hand when you're stressed or panicking and running a thumb over his stitches to help calm down aaaaaa

He'd run his hands through your hair and massage your scalp to help you relax

[sailorwritesstuff]

Hand headcanons (p!marauders: James, Sirius, Remus, Lily)

Sirius

Painted nails

very pretty

very pale

has a freckle on the palm

Long fingers not very thick

A bit feminine

Lots of rings

They remind him of his mother sometimes

Tell him you like them (he'll melt)

James

Big.

Rough.

He is quidditch obsessed and quidditch brooms are made out of wood there are splinters and there are calluses.

It's how it is.

A little veiny but not as much as Remus

He doesn't take care of his hands but he'll let his mother and Lily do it for him

A single ring at a time. Always gold. Never silver. (I know the photo reference has silver)

Not really a part of his hand but has a really nice watch that he wears backwards on purpose and it drives Sirius and Lily insane

Lily

Soft but not from a lack of work

She believes in self care

Trimmed nails, taking care of cuticles, clear gloss top coat.

Smells like vanilla scented hand sanitizer 24/7

Where is she keeping this hand?!

A few paper cuts

Beauty mark between her thumb and pointer

Remus

Veiny.

Very tense. He is so stressed out.

Huge palms but not overly long fingers

Scratches and scars

No rings

No paint

His hands are average soft except for the pad of his right hand by his pinky.

Terrible hangnails.

This man bites his fingers and picks at hangnails when he's anxious

[here-comes-the-moose]

I wonder if crosshair used to suck his thumb when he was really little- the precursor to the toothpicks

Thank you for your submission. 🩷

I’ve seen this headcanon in a lot of fan works and it is one that I share. I am also a fan of the thought/headcanon of him being a big fan of pacifiers when he was little; I’ve seen quite a few works of fan art of baby and small cadet batch where he has one and they live rent free in my mind. I’ve also seen other headcanons that he used to bite his nails or lips when stressed or nervous and one of his brothers gave him the toothpicks as a substitute, and this is a headcanon that I also share. Thank you for reading my long, ramble answer I just like to give really thought-out responses, if that makes sense? I also love sharing headcanons and seeing what other people think 😊

Another thought that I’ve had that isn’t super related but is semi-related is that he probably likes sweet treats like popsicles, lollipops, or cake pops.

[one-boring-person]

Could you do headcanons for Iceman with an s/o with anxiety? Please and thank you

Hey! Thank you for requesting, I hope this is satisfactory! Let me know what you think!😊💛💛

Iceman Headcanons For Dating Someone With Anxiety.

Warnings: none

Masterlist

(If this is inaccurate in any way, or upsets anyone at all because of inaccuracies, then please let me know so that I can change them accordingly! I don't want to offend anyone!)

When the two of you first start dating, he doesn't necessarily notice the signs, as he's far too preoccupied with the fact that you actually said yes to him, though that in itself was hard enough for you than you thought it should be.

He's quick on the uptake, though, and soon figured it out after observing you a few times.

Ice begins to notice the small things, like your slight unwillingness to look people in the eye, your fidgety body language before a training flight and your apprehension over trying new tactics in the sky, but it's only when he catches you having a full blown meltdown that he finally realises.

Instantly, he's at your side, trying to calm you down, wracking his brain for ways to do so, finally asking you to name five things you can hear, four things you can smell, three things you can see and so forth. Listening to his voice, you manage to calm down, trusting him enough to keep you safe.

From then on, Ice made sure to learn your tells, from the way you start biting your thumb nail when your starting to get nervous, to how you start subconsciously looking around for a way out when under pressure. Eventually, he can easily pick out when something is wrong.

Generally, he's not overly concerned, because he knows you know your limits, but he cares a lot, and does his best to keep you relaxed at all times, and when that's not possible, he has learned how to keep you feeling safe and comfortable.

Since he knows these tells, he also knows how to reassure you.

If he notices you starting to shift in your seat in class, he will reach over and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze to calm you, smiling at you as you shoot him a thankful look.

Likewise, if he notices the difference in the air (I.e you've become quieter than normal and don't make the same manoeuvres as everyone else) then he is well-learned in how to subtly talk you out of the problem, knowing that you enjoy the sound of his voice, and that it's very calming to you.

It's when you have an anxiety attack in the middle of a training flight that Ice actually sees the severity of the problem.

At first, he tries his usual tactics, talking calmly to you, reassuring you and cajoling you, but to no avail; there is no reply. Your pilot/RIO (depending on which position you take) starts calling out to you now, knowing something is wrong, before they try to contact base. This only adds to your stress, though, as white noise starts to fill your head.

It takes Ice near enough five minutes to figure out how to help, in which time he's fighting to control himself, his head pounding from how hard he's trying to think, his breathing almost as fast as yours as he panics.

Calming down, he guides his plane to fly alongside yours, instructing you to look over at him and see his proximity, asking you or your pilot to land the plane with him so he can help you. Of course, he knows this won't be possible in a real dogfight, but he hopes he can figure soemthing else out before then.

