#STEALING HUMANE VAN

[shortfeet]

GTA V Best Photos of Jewel Store Job Smart way mission😂

[rosetyler42]

Some fun playing off the idea of Ericka stealing Drac's cape and him chasing her for it after she refused to give it back. ("Sorry, Snuggle-bat. It's mine now.") Kind of a fun play on the usual monster-human chase.

From @lovelylivelyv

"I love this! Ericka looks so good in that outfit! And it’s giving me “flying table scene” vibes"

And Me:

"I came up with it for the "I didn't realize how warm humans were" cuddling pics a while back and it's kind of stuck since it's a good casual outfit and both fits Ericka's 30s and Sailor aesthetics. Not to mention it kinda syncs up with Simon later on.

I didn't think of that but you're RIGHT! It kind of makes sense though. Not only from just a "dracula playfully chasing a human around" aspect but also...Both Drac and Ericka are normally two of the most conscientious and hard working people you'd ever meet. Even though Ericka isn't as uptight as Drac can be, they're often the mature leaders of the group...EXCEPT when you get the two of them alone together, in which case they start playing with eachother like a couple of dorky children. Normally started by Ericka somehow. XD As Fae has said, they help the other relax and have fun, bringing out the other's more playful side. There's also alot of similarities between Ericka and Johnny personality-wise. She's not as reckless as he can be, but she's impulsive and playful and got a bit of an adventurous thrill-seeker streak that wants to try almost everything."

@black-ak9 @serial-serializednovelreader @hotelt-resurrection @deathfangirl9 @heartsong1994 @kittyball23 @wingingfromthezing @ebevkisk

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or

"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.

~~~~~

 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”

Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.

There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.

“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”

“I live somewhere ne...here.”

Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.

However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.

“I mean, what are you doing outside?”

Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.

The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.

“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”

“To do what?”

“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”

“You're new to this, aren't you?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Pretty noticeable, yes.”

The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.

That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.

And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.

Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.

“Stop it. What do you want?”

“I study. You seem experienced. “

“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”

“Really?”

Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.

“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”

“Okay.”

Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.

“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”

“Maybe. Is this a deal?”

“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “

Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.

“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”

Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.

He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.

They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.

A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.

“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”

“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.

Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.

Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.

It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.

“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”

“Jason.”

Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.

“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”

“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”

“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”

Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?

“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.

“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."

“Good. I'll remember.”

The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”

“That's right, buddy.”

“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”

“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “

“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.

On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.

Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.

When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.

A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.

Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.

No.

It helped.

And then he died.

And things are getting worse by the day, hah.

~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~

Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.

Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.

“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”

A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.

“Man, is it you?”

Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.

“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”

“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”

John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?

“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”

The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.

“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.

“No.”

“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”

Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.

Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.

“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”

“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”

“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”

Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?

“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”

The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.

“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”

“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”

“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.

"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."

“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.

“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”

“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”

“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.

"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"

The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.

Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…

“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”

“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.

“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?

"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."

“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”

Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.

Come with me now to see my world

Where there's beauty beyond your dreams

Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins

[goopycloudeyes]

Finally getting back into my OCs 💖

[revelboo]

any chance i could beg for some Ironhide scraps? 👉👈🥺

Hold Me Down

IDW Ironhide x Reader

• Sun baking him, he sinks lower on his shocks, nearly drowsing and tired. Around him the small city hums with life, though the humans never were that interesting to him. And there’s the infestation of them in the Ark now, too. He understands Optimus’s worry, but it’s unsettling seeing the little things. What if one gets loose and gets under ped? Such fragile things have no place among them.

• Moving along the street, you shove your hands in your pockets and people watch. There’s a trick to stealing from people, of keeping your touch featherlight as you bump into them or stumble and catch at them to keep from falling. Smiling like there’s not a thought in your head as you apologize. Never running after. Keeping that clueless smile in place until you round a corner. Easy as breathing. A few wallets aren’t going to cut it, though. You’re looking for something bigger as you round a corner. And catch a glimpse of a red van parked on a backstreet. Anyone parking way back there is just asking for trouble. For a life lesson.

• A little hand tugging on his door handle and there’s no time to lock it before his driver’s side door is open and there’s a human slipping behind the wheel, warm in his interior. Little hands flipping down his sun visor, opening his center console, digging in his glovebox, then rooting around under his seat. Touching everything. Wanting to snarl at you to get out, but unable to do it and blow his cover. None of the little organics had ever tried this, though. Little tongue between your teeth, you start feeling around under his steering column, soft fingers brushing wires and he almost groans. What are you doing? Seeing you pull a pair of wire cutters out of a pocket, he swallows a growl, because absolutely not.

