#tw mentions of cigarettes

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

11: New Sun, New People

Eddie's pov

Stepping into the light feels so good. I'm able to pull down my bandana for the first time in god knows how long.

"This is the sun! This is light!" I exclaim. No response. I swivel around, looking for Otto.

I can't find her, but there is a clearly trampled through path through the woods.

"Fuck!" I smooth back my hair and roll my eyes, but follow the trail nonetheless.

Otto's pov

"WHO ARE YOU?" Someone yells to me. I cling to who knows what, swimming in a large tub of water.

"Otto! Otto!" I say, but the person keeps yelling.

"DID YOU TAKE EDDIE?" The person yells again, but I can says something else now.

"Know Eddie! I know Eddie!" I shout.

"OTTO!" Eddie comes run in, and the first person stops yelling. I paddle fast out of the tub and hide behind Eddie.

"Dustin?" Eddie asks. I struggle out of the big tub, and hide behind Eddie.

"Eddie? You know this little- this little person?" Dustin asks.

Eddie's pov

"Eddie, don't let person hurt me," Otto whispers. She looks at me, and I almost jump at how different her eyes look. The sudden brightness has caused them to constrict, and her once large pupils are now small as a pinprick.

"Dustin!" I shout, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. "Oh man, I missed you so much dude!"

"Eddie, holy shit, I thought you were gone!" Dustin says. "But, uh... what's up with the girl?" He whispers.

I turn around, and Otto is  crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around her head. She's bent over something, I just can't tell what. I walk over, and bend down next to her.

"Otto, are you okay?"  I ask cautiously. She turns to me, and shakes her head weakly. Her mouth opens, and inky black liquid flows out.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shouts. Immediately, I scoop her into my arms.

"Dustin, we need to get her somewhere dark and out of the sun right now!" I shout.

"Uh, okay, so we need to go north! Forward!" Dustin shouts. I start running, and follow every one of his directions until we break through the treeline.

Steve's pov

Dad left an hour ago for his business trip. Thank god. He'll be gone for a few days, Mom is staying with Grammy, so I have the house to myself.

I'm watching a movie in my room when the door bursts open.

"STEVE WE'RE BORROWING YOUR HOUSE IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" Dustin screams from downstairs.

"What the fuck is going on?" I ask, running down the stairs. The bathroom door is open with the light is off, and a filthy looking Dustin is standing over an even grimier-

"Munson?" I ask.

"Shut up Harrington, we're trying to save a life here!" Eddie says, splashing water over something lying in the bathtub.

"What the hell does he have there?" I ask Dustin.

"A kid." Dustin replies with such nonchalance about this that you'd almost think he was joking.

"Did he like... get a girlfriend?" I ask nervously.

"No. He just, like, appeared out of nowhere with her?" Dustin explains. "She's super weird. She's very small and looks like she's younger than me? Also her eyes are crazy looking and she started throwing up this weird, black stuff. Eddie's insisting she needs darkness and to cool down, so that's what's happening."

I sweep the curtain aside, and observe what's going on. The tap is on, and Eddie scoops handfuls of water onto the small girl. The dress thing she's wearing is stained with black, and the water is muddled and full of debris and dirt. Despite Eddie's attempts, the girl's eyes stay closed and black stuff continues to dribble out her mouth.

"Uh, Munson, you want me to help?" I offer.

"I got it!" Eddie insists. He douses her face one more time, and her eyes open.

I jump back. Her eyes are HUGE.

"You know what? I think maybe I'll go turn off the lights and draw the blinds," I say. I grab Dustin and pull him out the door with me.

"Dustin. What the fuck is going on, man? You said this girl was weird, you didn't say she was like supernatural weird!"

"You couldn't figure that out when I said crazy eyes and hurling black stuff?" Dustin asks. "Look. How about you go cook something up? This new person will be hungry. Okay? And I'm going to gather some members of the party and some other people, so we can brainstorm ideas on what the everloving fuck is going on. Okay?"

"Okay," I say shakily. "Thank you."

"Okay. You're welcome." Dustin runs out the front door. I walk into the kitchen slowly, and begin trying to find something I can cook.

About an hour later, Dustin shows back up, with a few Party members (excluding Max and Lucas, of course), Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan with his friend. All I've managed to do in that time is slice up a watermelon and get a tray of frozen fries in the oven.

"Alright everybody, I've gathered you here today to-" Dustin starts.

"Uh, why is it all dark in here?" Robin asks.

"Excellent question. Today's presentation requires darkness, or bad things will happen. Eddie, you can come out now!" Dustin calls.

Eddie walks out, by himself.

"So, ah, hey! Everybody!"

The room erupts into shouts and exclamations at my arrival.

"Thank you, thank you everybody," I start. "But, my returning is not what Dustin got you all for. You see, while I was gone, I may or may not have found something in the Upside Down that is now here. And I thought I'd just say this preface, because she can be, uh, unpredictable." I smile weakly at everybody, they return the favor with confused looks. "Otto, you can come out now if you'd like."

The bathroom door creaks open, and the sound of quick footsteps fills the silence.

"Eddie, who is this 'Otto'? And where is she?" Nancy interjects.

