S/O Has Diabetes - Part 2

S/O Has Diabetes - Part 2

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 525 / Read it on AO3 / Wattpad / PART 1

Featuring: Alfredo Sawyer, Edward "Tex" Saywer, Robert "Chop Top" Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, and Walter Edward "W.E." Slaughter

Warning: Sex and porn mentioned with Alfredo

Alfredo

→ Offers you to look at his porn magazine.

→ That's not really helpful and you probably don't want to see that…

→ Sex? Cuddles? He isn't sure how to comfort you.

→ Just tell him what you want or need, and he'll listen.

→ Unlikely to help you with your medicine, just cause he doesn't know how and doesn't want to mess it up.

→ If you really want him to, he will be terrified of messing it up. 

→ Talk him through it. He's also going to need help to calm down.

→ He'd do great but his hands would be shaky afterward.

→ Keeps sweets in his truck, the gas station, his room, or anywhere else you may need sweets at.

Edward (Tex)

→ Will listen and try to talk things out, cuddles, whatever makes you feel better.

→ Would help give you your medicine if you want or need him to.

→ Sweets are in bowls in the kitchen, his truck, his room, and anywhere else you may frequent. 

→ No one is allowed to take more than one sweet from the bowl unless it's you.

Robert (Chop Top)

→ He understands you being upset. He has a metal plate covering a hole in his head.

→ While it's not the same, he can't get rid of it and has to deal with it for the rest of his life.

→ He's going to cuddle you and tell stories about his childhood, his favorite band, and some army stories.

→ He knows what day of the week it is, but probably not the number. 

→ Unlikely to remember your medicine and that you need to take it.

→ You probably shouldn't have him help give you your medicine. He is easily distracted and would either go too fast, too slow or stop halfway.

→ When the thought of you taking medicine finally crosses his mind, he'll remind you to take your medicine. Probably only happens every six months to a year.

→ Carries candy on him. He isn't sure why. He did it before you met him.

→ If you need some candy, he'll pat down every one of his pockets until he finds one.

Nubbins

→ Very cuddly and will sit and listen to what you have to say. 

→ He isn't sure what else to do to help. 

→ Do you want a band-aid? No? Ok…

→ He has very shaky hands, so it's probably not a good idea for him to help.

→ I mean, if you really want him to, it's your funeral. 

→ Might carry a piece of gum on him, but that's it.

→ He won't carry anything else unless you ask him to.

W.E.

→ "Don't worry about it, you'll be alright."

→ He'd hug you and try his best to comfort you.

→ If you need a daily reminder, he'd do it. 

→ He'd just remind you every couple of days, even though you don't need reminding.

→ If you need or want him to give you your medicine, tell him or show him how it's done.

→ He'll do it every day or every time you need him to.

→ Will keep some sweets lying around, that no one else is allowed to touch except you.

→ May get physical with whoever touched it. That wasn't you.

Could you write Jason with a depressed S/O? You can include any other slashers you like as well.

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x reader headcannons

Contains: depression, mental illness, Jason is super loving, fluff, and cuddles

Jason is super attentive to your emotions

He is constantly checking in on you and doing his best to help you

When you fall into one of your depressive episodes Jason stays calm and does his best to distract you

If you take meds he will bring them to you so you can still take them

If you can’t get out of bed Jason will pick you up and bring you outside to sit on the porch with him so you can still get out

Jason is also on top of making sure you eat and bathe to keep you feeling the best physically

Jason will eat, bathe, brush his teeth, and do everything right there with you so you have the motivation to do so

He also makes sure he tells you how much he loves and appreciates you, he writes them on little notes and leave them on your bedside so you can re-read them when you’re feeling sad

Jason will constantly ask you to come on walks with him to get you in fresh air

He also does his best to clean the cabin so you don’t feel upset because of it getting messy

He always appreciates when you help out but he doesn’t expect you too

Spending Christmas Eve with Arthur & surprise kiss under mistletoe (headcanon) ☺️🎄

Implied smut at end.