Together, the two of you do, eventually managing to work out a system that works for you both.

[wallwriterstuff]

Am I allowed to place in a request for Mr svelte tracker boi Demetri? I need my greek boi fix. 😅😂 My stimming (due to my slight autism and anxiety) has been kinda bad lately and I was wondering if you could do some headcanons on how he would be with a reader who has that going on? (For example, some of my stimming signs are restless, uncontrollable finger twitches sometimes, and sudden limb movements and facial twitches I can't control 😅) Thanks! Also, sorry if this is too touchy a subject!🙈

You most certainly are allowed and I cannot express how hard I fangirled when I realised it was you in my ask box. I played it very cool but just know I was dying inside from the moment I saw your username come up XD 

TW: Mentions of anxiety and sensory overload. If that’s a little personal to you please be cautious about reading this one!

I’m incapable of writing short things it seems so it’s another long one.

Self-stimulating behaviour, known more commonly as stimming, usually involves repetitive movements and/or sounds. Though it is most often associated with autism (I know when I first saw the word stimming that was where my mind immediately went to) everybody stims in some way, shape or form to relieve stress, tension, anxiety, boredom etc. Some ways are less noticeable than others such as nail biting or finger tapping, while others can be more obvious and disruptive to your social/daily life like licking certain objects or scratching at skin.

I learned all this from doing a bit of reading before taking on this request and if you want to know more then the link to the article I read is right -----> HERE <------ ! It’s informed my ideas for this headcanon request and though I’m open to discussions about the topic to help educate myself and anyone else who wishes to learn more, what I will not tolerate is any sort of hate or discrimination based on the links to developmental disorders and mental illness that stimming has. This blog has and always will be a safe space for anyone and everyone and a little respect for one another will help keep it that way. Be kind folks!

So without further ado, how would Demetri react to you stimming I wonder?

Part 1: Headcanons below the Keep Reading Line Part 2: Teeth (fic) Part 3: Control (fic) 

·         He honestly wouldn’t really notice for a while because, well, humans aren’t exactly designed to be as flawless as vampires

·         Impromptu nosebleeds, migraines, sneezes…they’re just glitches in a faulty system so why is the way your leg just bounced up off of the floor while your sitting any different to those other equally as involuntary things

·         He’s struggling right now to, after all he just met his very human mate and it’s quite overwhelming for him to have to adapt to all these new feelings and situations he finds himself in, but he deals because he can

·         Some days, you just…can’t

·         Getting attacked by a man with some bizarre fascination with your neck is bad enough but being whisked away by strangers is somehow even worse. At least in the first scenario once it’s over it’s over, now you’re just living an anxious person’s nightmare in a new place full of new people

·         Volterra was beautiful, but it wasn’t home. No cosy apartment, no neighbours cat to feed, no monotonous shifts at work…

·         Actually, most of the time you’re left utterly alone to navigate an unfamiliar castle, and the times you aren’t alone is when there’s a man claiming to be your eternal lover in front of you

·         Try to convince me this man doesn’t rip the band aid off and profess his love for you with dramatic flair just TRY

·         Your days are filled with endless boredom where you’re doing nothing at all until someone checks on you, and then fight or flight kicks in because oh HELLO Mr Vampire guard are you here to give me lunch or kill me?

 ·         Demetri had thought that perhaps you were okay with that, since you hadn’t really outwardly reacted beyond the way your cheek twitched up into a smirk once or twice as he spoke. Hell, you’d even winked at him…right?

·         You did that a lot so he really genuinely thought that maybe you were just trying to flirt with him, build a relationship with him. Your constant little winks and the way your fingers twitched when he was nearby, like you so desperately wanted to reach out to him…

·         It took a few weeks before he realised how wrong he was

·         You’d reached for a sip of water and your arm had just whipped outward from your body

          + You’d absolutely drenched him with your entire glass of water and could only stare in abject horror wondering what the supposed vampire would do next, since you’d interrupted him rather smugly detailing his plans for your first date

·         Silence

·         There was just silence

·         It only made your anxiety worse and the muscles in your face just spasmed without your permission and - god did you just smirk at him again, oh no        

         + “I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. If you did not like the idea there were other ways to tell me so.”

