vanna

. . .

[demolitionsweetheart]

Come back WE miss you 💔

Im seriously sooo sorry ive been like fighting myself to start working on something. I promise you ill have something out soon!! If it isnt already obvious I deal with mental illness and it's so tiring :/ when I post and write im in these moods but its like an extreme and theres no in between so its hard to write consistently and I really hate it im really sorry I need to lock in

[demolitionsweetheart]

srryy ik youve done sh but this one is a little more out there ig? Not sure if you are ok with more angsty themes but if you are i have a smei sensitive request :3?Maybe the rygos boys seeing reader's sh acars (legs) for the first time? (partner or crush)If this is too sensitive for you to do dont worry at all!!!

I actually got this exact request like a week ago... It's in the works, and ugh, I've just been so stressed out, but it will be posted soon! These sensitive topics are literally what I do. I dont care how angsty it gets. Honestly, the worse, the better pls send the request no matter how angtsy you think it is!!

[demolitionsweetheart]

+18!!

God I can't believe I chose the ending I did for to die is to live in his head...

I cant stop thinking about a different ending where instead of cumming inside of you, Henry pulls out and comes all over your ass and pretty thighs... or flipping your over and furiously jerking his dick in your face. Him smearing it or forcing his fingers covered in cum down your throat and spanking you. Loving the way you flinch and whine...

I missed an opportunity here...

[demolitionsweetheart]

Pls help me find this PMH fan fic🙏

A couple months ago I came across it but I just briefly read the description and moved on but now I want to read it sooo bad. It was Ryland Grace x Reader where grace thinks hes the only human rocky has ever met but rocky break to him that they have met another human and that human is reader!

Thats all I remember, but ive been thinking about it ever since. 😭 If you know this fic or author, please let me know!!

[venusjr-12doctor]

oh dw about snl, I don't find it funny(maybe), it's not important in my country either lol, i kinda had in mind that reader is a nurse(? or medical related and Jeffrey loves them so he stalks them, reader is weirdly willing about this so they play along :33

JEFFREY THANKYOU X NURSE!READER - ONE SHOT:

Summary: As a new member of the ER staff, the nurses always warned you about Jeffrey, until you foolishly decided to do something nice for him, which ends up going wrong (are you surprised?).

TW: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! Yandere behaviour, creep behaviour, stalker, knife play, blood play, blackmail, Dub-Con/Non-Con, nipple torture, P in V, creampie, stabbing, blood, Use of words like ‘Slut’.

A/N: This was a total challenge because we know very little about Jeffrey thank you, and his stupid fuck ass haircut makes me cackle, but I would never say no to writing a creep who likes to wear pink skirts and is a full-time anime yandere girl in the wild. I could reccomend hearing the song 'Undisclosed desires' by Muse, but in slowed (it fits the vibe better).

Remember that English is not my first language, I’m so sorry…

Enjoy!  

Everything you have heard about Jeffrey has been without even asking, the hospital doesn’t fire him because he is the son of the head hospital board, and that’s why they cannot get rid of him.

“One time he gave me a dead rat in a bag because I told him my favourite movie was ‘Ratatouille’,” said the head nurse. You almost cough your coffee. What the fuck? “He wrote Remmi in the bag, fucking freak”.

Nurses have a bad rep with him; doctors brush him off because they think, if he is still a useful pair of hands, then he is no problem at all. You didn’t have a week, and you have found him three times covered in blood, head to toe. Yeah, he creeps you the fuck out, especially when he likes to stare at you long, suspiciously long times. You believe in your coworkers’ horror stories with him. As a nurse, he is competent enough. None of us know if he is a real nurse or not, he mostly seems to be an over excited amateur.

Nobody wants him to be near him in the trauma room, because he likes giggling and looking at the open bodies, like he craves to cut those parts like a delivery drive thru for him to cook at home.

You would be lying to yourself if you don’t think he is good looking, under that awful haircut he would be spectacular, but no, he likes using pink rags or white (maybe it’s a colourful spectre for overshadowing the blood).

It was the end of the shift; you were absolutely destroyed! But still, he got your tired eye. He was sitting in the locker room, he looked strange, he was looking at his shoes, destroyed, he looked so down; before you asked, your friend Amanda answered that for you.

“Doctor Malek banned him from the trauma rooms, apparently one of the familiars of the patient was there, you know how he is,” she said before leaving, you waved her goodbye, still not digesting that news at all.

You shouldn’t feel bad for him.

Everything Jeffrey did was against everything the nursing team believed and do, he was an abomination for everyone’s eyes.

But you hit your head in the lockers when you heard him cry, it wasn’t loud, but it was enough to know he wasn’t well.

‘I’m going to regret this, am I?’ you asked yourself, not knowing what it was coming to you.

 “Hey…” you said softly before him, making him jump, with his crystal blue eyes staring at you, like Marie Madeleine, you curse yourself, because why all hotties have to be batshit insane?

You handed him your Kleenex tissues.

He took them, not knowing how tissues worked for a hard second. He didn’t know kindness before. He knows he is an asshole, and he doesn’t care. But somehow, he is a little touched.

“Thank you,” he said, almost whispering the word as he dragged it out of his lips.

“Doctor Malek would forget about it soon, he is an asshole to nurses anyway,” you told him. He cleaned his tears and you immediately remembered the cookies you left from your lunch. “Here, it might not be much, but I made them… maybe it would cheer you up”.

Jeffrey took the bag and looked at strangely, he was astounded for saying the least, he didn’t have his parents there with him to give him presents on his birthdays. And you just not only saw him, you were merciful, like the word of God blew in the air, brushing your hair. He was convinced that you were divine, by word and image, and he was made to make an orthodox reverence only to you.

 …

You started to regret it when he started filling your locker with love letters. But not just one; you could notice most of them were written on the notepad the hospital gives you by default. Letters were getting from cute, like ‘I hope you are having a really good day! Xoxoxo’ to a ‘I saw you flirting with Doctor Winston in aisle B! Do you not have loyalty, slut?!’.

He knew your whole shift by memory, he tried to be as close to you as possible, no matter where you are, he doesn’t care if other patients are there, looking. The one he is helping you clean was on a fine line of slumber and the plane of the living. You were scrubbing the guy’s arms with the washcloth.

“Don’t touch him that excited, jeez!” He said with a frown on his blond face.

You stopped bluntly, because what the fuck.

“I’m doing my job, Jeffrey,” you tried to over explain the obvious, but how can you respond to that?

“Yeah, but try not to be that turned on when you talk and attend other guys around, you look like you are screaming for sex!” he said, taking the scrub out of your hands and doing the job for you.

“With what right do you own that complaint?” you asked, looking at him coldly; he is lowkey enjoying your discomfort.

“I have the right to call out when my woman doesn’t stop being a fucking easy one,” he said with a soft voice, inches away from your face.

“Since when?” Your mind is blank, like, how did you get there? Just because you gave him cookies?

“Since a very long time, silly! I have seen you return home safely, I know your fat cat named Ry, and that you go to a book club every Friday; is astonishing, how can you still read this much with your job, I’m so proud of you—” he said, tasting your fear like a snake licking the honey covered in the apple.

What? You were unmoving, frozen.

You can yell, scream, or fight right there.

He is taller than you, you have seen him carrying patients alone like nothing.

You know what he is capable of.

 And you don’t want to find out the details.

 “Didn’t you mind telling at all?” You can feel how your face loses colour and warmth by every second you spend in that room, helping him with the patient: because patients come first, than all your alarm instincts to run the fuck away last.

“I did, or the letters weren’t enough?” He said like he was just explaining something so painfully obvious.