• Before you can try to figure out how to hot wire the van, its engine rumbles to life and you freeze. Nick had only showed you how to do it once, but you’re positive you didn’t do anything but fumble around. Maybe this thing has an electrical short? You’re not about to look a gift house in the mouth, though. “You’re coming home with me, honey.” You mumble, putting the van into gear.

• That so, human? Letting you have control, he monitors as you steer him out into the street. You’re a bold little thing, trying to steal him in broad daylight. He almost laughs out loud as you turn down another road. Sobering when he spots the sketchy mechanic shop you’re headed for. Whatever you’re planning, he’s not interested. Taking over, he keeps going past the place, feeling you stomp on the brake and haul at the wheel. Getting angry then scared. “Change of plans, darlin.’” Locking you in when you try to bail out the door, because now he is laughing. You think you’re a little delinquent? Hardly, he’s about to scare you so badly you’ll never steal again.

Next

[cece693]

Kiss, Marry, Kill

pairing: jasper hale x male reader tags: human reader, jasper being hurt over small things, Emmett being his joking self, party games, crack fic?

Streamers of gold and cream swirled from the high ceiling of the Cullens’ mansion, and the soft glow of fairy lights made everything look like a magical dreamland—well, at least to your human friends, who couldn’t stop gawking at the place. For you, it was home away from home. After all, you spent so much time here with Jasper that the polished floors and glittering chandeliers had become more familiar than your own dorm room.

Still, tonight felt different. It was your birthday—the last you’d celebrate with a beating heart. Next year, you’d be fully immortal, forever attached to Jasper’s side. But first, you had a party to survive.

You had just finished eating a perfect slice of birthday cake (courtesy of Esme’s unwavering drive to make it tasty for even someone who despised cake) when Jessica's voice boomed across the music:

“Birthday boy! Get over here! We need you!”

Her tone made you freeze. You recognized that brand of enthusiasm. It usually meant trouble or embarrassing party games. With a resigned sigh, you left the comfort of the food table and found Jessica huddled in the living room with Angela, Mike, and a handful of other curious onlookers.

“We’re playing Kiss, Marry, Kill,” Jessica announced, flipping her hair as if she was unveiling some grand plan. “And you’re up first!”

Your stomach sank like a stone in a lake. An array of wide, excited eyes turned your way, including Mike’s—who offered a sheepish wave. You prayed to whatever powers exist that Jasper wasn’t within earshot. “C’mon, Jess,” you said, forcing a laugh. “Don’t you think I’m too old for this?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re twenty-one, not eighty-one! Besides, Emmett is all fired up just hearing about it.”

You heard a low chuckle from across the room. Emmett, leaning casually by the DVD shelf, flexed his biceps with a wink. Rosalie smacked his arm in mock annoyance. Great—there went your hopes of keeping this discreet.

“Alright, fine,” you relented, your cheeks heating. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jessica cleared her throat dramatically and raised a tiny notebook where she’d jotted down names. “So, Kiss, Marry, Kill…” She paused, letting the suspense build. “Mike, Emmett, and Tyler!”

You snorted. Of course she’d drag Emmett in. And Tyler? The guy who you briefly had a fling with before getting with Jasper? Oh boy, now you desperately hoped Jasper wasn't even in the house.

“Okay,” you began slowly. “Let me, uh…weigh my options…”

Immediately you thought of killing Tyler. No way would you announce you'll hypothetically kiss or marry him, it was tough enough to break your friends-with-benefits relationship. You didn't want to give him false hope when that ship has sailed. Mike was potentially clingy, might send you heart-shaped candies on Valentine’s Day with bad puns, but he was overall harmless. And Emmett, there would never be a boring day in your life, it was Rosalie you were worried about. She'll definitely kill you if you even dared to steal him away.

As these thoughts zipped through your mind, you realized the circle of friends was waiting with bated breath. “Alright,” you said, “if I have to choose, I'll kiss Mike…”you said, pointing lamely in his direction.

You heard him choke on a soft, “Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you glanced at Emmett, who was now wagging his eyebrows. "I'll marry Emmett. He’s entertaining, funny, strong, and got a great sense of humor..." you rattled off, trying not to laugh as Emmett bounced in his spot like a child. “You hear that, Rosie? I’m marriage material!” Rosalie simply rolled her eyes.

"And I'll kill Tyler. No offense man, but you did almost take out Bella with that van years ago, so maybe it's karmic justice. Rest in peace.”

While your friends erupted into laughter, especially at the idea of your 'marriage' with Emmett, you maneuvered your way through the crowd, itching to find Jasper. While it was merely a game, you knew it would rub your cowboy the wrong way to hear you'll marry his brother. Looking everywhere for him—his room, the kitchen, the living room, hell, even the bathroom—you had just returned to the kitchen where Edward suddenly flashed in front of you.

“Jeez, Edward!” you exclaimed, pressing a hand to your chest. “I'm still human, remember?"