 ·         You almost want to cry from sheer embarrassment at this point because the date really had sounded like it could be fun and now you’d just straight up thrown water in his face like he’d insulted you in the worst way imaginable

·         So you come clean and tell him about your stimming

·         He’s really worried at first because autism? Anxiety he’s heard of but autism sounds very dangerous, are you dying? You’re probably dying. He’s going to lose his mate –

·         Another involuntary finger twitch from you forces him to calm down because your anxious enough without his worrying on top, so he kind of brushes it off and makes no big deal out of it

·         Squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead to try and reassure you all is forgiven, even if he does have to go change a very expensive looking designer shirt and god you’re so sorry

·         Of course, that kind of makes it worse for you because anxiety brain is activated and your 99.9999% sure he’s actually furious with you still and has only pretended to forget it while he’s plotting his revenge

·         You see him late at night when you struggle to fall and stay asleep, reading in the low lamplight at his desk across the room, his laptop propped open and a notebook before him but you’re too scared still to ask what it is he’s reading so intently (probably good suggestions on places to bury your body welp)

·         It’s a complete surprise to you therefore when he does take you out on that date he promised you not two weeks later

 ·         He’s chosen a nice overcast day so he’s in the least conspicuous clothing he owns

            + Demetri’s least conspicuous clothes still consist of the most chic and expensive brands you know of and he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the quaint little market stalls he’s brought you to see

·         Despite the gloomy weather the people of Volterra are out in full force though, swarming the market stalls and chattering and laughing as flashes of gold and silver from jewelry hit your eyes, bright coloured fabrics following

·         It’s all just too much

·         There’s people everywhere and so much noise, so many colours and lights and people brushing past you…

·         Your fingers clench tight around his, his hand immersed in a glove to keep his freezing skin from chilling you too much

·         He squeezes back lightly, eyes shifting to glance down at you with the kindest smile on his lips

         + “Keep squeezing my hand whilst we find somewhere quieter to stand.”

·         Your fingers seemed to take turns pressing into his rock solid skin, an odd sort of comfort coming from the fact you know you can press down hard and he won’t so much as register the sensation, and Demetri squeezes back, just firm enough he knows you can feel the pressure of his palm on yours

·         He takes you to a quiet little side road where the noise is much more faded and there is so much free space around you you feel like you can finally breathe again

·         He still hasn’t stopped squeezing your hand, taking turns with you as you take some steady breaths and try to focus your senses a bit, one thing you can feel, two things you can see, three you can smell...

 ·         “I hope you can forgive me, I did not expect the market to be so busy today with the weather like this.”

·         His apology takes you completely by surprise because how would he even know you struggled with crowds? You barely know each other?

·         Seeing your surprise Demetri rather sheepishly admits as to what exactly he’s been reading all those nights you’ve seen him at his desk, and you’re a little overwhelmed to realise he’s been reading about you

·         Medical journals, mummyblogs, charity websites and more, if it had any information about autism and stimming he’s browsed through it and taken copious amounts of notes, observing you religiously to see what might be relevant to you and how he can help ·         +  “I read somewhere you self-stimulate to calm yourself when you are anxious or your senses feel overwhelmed, is that what happened?”                                    “Well, yes, actually, I…I…”

            “And did it help? Taking you away from the source of stress and letting you squeeze my hand like that?”

·         It had actually, you felt much calmer and Demetri’s obvious acceptance and willingness to help you manage your stimming and anxiety today were one of the first little moments you fell in love with him, looking back on it 

·         He didn’t stop there either. Together you sat down and made a list of all the things that you found most often triggered your stimming, and all of the things that brought you joy so he could figure out things to avoid and things you might like for your future dates

·         Within hours of arriving home you’d gotten a whole new daily routine set up so you weren’t left to languish and wonder what was going to happen next

·         Three days later an express shipment of your favourite smelling scented candles arrived alongside a Bluetooth speaker, supplies Demetri insisted were necessary for nice calming baths on the days your anxiety was playing up

·         He started doing mindfulness practices with you in the evenings

·         He never touched the volume controls for his laptop, speaker or TV, leaving it to you to control the volume so you could set it to a level you were comfortable with, and he religiously policed the noise on his floor to           + “Where are you going? The movie just started…”                                                    “To tell Felix to turn his music down.”               “You’re vampiring again Metri, I can’t even hear that.”

·         When he signed you up for Yoga and meditation classes at a centre in town you drew the line and told him he was going overboard, but bless him he had tried

·         Overall he’s a solid 15/10 for effort, even if some ideas are still experimental - you’re enjoying the deep pressure massages a lot though – and he sometimes goes a bit mother-hen trying to get you out of situations he thinks you’ll struggle with, when actually you’re coping just fine today

·         You love him dearly for it

[ciniis]

HEADCANON + hands.

GENERAL. hand headcanons because why the fuck not and i talk about his massive paws enough so might as well right? good. buckle up.

APPEARANCE. Ash is a 6′2″ beast of a man and his hands reflect that. His hands are large, he has a lot of grip strength in them so not only are they big but they are also chunky. His veins are extremely prominent, his nails are often trimmed closer to his fingertip. He does not like having long nails in his normal life at all. He doesn’t bite his nails, so unless the nails have been ripped off, they are generally smoothed. 

ACCESSORIES. Ash has multiple hand tattoos (which can be found here) which cover the back of his hand and the knuckles on all his fingers and both thumbs. in addition, as seen in the photos above, Ash wears chunky rings and jewelry on his wrists and fingers. He also loves to pain his nails black. He isn’t always the best at maintaining the nail polish so it’s more common to find him with chipped black nails than cleanly painted nails. 