I feel like this is really bad? IDK.

You had been planning your Christmas with Arthur for months.

Nothing and no one were going to stop you from spending the entire holiday with Arthur.

Not even you.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this for me.” 

Though he was speaking as quietly and as patiently as he usually does, you could tell by the hopeful glint in his eyes and the anxious way that he was toying with the cuffs of his beloved yellow hoodie that Arthur really did want to do all of these things with you.

“Yeah, I do, Arthur.” At his uncertain dart upwards with his eyes do you say, “I want to.”

Whatever your usual Christmas plans are, Arthur wants in on them all, no matter how silly or childish they seem.

When you tell him that you’re deciding to spend the holiday with him, though???

Poor boi loses his mind.

He laughs in disbelief, so hard that he ends up crying.

 He shakes his head, apologising as best as he can, but you just tug him into your arms and you hold him, your fingers stroking easily through his dark locks as you calm him.

His laughing fit only makes you even more sure of your decision. 

You want him to experience every possible tradition, food, activity, game, etc. about Christmas.

Whether you’re religious or not, he wants to do everything with you. All of it. 

Whether you think he’d enjoy it or not is a moot point, because he’s with you and so therefore he would enjoy it.

Arthur loves the music of the season!!!!

You woke up once in the night, not sure of what had woken you, but as you came to you realised that Arthur’s fingers were trailing up and down your arm, his fingers tapping out the beat to the last song which had played on the radio before bed.

You smiled, pulled him closer, and Arthur crooned some lyrics in your ear; his soft voice being just what you needed to lull you back into Morpheus’ embrace, though even a deity can’t protect you as well as Arthur can.

“Arthur, honey, what would you like for Christmas? Not what I want, not what we need for the apartment, what do you want?”

An edge of frustration crept into your voice. 

You had asked him this so many times and you heard his answer in your head before he even said it:

“I already have everything I want.” His intense stare and the happiness on his face says the next word for him, which settles like a blanket of snow between your bodies:

You.

Soon enough, it’s Christmas Eve and you’re really getting into the swing of things now.

You leave out some gingerbread biscuits and mince pies for Father Christmas and his reindeer (you both know nothing’s going to touch them but you want Arthur to get the full experience; he would have missed out on it all when he was a child).

You both go to bed, giddy as children, and your jaw aching with how wide you were smiling as you pulled him into your arms, sleep finding you both quite quickly.

The first thing you decide that you need to show Arthur in the morning, on the big day, was your personal favourite thing about Christmas:

Giving presents!

You hadn’t labelled any of the presents you had gotten him, you had only wrapped them. 

You had already given other people their presents, anyway.

With Arthur out in the living room tidying up the cups and plates and emptying out his ashtrays, it seemed convenient to reach under the bed and pull out all the presents you had gotten for him.

You had wrapped all of them as best as you could, putting so much effort into it that you had even impressed yourself, and now did you take them to the living room, your knees almost bowing under all the weight.

Arthur lingered in the doorway of the kitchen, his green eyes inquisitive.

“Y-Y/N, wh-what are you doing? Shouldn’t you have given those out before today?”

With a truly happy smile on your face did you look over at the absolute love of your life.

“I have.”

You saw that he still didn’t understand and, knowing that he would respond to your next words with painful laughter, did you say, “Arthur, honey, these are yours.”

Three, two, aaaaand - 

Painful laughter ripped forth from Arthur’s throat and you nodded solemnly, crossing the room to comfort him.

You held him tightly through the attack, stroking his dark hair and kissing his temple and you stayed.

When he was calm did you lead him to the gifts you had gotten him. 

You felt bad that you hadn’t gotten him more, but you had already spent too much money this month so it was the best you could do.

Arthur only ever deserved your best.