He might be a little right, maybe you didn’t saw the signs, even if it wasn’t that clear… You still don’t know what those letters mean, or what this means. All you have to take in mind is: he knows where you live, he knows Ry, he knows where you go and what you do.

You have no escape away from him.

Neither do you have proof that he goes to your house, or anything to show off to HR, so you are double screwed.

“You look like shit, girl, what happened?” asked Amanda, you just smiled, making the reports, typing as fast as you could because you need a fucking nap!

Jeffrey just appeared with an energy bar and brush your hair while you ate it (you were starving, that’s why you took it anyway).

 …

He started following you home just to tell you good night. You still don’t know what he gets with that, but he hasn’t harmed you yet (he gets turned on by the horror in your face and chasing you like if it’s a race).

You thought his attention was harmless, creepy, stalking and insane… but harmless. Until you were in the hospital basement for more beds, you felt the sharp and cold, cutting knife crawling on your naked skin, with his other hand, he slipped himself under your rags. Your hands fell on the plastic mattress, almost feeling like you were getting electrified.

“Be a good girl and turn over,” he commands in his usual soft voice, he is so calm, why is he so calm? How does he do it?

You were so terrified, you didn’t even doubt to obey twice, you cannot look at his face, just to the knife over his gloved hands. Why is he gloved?

“You are not going to kill me, right?” you asked. You are so scared you can barely breathe, you are completely alone with him, HIM.

The closest you are to somebody are the Forensics and cold corpses.

Without asking, he just grinned and grabbed every side of your hips and humps you towards the stretcher, hitting the crunchy plastic of the mattress and your hard breath were the only prayers you could hear in this hellish moment.

You didn’t fight him to open your legs.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” he groaned on your cheek, feeling the metal trailing your stomach; the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, he took your top scrubs away, leaving you alone with your bra and his knife.

He clashed his lips with yours in a violent and unexpected way, his dumb bangs almost stinging your eye, it was distracting, but you try to keep along with the long and rough kiss.

Jeffrey kissed you, starving, a single sight of you could nourish him for a whole day, and he is greedy, he is fat and non-content with little proportions of you. As he tastes your mouth, his tongue exploring every inch of you with intention, proportion, his hands had a mind of their own, memorising every part of you was his, and he is finally taking it!

The knife cut your bra.

“Fuck! No! I still have at least six hours of shit left, Jeffrey!”, you complained, you were enraged, that was your favourite working bra!

He couldn’t think of three things more boring than a broken bra. He yearns to taste you whole and swallow your life, become one.

“You don’t want to stay with me?” he asked, trailing the little surgery knife into your collarbone; it was a powerful tool, and you can feel the sharpness threatening at every brush and move.

The knife straights directly into your skin as his other hand plays and squeezes your breast, it was a hell out of a contrast.

On one side, you were struggling not to get cut, and on the other one, were blissful pain from his fingers pinching and pulling both your nipples; it was literal torture! His eyes were stabbing you; he was insanely enjoying this (he is debating himself if it was worth it, if he goes and steals a bag of blood to pour it in your tits, but you would fly away from him and lose the chance of making love to you).

When he took the knife away from you, a line of blood was drawn; you were shacking, no shit, why? But he just pulled away your underside, you didn’t struggle, you were stiff as a table, though. Jeffrey put those on another stretcher by and sat beside you on the mattress, he pulled his underside and let the beast out.

It was the most humongous thing fucking real cock you have ever seen, it was pink and shiny, he might be a lunatic, but that… that thing looks fun.

He patted on his lap.

“C’mon, sweet pie, ride your man,” he says with an insufferable grin.

You crawl on his lap as he seeks for your lips again, he found hard kisses and stiffness; he still identifies it as defiance, so he points the knife at your throat.

“Don’t be shy, I promise you I would not fuck you that hard,” he said, licking your bleeding shoulder.

Unhygienic, your nurse mind shouts.

But you shushed it because the knife was very pointed at your jugular vein, he might not be a real nurse, but he knows things.

Your hand grabbed that monster cock, palpitating and slippery from the precum he has been building for just being a fucking creep. Jeffrey was gripping the undersides of your thighs, getting sure his cock is sinking inside you, with the cold warning now close to your ass. It was hard; from the tip, it was a complete challenge.

“You are too big!” you complained, he giggled on your jawline, almost biting it, he pushed you aggressively, making you scream a little, that burn; that recognisable burn you haven’t felt since the first time, now it was burning you again. Jeffrey isn’t that patient because after he just pushed you inside him, he groans relived he is finally inside you, he leaves the knife underside of you both, for him to fully concentrate feeling your tight beautiful cunt sucking him.

“You—you are taking me so well!” he growls, still licking and biting your jawline and cheek, as his hips and hands keep helping you move up and down his filling shaft, tears started to fall because it feels so good!

He pans you over the mattress and him on top of you, you can feel half of your ass cheeks cold from the uncovered air on the edge of the stretcher, Jeffrey was enamoured by your look, by the tears, by the fact that you were enjoying this with him.

He is making you feel so good!

Moaning as you were, his pelvis with his filling cock were making wonders, rocking over and over to your spots, making you dizzy, addiction, yeah, this would make you an addiction to the dick of a fucking mad man.

Without even thinking it.

Your hand reached the abandoned knife beside you, and you stabbed him in the side of the gut.

You thought he would be mad or enraged, betrayed or sad.

No, he simply started laughing crazily.

He didn’t take the weapon away, he just hugged you, taking the underside of your head with his hands, and kept thrusting slowly, he was seriously whining, red as a cherry blossom.

“I knew you loved me the same!” he said with a lunatic smile, and his rushed, rhythmic thrusts getting harder and harder, you let go the knife, hugging his neck, feeling how your peak was getting closer and closer, by every drop of Jeffreys blood were coating your naked body.

His cries were loud and deep when you came around his immense cock, he came inside of you, because of course, leaving his sweat, spit and blood wasn’t enough fluids covering you yet.

“You are never going to escape from me, you are mine,” he said 'Mine' all the time, that’s all the words he could pronounce. After you could get dressed, cleaned, and clean him too; you cured him the wound, and pretended that nothing happened at the end of the shift.

After that, Jeffrey started behaving better around others, is more contained. He just needs blood and sex at the same time, and stabbing him or fucking on your period is more than fine. He is going to be a serial killer someday…     

Bitch, this Jeffrey thank you fandom could fill in a school bus, this is small, yall!! It was difficult as shit to find a single Jeffrey thank you icon picture! Deamn!

I know this was small like my tits, but i promise i would make something better, i feel this was very basic, idk what you think.

STILL, REMEMBER IM STILL OPEN TO REQUESTS, READ YOUR THOUGHTS AND EVERYTHING!

STAY FREAKY POOKIES!!!!

Me here tasting the tunes for this fics:

[demolitionsweetheart]

Idk if you do request anymore, do you think we can get some more sh comfort 👀 with any gosling.

Gosling Boys | Comforting You After Self-Harm

Pairings: Colt seavers x Reader & Courtland Gentry x Reader.

Content: established relationship, costume designer!reader for colt. Bodyguard!AU for court.

Warning: Self harm obviously

A/n: Its not posted anywhere, but if you send a request, I will probably do it. Feel free to request this with any other characters I just wasnt really sure who you wanted to see 🥲

If youre interested, I've already done this for Ryland Grace

Colt Seavers

It felt like the five hundredth take of the same scene. Colt had either torn his jeans on the asphalt or suffered some other ungodly wardrobe malfunction. So here you were again, fastening a harness across his chest and rolling up his sleeves for continuity.