DEMON FORM. In his demon form, Ash’s fingers turn into claws. The nail merges with the tip of his finger and blackens into a charcoal like colour that is matte to the finish. These are incredibly sharp and cut exactly like well maintained knives. They are half-way between human fingers and dragon talons. art by x.

HABITS. Ash is someone who likes to have his hands doing something when he’s anxious or under stress. He often plays with knives, or his lighter. He might even play with the rings on his fingers as well to keep them occupied. While Ash does not speak with his hands at all, he is expressive with them in other ways. He fists them, rubs his face with an open palm, squeezes his wrist, rubs the side of his neck, plays with them, etc. It’s not uncommon for people to watch his hands.

[cutegirlmayra]

I have this prompt for a sonamy fanfic, I'm not sure if you've already done something like this but here goes. This is set in either modern or boom, whatever one you think suits this... Amy is having nightmares and flashbacks about when she was kidnapped by metal Sonic and has been waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, Due to this, Amy hasn't had much sleep and has been more upset then usual and is more tired then usual. Sonic, who is concerned for his friend, tries to help her

Ah yes, I do know of this. It’s a headcanon of mine that Sonic helped Classic Amy out with nightmares, giving her confidence and strength that later helped her be the girl she is today—Fearless.

Debating on the two scenarios… I decided that in Boom, she’s too self-independent and snarky with Sonic, if he were to comfort her, she’d have to be pretty worn out and in the right mood, for the both of them, to get real and deep.

Seeing as that can be a challenge, I totally accepted it xD Even though Modern would be a bit more appropriate and interesting, since Boom!Amy was never kidnapped by Metal Sonic.

But maybe I can play with AU a bit… Boom is easier to manipulate in that regard cause there’s no exact structure on what ‘can/can’t’ happen, to say the least. They’re even looser with hinting than Modern, so I’ll do my best…

Wish me luck! :Db

Prompt:

“I’ve got it!” Amy hurriedly races towards Tails and Sticks’s table, changing out their dishes with a new bowl of fruit and refilling their drinks.

“Wow, thanks Amy!” Tails slurps a bit of his drink as he lounges back. “Any particular reason why you’re working so hard lately?”

“Nope! No reason!” Amy looks a little frazzled in her hair, before preparing the beachball by blowing it up and pumping it, looking like she had black under her eyes.

“No reason to not reason a get-together and treat friends… treat… treat friends…zzzzz…” she starts to doze off, before whipping her head up, slightly having leaned down on the pump, and gripping it tightly now.

“Ho! brblbrblbrbl!” she shakes her head to snap her out of her sleepiness, and starts to pump again.

Sticks suddenly stresses and yawns, before smacking her lips and getting up. “Well, this has been great Amy. But I gotta stash of booby-traps in chronological order.”

“What order is that?” Tails leaned up, confused on her phrasing, Amy behind him is freaking out, biting her nails as she hears they’re leaving.

“I predict the exact direction of each footfall that someone could make to set up whatever trap I place there. Maximum security means maximum consequences for breaking it.” Sticks nonchalantly explains, gesturing a hand out towards him to address his question.

“Sounds fun! I’ll help you out! sounds like you might need statistics on that footfall probability. I think it takes a certain amount of time for flight or fight response, so each footfall should be measured the same unit of distance and time with the speed-”

As they started to walk off, talking, Amy quickly raced in front of them, holding her hands out. “No!” she seemed a little crazy, before gripping her head and pushing her wild quills down. “Haha…ha.. aren’t we having fun!? Let’s stay and play some more board games or-or-or-!”

“Look. Amy. I love ya and all. But I need my space.” Sticks lowered her eyelids and just spoke as if letting Amy down gently.

“B-b-b-but-!”

“She’s right, Amy. You’ve been treating us all day. It’s like you wanted us to stay the night or something…” Tails waves her off and walks with Sticks, before stopping him with her arm and looking down.

“Wait! Step to the side. This is where my booby-traps of 30 and plus scenarios occur.”

They both side-step, with Tails’s arms up. “Y..You put them way out here?”

“Eh, I have spare funds for these things. It’s called a deep hole in the ground with lots and lots of savings.”

Amy looked worried, turning away and gripping her arms, before squinting her eyes shut and rushing into her home, slamming the door.

After being worried about her behavior, the two discuss Amy and decide Sonic should go visit her, since Knuckles was busy plugging in sandwich to the wall to ‘toast’ it.

When Sonic arrives, he opens the door to see Amy piled with sugar-candy, loaded on movies, and desperately huddled up trying to stay awake, even having the air-conditioning ridiculously cold again to keep her from falling asleep.

“Woah! Did you see your shadow or what!” Sonic teased, calling her a groundhog before walking in, and noticing her eye twitching.

“Woah… hold on, Amy.. you’re not pulling an all-nighter or something, are you? Cause this looks EXACTLY like that four season, romance-drama episode special you suffered through a month ago.” he acted like that was a mental episode she had as he gestured back with his thumb to show the timespan.