He just shrugged with a knowing smile. “He’s in Carlisle’s study. I’d go talk to him if I were you.”

His expression told you everything you needed to know—Jasper was not in a good mood. With a nod, you headed toward the study, ducking under a few gold streamers.

You found Jasper sitting at Carlisle’s desk, arms folded, staring intently at the wall. His blond hair fell into his face, casting shadows across his darkening eyes. The moment you stepped in, he flicked his eyes up, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to see you or avoid you.

“Jazz?” you said softly, closing the door behind you. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

His expression darkened as he let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I heard everything. You’re apparently planning to marry Emmett now.” Though the jealousy stung your heart, his wording was so ridiculous you almost snorted. But one look at his face told you laughter would not help.

“It was a joke, Jazz. You know that.”

His Southern drawl grew sharper. “A joke, sure, but it sounded pretty convincing. You did have reasons lined up for why Emmett would be such a great husband.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious right now?”

He held your gaze, frustration and hurt swirling in those golden irises. “If you wanna go marry him, go ahead,” he said bitterly. “It’s your birthday; maybe that’ll be my gift to you—freedom from me.” You took a breath, forcing yourself not to snap back. He was centuries old, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally having the emotional meltdown of a teenager.

“Jasper, you know I love you,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “The only reason I said I’d marry Emmett is because Tyler and Mike are the other two options. And I definitely wasn’t going to marry them.”

He ran a hand through his honey-blond hair, exasperation evident. “Still. Hearing you talk about Emmett like that…it wasn’t pleasant.”

“I’m sorry, but in the game, someone had to be Marry. And I—”

A loud creak announced a third party: Emmett barged in, wearing the dopiest grin. “Hey, fiancé!” he crowed, waggling his eyebrows.

Jasper’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Emmett, I’m really not in the mood.”

Emmett tossed his hands up. “Okay, big guy, cool it. I just wanted to see if the wedding was still on or if I should start ripping up the invitations.”

You blushed furiously. “Emmett, get out!”

He laughed but obeyed, tossing a mock salute as he backed out, calling down the hallway, “Hey, Rosalie, we’re canceled… I mean, no, I’m not actually…It was a joke—don’t give me that look!”

When Emmett finally left, the door clicked shut, leaving you and Jasper alone again. You watched him quietly for a moment, noticing how his shoulders slumped with residual tension. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, stepping closer. “You mean everything to me—this game was Jessica’s silly idea, and I just got roped in. I swear, I never would’ve said it if I knew it’d hurt you.”

His jaw worked, and you could see he was trying to contain the waves of jealousy. You placed a tentative hand on his arm.

“I chose Emmett mostly for comedic effect, okay? Mike is…Mike, and I have history with Tyler. If I’d said I’d marry him, I’d be sleeping with one eye open. Emmett was the lesser evil.”

A flicker of amusement ghosted across his face—very brief. “So, you really don’t wish you had a ring from Emmett?”

You nearly laughed. “God, no. I’m sure Rosalie would kill me if I tried. And I only want your ring, anyway.”

He exhaled, some of the tension leaving his posture. Carefully, you slid your arms around his waist, feeling his cool body against yours. “You’re the one I want,” you insisted. “Always. Soon, we’ll be bonded forever—vampire to vampire. That’s bigger than a wedding.”

His eyes softened, and you could tell he was tuning into your sincerity—possibly even reading the waves of guilt and affection roiling off you. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. “I just…don’t like the idea of sharing you.”

The door swung open again, this time revealing Alice, Bella, and Edward peeking inside—like a cluster of meddling siblings. “Are we good here?” Alice asked, twirling a piece of confetti between her fingers. “Because the party’s over, and I’m thinking of scheduling a no-more-dumb-games vow for the next birthday.”

Bella attempted a sympathetic smile. “We tried telling Jessica that it might not be the best idea.”

“Also, Emmett’s writing up a wedding registry,” Edward piped in, wry amusement in his tone. “You might want to stop him before he goes too far.”

Jasper let out a disgruntled sigh, rising from his seat. “I’ll put a stop to that.” You followed him out, hand in hand. The tension of the evening lingered in the air, but the weight was lifting, replaced by relief and some lingering embarrassment.

Back in the foyer, Emmett was dramatically dictating a registry list to Rosalie, who stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Definitely want a waffle iron, and maybe a lifetime supply of hair gel for the big day—”

Jasper cleared his throat, and Emmett turned to see the two of you standing there. “Aww, the happy couple!” he teased, pressing his hands together.

“Emmett, enough,” Jasper hissed, though you could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and swatted Emmett with a leftover balloon. “You’re impossible.”

You let out a chuckle and caught Jasper’s eye. The corners of his lips lifted in a soft smile—an olive branch of sorts.