You got him: a new journal, a proper winter coat, the biggest multipack of cigarettes you could find (even if you disliked the vice, you wouldn’t deny him anything and so with a wrinkled nose had you bought them), more makeup for work (he had literally been scraping the bottom of the barrel this morning, a concerned frown on his face as he looked at the calendar - another two weeks until payday; he couldn’t go that long without Carnival), another clown wig, and - a bright red two piece suit.

To you, it wasn’t anything special and you felt guilty that you couldn’t give him more.

Arthur unwrapped every present slowly, his flat palms tracing over every gift which was cushioned in his bony lap as he undid the tape with spidery fingers. He folded the discarded paper and you knew it’d become pressed in the pages of his new journal as irrefutable proof of this night.

With reverence did Arthur look over everything you got him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his cheeks damp with overflowing love as he looked up at you like you were an angel.

His angel.

He told you as much before he kissed you deeply in thanks; his lips so fierce against your own that it made your toes curl in your socks.

Then, he crossed over to the tiny desk in the corner of the room and grabbed his battered brown journal and joke book, flicking to a certain page easily and holding it out to you.

“I couldn’t afford to get you a gift,” He mumbled, embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning the same delicate shade of pink as the one on his cheeks, “But I… here, Y/N.”

You took the journal, seeing Arthur struggling so completely for words made you deeply curious, and your eyes roamed over the page, a blush coming to your own face before you focused on the very first word and read it slowly, savouring the pages upon pages of scribbles, doodles and words; some crossed out, more misspelled and some written with care.

It was all about you - your favourite things were drawn around the corners of the pages, smiley faces and crooked love hearts dotted the pages and acted as punctuation, things you had said to him or done together, things he wanted to do with and to you…. pages upon pages… you counted eighteen before a sealed envelope fell out of the journal.

Quickly did Arthur scoop it up. “T-That’s the journal finished… I - I wanted to write you something, to give you something to open.”

Arthur moved all of his gifts over to the armchair which Penny used to sit in so that you could sit on the sofa, holding the envelope in your hands.

You were getting teary eyed just seeing your name written in Arthur’s writing, and with a slight shake to your hand did you break the seal, Arthur sitting beside you and taking your other hand.

With his other hand did he pull his trick out of his trousers pocket - a piece of mistletoe.

He had refrained from buying a pack of cigarettes in order to buy it fresh and he had kept it in his pocket all day, waiting for the perfect moment.

He watched you read his letter once, twice, three and then four times; your emotions playing out on your face like a film.

He watched as you teared up, smiled, gasped softly or squeezed his hand as you read the letter a fifth time.

“Arthur, I - you - I love you so fucking much”

“I know,” A quiet murmur of truth, “I love you too. You’re my everything.” 

Distracted sufficiently by his letter did Arthur reach his arm up to hold the mistletoe over your heads.

You followed his arm up, up, and smiled.

“You know what my favourite part of Christmas is?”

“What?” You smiled even wider, knowing where this was going.

“Following traditions.”

In a rare bout of confidence which channelled his future self did Arthur claim your lips with his and the rest of the day was spent in a blissful haze of love, lust and everything in between.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing        @vivft                  @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92  @that-s-life   @dopey-girl-blogs         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts       @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom              @anti-peach       @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck      @crazieroutthere      @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula@stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia    @rustyt33th     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff      @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp 

Slashers! S/O hurt by a victim pt.2

Slashers x gn!reader

Includes Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, hurt/comfort, minor angst, injuries, blood, fluffy shit

Billy Loomis

It was partially his fault, he was careful but didn’t always think everything through

That’s why you were currently in the clutches his supposed to be victim, knife held to your neck, you could feel warmth from your blood seep down the blade and beneath the collar of your shirt. Struggling only made the situation worse, although you couldn’t help the small gasp as more pressure was applied to your current wound

Feral. You’d never seen Billy’s eyes filled with such a look of utter insanity. He’d done despicable things, ruined lives, played with people like they were just there for his entertainment, but this, seeing you so close to the edge he sent so many others, was the final straw to snap whatever piece of him was remotely still human

He fingers clasped the knife tighter in his grasp, curling around the hilt and wishing he could drive it into your captors jugular

“They ain’t part of this!”