“…I.. I can’t sleep.” she was too tried, cold and shivering, and terribly lonely and scared to even fight him on this. “I… I’m afraid.” she covered her face, ashamed to admit it.

Sonic blinked his eyes, surprised by her sudden confession. “Oh.. um… okay. So we’re getting real now… heh.” he nervously scratched his head, looking away, and not sure how to address this.

“Look, I’m not the best at pick-up talks… or any… pick-up… stuff… but anyway!” he shook his head, hinting at his own flaw before moving on. “I mean, you don’t need to be scared of sleep! It’s a wonderful thing!”

“It’s not sleep!” she angrily lifted her head up again, out of the blanket. “It’s… what’s in the dream… when you fall asleep.” she looked down.

“…Tails and Sticks have been really worried about you… I think your lack of sleep is getting a little out of-” he scans the home, seeing it trashed, and for once, not his fault. “…hand.” he frowned, and walked over to her.

“What’s so terrifying? The dark?”

“…Eyes.”

“…Well, that is weird.” Sonic got goosebumps from that response.

“You talkin’ ghost or..?”

“No… Red… Glowing… Eyes…” Amy covered her head again.

“…Red and glowing..?” Sonic thought about it a moment.

“He’s not so scary now… but back then… I think I just over-exaggerate it in my memory but…”

Sonic suddenly connected dots, as his mind raced to when Amy was younger, and he first met her by saving her from-

“Ohh… I get it now.” He looked down from staring at the ceiling, bending to Amy’s level, and looking more real with her too.

“Metal me.” he narrowed his eyes.

Her little nose stuck out from the blanket, and she nodded.

He sighed, before rubbing his head and looking to her kindly.

He smiled and shrug, putting up an act. “Oh well, guess it can’t be helped!”

“Ah! W-what are you-!?!?!”

He darted and kicked into her blanket, forcing her to move as he snuggled tighter against the fabric, before his eyes blinked innocently out once he was comfortable.

“Looks like I’ll just have to kick that nightmare’s butt! All over again!” he smiled to her, and they shared a moment before he winked.

She smiled… before realizing something.

He was thrown out of her house.

“I’M A WOMAN. YOUR A MAN!” she shut the door.

He slowly put one hand out with the other to push off the ground from the face-plant, shaking his head.

“Now you remind me.” he rubbed his head, being silly with that comment, before getting up and looking back at her door.

“…Amy!” he cupped his hands around his mouth, having the sound travel.

She waited at the door, leaning against it, but he couldn’t see her.

“You have my full permission to dream about me! As long as I’m epically pwning that blue saucers butt!” He smiled, and turned to leave.

“Goodnight… Ames. I’ll dream of kicking his butt too! And saving you! All over again!”

She slowly let herself slip down the door frame, putting a hand to her heart, and smiling to herself….

(AWWW, so cute xD Still au, but eh :) I tried.)

[theranskahovs]

Wet *Piotr x Reader Smut*

Warnings: shower smut Word Count: 1400 A/N: I’m more of a slut for piotr than the brothers so hmu about requests or headcanons about him! also feedback is appreciated <3 Translations: кукла- doll. младенец- baby

"She's honestly being so annoying," you complain. Piotr just grunts in response, stepping under the shower's spray to wet his tan hair. 

You're telling your boyfriend about an argument with your best friend. He doesn't respond much, but you know he's listening. He's preoccupied with the thought of having to leave for the garage soon. 

It's not often that you two shower together, but you like it. Although it is a bit cramped, you like talking to him about the day and spending time with him before he goes to work. 

"I have to wash my face," you tell him, executing the awkward shuffle around each other. Piotr pats your butt as you wiggle past him, earning him a playfully stern look that says, "Don't start anything." 

 You shiver as you step from the cold end of the stall into the barely warmer spray. The water's been on for about five minutes, but it still runs cold sometimes. You blame the location of your apartment, in Hell's Kitchen the most you can expect is that it does have water. 

As you wash your face, the water unexpectedly turns hot. You let out an angry shout, moving back past Piotr and pushing the remaining suds from your face. "Your turn," you mumble, a bit harshly. 

Piotr notices your frustration at the small inconvenience. He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing gently. "Why are you so stressed, кукла?" He pulls you back a bit, so he can stay under the newly hot water but still hold you. You shrug, a small scowl sticking to your features. He presses a reassuring kiss to your shoulder. "C'mon, tell me. If you need something taken care of, just say the word." 

You smile slightly, turning to face him. "It's not like that, Petya." You push a damp strand of hair away from where it's sticking to your cheek. "It's just- life is fucking annoying. My apartment is disgusting, no matter how much I try to fix it, my job is frustrating, and now my best friend is apparently stabbing me in the back? I know I have it relatively easy compared to a lot of people, but is it too much to ask to have working pipes, goddamnit." You pound on the tiled wall once for emphasis. You swear you can hear rats scuttle inside it, and it makes you involuntarily shiver, despite the water being hot now. 