He watched you work. How could he not?He'd adored you ever since you started working together. No matter how many productions came and went,he still found himself looking for excuses to be near you. Working beside his dream girl on his dream job.. he only hoped you felt even half the same.

You reached around his waist, tugging at the harness to make sure it sat snugly.

Your sleeve slipped back.

"Those from the stunt wires?" he asked absently.

The words had barely left his mouth before he actually looked.His expression dropped.

You were already pulling your arms back, folding them tightly across your chest.

"Theyre old..." your voice came out quieter than intended.

"No, hey.. Im sorry," He lifted his hands instinctively, like he wanted to stop you from walking away, but never enough to actually touch you. Looking like he wanted to snatch the words right back out of the air.

"I...I wasnt making fun of you," he said, the words tripping iver eachother.

You kept your eyes fixed on the harness buckle instead of him. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a conversation in the middle of set, with half the crew wandering around behind you.

"Let's run it again!" the director calls out from somewhere across the scene.

You grabbed onto that interruption like a lifeline, forcing a small smile as you gave Colt a quick thumbs up.

"We'll talk later, right?" He asked quietly.

You nodded, unable to trust yourself with words.

"...Can i ask you something?" Colt asked, finally breaking the tangible silence between you two.

You nod faintly.

He exhails before speaking, nervous for your reaction. "...can I see them?"

His voice was so quiet it almost disappeared into the sound of the crew packing up across the lot. "I mean only if you want to. If youre not comfortable, thats okay too." His voice only grew quieter as he spoke. Honestly, he was more nervous than you were. He worried he was crossing a line, but he worried even more that if he didn't say anything, you'd keep carrying it all by yourself.

You hesitatantly stretch your arm across the center console. When you gave the smallest nod, his hand moved carefully lifting the fabric just enough to see.

His fingertips hovered just above the level scars. He never wanted more to have the right words to tell you how much he ached for you and to tell you how much it stung him to know that you were hurting so bad you felt the need to take that out on yourself physically, no matter how long ago that be.

"..Come here." He gently let's her sleeve fall back in place.

Instead of an uncomfortable conversation or a dramatic speech, he simply opened his arms.

You only leaned a little, but he wraps his arms around you entirely, pulling you across the center console. Its a little awkward and way too tight. But it says more than just "Im sorry."

He just holds you there with you head pressed into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented sigh.

"Ive been trying trying to think of the right thing to say all afternoon..." he meets your eyes.

"I just...hate that you ever felt like you had to survive that by yourself."

Sierra Six

"You know youre bleeding." Court drops in such a flat, matter of fact tone.

"Huh," you pause to tug your sleeve down. He had rather abruptly came in. Its not uncommon. Checking on you had quietly become part of his routine. Every pass through the grand house ended with a glance into your room, just to make sure you were there

"Oh look at that," you nervously laugh, trying to down play it so he wouldnt look into it.

As you started towards en suite bathroom, his hand closed gently around your wrist. Before you can even react his other hand is wrapped around the back of your arm, sliding upward to reveal your skin.

You pull away just one second too late. Hes already seen an angry red line stretched across the skin of your arm.

"Give me your arm."

"No."

"You could need stitches if it's that deep."

"Im not letting you see."

He exhailed slowly. Contemplating your stubbornness when he already knew. When hed already known. Seeing you startle anytime he reaches for your wrist. Disappearing into your room after a stressful day. Opting for wearing long sleeves even in the comfort of your own home. To him, blood isnt shocking. Whats unsettling is that youre the one hurting yourself. That he has one job, and that is to protect you. Yet he'd failed to protect you from yourself.

Instead of reaching for you again, he just ushers you into the bathroom with him traling behind you.

He runs two fingers under the water first, making sure it wasnt too hot or too cold. Simultaneously searching the cabinets for a first aid kit.

"Arm."

You knew there was no getting away from him. He wouldnt let up on this.

Reluctantly, you let him hold your arm and roll up your sleeve to rise it with utmost care. Youre frankly shocked he could be so gentle with anyone.

He shut off the faucet with the back of his hand before reaching for the first aid kit. The room settled into an uneasy silence, only broken by the rustle of gauze as he worked.

"...tell me if im hurting you." He said quietly.

"You dont have to explain..." he begins, smoothing over the edges of the sheer cotton.

"Just..."

The bandage wrapped around once.

"Next time.." twice.

He looked up, wanting you to know his sincerity.

"Find me first."

"Thank you.." you finally manage.

His fingers slipped between yours, giving your hand one quiet squeeze.

"Okay?"

His fingers ghosted down your arm, mindful of the fresh bandage, slipping between your slightly damp ones. He lifted your hands to his lips, pressing the softest kiss against your knuckles.

"...There she is," he murmured, catching the tiny smile that finally tugged at your lips.

One corner of his own mouth lifted in return. A rare, bittersweet smile.

It wasnt much. But it was enough to remind you that you werent sitting in that bathroom alone.

[demolitionsweetheart]

Do we like character x mentally ill reader fics or am I just writing for the walls

[demolitionsweetheart]

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬, 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬. . .

Lars Lindstrom x Schizophrenic!Reader

Content: Schizophrenia, auditory hallucinations, psychotic episode, paranoia, anxiety/panic, emotional distress, medication mention, comfort, fluff/comfort ending. This is pretty short.

Warnings: Psychosis and Auditory hallucinations.

A/n: The focus of this fic was Auditory hallucinations and not visual ones. But I am willing to write more on the different parts of schizophrenia and Psychosis even with other characters. And ofc this is named after a song lyric by La Dispute! I recommend listening is very good song.

The near constantly sound of overlapping gibberish, degrading words, and absolute nonsense had been nagging you to no end since the very moment you opened your eyes this morning. As if thats really been any different from the past couple years of your life, but today was particularly frustrating.

You couldnt do a single thing without your brain yelling at you to either do the opposite or just calling you stupid.

This morning, just fixing a cup off coffee you were bombarded with We hate you. Posion. Dont drink! Out to get you! Take your meds. Dont do that! Stupid! soooo stupid. chechechecheSOMETHINGS WRONGchechechet.

No matter how much you fought those dumb voices you couldnt bring yourself to drink it. That smells awful, dont drink that coffee. After all, it might be poisoned. Youre a waste of time.

No matter how acquainted you get with those three haunting voices, you can never stop listening to them. You cant not believe them if theyre right in your head all the time. Youre beyond grateful to have someone so understanding and patient with you. Shut up. He knows about you. He would never stay with you. Having problems himself, he can always tell when youre too overwhelmed or when you suddenly feel unsafe in your own body.

Hide away. Hide away. Stupid! Stupid!

You really thought today would be different?

Look at you. Crying over nothing!

Go ahead. Make him clean up after you again.

Disgusting

Dont touch yourself. Stop it. Stop it now!

"(Name)? Why are you in the corner? 's evwrything okay?" Lars appeared in the doorway. You hadnt even noticed he'd came home. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?" His voice was low and soft. He was calm but his voice was definitely filled with worry. He knew panic was the last thing you needed on days like these though so he pushed that away until you can calm down.

Hes pretending.

You tug at your sleeves, trying to find the words but you dont even know where to begin. If you start talking, you might start crying. You cant cry in front of him.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, "Everything... everything 's so m-much. I dont really know whats wrong." You begin, stuttering and talking as quietly as you can. You should stop talking.

"Im sorry," you start again. Worried that this is the last thing Lars wanted to deal with after work.

Look how patient hes pretening to be.

Embarrassing.