Alice, never one to miss a cue, fluttered over. “Now that the crisis is averted, how about we officially call it a night? There’s more cake on the table if you want it, but I doubt you do,” she teased, knowing full well none of the Cullens would partake.

“I might,” you joked. “Still human, remember?”

Jasper slid an arm around your waist, leaning down to press a cool kiss to your temple. “You might be human now,” he whispered, “but soon enough, we’ll have our forever.”

You smiled, heart full and light. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[kigieri]

Resting Stars

Max Verstappen × Reader

What happens when you've reached your dreams and goals? Max Verstappen has just won his fourth world title, and before he has to race again, he shares a few moments with the most important person in his life.

A/N: Surprise fic! I had to post something for our man! Four-time World Driver's Champion! This was written very sleepily during the race, and I'm very happy with it. I hope you enjoy it.

This fic on AO3!

The flat was silent. She trotted into the kitchen after doing her morning routine in the bathroom. Max was already sitting at the table, drinking coffee from his favourite mug. He smiled when he saw her and she returned it.

His face was more contemplative than that of a fresh four time world champion should be. She made herself a tea, before sitting opposite him. "Are you still sure?" He looked at her and nodded. "Yeah, I want to do something else." She nodded too and took as sip from her mug. "Then it seems decided."

They shared a quiet breakfast before slumping down on the sofa. Their sleeping rhythm had been destroyed by Las Vegas, especially after the party they had had. Max had another race on the next weekend and there were still celebrations to be had and congratulations to be accepted, but for now they simply wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Are we going to get more cats?" She looked up at him from where she had laid her head in his lap. He shook his head. "I'm still going to race, just not F1." He looked over at the patch of sun where Donatello was laying. "When I'm old and gray and don't leave the house any more we can get more."

Silence settled over them once more, Jimmy jumped onto her stomach and rolled up, waiting for her to pat him, which she did. "It's going to be weird. Way weirder for you than for me."

He nodded his head. "Yeah, but I'm going to like it. Doing something else will be good." She looked back up at him from where her eyes had been focused on the cat. "You're going to miss it, even if you don't want to admit it."

He made a questioning face. "Won't deny that I'll miss it, but I'm going to enjoy doing something else, and I can always go back. Someone's bound to take me. But I don't think I will. I'll just enjoy life, racing, being with you, with the cats. Not a care in the world." She cuddled closer to him, if that was humanely possible, and let her eyes drift back to Jimmy.

Max looked down at her, thinking about the ring box that was securely hidden away between his Sim gear. Life would be very different, but he was more than happy with that. His time had come and gone, not in the eyes of others, but in his own. He had loved racing in F1 with his whole heart, but that heart beat for racing, not only in a single category, so he wanted to see more of the world, more of racing. There was so much to be explored, and he had reached his goals in Formula 1.

His retirement would surprise some, but not others. He would be happy with it, had made peace with it before he had voiced the idea for the first time. At this moment, while sitting with her head in his lap, looking out of the window into Monaco, he knew that this decision would change his life, but he also knew it would be a change he welcomed.

"Ik hou van je." His words were clear and steady and as she looked up at him her smile spread all over her face and her eyes were shinning. "I love you too." Max hand wandered over to hers, where she was stroking Jimmy, and squeezed it shortly, before also starting to stroke the cat. It would be a new, and very welcomed, part of his life.

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[vickyvicarious]

"He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all."

May 16

"He is so young and strong and of blood so pure that we need not defibrinate it."

September 8

Thinking about this echo, and the way Lucy and the suitors + Van Helsing provide a kind of opposing force to Jonathan and the vampire ladies + Dracula.

In both cases, we have the young, appealing innocent who is soon to be married and has entered a new phase of their life (Jonathan/Lucy). Both have an older foreign man become very interested in them and very fond of them in their own way (Dracula/Van Helsing). Both have three 'admirers' who want to 'love' them (vampire ladies/suitor squad).

Of course, noting this is nothing new. Plenty of people (and I myself) have pointed out these and other parallels between all these individuals. But I want to go a little farther with it today.

A vampire's 'love' is one of corruption and consumption. Jonathan was held captive in Dracula's castle, and forced against his will to adopt a largely nocturnal schedule*; he had to adapt in this and many other ways to his captor's way of life. The vampires had him in their control from the start, and he had to behave in certain ways to please Dracula lest he suffer consequences of his displeasure. Dracula was extremely possessive of Jonathan, right up until he wasn't going to be around anymore, and then he was happy to throw him aside for the others to devour. Despite this 'sharing', he and the vampire women are at odds and dismissive of one another (he spends most of his time shooing them away from Jonathan, they scoff at and mock him), and whatever love may have been there in the past is clearly long gone.