"Here," Otto says. As everyone's eyes adjust, they can make out her small silhouette next to me. The red glint of her glasses are the only thing noting she's there.

"Otto, I'm going to turn on a very dim light. It would be like my cigarette and your firework punk being lit at the same time, okay?" I explain. Otto nods. I nod at Dustin, who throws a blanket over a lamp and switches it on. Soft light fills the room, and everyone stares at Otto. The water in her hair has turned into mud, and since her sun exposure, her skin is a flushed shade of red. Her dress is even more torn and ratty, if that's even possible. A small, spider-esque creature crawls through her hair.

"Hi Otto!" Someone pipes up from the back. Otto waves a little bit. I can tell Otto isn't interested in transforming or talking or doing any of that, and everyone else can tell she isn't going to do anything, and they all get up to talk in small groups. In all the bustle, the person who said hi wanders over. She's a small girl, who looks very similar to Otto. Her head is shaved, and she's dressed in an oversized flannel.

"Otto, this is-"

"El! El, short for Eleven," El smiles. "Hi Otto!"

"Hello. As Eddie said, I is Otto." Otto runs her hand through one of her twintails nervously, and chunks of mud and other debris crumbles to the floor.

"You talk like me!" El says excitedly. "Mike says I am getting better at my grammar, but I think that to sound like this is okay!"

"Mike?" Otto asks.

"Mike is my boyfriend. He is over there!" El motions to a little but away, where Mike gathers another boy and Dustin. He looks nervous, awkwardly waving his hands as the second boy talks to him. Hm.

"Boyfriend?" Otto asks. "Is that like when Eddie talked in his sleep about-"

"Well Otto, you've scattered one too many bugs across this lovely living room carpet, who about we get you back into the bathtub and taking a shower?"

[2kiran]

18+ DOM DEADPOOL X M!READER

Thinking about WADE WILSON trapping you in his grasp, his masked chin perched on your shoulder and his blood-tinted leather glove shoved in-between your thighs. He reeks of impending doom, the scent combining with his natural aroma.

“Oh, no, no, don’t run from it, pretty boy.” WADE clicks his tongue, shaking his head as you squirm. His arm snaking around your waist tightened its grip, clutching you firmly against his front.

He sneaks his hand beneath your pants, wrapping it around the base of your hard cock before freeing it from your boxers. But he doesn’t allow the cool air to hit your sensitive hardness, choosing to toy with you by keeping it hidden under your shirt. You grunt, reaching to hold onto his knees. “W—wade.” You croak, trying not to buck your hips up.

WADE hums curiously, indicating that he was listening. With one finger, he maps out the silhouette of your length through the soft material. He’s enjoying this, and that fact is one he isn’t afraid to admit. “Hmm? D’ya want somethin’, baby?”

Despite his question, he doesn’t quite let you answer. Suddenly, his thumb presses down against the side of your tip, staring in great awe at how pre-cum begins to dampen the fabric. Your dick twitches from the stimulation, and you can’t prevent the plea from leaving you. “Stop teasin’ me, please.”

You can nearly feel his lips stretch upwards into a cocky grin. His palm rests flat on your length, gently rubbing up and down. Every time WADE’S finger went to messily massage your frenulum, your shirt would press into your skin and increase your responsiveness, making you uncontrollably throb. “Awww, we both know you don’t mean that. Our buddy over here likes it.” He teases, shifting to properly but lazily jerk you off.

His hand clenches when it curls ‘round your shaft, balancing you on the point of experiencing a high but never enough for you to actually reach it. WADE WILSON knows you can handle a tad of edging. “Be a good boy, c’mon that’s it, just a liiiiiiil’ bit more.”

[slytherinboysappreciation]

JEGRNEISUB smoker mattheo riddle x non smoker gn/male reader who start dating but since reader doesn't smoke they try to force mattheo to stop smoking by not kissing him on the lips

Like imagine him wanting to kiss you on the lips since before y'all started dating and now that he's dating you he can't cs he smokes and you hated kissing your smoker ex before you met him AND whenever you dobkiss him it's always on the corner of his lips and he tries to turn his head but you stop all contact and he js whines and begs but you stand your ground until he goes cold turkey

Cold turkey mattheo is always jittery and annoyed to the point his friends are complaining about him to you but mattheo finaly gets his kisses from you and he just thinks "damn this was worth it"

Now everytime he gets a nicotine craving he je kisses you HELPEHELPEHELP

(You should totally write this *winks*)

(No pressure though)

Smoker - M. R. x gn!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this is what you were wanting! I’m sorry about the ending; I’ve been on a streak of not knowing how to end fics well, apparently.

Fic is entirely unedited with no use of Y/N. Please let me know if I missed tagging something!!! Gif found on Pinterest here

CW: Lots of mentions of smoking and cigarettes; one mention of getting high; one mention of future death due to smoking; mentions of reader’s ex; mentions of kissing; kissing; angst, I guess??; pet names; Mattheo’s puppy eyes; begging; Theo gets rather frustrated in this; annoyed words towards reader; cursing; mentions of complaining; lots of kissing at the end; Mattheo being soft

1493 words

You’ve been dating Mattheo for almost a week now, and you’re getting tired of his smoking habits.