Brows pushed down, mouth pulled in a snarl, he went to take the risk and lunge before a choking sound cut the tension rising in the kitchen in half, your body stumbling towards Billy by instinct, comforted by the way he dropped the knife with a clatter and wrapped his arms around your body, hurried to get you as close as possible

Stu stood at the other end of the tiled floor, half smile glimmering as he stared down at the man he’d just disposed of from life

You curled further into your boyfriends chest, unable to shake the fear you’d felt moments before, still able to feel the cold metal pressing into your flesh. One of Billy’s hands worked it’s way up your trembling back, cupping your face as to direct your eyes to his. They were warm, vacant, yet warm when they landed on your wide eyed expression

“That’ll never happen again, you hear me? Never.”

Letting you push your face back into his neck, the killer began rubbing soft circles on your spine, cold gaze frozen on the still body mere feet away. If looks could kill, the man would have several more stab wounds, each more painful than the last

Billy’s eyes fell to the blade he’d planned on using, head tilting ever so slightly as he pondered how it wouldn’t be out of his way to inflict a few lacerations across the face that even would dare to breathe beside you

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn’t like you being around victims, during times where he was killing he got reckless, so dazed in his mind and it constantly worried him that in such a state he could mistake you for another and cause you harm

That being said, mistakes happen

Bubba was standing in a bloody puddle, leaking from the headless body beside him. Loose, brown curls fell in his face as he shook his head held by his rough palms, almost cradling himself. He’d been fooled by one of his potential victims, ending up with him alone with a dead body, and someone missing who knew too much.

The others were gonna rip him a new one, he didn’t even want to think about the look on your face. You’d look at him with such pity, you had yet too thus far, but he just knew that expression was soon to fall on your face. How couldn’t it?

The negative wave of thoughts dragging Bubba down were sliced through by a piercing scream, a chill running down his spine before he realized who’s voice it was who made such a sound, he’d recognize it anywhere

No amount of debris, rickety stairs, tables or chairs could keep Bubba from getting to you, all knocked from his path as the lumbering, masked man ran the fastest his legs would go, chainsaw alive and buzzing in his ear

Bubba didn’t even take a second to pause as he took in the scene, still running full force like his life depended on it. Anguish filled his veins, the victim was straddling your cowering body, arms raised to protect against their assault of punches, they were screaming something he didn’t care to hone in on, focused on getting the offender off and away from you

All he saw was red, on his arms, the creases of his hands soaking into the soles of his boots, digging past the fabric at the knee of his pants as he knelt down, pushing the limp, torn and mangled body from atop of you. Fingers trembling, Bubba paused as you sat up in shock, clothing and skin flushed with blood. Scooting until your body was closer to the man, you crumpled into his embrace, letting you arms fall limp, nose digging into his shoulder. Calloused hands clutched the shirt on your back, tugging you closer, you could feel his soft, unintelligible mutters and whimpers pliant into your collar bone

The two of you just sat there, not wanting to be away from each other for even a second after such a close call

Bo Sinclair

Unlike Bubba, Bo likes you beside him nearly every minute. Yeah, sometimes he’s an asshole, but that’s just one of the traits you’ve come to accept as part of the man you love

It was between the moments where you weren’t stuck to his side, or sitting off within his view, that you realized you were at your most vulnerable, unfortunately we all have a lesson that teaches us such

“Where the fuck are my friends?”

A rough, gritty voice yelled from behind you, catching your moment of silence off guard, spinning around, your heart dropped to your stomach as your eyes landed on what you recognized as one of Bo’s victims standing with squared shoulders, but what made it worse was the fact they were holding a gun

The stranger only seemed to seethe with further rage at the look of your confused face, mouth opening and closing like a fish, eyes wide as the gun raised and their finger went to the trigger

Right as the blaring ring of a shot went off, you were thrown to the side by a heavy weight, body landing on the ground with a dull thud and two large hands blocking the bulk of the impact, hands that were gone from your body a second later, dark shadow leaving frame quick as light as loud footsteps echoed after it

“You son of a bitch!”