Human love is one of dedication and trust. The suitors (and later Van Helsing) all come to Lucy. Both initially, in visiting her to make their proposals at her house, and then later on coming to her home when she is ill; they come to her side when she is in need, and they drop what they're doing to adapt to her. When Lucy has to turn two suitors down, she feels awful about not being able to please them all, but each of them emphasizes that they don't hold it against her at all, and they will remain devoted to her friendship. None of them are possessive of her. (Admittedly, Van Helsing does somewhat frequently work to keep Lucy's loved ones apart from her, ushering Arthur away or drugging her to sleep when he's there; but he also invites them to come and help her with their transfusions.) Arthur, the one she has chosen at the exclusion of the other suitors, is notable for being especially welcoming to the others. It is on his behest that both Jack and Quincey arrive to help Lucy in the first place, and he is extremely grateful for and welcoming of their efforts in that vein (pardon the pun):

"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must have or die. My friend John and I have consulted; and we are about to perform what we call transfusion of blood—to transfer from full veins of one to the empty veins which pine for him. John was to give his blood, as he is the more young and strong than me"—here Arthur took my hand and wrung it hard in silence—"but, now you are here, you are more good than us, old or young, who toil much in the world of thought. Our nerves are not so calm and our blood not so bright than yours!"

And this quote brings me to the next detail I find so interesting. In order to finally escape alive, Jonathan turns many of Dracula's tricks against him. Just to name a few, he does things such as: wall-climbing, sneaking around while Dracula is asleep, stealing Dracula's belongings. There are a lot of reversals between them in the last few days, both in Jonathan's explorations and his attack on Dracula. He's 'fighting fire with fire', so to speak, and it works to get him out of the castle. Later on, we see even more of this when he is hunting Dracula down near the end of the book.

He's far from the only person to do such a thing. Dracula himself is very deliberately doing this sort of thing throughout much of the book, from imitating Jonathan in the Castle to innovating ways to work around old vampiric limitations. And Mina is of course a whole example on her own of weaponizing the enemy's own tools against him. But so is this Van Helsing + suitor squad group in a really interesting way. Even Lucy herself, though due to circumstances, she's not the most intentional/active participant in doing so. Let's look back at that quote above again. Van Helsing says that Lucy "wants blood, and blood she must have" - in order to stop her from becoming a supernatural vampire, instead they willingly perform a sort of medical vampirisim. Here we once again see the contrast between modernity and the supernatural, and interestingly, how they overlap to cross purposes.

Dracula takes Lucy's blood away. Van Helsing (by proxy at first) gives it back. Dracula wants Lucy to become a vampire, and drink the blood of those around her. Van Helsing, in giving her transfusions, enables her to drink in their blood in order to prevent her from becoming a vampire. The three vampire women wanting to gang up on Jonathan and drain him of his strength. The three suitors join together to take turns sacrificing their own strength in order to supply Lucy with more when she's in need of it.

Dracula wants her to take, just as he and the vampire women do. In fact, almost everything he does to turn her involves depriving her of things: restful sleep, blood, eventually her mother. But in her friends, Lucy is surrounded by people who love her and give freely, and this saves her (at least temporarily). They all work together and love one another in a way deeply at odds with Dracula and other vampires' form of consumptive 'love'.

And so their vampiric actions of transferring blood between bodies are life-saving instead of life-taking. Jack and Van Helsing even remember a version which is all the more a mimic of vampiric body language and leans way into the vampire-as-disease metaphor, with the reference to the time Jack sucked "from [Van Helsing's] wound so swiftly the poison of the gangrene" - it's got the mouth on skin, the sucking, but it's taking away illness rather than infecting someone. It also fosters a long-standing dedication and love, which in turn lends itself to the saving of someone else. This too ties in to the way vampiric love isolates, while human love connects.

* Lucy, meanwhile, in fighting against her terrible dreams, often attempts to be awake at night and is unable to do so. A more nocturnal schedule would make her safer, since her sleeping state is where Dracula has the most influence over her.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

LEATHERFACE | BUBBA SAWYER (TTCM & TTCM P2 | TCM: Next Generation a little)

—

Being in a relationship w/ Leatherface (and coexisting w/ the Sawyer Family) (Bubba Sawyer | Leatherface x Fem!Reader)

Headcanons

NSFW-ish, mature themes, canon typical violence & gore, murder, normalized violence, (TW: Cannibalism, human-skin leather), sawyer family appearances, brief mentions of sex, slasher shit -soft!girly!reader & kind of callous!reader

Pic source: beg./middle•The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) & end•The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2

Happy 3 days till Halloween!!! 🎃

The only reason you had been spared was because of how earnestly you’d taken to them. You’d been hitchhiking too when Nubbins asked to ride with the crew you were with. But keeping to yourself in the farthest corner of the van you’d looked so alert that Nubbins had kept his taunting for the others and stayed clear of bothering with you entirely in case the aura you were immitting — despite your pretty dust riddled clothes — wasn’t just his imagination.

Still though when Nubbins starts to show off his polaroids to bring the group's guards down you pay the most attention, even complimenting some of his more atmospheric shots before tucking back into yourself.