Since before you began dating, you’ve done everything you can to dissuade him from the habit. Everything aside from going and throwing away his stash yourself, that is.

But it’s no use. Theo chainsmokes like he’s planning his early death, and Enzo gets high every other day. Neither of them are much help when it comes to getting Mattheo to quit.

It’s not that you hate the smoking itself; it’s that you hate the smell. The lingering stench of acrid smoke that follows Mattheo no matter how many times he brushes his teeth or changes his clothes.

It lingers in his hair. On his skin.

It disgusts you. Your ex had been a smoker and the stench of cigarettes had followed him everywhere. Now the smell reminds you of him and his horrid habits.

You don’t want Mattheo to be connected to such a person, but he won’t listen to you when you beg him to quit.

So you resort to drastic measures.

It starts after class. Mattheo and Theo head off to go smoke, leaving you to hatch your plans.

And oh what a good plan you hatch.

It’s simple, really. But you’re pretty sure it’ll be effective. After all, there’s nothing Mattheo loves more than kissing you.

He returns with just enough time to walk you to your next class. You chat idly as you walk, going on about the new music album Pansy had shared with you. Mattheo nods along, smiling as he listens to you talk.

When you reach your class, Mattheo leans in for a kiss like he normally does, but you turn your head. His kiss lands on your cheek, rather than your lips.

He pulls back, startled and confused. “Babe?”

“Hmm?” You go to head into class, but he grabs your arm.

“What’s wrong?” He looks so concerned, his puppy eyes already starting to show.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. Mattheo tries to turn his head to catch your lips but you pull back.

“See you after class, Matty.”

“But…” He trails after you. “Did I do something?”

Your heart aches. Why does he have to look so pitiful when he’s sad?

“Matty…”

“Mr Riddle.” It’s your professor, looking vaguely annoyed. “Last time I checked you weren’t in this class.”

Mattheo opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off by kissing his cheek again. “I’ll talk with you after class. I promise.”

He wilts a bit, still giving you his sad puppy eyes. But, slowly, he turns and leaves the classroom.

You take your seat, already feeling miserable. This plan is going to be harder than you thought.

Mattheo ambushes you after class is over. He’s there at the door, grabbing your arm and hauling you along after him. A small handpicked bouquet of flowers is stuffed into your hands.

“Matty, what the—“

He pulls you into an empty classroom and turns to face you, giving you the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “What did I do, baby? Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches. With a sigh, you set down the flower bouquet on a desk and reach out to cup his face in your hands. “You didn’t do anything, love.”

“Then why won’t you let me kiss you?” He leans in, as if to try right then.

You pull back a bit, covering his mouth with your hand. You take a deep breath and gather your courage. “I don’t like it when you smoke, Matty.”

His brow furrows, but you continue. “I’ve tried everything I can, but you just won’t listen. So, until you stop smoking, I’m not going to kiss you anymore.”

Mattheo stares at you. He pulls your hand away from his mouth. “What?”

You fiddle with a curl of his hair, doing your best to hold his gaze. “No more kisses until you stop smoking.”

“But— But—“ He gapes at you in disbelief. “You— You can’t do this!”

You cross your arms, hoping you sound more stern than you feel. “I can and I am.”

“But, my kisses!”

“You can have your kisses after you stop smoking.”

Mattheo looks desperate. “Babe. Baby. My love. Come on. Please, it’s just— Smoking’s not even that big of a deal!”

“It is to me,” you say firmly. Inside, you’re dying; melting at his puppy eyes and distressed look.

“Baby, baby, please.” He takes your hands in his, giving you a pleading look. “Please don’t do this. I love your kisses.”

You can’t bear to hold his gaze any longer so you look away. “I know you do. That’s why I’m doing this. Maybe you’ll finally quit.”

“But—“

“I’ve made up my mind, Mattheo, and you’re not going to change it,” you say firmly. His expression crumples.

It hurts too much, so you gently pull your hands from his.

“I’ll see you later.” You give him a kiss on the corner of his lips. He doesn’t react, just gives you a morose stare.

You sigh and turn away. Surely, he’s just being dramatic? There’s no way this plan will work, right?

Wrong.

It takes Mattheo a week to give up his cigarettes. A week of whining and bemoaning and complaining.

A week of sad puppy eyes everytime you give him a kiss on his cheek or on the corner of his lips. A week of dodging his head turns and sneak kisses.

It’s just as painful for you as it is for him.

But, finally, he quits.

You make him wait three more days.

By the second day, Theo comes to you, scowling. “You’ve turned him into a damn right menace, you know that?”

You’re in the middle of doing your Charms homework, and have to pause to answer him. “What do you mean?”

“He’s as jittery and as pissed off as I’ve ever seen him. He nearly punched me in the face for suggesting he chill out.”

You blink. “He’s… Oh, from the withdrawal.”

“Yeah, from the withdrawal,” Theo says sarcastically. “You’ve turned him into a menace!”

You cross your arms. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten him addicted, he wouldn’t be so cross right now.”