"Dont say sorry. Its okay, hon," Lars smiles, flicking the light switch on as begins to pull at the hem of his sweater. He tosses his sweater over the end of the bed frame before taking a seat. "Will you sit up here with me?" He pats the space next to him.

He doesnt love you. Youre pathetic. Hes just pretending.

"No, thats not true." You swallow thickly.

"Hm?"

"Sorry... you asked me something." Nobody has to say they hate you. You stare at your legs. Not wanting to meet lars' gaze.

You can already tell.

"I asked if you wanted to sit with me." Lars explains patiently.

"Okay. Okay... just dont let them get louder." You push yourself off your place on the floor with trembling, uncertain movements. Even after the couple times Lars has comforted you during these episodes, you never know if you're allowed to trust him the next. You never know if this time the voices will be right.

"Of course. You know im right here with you," His lips curl into a small, candid smile.

"I know," Liar. "...just." smileee "stop talking." You sniffle.

"Whos talking?" Smile harder.

"Not you. Im so sorry... them. They wont shut up. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Why wont they stop?" You hyperventilate, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Apologizing again? Again again again?

Im tired of you.

"Okay okay... its okay. Dagmar told me that its really overwhelming and real..." Lars begins. Anxious that if you cant seem to calm down it could lead to more agitation or confusion. He squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to be oh so careful with how he goes about this. Dont. "Can I hold your hands?" Lars' voice is so low and soothing over the pleaging ones.

Dont let him touch you.

Cautiously, you nod. You trust him. At least you think you do even if they tell you not to.

Watch his face. There. You saw it.

Lars takes your hands in his. Just letting them rest on top of his. Your breath quickens. What theyre telling you and what he is telling you just confusing you beyond end. Hes counting down the minutes until he leaves.

You begin to sob, tears spilling down your cheeks. You want to pull away. To hide away from him but at the same time you want him to stay with you and never stop talking.

Watching the exact moment your defense crumbled sent a wave of helpless pity through him. He just wants to wrap his arms around her and squeeze every awful thought away.

The voices dont dissappear. Or suddenly become quiet. But Lars is still there. Sitting against the headboard, gently combing his fingers through your hair, careful not to bombard you with questions or tell you its not real and to deal with it.

"Did you take your medicine this morning, Lovebug?" He whispers. You shake your head, tucked into his shirt. "I... forgot," stupid. You ruin everything you touch.

...he'll leave...

The voices begin. But this time its not as sharp or loud.

He nods, without any disappointment. "Thats okay too," he leans down, holding your head gently between his hands. Pressing a kiss to your hair and smoothing a strand of hair behind your ear.

The words are softer now, almost drowned out by the rhythm of his breathing.

You don't know when your eyes finally close.

Lars' fingers continue to move through your hair in slow, even strokes.

"We'll make sure you take it tomorrow morning. We'll get you back on track!"

[demolitionsweetheart]

Lars Lindstrom x ADHD!Reader struggling with appetite drabble...

Stimulant-induced loss of appetite

Kind of self-indulgent but I dont have ADHD I'm just addicted to Adderall sooo.. enjoy

"Have you eaten today?"

Lars' voice sounded low and firm from his place, leaning his hips against the counter with his arms folded across his chest.

Hearing those words always felt like being scolded but with Lars you knew he was just constantly worrying for you. Your jaw was clenched uncomfortably. An annoying side effect of the stimulant medication you were prescribed. And by the afternoon your teeth were grinding painfully but unable to stop.

Lars cocks his head, waiting for your response. You snap out of your daze and reach up to rub your aching jaw. Youre looking everywhere but him. Scared to see the disappointment in his eyes. Deep down you knew he was the last person to judge you but this chemical imbalance told you otherwise.

"No... 'm sorry," you mutter.

"Okay." Lars begins. Looking for the right words because he knows this is a hard topic.

"Well... when was the last time you ate?"

His gaze is getting to you and youre desperately fidgeting, begging for the unwanted attention to dissappear. Chewing on the inside of your bottom lip, sliding your rings up and down your fingers, anything that keeps your hands busy.

"Uhm, I'm not sure... Well I had dinner yesterday," you finally tilt your head up, hopefully. As if that was even remotely a good thing.

Lars nods, understanding but oh so fretful. Adderall, plus the way that you stressed out and on top of that, not eating sounds like youre asking to pass out or even worse have a heart attack! You get too jittery and anxious when youre medicating, it stresses him out! When you crash after a long day and start sobbing at nothing. Or when you cant sleep because you took your medicine too late. It all has him thinking the worst.

"Thats okay," he pauses.

"I would like to speak to your psychiatrist, (Name)."

He leaves that there. Hoping you'd follow why he found this necessary. He could see the hesitation and confusion on your face, but didnt want it to get to you. For now at least.

"Karin gave me leftovers. Its way too much for me. Would you like to sit with me for a little bit?" Lars warmly encourages as he pushes himself off the counter and starts toward you.

His hands snake around your waist, ignoring that you arent quite hugging him back. He tucks his head into your shoulder. He doesnt need you to hug him back if you dont want to but he wants you to know how much his life revolves around you and how much you mean to him. How much it means to him that youre feeling and doing okay. After a moment, he pulls back, lips stretched into that adorable, awkward smile. "C'mon."

[sunsetredwood]

Something for Henry and his love for sketching reader but it feels like he's taking candids and sometimes she loves them sometimes she's like "please delete- erase that, I look awful" "no, you look really pretty, I think I really captured your expression beautifully-" "Henry, I look like a gremlin-"

lol okie dokie

You’re always pretty to me

Henry Letham x Reader

Warnings: fluff, very short

“Henry” “What? It’s nice.” “No it’s not-“ you tried to say without laughing. Your every loving boyfriend who loved drawing you had drawn you when you were sick. “No, you look beautiful” “I look like a dying goblin.” You giggle.

Henry, who thought you looked beautiful all the time, gave you an offended look. “You do not! You look so soft and sexy-“ “Henry i was sick out of my mind. I look sick.” “You’re always pretty to me.” He said as he pulled you into a kiss, you smiled, giggling a bit. “You’re so stupid.” You mumbled into the kiss. “Only for you my muse.” He whispered as he moved to kiss behind your ear.

“My beautiful muse.”

That took way longer than I should’ve

Okie hope you like it bye-bye !!



[demolitionsweetheart]

Ugh im in love w you

[venusjr-12doctor]

Lars Lindstrom x kidnapped!reader:

I made the whole start in the request post by @whosregan, I'm sorry I lost it! I'm so sorry!!!

Content: Lars has always been in love with you, since you two were little kids, and after Bianca, he is pushed to make a hard choice.

TW: 18+, MDNI, a little OOC Lars, Non-con, Dub-con, kidnapping, hunt/prey kink, doll kink, Reader is bisexual, Lars is autistic and I will die on that hill, Mention of home invasion, Post Bianca event, creampie, P in V, Remember that all the readers girls I write can be read as chubby, tall, POC, alternative, etc (I'm done with basic templates), First time for Lars.

A/N: After this, I would accept requests, but I would answer after writing Part 3 of the Goose Dark Family AU. I need to lock the fuck in, fr.

I apologise, but please remember that English is not my first language.

Enjoy!

Bianca was not real.

He is old, he is dying, everyone is dying, and he just recently accepted very harsh truths. He just induced his whole town because he couldn't face them. After Bianca's funeral, the fog was clear behind his eyes.

He is a single, 35 year old man living in a garage.

And he has a doll kink.

Or, that's what the internet affirms he has, after weeks of being on the edge of madness, again, he is finally facing his own issues.