Nubbins is so shocked he just asks to be let out afterwards, not even having cut himself or properly antagonized anyone the way he’d perfected over the last couple of months.

Really it’s the others’ insistence on poking around after Nubbins had told them a “ghost story” about cannibals in the dust storms that gets them murdered. Nubbins hadn’t wanted to deal with you (at least not without Bubba), and had lowkey been flattered by your compliments, so he’d let you guys go.

When you make it a point to just be on your way after the Sawyer’s latest grocery delivery starts trespassing all over their private land, and run into Drayton and Bubba coming back from a trip out of town, the conversation the older man starts up with you isn’t even laden with ulterior motive.

Bubba is immediately smitten by the flash of a smile you give him when you catch sight of him unmasked before he has a chance to duck from where he’s sitting in the truck bed. And how you don’t recoil and hardly bat a lash at him after he hastily ties on his mask has him ready to argue with his older brother about inviting you to dinner and not letting you go before Drayton’s even halfway through talking with you.

He doesn’t need to do much convincing however because Drayton’s already got his hat off like the southern gentlemen he isn’t, and you’ve got your head tilted as you listen to him, guarded gaze growing softer the longer you keep catching Bubba stealing glances at you.

You’re honest though, and the pseudo patriarch likes that. Coupled with the fact he keeps applying “manners” to what’s really just your soft spoken bluntness, and he’s convinced you’re exactly the womanly presence the family needs before the day’s done.

You’re aimless and/or disowned anyway so you take Drayton up on his invite back to the house and the rest is pretty cut and dry (this is pre the first movie). You don’t participate in the deaths of your past companions, but you're introduced up close and personal to the reality of the Sawyers pretty quickly.

When “Leatherface” comes out and that chainsaw revs up you’ve got front row seats to the blunt chains tearing through flesh and cracking open bone and are covered in enough blood by the time the group of idiots you’d been traveling with are all killed with extreme prejudice to feel damn near baptized in it.

Enough blood to drive Bubba crazy and have him being mercilessly teased by Nubbins over the chub he’s sporting in his trousers.

For your part, you just go with everything (at first) so you won’t end up next. And you’re lonely enough that it doesn’t take long before you're not faking it, whether you want to believe it or not.

News Flash: You’re not very motherly at all, but by the time you’ve kindly handed Drayton his ass over whatever “woman’s work” he’d tried to give you for the last time it’s too late for him to take back his endorsements.

Bubba would kill his ass for one, and being so busy bothering you was actually slowing down all those episodes Chop Top always pretended not to have because of the war. So you stay, but Drayton thinks you’re one helluva con artist and you just tell him that it takes one to know one even though you never once sold him a lie.

You simply refuse to be “mammyfied” and that’s that.

Bubba is in love with your wardrobe almost as much as he is with you.

The first time he comes requesting you do one of your makeup looks — something more 70’s glamor for his tastes, even if it’s not a style you’d usually do — on a carefully carved out face mask, though, you pause.

It’s nearly a make or break aspect in your relationship, but if you accept this part of him (really accept it, enough to participate) then there’s no going back. No lying to yourself about just being a hostage or only acting out of duress every time you didn’t try running away or scream out to any of the Sawyer family’s victims before they were slaughtered.

When you do help out with the makeup for his mask Bubba sticks to you like glue the entire time. Part of it is just him liking to watch you work — and him wanting to study your process to (somewhat clumsily at first) recreate on his own later. The rest of the reason is that he’s so used to having his things messed with that he’s keeping an eye on you just in case, no matter how unlikely it is you’d steal from him or destroy his mask just to fuck with him.

It’s just— there was the drought, then the layoffs, then starvation, and his only family either died or got meaner. Bubba is destined to get defensive with you too sometimes, it’s not personal.

With trespassers it’s kind of personal though — refer back to the first couple bullet points.

If anyone on the goddamn planet is going to piss you off to no end it’s going to be Chop Top. Where Nubbins will accidentally mistake one of your scarves or washcloths for an oil rag, his twin will fuck your shit up or steal it completely on purpose.

Alternatively, every time Nubbins breaks or dirties something of yours without realizing he’s dismissive as hell about telling you it happened because he hates admitting he made a mistake, but he will try to give you a replacement taken off a victim or that he’s made in his version of an apology.

With Chop Top, though, you’ll see him wearing your shit one day and be too disgusted by whatever he’s done with it to want it back. And if it’d lead to anything good you’d strangle him again for his bullshit, but the last time you’d gone at one another’s throats you’d triggered him to the point of screaming nonsense while he held a knife to your throat and Bubba ended up breaking a table after throwing him into it while you recuperated on the ground.

So yeah, you don’t put your hands on each other anymore, but you definitely still cuss one another out on a regular basis.

The welts the edge of the blade left against the brown skin of your throat sent Bubba into so much distress that you vowed to stop trying to fight Chop Top just to never see that reaction from your partner again.