“It’s just a few bloody cigarettes a day!” Theo snaps back. “What’s it to you?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t—“ Theo cuts himself off and sighs. “Bloody hell. You’re almost as bad as he is.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way,” he amends. “You’re stubborn as hell and fight for what you want. I can see why he likes you so much.”

You scowl, but let him go without comment.

More of Mattheo’s friends try complaining to you about him, but find you wholly unsympathetic. You’re firm in your stance about Mattheo quitting, much to their frustration.

But it’s all worth it when you finally let Mattheo have his kisses.

You’re expecting the bombardment of kisses from Mattheo. You’re not expecting the genuine relief in his expression when you kiss him on the lips again.

He sighs happily and gives you a dreamy look. “Merlin, I love your lips. I’d give up cigarettes a thousand times for your kisses.”

Your cheeks heat. “Matty…”

“Nuh-uh.” He leans in to kiss you again. And again. And again. “I get to have my special time with your lips. No denying my compliments allowed.”

You laugh softly and melt into his next kiss. “Alright. I suppose I can deal with that.”

Mattheo just grins into the kiss and pulls you closer.

For the next few days after your reconciliation, Mattheo is incessant about kissing you.

It’s immediately after class, during study sessions, after meals, and before bed. Anytime he can get his hands on you, his mouth finds yours.

It’s only when Pansy makes a comment about it that you finally think to ask Mattheo about it.

You’re studying in your room with him. Well, you’re studying; he’s pressing soft kisses to your cheek and jaw.

“Are you really that obsessed with kissing me?”

Mattheo leans in to kiss your cheek again. “Always, babe.”

You nudge him, smiling. “No, be serious. Not that I mind it, but you’ve been very clingy these past few days. Why?”

He hums and nuzzles along your jawline. “I get these cravings. Every time I used to smoke. But I quit, so now I kiss you instead.”

You pause, pulling away to properly look at him. Your gaze is soft, affectionate. “You… You keep from smoking again… by kissing me?”

He blushes a bit and leans in to give you a kiss on the lips. “Well, yeah…”

“That’s actually kinda cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles.

“So, does it work? Kissing me?”

“Yeah, but…” he smirks. “I should probably try again, you know, just to make sure.”

You make no protest when he kisses you deeply. He deserves it, after all.

And not just for his smooth comment.

[vicious-daughter-of-zeus]

closed rp starter: mental breakdown with a big ol’ trigger warning

chat this one comes with a MASSIVE trigger warning for the following: sh, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, murder/death, cigarettes, and alcohol

I can however tone it down a little bit, just let me know if you need me to not mention any of these things and I will not mention any of it.

and since it’s a closed starter only interact if you’re close with elektra (aka if you’re in the pinned post). I probably won’t be tagging you here since I’m massively afraid of triggering people.

post for context

it was the day after the mysterious figure had come and taken elektra’s necklace. She was finally free. Then why did she feel so fucking sad? This was a moment she had always fantasized about: a day where she would no longer bear the curse of her necklace, and yet now that this day was here, why was she acting like this?

You found elektra sitting on the floor of the bathroom, she seemed like an entirely different person. All that composure, all that attitude, completely gone. Her eyes were red and her makeup was smudged. All she had on was a tank top and some shorts; you could see knife scars lined up and down her arms and legs with a lichtenberg figure on her right shoulder. Now that her necklace was really gone, you could see bruises around her neck from how often she would yank on it. There were lots cigarette ends and half-empty alcohol bottles littered around the room. She played with a beat up pocket knife in her hands.

[loonadelfly]

>Do coke for 50 hours in a row

>Stay awake for 2 days

>Have the most fucked up nosebleed of your life and almost OD

>drink wine and repeat

[bored-boring-and-tired]

i swear if i see one more tori spring moodboard with cigarettes and stacks and stacks of books tagged “#lana del ray” im gonna cry /lh

[killerssideblog]

this user, substances edition. no judgement if you use these, i made them for a reason.

[3-2-whump]

Falling Like Snow

<prev next>

The penultimate chapter, can you believe it? Break out the tissues for this one, folks.

Thanks again @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz, you two are the best!

Obligatory Author's Note: This is it, folks, the end of Tom's story. Sorry to those who wished for a miracle, and congratulations to those of you rooting for his demise. You know exactly what to do if you desire a different ending. Fanfiction, canon divergence -the world is your oyster, so just go for it! I encourage it, if anything! Just, you know, tag me or let me know in some way. But anyway, here we go

TW/CW: major character death, blood, gore (?) (tagging it just to cover my bases), aftermath of torture, cigarette whump (brief), emotional angst, slave whump, noncon nudity (in the first half), Stockholm Syndrome (maybe?) (like the beginnings of it), but more so, emotional angst. So much angst. Please let me know if I missed anything though! Enjoy

From: Master Forgot about a meeting I have tonight. Be home late. Wait for me.

Khaled noted the time the message was sent, and compared it to how late at night/early in the morning it now was. He wondered if his master was out drinking, or whoring, or whatever it was he got up to when he’d stay out late on short notice. Not like it was his business anyway.

Khaled yawned, shaking out the numbness in his legs from his kneeling position next to the couch. He put away the plate of food on the table that had long gone cold by now. His own stomach gurgled with the need to eat something, but he dared not touch any of the food he carefully stowed away.