Piotr tilts his head to the side minutely, and tsk's at you. "But you have a great boyfriend, nyet?" You push his chest lightly, a laugh bubbling up from your throat. You realize how ridiculous you're being, but it's still frustrating to you.

 "He'd be even greater if he wouldn't push the shower head out of my reach," you joke. You stand on your tip toes to adjust the shower head so it reaches half on both of you. Water drips onto Piotr's face and he exaggeratedly wipes it off, flicking it at you. 

You flinch away from him, even thought you're already wet. You both laugh when you realize what you did, and he reaches out to tickle your sides, causing your laughs to increase tenfold. "Pi!" you wheeze out in between chuckles, "We're gonna slip!"

 He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle tightly. "Not on my watch." He mimics a stereotypically thick Russian accent. "Am big strong man." Tears form in your eyes as you laugh harder than you have in a while. 

Piotr smiles down at you, memorizing the way you look as you radiate happiness, even thought it's 7 in the morning. You notice him staring at you, and reach up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, starting to giggle anew when you don't quite meet your target. 

Piotr shakes his head, a loving look on his face, "You're adorable." He bends down to place a kiss to your forehead, his hand splayed across the back of your neck. Before he can fully pull away, you tilt you head up, your soft lips meeting his chapped ones in a gentle kiss. 

His hands travel from your neck to the dip of your back, pulling you into his body and deepening the kiss. You're so close your breasts push up against him, your nipples perking up when they touch his chest. 

His fingers stroke through your hair, accidentally catching in the tangled strands. He mumbles an apology, but before he's finished you press your lips back to his. His tongue brushes yours, and you gasp as his rough hands alternate from squeezing your ass to kneading your breast. 

Your palms press against his abs, feeling the firm muscles littered with scars from too many fights and narrow escapes. Your nails drag down below his belly button, over the hair scattered there and downward until your hand grasps his dick. 

You give him a few lazy pumps, leaving him panting into the kiss. His head drops to your shoulder as you stroke him, biting down just enough to leave a mark. He licks over the area to soothe the pain, and begins again in another spot. You moan softly at the feeling of him sucking on that special place behind under your ear. 

He laughs quietly into your neck, loving how he can get you turned on so fast. The irony hits him as you fondle his balls and he lets out a needy groan. 

His fingers slip in between your bodies, pushing two into your wet folds and immediately curling them. His thumb passes over your clit and you swear if he continues for only two more minutes you'll come. 

"Piotr," you whimper, needing to feel closer than you already are. 

"Alright, alright. Hang on, младенец," he murmurs. He bends slightly, hands grabbing onto the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up level to his dick. Your hands claw at his shoulder, and your legs wrap around his waist, terrified of falling. He presses you against the wall, and holds you steadily. He looks at you one more time, and you nod eagerly, knowing he's asking if you're ready.

 He enters slowly at first, stretching you out in an agonizingly slow manner. You always lose your breath at the feeling of him being inside you- it feels so perfect and right and you fit together like two puzzles pieces. Piotr exhales shakily before thrusting up into you, causing you to lean your head back against the shower wall. 

Water from Piotr's hair is dripping into his face as he thrusts into you determinedly, but it doesn't phase him. His breath is ragged as he leans in for a kiss, biting your lip gently. 

The tile wall is freezing against your back, your hair is falling in your face, and you're just close enough to the spray that it only reaches half your arm, but all your senses perceive is Piotr toying with your clit as he starts hitting that sweet spot in you. 

Your hands tug at his hair as you whimper in his ear. Your legs quake as you feel like a volcano is erupting inside of you, and pleasure ripples through you in seismic waves. 

Piotr isn't far behind, with a few more thrusts and the feeling of your walls tightening around him he comes, as well. He thumbs your clit gently as he draws out your orgasm. Piotr's forehead rests on yours as you both try to catch your breath. 

He holds you close for another minute or so, before gently pulling out and setting you back on the ground. Your legs feel shaky as you clutch his tattooed arm for support. 

He reaches out of the shower for a washcloth, and wets it in the water that has recently turned colder again. He lightly drags it up your thigh, cleaning you up. He places a kiss to your forehead and you close your eyes with a content sigh. 

"You don't seem to be stressed anymore," he perceives. All you can do is nod with a blissful smile on your face as he places his hand on your waist and pulls you in for a hug. 

In the back of your mind you remember he has to leave for work soon, and so do you, but for right now you're happy with staying under the water for just a few more minutes.

