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desthesleepdeprivedwriter · 2 years

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Happy Birthday, Papa!

It’s hard living by yourself, father and son, with no one else to help out, he finds out. It was not the first time they were like this, but Yogurt didn't have so many memories from their little cottage in the woods, before they moved into the shiny city and SS Sally.

He kinda misses the boat, it wasn't big, but it had a constant rocking that helped him sleep, and so many salmon would swim by and Yogurt would lean over the edge and talk to them. Sometimes Papa would join him, pointing at some of the fish. "That's Aunt Berta. That's cousin Marion." And Yogurt would giggle and wave to the salmon. "Hi, auntie! Hi, cousin!"

Yogurt isn’t sure how Papa manages so much stuff, like killing the monsters and spiders, building their new home in the desert ("Welcome to Dry Waters!" Papa said, when they arrived at dawn. They had to leave the boat in the middle of the night, and Yogurt had slept right before they crossed the weird purple portal.), and Yogurt definitely doesn't know how Papa manages to bake, he just knows this isn’t the right purple, for it’s too bright and yucky.

He keeps adding Lilacs anyway, because Papa deserves a cake. That man he talks on communicator , apparently called Grandza, said so in his text.

“Best wishes on your birthday – may you have many, many more. Let’s eat cake together if you have the time.”

Yogurt remembers last year, when he woke up and Papa handed him a triple layered cake (orange, purple, green) with white icing. He told Yogurt that he had to go to a party and didn't want to wake him up. Yogurt was happy with the cake, and with his Papa being there when he woke up.

The fox kit sighed, and then went over to color another bowl with the cake batter, thinking about his last year.

It has been a few weeks without Tio Quack, Uncle Foolish and his friends, and some part of him wanted to see Finley and Junior’s faces twist with jealousy when he would eventually brag about the cake he baked, for their dad was so old they didn’t even celebrate. Not his Papa, he was special like that, having a whole birthday of his own.

Alas, they weren’t anywhere near their new home, and his Papa said he wanted everything to be like the days it was only them so he could spend time with Yogurt without getting distracted with fountains and such. And Yogi didn’t complain, Yogurt liked having his Papa all to himself very much, they got to play so many games. Like that one time, he and his Papa played hide and seek for the WHOLE DAY! He had looked and looked and looked, and he was almost giving up! But then he found his dad hiding by his own bed!

It was almost scary when he did, Papa was bruised and bloody all over, staining the pillows and sheets, but then he told Yogi how he had to constantly switch his places because he almost got found, and then he fell while he was trying to hide. His Papa was silly like that sometimes. He always managed to slip and get in accidents like that, maybe that was why he would fuss over Yogurt so much, imagine if the two were that clumsy! They'd always be bruised.

Yogurt put everything in the oven, like he once watched Uncle Tubbo baking in the Tubburguer. When he asked who the cake was for, Uncle Tubbo just sadly smiled and didn't respond. It was weird, Uncle Tubbo was a weird, kinda sad uncle, but he gave Yogurt cookies once, so that was good enough.

After doing that, Yogurt quietly tiptoed to his Papa's room, peeking inside. Papa was sleeping, he was doing more of that since their hide and seek game (He must have gotten really tired), and was rolling all over the bed as if they were still at the boat, the waves gently rocking them.

His Papa was talking in their sleep, sometimes whimpering. Yogurt felt his ears press against his head, but then he got even more determined to make the best cake ever.

It would cheer up his silly papa, because who wouldn't want to have a whole cake to eat without having to share?

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Wrote this with the amazing, outstanding, perfect angel @dot--png

@geminisync @oakskull @appleflavoredkitkats @astroninaaa @melissa-s23 @sootstuff @xie-solarin @ghost-jamie @wiiwarechronicles (just bc its fundy n yog content and i think u would like it) @starsandfluff

#dream smp #fundy #not a commission #yogurt dy #hey guys its late but shut up #im trying ok #dottie helped me a lot <3

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patches-and-her-selfships · 2 years

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finally got around to making a ref sheet for my fhfif s/i dottie (this took an embarrassingly long time to set up)

also a little doodle to fan the flames of my love for wilt

#tried to make it sorta psychedelic like fhfif #the design’s a bit complicated but i think it’s neat #and i couldn’t figure out how to draw it in the doodle but dottie’s tails turn into a heart whenever he’s really in love with wilt #which is technically all the time but shut up #sorry i like you 🏀#scribbling graffiti on the walls #mememe #self ship #self ship art #self ship community #s/i ref