With the leftovers sorted out, there was nothing to do but put the dishes in the dishwasher and start the cycle. The kitchen, as well as the rest of the apartment, was spotless, since now he had nothing else to do but keep it clean. Khaled returned to his place on the bare living room floor, grabbing a blanket off the couch as an afterthought as he wrapped it around his nude frame. He was forbidden from wearing any clothes now, as the man who owned him was just a little too eager to see his ‘beautiful body,’ as he called it, and did not want anything obstructing its form. He’d watched in abject horror as all but a few changes of clothes were burned before his eyes and the rest had been locked in a safe. It had been a cold February ever since.

“I like you more like this,” his master had told him. “You’re far more cuddly like this, love, far more tactile.”

That’s another thing; Master was saying the word ‘love’ a lot more, averaging at least one “I love you Khaled” per day for the past two weeks. More than a little overwhelming, the frequency at which he’d expressed his affections seemed just this side of insincere. The three little words Khaled had craved for so many years now sounded so flat and fake, given everything else that had happened to him. How could anyone who isolates a man from his friends, from his job, from the world itself claim to love him? How was any of what he went through love?

What was more unbearable was when he was expected to say it back.

And he would say it back, a strained ‘I love you too’ that grated against his throat like swallowing broken glass. Yet, with a defeated resignation, Khaled realized it had gotten much easier to say, with enough repetition. If he said ‘I love you too, Master’ enough times, he may actually begin to believe it. It was only a matter of time until he would say it and mean it, if his enforced isolation continued much longer. Thomas Costa and Luca Bianchi were the only other human beings he had seen for two weeks now; he had no idea how he was strong enough to deal with this for more than a year when he was a child!

He positioned himself on his side, his sore back facing the door and his head facing the wide windows of the living room overlooking the city skyline. Outside it began to snow. The white, fluffy flakes were a vision of beauty flying against the heavy gray sky. Khaled’s eyelids drooped as he watched the snow fall in the greyish-white winter night. It was cold, yes, but beautiful, like him, he guessed.  His last conscious thoughts were wondering when his master would come home to him. Regardless of whether he loved him back or not, he was cold, so cold without him.

-

It was cold, so cold, on the dirty concrete floor. Not even the blood pouring out of his lacerated wounds could keep him warm anymore. Above him, Julio circled him like a vulture, taking a long drag of his cigarette before throwing it lit-end first at Thomas’ face. The beaten man was too far gone to even flinch.

Damn, is this how Khaled felt when I cut him? he deliriously wondered. With all that Julio and the Juicio Divino boys had done to him, he doubted he’d ever get the chance to ask.

Khaled. There are so many things Thomas now wished he did differently. He should’ve been kinder, more patient, should’ve protected him from the world, from his men -even from himself. Especially from himself.

“Khaled…” he moaned.

A blood-speckled Nike connected painfully with his side. “You dare call out to him, even now?!” Julio growled icily. He kicked Thomas again.

“Julio, just kill him already, for fuck’s sakes,” a voice shouted from the corner of the warehouse. The traitor –Nico- stood off to the side, icing his bashed-in face with some snow wrapped in shirt fabric. “You’re worse than a cat that plays with the mouse it caught!” he admonished. As furious and confused and disappointed as Thomas was about the Clemenza boy betraying him like this, the primal animal part of him was grateful that he was asking for mercy on his behalf.

Although he could no longer raise his head to see past Julio’s ankles, Thomas could feel the assassin roll his eyes above him as he cursed in Spanish. The next thing he knew, Julio was crouching down to his level. He tried to mentally prepare for whatever would happen next.

Julio sunk his fingers into his short, blood-soaked hair, wrenching his head back as he held up a now-very-familiar knife to Thomas’ throat. “Any last words, puto?”

So many last words.

So many things to apologize for.

So many words left unsaid. Not just to Khaled, but to Callahan, to Trémeaux, to Robinson, Kreuger, Martinez, Kościelsky, and of course to Tony. Young Tony, dear Tony, high as fuck at a church wedding Tony. His pain in the ass little brother and his only constant in his childhood, who never lived to see twenty-two years old.

Khaled and Tony were a lot alike in some ways. Smarter than they thought they were, yet looked up to him for no explicable reason. It was a shame Thomas never consciously noticed that similarity until now.

All this time, Thomas thought he bought Khaled as a form of penitence, to make up for killing that boy who was suspected of killing his brother. And while, yes, that was partially why he bought him, maybe he also bought Khaled as a way resurrect his brother. It had been so long since he’d seen warm brown eyes look up at him, he didn’t even know he missed it until he saw Khaled’s eyes that day.

“Forgive me…” he rasped.

Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was the certainty that this was the end, making him see things, but for a second, Thomas saw a crack in that frosty glare Julio bore down onto him. For a brief second, a painful mix of shock, anger, sadness, and even sympathy flashed within Julio’s golden eyes, before the glacial cold vengeance covered them in its frosty glare once again.

“See you in hell,” Julio murmured.