Because no matter how much he now stares into Bianca’s resting place, who is immobile, silent and unreal; the idea of dressing, taking care and grooming a real girl stains his mind. He envied Karin, because it was her and her friends who did all that hard work; but why did he refuse to do it? Was it God telling him no, or was the idea of his desires so disgusting he was ashamed to even dare to open that door?

He tries to distract himself with work, with Gus and Karin, and his baby nephew; it's calming, he adores them, and he has received the love and the appreciation people might envy.

But there is something wrong with him.

But the idea is there, melting his brain completely, not leaving a breathing second for him to create those heavy pictures in his mind.

You came back to his mind after so many years.

You, dressed in pretty dresses, hair fresh and brushed, with velvet bows adorning your satin hair on the back; pictures that drown his common sense and possessed every waking and unconscious second of his life.

So that guides directly to you.

You, the girl who has always been in love with you, since he was a little boy with falling milk teeth and burning admiration in his eyes.

Both have grown together.

From childhood to high school, until adulthood, made you grow bigger wings, and he has to accept forever to carry the burden of his failure.

You work in the bookshop he always likes to go to when he doesn't find anything interesting in the public library.

But he has always been a fucking coward.

Silently, the fire that could burn the entire forest was slowly getting smaller, as he saw your life from afar.

How you took other boys, and even girls… You moved out. He accepted that; he let the girl of his childhood dreams go; maybe by this moment, he could have the chance to have what Gus had with Karin, maybe having two baby daughters by now, if he wasn't… different.

But suddenly, very pleasantly and conveniently, you returned.

You bought a little house close to the forest, a little far from your parents just to live — they all died, you only had an older brother, who he never grew to like. – You got a job, avoided church and ran every morning.

He knows, because he has been watching ever since.

Everything was falling into place, your return was not just a lucky convenience, it was God’s will to make you his!

He entered your house when you worked one time, he wrote down any clothing measurements, shoe sizes, bra cups, what bathroom products you used, so what is he keeping and what he would replace them with something better.

Because he is willing to bring your hair back to life and cheap shampoo with no conditioner, he doubts it, but that's why he took a full summer break for how to be a hairstylist from Karin’s friend; he can’t depend on her, and even when he has a gentle amount of knowledge in women's fashion, hair is another rocket science, a misstep and all can go fall into the pits of hell.

He is devotedly determined to make you his real doll.

Not a doll; everyone would laugh at him or see him as a mentally ill man.

He learned.

He is not that man anymore.

He wants to be a man, a father a husband, like his brother and his father before them, so bad.

He would be forever grateful to Bianca, because he did not just open himself to want something more than just to be a voyeur in life, he wants to take his dreams and make them true, no matter the cost.

Lars has wasted enough time.

He cannot afford to waste more. 

He doesn't like shopping for clothes for himself. He doesn't like men's wear. It's boring and dull. Women's clothes are beautiful and so fun! He has enjoyed them since he was such a little boy. Watching women's magazines and looking at the malls; Gus never made him shameful for it, his dad tried, but after he watched him using his mother's clothing, he immediately gave up. He has always been so alien to women's lives. No sisters or relatives. He only had his mum's old clothes to picture what she was like, and nothing else.

But he doesn't look in a weird way.

It is pure admiration.

And obviously, he is heavily aroused by the idea of dressing up some girl.

And that girl is going to be YOU!

He bought everything!

Everything is ready and settled.

He is just going to hunt for his doll.

And that's another big fantasy of his.

Chasing someone in the woods.

Fucking her in the woods.

Filling your tight cunt with every drop inside his balls, over the floor of the woods.

Making you his in the woods.

And that's what he is planning to do, in the plain daylight, at 6am, in a small town, in a foggy Minnesota morning.

It is cold and dark, but lightly visible.

You always say hi to him politely, even when he barely managed to say hello after years and years of mirror training! You have always been so nice and so dumb fucking pretty.

After you passed him on the road, it was time.

He starts following you from behind.

He races his pace as you and him step deeper into the road of the hardwoods.

His cock starts to tingle inside his pants as he follows you.

“Do you want to walk with me, Lars?” You ask him, to dryly stop, he has never spoken to you directly, but it's time to break that.

And stopping their pacing is not going to change the fact that he is going to hunt you down like a wolf to a hare in the woods.

“I want— I want to hunt you in the woods…” He said it the best he could, he was fucking nervous, talking to the love of his life is hard!

“Excuse me?” Lars wants what? “Y-you want… to hunt me, like, what? Like an animal with a gun?”

You want to freak out, but you are hoping he is joking.

Is it so hard when the one saying that batshit words come from a chubby, stuffed animal giant man you have known since you were like five- seven?

“¡No! Absolutely not, I don't like guns! Uhm…” He shakes his head with big shocked eyes and a flush round cheeks. “I-I want to hunt you down, like—like if I want to catch you and fuck you in the ground… kind of hunt,” he explained, he touched his pants, he nervous to death, but he has no other options.

He doesn't like guns, they are too loud.

You were frozen, a stone figurine in the middle of a pond, what can you respond to that?

'Thanks for wanting to fuck me, I haven't had sex in more than a year! How did you know I'm desperate?' or 'How you, Lars Lindstrom, can say those things out loud, the most I had heard you in almost thirty years say was yes or no, and Hi, nothing else! What do you mean you said that you want me, to chase me through the woods and fuck me??’.

“First of all, what the fuck?” You closed your eyes. “Second, why?”.

He cannot give you a sincere answer because he is about to kidnap you, and he is still not ready to confess his entire life infatuation for you, not yet, at least.

Not in words.

He shrugged his shoulders, the only thing that can be heard is the birds singing and the dead leaves crushing under their feet.

“You are joking?” you asked, still, still! Holding onto any kind of hope, he just says something funny or walks away to forget this moment.

Because, the tragedy of all, is that you always liked Lars, at least a little, he has never known a single day of ugliness in his life, but he is too neurodivergent to even notice it.

Or, well, it's that, or he is just too shy.

He shakes his head with blinking eyes, he is alarmingly nervous, you know him well enough, he is restless and somehow impatient.

“If… you catch me, what would you do?” You asked, you can't believe you haven't run away or called him weirdo or something, you heard about the Bianca thing, you didn't witness it, but you have seen the tombstone to confirm it was true.

You can say Lars has something special.

A charisma or a charm, something that made him so loved, cared for, and very protected by the whole town. You cannot explain the phenomenon that happens around him, but you cannot explain what makes him so special, to be this thoughtful and patient with him.

When he is telling you he wants to hunt you down in the woods and fuck you… The idea somehow doesn't disgust you.

“I told you, I would fuck you right there,” he gives you a tight lip smile with apples in his cheeks, sweet crazy motherfucker.

“Ok… and what would you do after?” A ride home? A pat on the back? He would pay you money or something? You are walking in the middle of a forest park, the idea of feeling like a sex worker is not that far to come true!

“I will take you home with me.”

“For what?”

“Take care of you, of course.”

“Like an aftercare?” This is a small, traditional town, you doubt he would know what aftercare really means.

“Yeah,” he simply answered, OK, awesome, should you start running or are we going to warm up first?

You sigh.

“Cool,” you said, making both of you stare in silence.

“I will give you thirty seconds of advantage,” he said, looking at his watch.

“What happens if you don't catch me? And when do you start counting?” you asked, immensely anxious.

“I will come back tomorrow to try again, and I'm counting by now, you still have twenty seconds.” You cried a worried squeak before you start running, not as fast as you need to be.

But you didn't take it seriously until you heard the hard and heavy stomps from behind.

He is still wearing those heavy leather boots he got almost fifteen years ago, you made the bad choice of looking back just to see him getting closer and closer.