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haribojam · 1 year

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Since there’s no screenshots of Dottie, I’ll fill in that role since nobody would

#butch cassidy and the sundance kids #butch cassidy hanna barbera #butch cassidy cartoon #BCATSK #hanna barbera #idk if it’s dottie or dotty #but since there’s already a HB character named dotty I’ll go with the former #also she’s basically Melody Valentine but purple #why she ourple #also I think she only appeared in one episode #do correct if I’m wrong about that bc I actually don’t know #haribo shut up

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elderdragonblu · 2 years

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Idk if I’ll regret posting this but I realized I haven’t posted any art in a while so here are my OCs: Dottie (left) and Sandy (right)!

They’re apart of an original story I’m working on that I might share more abt if I allow myself to. This is them before the events of the story!! :D

#art #original content #original art #original character #they’re my babies I love them #Dottie is a short mean lesbian who gets nicer as the story goes on #and soon to be gf Sandy is a tall chill Pansexual who already knows herself but also has some isses #cause why not #i love them sorry 😭#I’ll probably never shut up abt them too

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spiteful-lvsts · 6 months

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•And I’m The Perfect Sacrifice•

• Final Guy!Reader x Slasher!Dottore

• AMAB Top!Reader x Bottom!Dottore

• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.

• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore

• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one

The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.

And yet, you can’t. You won’t.

Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.

“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.

He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”

Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.

There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”

“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”

“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.

And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.

A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.

So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.

Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...

Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.

“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.

In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.

Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?

He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”

A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.

Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.

Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.

When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.

You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.

Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.

The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.

A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.

Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.

So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.

“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.

When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.

Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.

“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”

The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.

Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.

His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.

You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”

And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.

All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.

Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.

All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.

It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.

You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.

Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.

Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.

It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.

Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.

The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.

Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’

He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.

You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.

Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.

It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!

His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.

Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.

You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.

A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.

When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.

How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.

Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.

In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.

Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.

Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.

But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?

Well, that’s between you and Dottore.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin x male reader #dottore #sub dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #top reader #dom reader #male reader #gn reader #< ♥ > writing #i worry my writing is too incoherent sometimes :(#so i hope this makes sense #reader was supposed to be meaner but i accidentally made this hurt/comfort oops #cw blood #cw unsanitary

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adoregojo · 2 months

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after decades, I finally write a fic about hiroi, even if it was a little short and mid at least it's something d: i love his character sosososos much even if he was a little hard to write mwah mwah i still love pretty boys. warnings: cussing. mention of needles. tattoo artist!reader, karasu being a third wheel. hiroi being a lovesick bastard, karasu basically suffering throughout the fic.

"what are we even doing here?" karasu's question goes upon death ears, suddenly he regrets tagging along in this.

it was like 8:49 at night, the crow head had his plans ready and set up just for hiori to barge in and drag him to a half hour drive to some tattoo studio on a an unfamiliar street he never stepped a foot on. this should consider kidnapping, he knew he should've screamed out of the window when he had the chance.

however he gotta admit the place didn't look half bad, it was well styled and didn't reek of smoke like expected, it even whiffed of fragrance. black painted walls and some hanged pieces of art, whoever chose them have a good taste. but being the smartass he is, karasu knew that whatever reason hiori was here for, was definitely not for a tattoo.

it was obvious even a blind one could get it, the cyan head had to take a few breathers out and in before opening the door. he didn't like that foolish smile that stayed glued to his face all the way here, and doesn't his cheeks hurt from beaming that damn long? like he didn't make the same remark of him smirking day and night, fucking hypocrite.

and what he didn't like most of all was how he kept overlooking him all that time, basically neglecting whatever doubts that pushed out his lips.

it's someone or something that was definitely dancing on his mind all night long. that explains why have he been coming to the dorms late at nights for the past weeks, he didn't even pat an eye to the class he missed. karasu was starting to think he was being hold hostage at once.

the crow male watch as he entered what he can guess it's where people sit on a chair and getting brutally needled by a an unbothered tattooer, that looked like it hurts like a bitch if you ask him. and when hiori sat down comfortably on a stuffed couch like it was his own home, he had enough.