A sharp pain sliced its way into his jugular and down. (Who the hell slices down?!) As the pain dulled and his vision started to go, Thomas’ ebbing consciousness latched onto a memory, one of the fondest memories he had of Khaled.

He’d had an intense nightmare within the first month of buying his new slave, and instead of deriding him or prying for more details than he was owed, the boy had heated him a cup of milk, rubbed his back, and stayed up with him until he was ready to go to sleep again, just like how he and Tony used to comfort each other after a nightmare. As the last threads of his vision faded and the boss’ surroundings sunk into darkness, he swore he could still hear younger Khaled’s words that night, murmured shyly as he still had his accent.

“Sleep well, Master.”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[jokerislandgirl32]

Idk if you got this ask already because it glicthed out before it sent…So pls ignore this if you already got the ask

I’m pretty sure stone (from ramshackle) and zach are related (ik it will never be canon but I may make an au based on it-)

They both have black hair green eyes and pale skin

They look very similar (besides like the art style and other differences ofc)

Honestly zach would fit right into the ramshackle universe cause of the amount of crazy shenanigans going on (I mean the pilot/episode one was wild lol /pos)

I hope you liked my silly comparison :3

(Feel free to put this in ramshackle fandom tags lol)

(And yes I am having an insane urge to make an au about it lol)

Oh my goodness, thank you for sending this (it only sent once 😊), it is so silly and far fetched but it’s perfect, and I just love it!

They are cousins….I’m calling it! They are cousins! I feel like Zach’s the older cousin, based on vibes I’m getting from Stone, but Stone seems like the wise younger cousin. He seems like he’d be one of the few people that could get through to Zach and make him listen when Zach’s on one of his man child rampages.

I don’t know much about Ramshackle, but if it’s got some crazy antics going on, Zach would fit right in. As for the similarities in appearance, their families must have a code where you wear the most boring clothing you can find in the most plain colors imaginable: Black and gray…specifically black turtlenecks and gray pants/slacks with black boots/shoes.

Then for the record…Stone looks exactly like I imagine/headcanon teenage Zach to look…the messy wavy hair and moody persona…yes, just yes, they are cousins! And I think Zach was a heavy smoker in his younger years, so seeing Stone with the cigarette just confirms this possibility even more (they are smokers ranting and raving about life together 😮). And I saw that Stone is a drinking and I also headcanon Zach and a heavy drinker in his past so yet ANOTHER thing they have in common and would do together.

If you do make an AU about this I’d be so excited to hear about it! It would be like our f/os are actually related! And if our f/os are related does that mean our s/is are like in-laws or something 😁😁😁😁😁!

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

4: New Life

Eddie's pov

My leg shivers. Something stretches up my calf, over my jeans.

I sit up.

The vines circle around me. I strain for my cigarettes and lighter, but can't reach them.

"Help! Anybody!" I shout. Nothing happens. The vines get closer to my face, ensnaring around my chest and making it hard to breathe. The vines are wet and cold, and they pulse and ooze in a way that makes me want to throw up.

Then I'm freed. Something tears at the vines, ripping them away from me. It's a person. A small girl. Another human. For a moment, I gape in surprise. Then, I regain feeling in my lower body and lunge at her, hugging her.

"Thank you! You, are no joke, the coolest, I owe you big time, you just saved my life!" I exclaim, the words tumbling out quickly. The person pulls away. I examine her. She has light hair pulled into two twintails, and shaded glasses obscure her face.

She murmurs a small sound, nods at me, and skitters out the door.

"Wait!" I call. She doesn't turn back. I stumble up, grab my backpack, and follow her. She's fast. I can hardly keep up as she weaves through vines and slides under debris.

I stop. My chest is heaving, sweat pours down my face. But the girl has stopped too. She's perched on a block of rubble, staring at me with her head cocked.

"Hey," I try to start conversation again, but she stays silent. I rummage though my bag, and pull a mildly crushed Zotz out. I unwrap it, and hold it out. The girl tentatively reaches out, and stuffs the Zotz in her mouth.

"Hey."

"She speaks!" I chuckle.

"Hey."

"Say anything other then 'hey'?" I ask, unwrapping another Zotz and placing it near me. She takes it, and perches next to me.

"Anything other than hey?" She asks. Her voice is raspy, and the words sound clunky. "I say... where. I say who. I say fuck."

"Fuck? You must be a sturdy gal if your going around in here saying words like that."

"Yes... I a sturdy gal." She straights up, and pulls her glasses off. I examine her eyes. They're bright green, so bright it's one of the only colors I can make out on her, and are so wide they take up nearly a fourth of her face. She notices my surprised face, and places the glasses back on.

"Your eyes..." I trail off. They must be some sort of side affect from being here in the dark all the time.

"Yes... my eyes. My eyes are..."

"Big? A little freaky if you will?" I laughed. "Not in a bad way. You need bigger eyes, right? To absorb more light, to see in all this darkness?"

She nods slowly.

"It's dark. No light, no," She fumbles over the words.

"Is it always dark here?" I ask, guessing at what she's trying to say.

"Yes. Always dark," She confirms.