“Fuck! Shit! Shit! Ah!” you shout obscenities, burning the little air your lungs can barely contain, making you slower and slower as he follows you into the deep side of the woods, you try to avoid the roads of branches and fallen trunks that could put you in disadvantage.

But Lars has years of experience and training, you don't need to ask him to know he does, because he is skipping everything on his way, like a deer on steroids. He is a woods ballerina while you were fighting not to fall and break your fucking ankle or hit your head over a tree like a Looney toon.

You didn't even have the chance to grasp into any chance to see hope from afar, is the fucking deep insides of the woods, Lars stumbles on you from behind as you both crash on the floor and he just smashes you in the wet, cold ground, he is fucking heavy as hell; the weight wasn't that bad, you could never dream to carry him or at least try to raise him up to fuck him off.

Your hands grasp on the damp earth and the dead leaves, crawl away, but his heavy body pinned you completely, you growl in desperation.

As he huffed violently, regaining his breath, but also desperate to hold you still, and also… he was pulling down your exercise sweatpants, you felt a cold slap on your ass cheeks.

“Why didn't you have any better fantasies? Why outside in the fucking cold!” you shout as he was huffing violently, taking his already hard cock out.

“I'm sorry, I'm… I'm so sorry,” he moaned, relieved, you felt a fat stretch that burned you, he is insane but he has a fat cock! He never stopped apologising.

“Fuck…!” you shout, still crawling to escape the fullness. Lars just hit rock bottom on your cervix.

Large and thick, lovely, adorable, and handsome, all in one man, why?

Your legs were starting to fail you, but you were cold as fuck, your whole chest and belly are damp, so you are shivering like crazy, and it doesn't help, Lars slow thrusting… It feels so good, your head falls into the ground, denial, then why do you want to moan?

The cold that's invading your chest, belly and arms is a funny, uncomfortable contrast of what you are feeling on your insides, you feel hot, a warm spread of warmth just rising to your head, how long has it been since the last time you did this?

Well… too long, to be enjoying this too much.

His big hands hold the beginning of your hips and waist, making a delicious, possessive grip under his non-stop grinding. You couldn't see his face, but it was obvious he was enjoying it by the exciting whining sounds that he emitted, it was weird to find a man this noisy in sex.

You enjoy it, big time, actually.

There must be something wrong with you, because how can a big, chunky man who weighs almost as much as a standard car and looks like a bear who had a wish to become human, be provoking you great pleasure just by the noise? Well, it is impossible to ignore: he owns big thighs, and maybe that explains the great force of thrust he provokes.

You want to roll over and let him fuck you face to face, maybe kiss him if he lets you, but he was determined, he clunches your jacket, lifting your back a little more, as you hear him peaking a little more on his tone, his orgasm was falling rapidly with you, because you didn't know in a million years you would be into this.

When the floor got damped with your coming and excessively shivering legs, you knew you were officially fucked up forever. Lars was still rutting inside you, he hasn't let you go for a second, you are deeply wondering how the fuck are you going to walk back at home, so dirty and damped.

The cum dripping outside your hole was a weird sensation in the freezing air, something primal in your mind just got a sparkle of enjoyment from it.

Just when you thought he was finally letting you go, he pulls up your underwear and your sweatpants, and he just casually lifts you off the floor to hang you on his shoulder like if you were a lost sheep.

Somehow, you were grateful he is doing this, because your body ached by the cold and… everything. You didn't give him your home address, and still he knew exactly where you live and he knew the door was open, how?

“You shouldn't leave your house door open all the time, strangers might get in,” he said as a matter of fact, because he already has done that and he didn't like to know you are so careless.

“Who is going to get in, anyway?” Him.

…

Lars leaves you on a chair next to the bathtub while he prepares the shower. The promised aftercare. He washes your hair with products he hid in your bathroom closet.

“I have never bought these,” you point out at the hair products, while Lars keeps scrubbing deliciously on your scalp.

You might start kicking your leg like a dog.

“No, I did,” he said softly, rinsing the product with the warm water, being careful of your eyes.

“You get inside my house,” that's why… oh, ok, got it.

You made a mental note to barricade your house tomorrow.

“I will bring the rest of the stuff with me later, but right now I need to clean you up,” he clears, bring what? You asked yourself, as he washed your skin with a washcloth, he was meticulous and careful with the passing.

The feeling was sensational, your body is so loose and relaxed, it is concerning.

Because what if he is a serial killer?

But painfully, you know him all his life, you watched how he sobbed every time when science teachers dissected frogs, he couldn't watch frogs getting brutally murdered, and he always had school troubles in science because of it, he didn't got the best grades, but at least the teacher was human enough to let him go.

You know he has been a softie from the moment he was born, because he was sobbing uncontrollably after watching ‘E.T.’ in class.

That hunt in the woods was actually the most violent thing you have ever seen in his life.

And it wasn't that bad, in your opinion.

Living in big cities has taught you enough.

He helped you dry, brushed your hair, he dried it, he put in more hair products that made your hair feel expensive and smell delicious.

“I can dress myself, thanks…” you said to him, still holding the towel, he didn't say anything, he just stared at you, highly determined you will let him dress you.

He didn't resign.

You gave a faint sigh as you left the towel on the chair and let the pretty underwear be on.

You didn't thought much on the fact that he saw you naked, he already left his sperm inside you and leave him inside your house.

Socks and a mid-thigh white cotton nightdress. you didn't recognise anything he was putting on you, where the hell is he taking all this stuff? God only knows, but apparently, he has been planting stuff in your own fucking house for God only knows for how long.

He made you stand before your bedroom mirror, and you looked like a doll.

You have a trillion questions he wasn't going to answer, he gave you the prettiest baby blue cardigan to cover, it was so soft, and it smells like him and vanilla clothing softener.

“You must be hungry,” in fact, you were.

He didn't pop up anything else from nowhere, he used what you had on your fridge, and the white sauce chicken pasta was absolutely insane.

He ate too, he was dirty too.

“You can shower if you want,” you said after finishing the food, you would lick the plate, but you can highly guess he would be mad if you stained the pretty clothes he just… induced you to wear, how does he do it? Why are you so OK with any of it?

Well, his demands are not violent, ugly, or unpleasant.

“Oh no, I cannot shower in my doll house, I will shower at home, but thank you,” he said, taking the plates to wash.

“What doll house?” you asked him, totally forgetting Lars is the same man who, at least an hour ago, he tackled you in the woods.

He turned around, still washing the dishes, you should be helping, but you feel very little in doing so.

His expression was one of deep surprise, and almost like if you were asking why the sky is blue, or why we keep using capitalism when it doesn't work.

“Your house, dummy, you are my doll,” he said with a tight lip smile, his usual normal smile.

It would be foolish trying to speak with common sense, but you have to start taking different directions towards your questions because, so far, you have been fruitless.

“But in the woods, you said you would only do aftercare,” you point, he hasn't finished with the dishes, that's why he hasn't faced you yet.

“Yeah, but I will give you constant aftercare after that. I will take care of you, because you are my doll,” he overexplained.

“So, you have a thing for dolls, I thought your relationship with Bianca was pure, as what people said, did you fuck her in the woods too?” He catches your stare so quickly he almost drops a dish.

He was so scandalized by the accusation.

“We never did anything, I kissed her the moment she died…” He said hissing a sting of pain stabbing his chest. “I have never had sex before, or with Bianca.”

It was weird, he was so poignant about it, Bianca was a sex doll after all, that was her whole purpose.

Wait, the fuck!