"ye better answer me before i slam that stupid smile you have on ya face." karasu threat, showing his mettle and irritation just for his cyan friend to pat on the empty space beside him. karasu could feel his hair white, just what the hell was he getting on.

he sat down anyway, his hands deep in his pockets. the couch was awfully too comfy. he needs to ask for this brand, after beating hiori's ass of course. maybe he'll park his car in the place where birds shat on daily for a pay back, sounds like a plan.

"soooo, ya speaking or not, shithead?"

"be a good friend and shut yer yap, please?" that's the first thing he says tonight, and still with that put-off smile.

"yea, no wonder ya got only one friend." his remark was left hanging in the air. karasu had to physically clench his fist to a ball before he actually make hiori give the tile floor a very loving kiss.

his cyan hues were transformed to another direction, the path where a middle aged man was on the shelf of tears and the tattoo artist trying to hand them a piece of sooth. it was an embarrassing sight, and a situation to be put in. he had a knowledge of hiori being a little into drama but this better not be what he was brought up for.

however, that wasn't what hiori's eyes was on, if he looked closely, his sights were sat on the tattooist themselves, and that ogle was the definition of being absolute dotty and smitten, hiroi's ears were tipsy and he looked like he was about burst out the universe from his chest. disgusting is you asked karasu.

fucking hell, hirori had the fattest crush on the tattoo artist and he had to sit there and watch him grew enamoredly over them by the second.

you were literally in a misery of a situation, sweat running downhill your forehead, your locks were messy and out of place. and his friend over here eyes about to glow out in a shade of hearts like you were the only one to look at. he seriously wanted to throw up at this makeshift k-drama, he'd even throw tomatoes if he can.

he wondered what mistake he owned the university for to make him sit down there for the next hour with sniffing echoes throughout the walls and the annoying noises of that coil will definitely haunt him in his dreams. did he mention that he wasn't having a good time?

finally that man took his leave, mumbling apologies over and over his way before weaving over at you. this was the call of freedom, the door was calling him, seducing him with it blazing light to go through it and take his leave because he was dead serious when he say that he doesn't feel his butt no more.

"hiroi? is that you?"

have mercy on him.

you walked up to them, karasu doesn't know if it was hallucination taking over him but he could hear his friend's rabid heart pounding louder than ever by every step you take, he really thought another foot step would give a heart attack.

he doesn't think twice before standing up to greet you. "hi." hiori's reply came out clumsily, his eyes revolving around every corner of the room but your figure.

"hello, hello. did you finally decide to a get a tattoo?" you tilted your head slightly. he shook his head in response, "not yet, I actually came here for you." he admitted, you fix your posture quickly. playing with your fingers timidly behind your back, a failed attempt to hide the affect of his words.

"well, are you willing to wait a few hours before a finish this shift?" you asked jokingly, flashing your lashes rabidly. you could feel his gaze burning on you, drinking on your every move and every feature, detailed and craved to his mind.

"I'll wait for whatever long if that means seeing you." hiroi cooed, when did that girlish dude become a sappy one? as if he was finding pure joy in seeing you all red-faced and shrinking. you chuckle in response, raising your hand in attempt to places the hair locks back to it place. you definitely looked hideous right now, yet he kept his dreamy pairs on you only.

gently, he takes your hand his. slowly and timed in case you felt uncomfortable, it fitted perfectly, made for him to hold. the urge to lock your fingers together was tight. flipping your hand then he opened your gloved palm that was pained after the hour of holding the coil. hiori reaches for his pocket to site a piece of warped up candies. your favourites.

you stare at him, almost as if asking him without the need of words. "you mentioned that your jar run out of candy, so I brought you some. if you wanted i can refill it for you." he says, still looking at your still warped up in his hand. it bloomed him with unexplained warmth.

a burst of butterflies swirls in your stomach, he was close, almost leaning over your face that you could feel his suffuse mint breath tickling your skin. "that's so... thoughtful of you, hiroi. you're too kind."

"only for you."

what the fuck is he witnessing.

you two were literally making-out in front of karasu, and he was this close to bawling his eyes out. he seriously considered what on earth did he have done to deserve witnessing his friend being all lovey-dovey with a hot tattooist, is the consequence of him being friends with otoya finally catching him?

his blue bare of eyes sae as hiori pointed his finger at at him, "actually he wants to get a tattoo."

he was what now?