"Do you have a home here, or perhaps just a place you just stay and rest up at?" I ask. This kid, she can't be older than Dustin. There is no way this sad little child is sleeping under benches and surviving exposed every night.

"Home." She stand up, grabs my wrist, and starts running. Her grip is surprisingly strong, and I have no choice but to keep up. She effortlessly hops over rubble and dodges vines, and I stumble behind her.

Then she stops running. We've reached a large metal culvert, and she steps forward. I watch as she sweeps a thin slice of cloth aside, revealing a tiny camp. There's a cushion on the ground, presumably for sleeping. A few containers lie stacked in a corner, and a box of something lies spilled in the corner.

"Any chance you have some water in this home of yours?" I ask.

"Water!" She reaches for the containers, and pulls out a plastic tub of clear liquid. I snatch it from her, and drink it eagerly.

"Does it rain here? Where the hell did you find this?"

She reaches for my arm, and looks ready to drag me somewhere else again.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter," I say. I watch as the girl grabs a bent up box from atop the containers of water, and rummages through the pile in the corner. She comes up with a stick. She pokes it into the dirt, and lights up the tip with a lighter she removes from her scuffed up boot. The heat and flames make the vines instantly recoil, and illuminates the girl. I can now tell her hair is a dusty blonde, and her glasses are red. Her ears are big, and cone shaped. She's wearing dark red pants, worn out black boots, and her shirt appears to be made from a familiar material. I look down at my arms, and back at the shirt. Striped material, blue and white I can now tell.

"Were you- was that? Did you?"

She cocks her head.

"Was it you? Were you the one that helped bandage me up and hide me from, from whatever those things out there are?"

"That doesn't matter." She shrugs.

"Whatever. I need to take these off anyway." My fingers search for the edge of the fabric along my neck. I find it, and peel it back. The smell of metallic blood fills the air, and the girl whips around. Her eyes flash underneath her glasses, and she lunges at me.

"What- what the hell?" I try to break free from her, but she keeps me pinned down as she ties the cloth back down. Her fingers are long and slim, and her nails are short and ragged.

"Bandage STAYS," she whispers. I stumble back.

"Wh- what's wrong? Marinading in my own blood cannot be healthy for me. This thing smells rancid and that does not seem healthy!" I laugh nervously.

"Blood smell bad," she insists.

"Well yeah that's what I said-"

A loud roar cuts me off. The girl whips her hear around. She slinks to the front of the culvert, and looks around outside. She scurries back, and shoves me into a corner.

"Stay. Stay. Stay." She repeats. I watch as she disappears out the culvert.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Marshmallow dust.

This is the crap I drew @ant1quarian

this... is Marshmallow Dust. A weighted plushie designed specifically for mental health reason. The plush is... semi sentient??? Nightmare had it designed after a bad episode Dust had.

While soft, it feels like dough. Huggable but kinda heavy, it can be hugged abd out on your chest for compression therapy.

The plush does what it deems best for its current owner. It can walk around and do tasks, suck as cook (if it can find a way to climb onto the counter) and will make sure you eat properly.

It has a glow feature, as it's intended to accommodate for fears of the dark, or being alone.

(TW: the next part talks about mental health and the plushes use for preventing things like s/h and bad eating habits!)

It will do anything in its power to prevent its owner from anyform of S/H, and will alert any contacts if it believes it's owner is a risk to themself (In this case, Dust) and it cannot prevent it.

It encourages other coping mechanisms from smoking, and will steal cigarettes and throws them away.

It can be annoying, but it's doing its best. It's just doing it's job. Nightmare is the one alerted if the following happens:

Dust has caused bodily harm to himself on purpose.

Dust has refused to eat or drink for over 24hrs.

Dust has refused to sleep for over 24hrs.

Dust is exhibiting symptoms a panic attack, hallucinations, delusions, high anxiety, or if requested.

Dust is a threat to himself or others.

Requires any other sort of help.

Dust wants to hate the plush, but, he keeps it in his room when he sleeps and just let's ot help him.

[rambler-in-limbo]

What’s 80 been up to?

Well she’s been living with Savio ( @b00nk’s Peppino, go check her out I love my wife).

[muchisutes-geta-strap]

Posted this on the discord so here it is on tumblr. If u join the discord you get to see my masterpieces early isn’t that a crazy perk. I’m so good at promoting the server gore chan needs to start paying me /j

Here’s the image I’m referencing it makes me laugh it’s so fucking stupid

Fix my fucking phone

Fix my fucking phone

Fix my fucking phone

Also idk why he turned out looking like that I accidentally made him look like a little meow meow little kicked puppy j gave him those hamster boba eyes. I need to make him look evil. But maybe this design appeals to the little soggy kitten muchisute fans idk. That’s a niche I suppose.