[forricher-andpoorer]

Robert Joseph “Hoodsey” Bishop Bio + Tags + Headcanons

Name: Robert Joseph Bishop Nicknames: Hoodsey, Hoods Age: 19; Can Change Birthday: March 15th Sign: Pisces Gender: Cis Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Homosexual Demiromantic Monogamous; Moderately Sexual Hair: Naturally Blond, slowly fading to brown Eyes: Pale Blue Skin: Pale Tan Height: 5′4″ Weight: 158 lbs Faceclaim: Jeremy Allen White Piercings: Mostly does play piercings with needles/strings/ribbons Tattoos: None Scars: A hole from a missing molar on the top right, a deep slice on the inside of his left thumb, a thin but long scar on his left forearm, a large almost knotted scar on his right wrist where the bone broke through once, and two holes (entry/exit wounds) on his left calf. Most of these injuries were sustained with Carl.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Religion: Raised Christian, Agnostic Allegiance: Carl Foutley

Family: David Charles Bishop (Father, Alive); Joann Bishop (Mother, Alive); Deirdre Hortense “Dodie” Bishop (Sister, Alive); Nana Bishop (Grandmother, Deceased)

Pets: Rock The Rock Rockson (Pet Rock)

Personality: Gullible, submissive, helpful, sweet, misguided, loyal, mama’s boy, devoted, selfless, compassionate, empathetic, artistic, intuitive, gentle, gross, squeamish, fearful, paranoid, too trusting, romantic, unconditionally generous (especially to Carl), easily embarrassed, socially awkward, follower, scapegoat, eats feelings, expressive, worrywart

Likes: Carl Foutley, bugs, frogs, any kind of fried food, his van, dogs, sugary sodas, gore, dismembered body parts, the petrified eyeball, pranking his sister and/or Blake Gripling, journalism

Dislikes: Blake Gripling, Pandering, Megalomaniacs, Brandon Higsby (his monkey’s cool though), Losing, When Carl doesn’t listen to him, being the butt of the joke, being naked around most people (Carl’s cool but he’d trust him with anything)

Can Do: Drive, play exactly three cords on a bass guitar, film things, watch horror movies, eat ungodly amounts of food, ignore everything for a project

Can’t Do: Handle secondhand embarrassment, allow Carl to get them hurt, kill something, take cough syrup, think for himself

Mental Health Diagnosis:

Schizotypal Personality Disorder: Hoodsey often has a hard time being followed when he speaks, or doesn’t make sense. He believes he has an extra sense of when he and Carl are going too far, or when they might get hurt. He also claimed to be able to completely understand Carl without speaking. He seeks isolation from most people, if only because Carl is the only person that understands him and nurtures his confidence.

Avoidant Personality Disorder: When not with Carl, he is incredibly shy and fears ridicule. All he wants is to be comfortable in his own skin but he’s so afraid without someone to give him orders.

Dependant Personality Disorder: Most people consider him to be constantly clinging to Carl, and they are rarely apart from one another. Most of his decisions are made exclusively after consulting Carl, or by Carl himself.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder: Often times, especially alone, he is so anxious to the point of chewing his nails or biting the skin off of his lips.

Physical Health Diagnosis:

Asthma: Sports had always been hard for him in school, and he was diagnosed with asthma shortly before middle school. He always carries his inhaler on him, and when he doesn’t have it, usually Carl has a spare for him.

Overweight: His pretty constant intake of everything has left him a bit overweight for his height. It doesn’t help his asthma all that much, and makes exercising a little more difficult.

Fears: Being abandoned, competitive situations, large crowds, being stalked/killed

Positive Traits: Gentle, loyal, optimistic, eager to please

Negative Traits: Gullible, easily embarrassed, shy, bottles up his feelings for Carl

Quirks: Always up for pranking others; uses his van as a trash can most of the time; always writes things down to remember them but misplaces the notes or doesn’t remember what it was supposed to remind him of; has a playlist on his iPod that is only What’s New Pussycat, It’s Not Unusual, and Never Gonna Give You Up for when he and Carl are in the mood to bother everyone.

Tends To: Follow Carl’s word above all else; fears his mother’s wrath and tries to do right by her and Carl at the same time; hide his feelings for Carl and thinks he’s slick but everyone else knows; Always have his phone, iPod, keys, wallet and inhaler in the same pocket

History: Hoodsey was two weeks late to his own birthday, he came out fairly healthy, if not a bit larger than he should have. Dodie was not stoked to have a little brother, but Hoodsey was always a sweet, clingy child. A natural-born follower, he did exactly what his mom said until he started Kindergarten.

The fateful day he met Carl Foutley changed everything. His attention, his clinginess, was divided between his mother and Carl. While he often tried to stop Carl in his mad bids for fame, fortune, and the truly gross, he let himself be steamrolled into everything after a mild fuss was put up. Over the years, he and Carl only grew closer.

Hoodsey strongly dislikes Blake Gripling, and while he will not quite admit it to himself, it’s only half because he’s annoying. The other half is definitely jealousy. Occasionally when his mother lets him go to concerts and things, he and Carl live in the back of his 1997 Chevrolet Astro.