"wait wha-"

"and he'd like to do it anytime soon."

he couldn't actually believe this, absolute backstabbed. his what he considered a friend was basically setting him up just so he can spend time with his crush. just what the hell, what kind of betrayal is this, he got sat up brutally by the last person he expected from.

your eyes traveled to karasu's jaw dropped face. you didn't even notice him until hiori pointed him out. "oh, I'm sorry it's packed up today. i can set him for someone else if you want to." you suggested.

"no, i only trust you to do that." hiori didn't rethink before saying that, your eyes widened at him. he always managed to caught you off guard with his genuine sugar-coating words.

"if you insist, i have an empty seat tomorrow."

"I'll make sure we'll be there. and it's his first time, be gentle with him, kay?"

"I'll make sure to." you assured him, patting him on his arm. he held himself back from jolting at your nails digging his skin through the fabric of his sweater. it was soft, something that he isn't quite used to. and it lingered longer than it was supposed to when you lifted it off.

you take a piece of rolled up paper and stuff it into his pocket, "my number, call when you need." you say, eyes shifting between the floor and hiori's own, kicking your feet from side to side. while he couldn't take his off you. like blinking would make you disappear and slip away forever.

he knew he was taking advantage of karasu, and he was all ready for the consequences of it all if it mean spending any more seconds alongside with you. he promise to cherish it and held it deep within the depths of his soul. he promised to make it to him later, but now he was just too drowned to care, too intoxicated to think about anything beside of you.

"how about i go bring you some dinner? and we'll-"

"FUCK NO!" Karasu finally snapped.

in a blink of an eye, hiori was being harshly pulled by his behind collar, "we're are going home, and that's final!" karasu shouted as he dragged the cyan head who kept on reaching his hand uselessly towards you. he couldn't protect himself before he was already out of the store then thrown carelessly into the passenger seat.

the crow slammed the car door grimly, warping the safety belt then driving off like there was no tomorrow. not giving hiori a time to get a grip of himself. a pregnant silence fall on them, and he couldn't careless when he felt a burning glare on his head, if looks could kill, karasu would've been dead thousands of times.

"fucking cockbloker."

"oh, zip it you sadistic bitch."

study math? no, write for hiori? hell yea

#hiori x reader #hiori yo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #hiori yo

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dottie-wan-kenobi · 4 months

Text

Shen Yuan aka “Peerless Penis”,

#is this anything #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #svsss #shut up Dottie

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midnigtartist · 4 months

Text

Crying and shaking and pissing i need to make more Reginald content immediately

#talking dotty lore w the homies #i need to draw reggie rn #tav shit #shut up aimee

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Unexpected 51

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?

Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.

Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.

You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.

When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.

That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.

You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.

You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.

You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.

You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.

You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.

“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”

You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.

You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.

“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”

Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.

“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”

You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.

“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”

“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”

He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.

“Lloyd, give her back.”

“What?”

“Don't. Give me Luna.”

“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”

You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.

“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”

“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”

You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.

“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”

You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.

“The back door was unlocked.”

“I know, I thought you were out there–”

“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”

🍑

You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.

Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.

Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?

“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”

“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”

“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”

“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”

He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.

“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”

“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.

“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.

“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”

You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.

“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”

“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”

“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”

“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”

“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.

You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.

You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.

You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.

“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.

You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.

“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.

“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”

You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”

“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”

“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”

He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.

“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”

You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.

You were wrong. Again.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber #andy barber x reader #unexpected #series #drabble #the gray man #defending jacob

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

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How about “desperately wanting to be angry, but they can't push past the hurt they're feeling with the trust being broken” from the prompt list? An angsty one with a really fluffy ending? <3

it's a little angsty, little fluffy *reader thinks peter's cheating

It always started with a ‘hey girlie,’ text.

Any girl in a relationship knew what that meant.

You thought Peter was a safe bet, there was no way Peter would ever cheat on you, right?

Two words sent you into panic, your heart was beating a million miles a minute, your vision felt dotty and the urge to throw up, cry and scream was running rampant, even if you were to have a mental breakdown you didn’t know where to start.

Actually, first things first, who is this chick? You clicked on her name, Cynthia Prescott, no mutual friends. There were only a few pictures, each smile she wore dug and pushed further and further into your gut, there would be no way Peter could ever cheat, unless it was with a girl like that. If you had big enough balls you would watch her story, but you already felt like you were shutting down.

You wanted to respond. Anything, “hey, sis.” or “wussup, girlie?” maybe even “please god don’t ruin anything for me, he’s all I have.” Instead you swallowed your tongue and closed out, if you didn’t ask then she wouldn’t tell, then you wouldn’t have to know. That was the best possible plan, you could pretend this never happened, you didn’t know a Cynthia Prescott, and by the looks of it none of your friends did.