[loonadelfly]

Fucking high on cocaine and doing skincare my God I love my liife

[florenceisfalling]

i have so much fun writing anti as such a specific brand of shitty guy that it makes me insane its so sad that i havent been posting writing of him consistently in years and all my old stuff is garbage. you guys would be insane for the shit i exchange with june on discord. my version of anti is so distant from canon in a lot of ways but not in his pathetic, attention whore, mockery-intolerant, "i will kill everyone in this room including myself" bullshit. like he's not scary because he's skilled or has self-control, he's scary because he will literally do whatever the fuck for attention. he will break his own bones and show up at your house sobbing about it. he will relapse and fuck his dealer and send you pictures of his own fresh and oozing cigarette burns alongside a text that says "wish you were here". he will threaten to kill himself and force you to watch. he will gut your boyfriend alive and deliver you a tape of it. he will break into your house while you're gone, cook you food and leave it on the stove with everything else inexplicably untouched. he will start impersonating you online and blackmail you so bad all your family members block your number. he will test every single boundary you give him. or, he will be self-indulgent, and just kidnap you to torture you every day. and he would rather you beat him to a pulp than abandon him or ignore him.

[s1l]

Monster High scar headcanons:

(WARNING: some of this deals with possibly triggering topics. There is violence talked about. This isn't recommended for young children, even though the show is. Please check the tags for specific trigger warnings!)

Clawdeen

- Claw marks on shoulders and lower arms from rough housing with siblings (and a certain Toralei.)

- a scar on her upper left arm from going to get shots at the vet. She flipped out and injured herself by scraping against the nearby desk and some equipment.

- her palms are pretty messed up from the way she climbs. There's very minor scarring, but her palms are still very rough to the touch.

Abbey

- Abbey is one of the only ghouls who actually got their scars in some cool way and isn't just making it up. She's very protective of herself and others, and gets into a lot of fights, and ALWAYS comes out on top. Whether the fights are for fun or defense, she's always in them.

- she has pretty long, deep scars on her calves because of Shiver. Shiver loves nuzzling up to her, but always forgets that they have tusks. Those tusks end up scratching into Abbey's legs, but Abbey doesn't get mad because she knows that Shiver was just being affectionate.

Frankie

- stitching up stuffies vs stitching up flesh is VERY different. Frankie has a few hole scars from misplaced threads, and scratching from sloppy work around some parts.

- burn marks. Sure, they can't get hurt from electrocution, but their flesh is still human flesh. It still gets burnt, whether or not they can feel it.

- besides that, Frankie can be pretty reckless at times. They often get scarring from mishaps in their experiments.

Lagoona

- Lagoona is salt water. The tides aren't always calm, so when she's swimming it isn't too rare for her to get slammed into the coral and rocks. She has great swimming skills, but her body isn't as well equipped as a fish to deal with a change in the water like this.

- she touched a toxic fish once, which in turn left a rash. However, since she isn't a human it didn't go away and the toxin didn't k1ll her. Instead, the rash never went away. Now she avoids those kinds of fish like the plague.

Cleo

- when living as long as Cleo De Nile has, you aren't gonna come out unshaved. She's pretty ashamed of her scars and tends to cover them up with makeup.

- she prefers to stay clean and have everyone else do the dirty work, so her scars are pretty minor. Some are from glass, some are from Nefera, and some are so old that she can't even remember where they came from.

- a scar from surgery. A curse backfired and infected her, almost like a tumor that grew and grew. She had to have it surgically removed because of how gross it looked. Along with the uncertainty of what it could do to her.

Robecca

- some would wonder if it really counts as scars if she's just scraps of metal. Well, she's a living person so they are.

- small burns on two of her finger tips and one of her wrists due to a candle falling over and setting a paper her arm was resting on top of on fire.

- she has some rusting here and there that no one quite seems to get to go away, despite how much polish is used.

Spectra

- none. No ghosts have scars. Why? Because if they've gotten scarring when they were alive, their ghost forms are more of the essence of their soul so there aren't flaws like that. The ghosts who were born like that of course have no scars because they have no physical body.

Catty Noir

- she shattered a mirror and the shards dug into her feet.

- (tw for kidnapping and attempted s@) she had to fight off a crazed monster/fan who was attempting to kidnap her. She also has scars from fighting off obsessive fans who tried to s@ her or were hurting her with how they were grabbing at her. No one besides her knows how she got those scars because she hates thinking/talking about it.

Draculaura

- some cigarette burns. She's lived for so long that she finally gave in and tried smoking, but after twenty years she gave it up in fear of lung cancer and ruining her voice. Not only that, but she realized how it was affecting monsters around her and that they kept their distance from her because of the smell.

- a mark on the inner side of her lower lip due to her biting it too hard during an anxiety attack which scarred because of her fangs.

- scars on the right side of her body from failed flying practice. She doesn't mind them very much because she knows it could've been a lot worse.

Deuce

- scars on his hands. When he lost his pet to his own eyes, he panicked and grabbed at it frantically and tore up his hands from the now solid stone spikes and features.

- some on his knees and ankles from playing unsafe sports outside.

Toralei

- during Meowlody's and Purrsephones little game of cat and mouse (literally), the mice students hid behind Toralei while she was sitting at a desk. Meowlody pounced at the mouse, her claws digging into Toralei's chest and back. When Toralei began freaking out, so did she which ended up making the scratching a lot worse.

- sh scars.

- a lot on her fingers because she would always play the knife game in hopes of impressing Meowlody and Purrsephone. She failed every time. And she did it again and again. She never learned.

Note: I have a lot more so yeah. Might make a part two!