Bubba is the main cook in the house (the only other person who regularly touches the kitchen being the oldest of his brothers), and he is by no means bad at it outside of his tendency to get heavy-handed with his seasonings whenever he’s got some. However, you will not eat anything with meat in it from him (so long as you do eat meat) unless you watched an animal being put in there.

He finds this stipulation incredibly insulting at first, but you refuse to not draw the line there.

You paint flowers onto his kitchen apron to make up for his hurt and he forgives you pretty easily after though.

You have to make a hard distinction between what of your makeup he can use on his masks and what makeup he can or cannot share between you both that’s strictly for your own bare faces. The first time he’d asked to use some of your blush and you’d found him powdering a dead woman’s face you’d just about passed away yourself, and thus the rules swiftly followed.

Bubba always praises you whenever you get dolled up – in whatever way he sees fit: kissing your cheeks or the back of your hands, picking you flowers, twirling you around, clapping for you – but let any of his brothers make one comment on how pretty you look and he’s arguing with them.

At first Drayton cannot stand the scent of the flowers you or Bubba start bringing into the house and/or the perfume that you wear, but that’s only until he realizes how much better the scents were at making people stop at the shop. Add to that the lavender you planted keeping way more flies away and Drayton was convinced you were some kind of good luck charm. He’ll allow you this one win specifically despite how much he bitched about the smell beforehand (and the fact that he still thinks you’re one of the best liars he’s ever met).

The first time you help any of the Sawyers prep a dead animal they’re all surprised, but really you can only roll your eyes. Regardless of if you came with knowledge on how to properly kill and prep an animal to be eaten, or you diligently asked Bubba or Drayton to teach you, your appearance didn’t have shit to do with your actual ability to learn or have certain skills.

Drayton shockingly muttering that he thought you were just a delicate flower after you turn to him with a handful of guts in your hand is funny though.

Well, funny until Chop Top grabs the fist full of guts in your hand and motorboats them. You suck your teeth so hard as you watch him act a fool, eyes rolling, that Bubba stops cleaving to cast you a concerned look.

You’re either going to become a hardcore vegan or vegetarian or you're not, alright? I don’t make the rules of the universe. Outside of literal cannibalism most of the only other meat available is going to be the rare hunted animal or fresh-enough roadkill. Times are tough, but Drayton does want to start a garden now.

The only functioning fan in the whole house is in the room you share with Bubba (this doesn’t have anything to do with liking girly shit, you just refuse to be so hot all the time).

Instead of struggling with it for half an hour every time he’s in a more feminine headspace Bubba comes to you to tie on the silver bell bracelet he wears; you kiss his wrist whenever you’re finished.

Whenever you paint your nails you make sure to paint his too. You kiss each one of his fingers when you’re done, and he does the same to you while hard as a fucking rock and seconds away from begging to fuck you.

There isn’t a chance you’re ever going to try Drayton’s chili, no matter how fucking butt hurt he gets.

Whenever you cry, Bubba cries too.

Bubba definitely appreciates you helping him out. Whether being his assistant while he’s butchering or bringing him something to eat or just keeping him company so he doesn’t feel left out. Since it’s the kind of attention he for sure never gets from his brothers he cherishes it from you.

He will do nothing but stare at you if you sit down to do your makeup or otherwise get dolled up in any way, he can’t help himself. If you ask him to hand you something he’ll do it like he’s in a trance, he just likes seeing you come together like that and will be in awe. Blow him a kiss, he’ll blush.

Introduce him to ascots, I think he’d like them.

Whenever you wear your only pair of heels and your daisy dukes Bubba can’t keep his eyes off you, eyes glued to your black ass like it’s the second coming. You can’t help but tease him with the sway of your hips, it’s just too easy to coax those cute blushing looks out of him.

It’s only fair. The sight of him in his swim shorts always makes you go a little boy crazy too.

The “grandma” mask throws you off more than his others, especially considering he doesn’t wear it when he’s around you very often. He wears it when he’s cooking or doing more mundane house work (usually to contend himself with having to slip into the more “traditionally feminine” role his brothers refuse to), and if he’s not in his kitchen apron he wears an antique house dress that really makes him look like a little old lady from afar. You just watch him do it and keep him company. Whenever you try to help it kind of depends on his mood if he’ll let you. You’ll need to ask him where he wants you, don’t just guess.

Bubba teaches you how to whittle bones. He also most definitely gifts you some of the jewelry he makes out of his victim’s bones/teeth or gifts you stolen jewelry (and other things he thinks you might like) from the people he kills.

Bubba is chief decorator of the house mostly of his own accord. He wittles, strings things up, and builds all kinds of furniture out of bones and feathers and other miscellaneous things he finds that he thinks are pretty and is so calm while doing it you just sit down and watch him work with a little smile on your face.