‘Message me back, girlfriend! I have something to bring to your attention.’

A second message, emojis littered her words, it was like sprinkling glitter on an open wound. You wanted to scream, you kept telling yourself it wasn’t real, he couldn’t have done it. For a minute you think about deleting the app all together, but that would make you weak, wouldn’t it? Run away, play pretend that your boyfriend didn’t cheat?

You should be angry, seething, enraged. You should want to tear apart his dorm room, wipe his computer’s history, email his professors a list of curse words they remind him of, spill coffee on his returnable textbooks, anything to cause him a pinch of the hurt you were feeling.

It was hurt, wasn’t it? The way your stomach dropped, the way you feel frozen, the way you can’t stop thinking about it. ‘Not peter, not peter, not peter,’ a chant rattled your mind, you collapsed to his bed, ‘hey, girlie, not peter, hey, girlie, not peter,’ you couldn’t help to pick up your breath.

A full blown panic attack, when was Peter coming back? His class ended at four, what time was it? Where was your phone, the phone with the dm, the one with the text, the one that says he’s cheating.

“Woah, are you okay?”

Peter’s hands were held up, he was thrown off seeing you hyperventilate on his bed. Your hands shake, you should be angry, you should be screaming, you should hate him. So why do you want him to say sorry and hug you, kiss you softly, hold you until you feel whole again, why did it hurt so much?

His hands wrap around your shoulders, “baby, you okay?”

You stared at him in shock, “you’re cheating on me.” A fact, not to be questioned.

Peter pulls a face, “I am?”

You nod, “I got a text.”

“Oh.” He looks at the ground, you see guilty, you nearly break into tears. Your stomach hurts, your chest is tight, you feel lightheaded, nothing feels right and everything just hurts.

“Can I ask who with?”

A sick joke, he couldn’t even keep count, he wanted a number from his lineup. You shrug his hands off, wipe at your nose, “Cynthina Prescott,” Peter’s eyes widen, he nods, the name bouncing in his mind.

“Baby, who the fuck is Cynthia Prescott?”

“I don’t know! You’re the one fucking her, she told me!”

Okay, maybe she didn’t but you knew what that text meant.

“Baby, I don-”

“Don’t call me that! Liar!”

He sighs, “I don’t know a Cynthia, Y/N, I swear.”

Your eyes narrow, “then why did she tell me she did?”

“I don’t, I’m,” he’s pulling at straws, he feels like he’s the one being gaslighted, he looks for your phone on the bed.

“Did she tell you in person, or text you? Bab- Y/N, I don’t know who she is I promise.”

You hold a hand to your chest to settle your breath, “instagram dm,” Peter rested a hand on your head to calm you, his other hand finding your phone and opening up the app, and tapping on messages he saw the culprit immediately. He was ready to defend his honor to death, his next step is tracking them down. Until he blinked at the messages, “honey, did you delete something?” There was nothing that indicated anything of the sort, just a cryptic message, if anything he thought it was spam.

“No,” you whimper the words, his fingers massage at your head slightly, he seemed confused but you also never would’ve guessed he’d cheat.

“Baby, I don’t see anything about me here. I don’t know who she is and she isn’t following anyone I know.”

“It’s a hey girlie text, peter!”

Peter finally sat next to you, your phone in his grasp. “I don’t know what that is,” you groan, “it means like, hey girlie, your man is doing something sus.”

Peter scrunches his face, “but I don’t know her, look, just message her, ask her to show you.”

You shake your head fast, “I’d rather not see it, I don’t want to see you with someone else.”

He huffs, “I’m not cheating! I’m not skilled enough to do that, let alone have enough time in the day!” You sniffed, peter grunted, “fuck this, I’m asking.”

‘I’d love to see it, girlie!’

You wrinkle your nose, almost on automatic response it shoots a reply.

‘You’re so pretty, I’d love for you to promote our new product! Just add me and download our app, use my name for a free bottle!’

Relief fills you, it was a bot, a simple mlm, a pyramid scheme, no real threats.

“Oh my god, peter, I am so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Geez Louise, babe. I know I’m nerdy but fucking a robot? C’mon now.”