You knew that voice, rolling over to gaze at the scene right at Bo tackled the victim to the ground, straddling their body and delivering punch after punch, unable to see his face but hearing the loud curses and violent statements he let fly recklessly

Concern, wide eyes found your similarly large ones, knuckles torn and clothes splattered with red. The mechanic practically folded down into you, forehead coming to press against yours, Bo’s thumbs pressed into the skin under each of your ears, tilting your chin up

“Are ya’ alright baby?”

You could only nod, frightened to think you’d nearly been shot, yet comforted by the warm embrace of the killer, his usual stoic gaze softened, searching you over for any scrapes or cuts. Lips press to the crown of your head, you could lightly hear his inhaling your scent, sighing from the exhaustion of the ordeal

“You’re never leaving my sight again”

Lester Sinclair

Lester doesn’t get himself caught up with Bo and Vincent’s business most the time, in fact as much as a talker the man is, he does like to keep to himself

That’s why it’s a surprise when you’re chilling in the passenger seat of the mans car, mindlessly flipping through a magazine, when an unfamiliar voice enters the warm, afternoon air

“Listen buddy, my friends have been gone for hours and you’re the last person they saw, start talking”

You can see out the pickup trucks window the back of someone facing Lester, their fists clenched as he drops the current task at hand. His gaze darts to you, over their shoulder, and it widens when the stranger whips around, hand on the car door handle, throwing it open

“Get out, I’m taking the car”

Your arm is roughly grasped at the bicep, stumbling over your feet when you’re tossed to the leaf covered ground, wincing at your knee slices against a rock. Eyes squeezing shut at the pain, you didn’t even notice the quick steps of Lester behind you, his shadow looming over yours on the ground as a howl of pain became present. In seconds, the once standing stranger slumped to the ground beside you, cold eyes glazed over, a rather vicious yet precise cut to the base of their throat

“Aw darl’, yer knees all cut up”

Lester mumbled, squatting to your height as he looked over the damage, eyes big and clearly worried. Unsettled, that was the best way to describe the look plastered across the mans face, mouth pulled in a deep frown. Still in shock from being so manhandled out of your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling the underside of his jaw. Never mind the dirt and sweat that caked his skin, it was comforting at this point

“Never lettin’ someone push ya around like that again, ya hear me?”

His rough palms rubbed the expanse of your back, glancing down at the body still inches away growing colder by the minute

“Let’s take care of that knee”

Requests open!

Omfg, you're a genius!!

How did you manage to make this so fun AND comforting??

I loved everything about this!! The reader being a negotiator?? Hank overthinking all the time and basically not knowing how emotions work?? Mwah, mwah, chef's kiss!! He brought coffee instead of flowers, just AGGGHH! YES! His way of speaking, the banter between him and the reader, it's just all so awesome and genuine, I loved it, thank you <3333

My Feelings With A Little Bit Of You And A Little Bit Of Me (DBH Hank x GN Reader)

Main Masterlist A/N: Hello! I just want to say that this goes into the topic of SH. Though it is not described and there is no action taking place it is hinted at. There is no description of injuries only behaviors. A/N: It does talk about Hanks attempt which was hinted at in the video game. A/N: If you are ever in this situation know that you are not alone and that there are people out there to help.

A/N: If you are in the U.S please call or text this number if you or a loved one are struggling. And for everyone else in the world please reach out. You are loved and cherished by someone and it would be deeply saddening if you were taken from this world so soon. Suicide and Crisis Hotline U.S: 988

A/N: Hank might be OOC I apologize

Summary: Hank cares for you, probably more then he should, So when he notices your pattern of behavior after certain events he decides to reach out. Not as a Lieutenant, but as a friend and hopefully something more.

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