“Lars, what we had in the woods was your… first time?” He nods slowly, hiding his eyes on the floor as he blinks a trillion times, red as the mug he was holding.

“Oh my fucking god…” You sink your hands on your face, you don't know what to do with that information.

Why would he want to have his first time like that?

Why you?

And why was he so good at sex already?

“OK, bedtime!” he announced when the kitchen was pristine.

He let you wash your teeth alone. You are not a dog, and just that analogy would win you the privilege of letting you do it yourself.

You were getting inside bed alone, until you heard hard clicks in the bathroom. He came out with a large line of chains on his hand, and he just grabbed your ankle and…

“Lars, why are you chaining me in my house?” You are exhausted, to keep making questions, Lars looks like he is shining inside out.

He accommodates the sheets and the comfy cushions.

“Well, I need to go to work, and I would need to change the door locks and prepare your windows so you don't hurt yourself. Don't worry, I would let you go outside, but right now is a prevention.” You were collar up, covered and suffering in nonestop nonsense.

“Prevention from what?” He sits beside your bed, he looks truly… happy? He could light fireworks with his eyes.

“I would need to prevent you from flying away from me, when you accept to stay with me as a doll, you can go back to work and everything, oh! I'm dying to see you walk around with such pretty clothes!” OK, why are you blushing? You are so exhausted, this day is so fucking weird!!!

“OK, would you come back tomorrow?” You literally depend on it, or else you will die.

He nods, leaving a soft kiss on your lips and calling a good night, you hear him outside, the click of your door keys, the heavy steps, the engine of his car… Wait, he parked in front of your house?

You literally have the survival instincts of a hamster.

This was so fun!

I don't think this can be told in one post, I would make a second post about this, just like the Dark Ken with the Monster High doll.

REMEMBER I'M STILL OPEN TO REQUESTS AND READ YOUR THOUGHTS, LITERALLY ANYTHING, I ADORE ANYTHING YOU SEND ME, REALLY!

STAY FREAKY, POOKIES!

Reader at the end of her day, just so fucking DONE with Lars continuous unstopped bullshit:

[qixcxd]

where 😭😭 is 😭😭😭 the dan dunne 😭😭😭 content 😭😭😭

[cosmicyeehaw]

Pilot detected 😏

oh my god if the pilots are fucking... who's flying mary 😧

Closer by NIN was a big inspo for this one and was on repeat a majority of the time wheheheohohoh🫪🫪🫪

No close ups since it'll get flagged hhehehehe you'll have to click on it to see it better

@larsandthewritergirl you can stop chewing on those nuts and bolts now 😅🫶🏽

[demolitionsweetheart]

[demolitionsweetheart]

LOVE LOVE LOVE THE GOTHIC...could we get lars/ryland with like 2000's emo reader? fully an adult but still listens to mcr, p!atd, sws etc, wears jeans and their apartment is all posters and converse and they are just really really extroverted and out there but dresses all black 90% of the time lol.

Sorry if this doesn't meet your expectations :(

Ryland Grace x 2000s Emo!Reader Headcanons

✃You’d met him in a bookstore. You passed by him and just had to compliment his worn Bullet For My Valentine tee shirt, and somehow twenty minutes later he knew your entire music taste and which overplayed bands you couldn’t stand. (Deftones!!!)

✃ He didn't know very many emo bands... Mainly alternative rock like Sublime, The All-American Rejects, and All Time Low. But that's fine, thats what you're here for!!

✃ You play endless songs for him and he loves it. He appreciates the music and loves how worked up you get about songs with the most dramatic romantic verses and good guitar riffs. From the loud and heavy stuff like Black Veil Brides and The Used to the softer emo you want to play after a break up like Armor For Sleep.

✃ Will attend nearly every concert you go to even if he has never even heard if the band. It's so cool seeing you so riled up and jumping. If you ask really nicely, he will guide you to the back of the of the crowd and give you a boost to crowd surf to the crash barriers.

✃ Get out a here with that TX2 shit!! Ryland will hate on any band with you even if youre totally being dramatic

✃ Somehow your playlist goes from screaming guitars to the most heartbreaking love song ever and you’ll explain the lore behind every single track.

✃ If your makeup is messy and smudged after a concert, he will take your eyeliner pencil and fix it for you with gentle hands in your cheeks.

✃ Gets kinda jealous when you immediately are complimenting anyone else for having a sick band shirt or studded belt

✃ Lets you write matching lyrics across both of your converse... Maybe;

"Whats the worst that I could say?"

"Things are better if I stay"

Or

"If I'm James Dean... "

"You're Audrey Hepburn"

✃ On that note, matching Kandi bracelets are a must!! He doesn't think it's childish at all, he loves that you're so for your relationship that you want to wear it on you.

✃ Ryland loves it when you make fun changes to you hair. Highlights or even just side fring you cut on a whim.

✃ Will absolutely sit through your dramatic celebrity crush rants, even when he has no idea who you're talking about.(Ronnie Radke!!)

✃ he doesn't always understand every fashion choice at first... But he loves his much thought you put into your outfits.

✃ Ripped tights not ripped enough? He'll absolutely help you make them more dramatic by personally tearing them until they're perfect. If your outfit needs a tie because... Well why not, hell happily lend you his. He's always adjusting your leg warmers and accessories making sure everything sits right before giving you an approving little pat on your thigh and telling your it looks good.

✃ Youre so energetic, but never exhausting. He loves that about you. He thinks it's so rad how your style is almost intimidating but you're the sweetest soul he's ever met.

[demolitionsweetheart]

Ryland grace x Gothic!Reader Headcanons

☥ wowowow this guy needs to learn some manners. Couldnt help staring when he first met you.

☥ Absolutely the kind of guy to buy you gifts based on your personality and style. Red roses and yellow daisies just won't do. He goes out of his way for deep hued dahlias or purple-black pansies because of their strange and uncanny appearance.

☥ Feels so undressed next to you. Or maybe you're the one overdressed. Doesnt matter, he always oves your outfits. How your outfits can sometimes be messy and effortless, but still feel completely like you.

☥ He loves it when you get all done up for dates because it means he can admire your pretty makeup. Dramatic eyeliner looking more like art than anything else. Even if its uneven, he could actually kiss it.

☥ You definitely influence his style. He just thinks you're so cool and wants to match. He'll let you paint his nails black and buys tie clips that go with your jewelry.

☥ Has no problem spending his weekend watching Nosferatu, The crow, and even kinda cringe series like Hemlock Grove.

☥ The first time he went to a local show with you he felt so basic and definitely over thought not being your type.

☥ So flustered when your deep plum lipstick mark is on his cheek after a goodbye kiss.

☥ Cant get behind all of your music but definitely loves the softer or more metal leaning stuff like The Cure, In This Moment, London After Midnight, and Echo & the Bunnymen. Maybee a few songs by Suicide Silence

☥ Loves when you effortlessly still look the part even in a simple band tee and combat books.

☥ Your bathing suits actually make him drool.

☥ Loves to watch you do your makeup, tease your hair, and argue with yourself about how you should layer an outfit.

☥ "Yes, babe. We can elope and run away to live in a castle in Romania"

☥ No, but seriously, the way even your apartment screams you is so cool but creepy to him at the same time. The oddities, the faint smell of incense and maybe a little Mary Jane, the posters, the canopy. Youre like a real life porcelain doll.

☥ Loves going thrifting after grabbing a coffee that was honestly shit but you wanted to go because it was local.

☥ If you have any kind of strong political/ethical opinion like being cruelty-free or vegan, he supports you and is very carefully when gift giving. Making sure all the brands are you approved :)

[demolitionsweetheart]

Lars Lindstrom x Gothic!reader Headcanons

☥ Thinks you're beyond out of his league but never wanted to have the courage to ask someone out so bad.