A joke, he wasn’t mad. Even after you accused him of the worst betrayal, he was trying to make you feel better. “I was so hurt and scared, I didn’t believe it, or didn’t wanna believe it, so I didn’t message her back but, like, i’m so sorry petey.”

Peter presses a kiss to your temple, “it’s okay, baby. It was very convincing, it said hey girlie.”

You groan and lean into him, “you don’t understand, you will never understand.”

“Is that a tone? Are you taking a tone up with me? Should I text Cynthia for a good time?”

You sock his arm, “too soon!”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst #my writing

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tiyoin · 29 days

Note

Tbh if Trey was Yan for me, it wouldn't take much. When he's not Yan, Trey's my "I'm Ace but if he asked me to birth his kids I'd have to really think about it" character. I know he's sus...but if he was Yan I simply wouldn't even notice. Yeah, he's not normal, but Dot is silly, and would be like "huh it's weird that I pass out every time I eat one of Trey's strawberry tarts, must be allergic to strawberries" then he'd be like, "You must be right darling" and then stop serving me strawberry dishes.

I'm weak to my baker boy 😭 he would not have to try hard with me.

(for your readers who missed your initial Yan vice dorm Leaders post, this isn't just me simping over Trey Clover okay so shut up 😭)

oOooOoo dotty’s got a crush 🤭🤭

*the whole class ‘OoOo’s’ and points*

but seriously, yandere trey would be SO discreet. like you wouldn’t even be able to tell if he’s yandere or just some silly little baker boy who likes making you things 🤭

yandere trey just comes with the added bonus of daily naps! and stomach aches 😖 but dw! trey is right there with a soothing cup of tea!

the having kids with trey thing immediately stuck out to me like a sore thumb cause:

imagine a family with trey though??? IMAGINE THE DOMESTIC LIFE WITH TREY THOUGH???

living the dream of owning a bakery with your highschool sweetheart ☺️ maybe you have kids. maybe you have fur babies! all you know is that you’re living the life with your husband

though i definitely see trey as a family man, but if it’s yan! trey we’re talking about then i can imagine him playing a bit… dirty to get that large dream family he’s always wanted

maybe he pops holes in the condoms? or maybe he gives you one too many sweets! but you’re hot n bothered and about to pounce on him!!

but also, thinking about trey with an ace! reader.

i can definitely imagine a record scratch going on up there. even if it’s yan trey i still imagine him taking ace! reader’s / your emotions into consideration.

there’s gonna be a lot of subtle hinting towards family stuff. like when he makes you work the register everytime your regulars- usually families with small children, come in. or when he subtly puts his hands on your stomach whenever he hugs you from behind. OR! OR!! when you’re both walking your dog, a stereotypical family dog like a bernes mountain dog or a golden retriever; he’s gonna sometimes stop in front of store fronts and stare at the family if mannequins.

and it’ll just- it’ll just pull on your heart strings sooo much you start to seriously debate it.

i mean, what’s one child right? it’s not too big of a deal, right? i mean normally it would be, but you have trey! but also… the process :/ icky!!!!!

if you end up giving in, the gods are gonna bless mr. patient-as-a-saint trey clover with twins. and it’ll only spiral.

—

but at night raven, you wouldn’t even realize trey is monopolizing your time. like, you joined the science club because you were bad at potions! and it helps that you have a friendly face in case you’re nervous!

oh boy you look so skinny!! trey’s horrified! why don’t you join him and riddle, his closet friend for tea? he thinks you guys would get alone well!

need a lab partner? you’re both already in the same club so you’ll be able to do the project in the club! look how smart you are!!

you’re tired?? you can stay over with ace and deuce tonight at heartslabyul. don’t worry riddle approves since they both know you wouldn’t do anything to harm the first years rule following. but let trey bring you to his bathroom! you don’t wanna be in a bathroom brushing your teeth with a bunch of hooligans do you? trey didn’t think so. so don’t be shy when you’re following him around like a puppy, or do! it’s adorable and trey’s trying not to melt.

just,,,, HHHHH trey subtly trying to thread yourself into his life to the point you both have a routine together. to the point where it looks like you’re dating, but don’t worry!! he only sees you as a friend…

so ignore the ghost hands on the small of your back, so ignore how during a lunch rush he’ll press up against you- to shield you ofc! ignore how he always seems to intrude on your space when you’re sitting together. definitely ignore the secret touches you exchange when passing each other things.

or don’t!! cause trey would be putting in allll that hardddd work for nothing 🥺

…dot you’ve ruined me.