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Tags List - Personal

Broke As A Junkie But I Have A Good Time (Hoodsey) I’m Pretty Sure My Mom Doesn’t Like This (Hoodsey’s IC Posts) The Purple Hoodie The Purple Hoodie Or The Purple Hoodie? (Hoodsey’s Closet) Oh Dude! (Hoodsey’s Stuff) Yes Yes Yes! (Hoodsey’s Desires) Gross Dude (Hoodsey’s Aesthetic) Never Have To Feed It (Rock The Rock Rockson Tag) It Was Just Never Gonna Give You Up On Repeat (Hoodsey’s Music) Thinking Is A Dangerous Past Time (Hoodsey Musings) Snips Snails And Puppy Dog Tails (Hoodsey Headcanons)

Tags List - With X - Canon

Tastefully Tasteless (Hoodsey And Blake Gripling) At Least Let The Monkey Have Fun (Hoodsey And Brandon Higsby) My Best Friend’s Hot (Hoodsey And Carl Foutley) She’s Like A Princess In A Tower (Hoodsey And Courtney Gripling) Can I Have The Headgear When You’re Done? (Hoodsey And Darren Patterson) You’re Not A Lady You’re Nothing But A Sister (Hoodsey And Dodie Bishop) Kind Of Like A Sister To Me (Hoodsey And Ginger Foutley) Mother/Jailer (Hoodsey And Joann Bishop) The Mother I Never Had (Hoodsey And Lois Foutley) Weird In A Different Way (Hoodsey And Macie Lightfoot) May She Rest Knowing The Worms Have Eaten Her Corpse (Hoodsey And Maude) Mean Girls (Hoodsey And Mipsy Mipson) Mean Girls 2: Fucking Furious (Hoodsey And Miranda Killgallen) Bandaid Queen (Hoodsey And Noelle Sussman) A Dweeb’s Workhorse (Hoodsey And Winston)

Tags List - With X - OC

None At This Time

Tags List - With X - Crossover

A Little Crazy Is OK As Long As Nobody Says Any Dirty Words (With Jerome Valeska)

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Verses - In-World

Someone Once Told Me The Grass Is Much Greener (Hoodsey’s Elementary Verse)

Already thick as thieves with Carl, Hoodsey is very much his go-to yes-man and best friend. He was so happy just to have a friend that he’d almost do anything for Carl. By first grade, he knew the feeling of being truly wanted by someone.

Everything Is Alright (Hoodsey’s Middle School Verse)

His schoolwork suffered greatly in Middle School and he skipped more often. When his mother found out he was grounded for three months, and when he was finally out of solitary confinement, he stayed at the Foutley’s for over a week.

Partner In Crime (Hoodsey’s High School Verse)

Hoodsey handled a lot of AP classes because of his mom, as well as band and his photojournalism club/classes. Between school, extra curriculars, and his time with Carl, he was pretty busy and stressed. For two weeks during his Senior year, he ended up in the hospital because he had a nervous breakdown. Being away from Carl and not allowed visitors was almost harder on him.

Brain Stew (Hoodsey’s College Verse)

Finally being out of his parents’ house for college, Hoodsey goes a little wild when he finally realizes that he is free. Anything goes, and he wants to try as many things as he can. He’s going to film school.

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AU Verses

Running Up That Hill (Hoodsey’s ABO AU)

Hoodsey is an Omega that probably takes way too many scent blockers and heat suppressants. His mother is so controlling that she is still hoping that there is some way to get her son and daughter to switch secondary sexes.

Admitting Guilt (Hoodsey’s Deadman Wonderland AU)

After being neutralized and turned into an Undertaker, Hoodsey stayed mostly to himself. He can’t remember much beyond his turning. All he knows is that he lost something, and he wants to get it back.

Green Around The Gills (Demon!Hoodsey AU)

A lesser demon of Envy, Hoodsey has a tendency to cling onto one person and leech off of their emotions. He loves to provoke people with misunderstandings the most.

A Caged Bird Sings (Mer!Hoodsey AU)

Hoodsey is a Royal Gramma Fish, kept in a tank at an aquarium. He sings a sad song all night long in hopes that someone will come and let him out, though most people tend to ignore him. On land he loses his sense of taste.

Not A Fun Job (Hoodsey’s Repo! The Genetic Opera AU)

A backdoor Gentern, Hoodsey administers illegal Zydrate to patients of Carl’s. He isn’t entirely sure why he has to wear the dress.

And Everything You Touch Shall Be Destroyed (Vampire!Hoodsey AU)

Hoodsey was turned late one night while walking back home from work. His van was out of commission, and the second that he was grabbed, he was sure he was being mugged. Being so sweet, he was allowed to go after feeding the vampire, who came back night after night to see him and feed from him. They are very good friends, and Hoodsey was eventually turned to keep him from dying due to stomach cancer.

He’s A Good Dog Blake (Werewolf!Hoodsey AU)

Hoodsey didn’t quite understand that when he was bitten by a weird dog while walking home from Carl’s one night that his life would change forever. Ever since, he has found a way to use his powers for the betterment of the two of them, even if it has made him more aggressive and territorial.

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Shipping

None At This Time

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Open Starters

None At This Time

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Headcanon Posts

* ( positive personality   traits!

Physical Traits Of Your Muse

Detailed Profile Tag

Bold Your Muse’s Aesthetic (Spooky Edition)

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Faceclaim - Jeremy Allen White