☥ Is pleasantly surprised that you love nature and takes you out to the lake.

☥ Unironically and very adorably points out two crows saying "Look, it's me and you."

☥ He always love your outfits. Whether that be over the top and somehow still so elegant outfits or just casual low effort ones, he adores all of them and always compliments you. Has a particular liking for small black dresses and long flowy skirts.

☥ Buys you dark lipsticks and makeup palettes with a deep color scheme because he thinks they suit you. So thoughtful

☥ Loves watching dark romance shows and movies with you. Even sat through the entire Twilight saga for you. His favorites are Red eye and Wuthering Heights.

Isnt a fan of scary movies himself, but that's okay! You can huddle together under the blankets and hold pinkys

☥ Sorry!! But he just cant always get into your music. Cant connect with every genre, but loves it when you play softer songs during drives. Like some stuff from The Cure and Nosferatu. Cant help but think you've chosen to play them intentionally because you love him and the lyrics are your way of telling him.

☥ Will genuinely sit right next to you or even right in front of you while you do your makeup especially when he knows your going somewhere bigger like a house party because he knows you'll really take your time doing a light base and intricate eyeliner. Plus he just loves being close to you even if he doesn't feel like talking.

☥ You're different, but he loves that. He loves how you stand out and express yourself freely. He loves that he can be his own odd self around you too. You understand each other so well and he's eternally greatful you're so understanding and great a safe space for him.

☥ If he finds a piece he knows you'll just adore, he has to have it! He loves giving gifts that fit you so well.

☥ Dates at bookstores and antique shops

☥ A little naughty, but he loves it when you kiss down his tummy and leave black kiss marks in your trace.

☥ Buys you stuffed animals of bats, cats, and birds to add to your already over-decorated room

☥He likes imagining your love as something out of the romance movies you watch together. Something gentle and permanent, where you both choose each other every day. That he would give his life for you and you for him.

☥ He thinks the way you care so deeply about animals is one of the sweetest things about you. Hell happily learn about cruelty free products and little changes he can make because he wants to be someone you’re proud of!!

[demolitionsweetheart]

You could be the chemical

Obsessed!Henry Letham x Reader

Content: Henry whos may be a bit too dependent on his partner. This is based off the song Slow Chemical by Finger Eleven. Fluff!! but maybe a bit suggestive. Also some references to Pantera.

Wc: 2.4k

"You're not only attached to them, youre attached to what being near them represents."

"what?"

"Say... feeling chosen. Feeling valuable. Maybe escaping loneliness. Feeling calm... even having a purpose. Thats what youre so drawn to."

Henry sighs, gaze drifting towards the deep clouds beyond the office window.

"Can I ask you something Henry?... What does being without them mean about you?"

He opens his mouth, but the silence answers first.

"...nothing." he stammers, "Nothing. I dont see myself without her. I need her and she needs me. Why would I ever think about not being with her."

His knee begins to bounce rapidly. As if the question itself could jinx their relationship. Why would he want to think about that? Why would he ever be without you?

The doctor nods along, scribbling something down for a moment.

"This might not be what you want to hear, Henry. And your feelings are real, but acting on every thought and urge is not helping you or them."

"..."

"I want you to build a routine that you know doesnt involve them. Something that is just you that doesnt involve going places just to see them or even thinking about them. I want you to think about who you are when youre not with them. Can you do that fo-"

Henry is already shaking his head before the doctor can even finish. "Thats- thats bullshit!" He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "What if i just love her and thats that? Not everything needs to be cured."

He shakes his head again, falling back against the cushions like it was so ridiculous to even suggest he needed to spend time away from her.

"Henry, I think-"

"I think I'm done for today actually. This is enough." Henry cuts in, already pushing himself to his feet.

The doctor let's out a sigh. "I understand. But please do consider. See you next time, Henry."

The apartment is silent except for the distant hum of the city outside. The faint shift of the mattress is the only sign that Henry is there.

He pauses, watching you sleep, his attention fixed on the way the moonlight spills through the sheer curtains and lights up your features.

A small smile pulls at his lips. For a moment, nothing else exists. Not the thoughts that chase him, not the fear of losing you. Just you...

The mattress shifts beneath his weight. Once hes face to face with you, he drops his head to your neck, inhaling your scent. Hes nudging his nose up and down your skin from your shoulder to your jaw. Like a cat scent marking the person they love the most.

He begins to pepper soft kisses along the curve of your skin. You shift beneath him, eyes barely opening as your hand finds his face. Fingers raking through his soft blonde strands. "...henry?" you begin. "Hi, baby... Can you tell me how much you love me?" He finally speaks, but doesnt stop his tenacious affection. "

"Tell me that youre mine..." he murmurs. His tongue flicks out briefly before he pulls back, lingering for a moment. He leans closer again, drawn back to the same spot to gently suckle. "Tell me how much you need me too... like how I need you. Say it."

"I love you. You know that... 's something wrong?" You say softly, sleep still clinging to you. You feel him smile into your neck. But Henry isnt satisfied.

He fingers the hem of you shirt, pulling it up and letting it bunch around your breasts. Hes not looking for a fuck, he just needs wants the reassuring feeling that comes with the warmth of your skin on his.

He ignores your question, "yeah? 'Cause I love you so much." he breath tickles your soft tummy. " 'nd youre mine. Forever, youre mines right? Can you say it?" he starts rubbing his entire face across you tummy.

"That tickles, Henry." You giggle sleepily, shuffling slightly underneath him. His hands find your waist, pressing you down firmly into the bed. He presses his lips just above your belly button. "Why wont you say it?" His voice is low and you cant quite place if hes angry, upset, or not feeling at all.

"Why? Do you not love me? Do you not need me as much as I need you? Am I not enough for you?" He continues. "What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself, Henry. Dont be silly." You argue, shifting yourself comfortably to fall back to sleep.

"No. See, and you still wont say it." His grip tightens almost painfully. His shift in tone is what finally wakes you up. "I love you, Henry. Im here" You indulge him. "But whats going on? Are you having those thoughts again?" You ask, words full of concern.

"Shh, no, stop... I dont want to talk about that. I just want to see you. I want to hear you. I want to feel you. I want you to love me. Say it again" He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Your hand finds his hair again, brushing the strands out of his face and tracing them down to his jaw, tilting his pretty face upwards. "I do love you, Henry. But I need you to tell me whats going on."

"You don't. You just need to love me." He kisses your tummy with a drawn out 'mmmm'. "I'd kill myself for you..."

Something in you goes cold at the words, and you can’t tell whether it’s fear or the realization that you’ve never heard him sound so serious. He reaches for your hand thats drifted to his shoulder, placing it back in his hair for you. Guides your fingers through a few strokes so you wont stop when his hand returns to your hips.

"I'd kill you for myself." He murmurs, voice low and dripping with raw obsessive love.

The words hang in the air between you. for a moment you dont know what to say... theres no anger in his words, no attempt to scare you. Just this frightening certainty like hes just admitted something hes always known.

"Henry.." you whisper.

His eyes soften at the sound of his name. That alone was enough to pull him back from whatever place his mind had wandered to. "I love you," he murmurs, softer this time as his head dips again to press a long, now sleepy kiss to your skin. "You know that right?"

"I know you do."

The tension slowly leaves his body. His tight grip on your sides slowly loosens. Eventually, exhaustion catches up to him. He settles against you, completely content. Arms around your waist and face tucked close is the only thing that let's him sleep.