#me realizing i have readers *stands up* *looks around frantically*#dot what have you done to me.#oh god i can’t stop thinking about yandere trey #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#tiyoin 🔎#twisted wonderland #twst #dotty‼️🫶#yandere trey clover #yandere trey x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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blood-sucking-freaks · 1 year

Text

Texas Chainsaw Massacre Facts

TCM is one of my favorite movies so here's some facts :)

-Bubba's real name is not known. Neither is Nubbins. But, at one point Drayton calls Bubba 'Junior', so we know he's either named after Grandpa Sawyer or their late/absentee father, though as neither are named, Bubba's name was never revealed.

-Gunnar Hansen wanted Bubba to be able to speak broken sentences, but the idea was shut down by Tobe Hooper

-Was originally supposed to be titles 'Head Cheese'. The title was later changed to 'Leatherface'. A week before filming was supposed to begin the title was finally changed to 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre'.

-The dinner scene was shot in one day. It took 27 hours. It was so hot that the meat was rotting, so between the heat and the smell, cast and crew members were running out of the house every few minutes to throw up. It was filmed in one day because John Dugan, Grandpa Sawyer's actor, refused to sit through the 10 hour makeup process more than once, so all of the scenes with Grandpa had to be filmed at once.

-Most cast and crew, especially Gunnar, didn't like Paul Partain, Franklin's actor, as he stayed in character during the entire process of filming. When the two met again after filming and Gunnar realized that Paul was simply method acting they became close friends up until Paul's death.

-Gunnar was avoided by most people during filming. The cast of Bubba's victims avoided him because they didn't want to be around their killer. Gunnar wasn't allowed to take off his wool costume, so the heavy clothing and the Texan summer heat resulted in him being very smelly.

-Marilyn Burns was really cut during the scene where Grandpa drinks Sally's blood. After multiple takes of the scene, Gunnar got annoyed and secretly took the protective tape off the knife being used and actually cut her to get a more authentic reaction.

-The chainsaw was real and almost hurt several cast and crew members, Gunnar included.

-The armadillo in the beginning of the movie was taxidermized by Tobe Hooper.

-During the time of filming, the 'Sawyer house' was owned and lived in by a family, so the production was only allowed to rent the right section of the house.

-The house is now relocated and restored, and used as a restaurant called the Grand Central Cafe.

-The bones and meat were real, as it was cheaper to rent real human bones and use actual dead animals than to make fake ones.

-Makeup artist Dottie Pearl accidentally injected herself with formaldehyde during the preparations of the dead animals.

-Tobe Hooper got the initial idea for the movie while he was Christmas shopping in the hardware section of a crowded store, when he saw a chainsaw display while thinking of a way to get out of the crowd.

-Edwin Neal, Nubbin's actor, is a Vietnam veteran. When asked how hard filming the movie was, he said that he's rather go back to Vietnam than reshoot the movie. He also said that if he ever saw Tobe Hooper again he might kill him.

-The film was shot mostly in chronological order.

-The last shot filmed was Bubba cutting his leg. Gunnar wore a metal plate over his leg and a piece of meat and a blood bag was placed on top.

-Gunnar's costume had one dyed shirt, so it couldn't be washed during the entire time filming.

-The movie took four weeks of filming every day, though it was only supposed to take two weeks.

-The victim's van belonged to one of the sound recordists, Ted Nicolaou.

-Bubba's teeth were special prosthetics made by Gunnar's dentist.

-At 6'4, Gunnar got multiple slight head injuries due to doorways and other objects. The Leatherface mask limited his peripheral vision severely. Even at his height, he had to wear three inch heels (which makes Bubba canonically 6'7).

-By the last day's shoot, Marilyn Burns' costume was so drenched in blood that it was practically solid. While most of the blood is fake, a lot of it was real, as she got badly cut on branches and undergrowth during the scene where Bubba chases Sally to the gas station,

-During the last night of shooting, the cast got high on pot brownies brought by Dottie Pearl. The brownies had to be hidden when Tobe Hooper's mother visited the set.

-Nubbin's death scene was shot in reverse.

-The narrator for the intro was payed in weed.

-During the scene where Bubba and Nubbins bring Grandpa downstairs, Gunnar kept pushing the rocking chair forwards, sending John falling into Edwin, which left neither party very happy. Gunnar kept doing this until John leaned into his ear and whispered threats.

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