He will 100% braid your hair (and is a quick study when you want it done a specific way) with yarn — which is easier to get than braiding hair where you are, or delicately twist decorative feathers and charms into your cornrows.

He massages oil into your scalp too and you always fall asleep with your head in his lap.

He does a lot of yard work also, so if you’re dedicated to spending a lot of time with him you will be outside often. He’s perfectly content with just having your company and your assistance here and there, but if you want to do more he won’t stop you outside of the really big jobs he has to do.

Sometimes you just dress up cutely in your overalls and boots and sit around looking pretty and soaking sun into your already sun-kissed skin for the whole day and he loves that about as much as you being his assistant. (You have sunscreen, it’s fine.)

Oftentimes you knit or sew (if you know how), but most often you’re reading a book or entertaining Bubba with anecdotes from one of the week's newspapers.

Bubba’s ass is strong. He can and will pick you up, and watching him swing a hammer borders on…overwhelming.

His clothes are the only ones you mend or help wash at all. You’re not a maid, but he respects your time and doesn’t demand it so you help him out because he’s your partner and you choose to. Also, blood stains are a bitch to get out (even when you leave them in the sun to “bleach” after washing) and Bubba gets covered in blood the most for the family so you’re not just going to leave him hanging.

“Leatherface” is lowkey a moniker that was created to taunt Bubba. The twins gave him the nickname after he started wearing his masks and it kind of stuck with everyone. You don’t use it just based off how Chop Top and Them tend to throw it in Bubba’s face whenever they’re irritated with him, but you will use the ambiguity of the moniker when talking about your chainsaw wielding partner to any trespassers and/or victims just to get them extra apprehensive.

When you got to the point where seeing him covered in blood started turning you on you spiraled a bit for sure. You kind of just embrace how aroused it makes you now though, and Bubba gets endlessly flattered.

You still wouldn’t have him any other way, really. Or the rest of his fucked up, irritating family. Even Grandpa (though you do still avoid him like the plague even when you're helping Bubba care for and feed him).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!🧡

Honestly, after Chromeskull, Bubba is probably my favorite slasher. Anyway, this was fun! I’ll also definitely write more of these at some point too!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[dirksawesomesprites]

editing / fixing sprites + my headcanons

Part 1: Beta Lowbloods

Aradia Megdio

without bag

with bag

dead

she uses she/they and is demigirl and bisexual. her horns are covered in a layer of dust from scavaging for fossils and living in an underground hive. she wears a messanger bag that she uses to keep all of her fossile hunting materials and other things. she uses the fossils to decorate her hive and shes goth (original i know). her matesprit is sollux and her moirail is feferi.

Tavros Nitram

he uses he/him and is a cis guy (just is slightly feminine) he is mlm/gay. he loves fairycore and his favourite dog breed is a golden retriver (speficially the human version dave showed him, not alternian.) his robot legs will occasionslly malfcution, causing them to either get locked in place, squeak loudly, or get sticky joints. dave constantly has to call dirk over to fix his legs. his matesprit is dave, moirail is gamzee, and he has a black crush on gamzee (not very "black" though, mostly a "i can fix him" mentality but it ends up being "i can fix him but itll make me worse in the prossess) type stuff. its a pale leaning black thing.

Sollux Captor

he uses they/he/she and is bisexual and bigender (original i know but its kinda funny concidering my headmate with a sollux source is bisexual and bigender so im stealing that). hes emo and has a johnnie guilbert shrine in his hive he swears is ironic. he is colour blind (blue colour blindess specifically) so he sees voilet/purple as a ugly brown thats why he calls eridan ugly so much. he plays the synthesizer. hes double jointed and likes to gross his friends out with it. his shoes were orignially both white but he lost the second one but was too lazy to find it so he just wears the same brand shoe but different colours. theyre vans shoes. his matesprit is aradia , his moirail is dave , his kismesis is eridan , and his auspistice is karkat.

Karkat Vantas

he uses they/he, theyre nonbinary / transmasculine (has top scars and is technially transmasc but is also nonbinary i dont know if im saying this right) and is unlabeled for sexuality (they kiss guys but is unlabeled take with that what you will) they are punk even if they dont particualerly dress like it. their sweatpants are too big and their sweater is too small / tight so theyre a small gap of stomach showing. he purrs when happy, sleepy, or comfortable. when he gets scared their voice cracks and squeaks. when theyre alone listening to music in their hive hell jump around bouncing off stuff pretending to play the guitar and screaming / singing at the top of his lungs to the song. his matesprit is gamzee, his moirial is eridan, his kismesis is dave, and they aupistice for eridan and sollux.

Nepeta Lejion

she uses she/meow and is girlflux, catgender (original i know), grey romantic, and asexual. when she paints on her shipping wall she tends to get paint all over her and it has since stained her jacket. she has had her hat since she was very little and its very streched out and worn. same with her tail as its not part of her, it drags on the ground behind her and gets dirt, sticks and leaves caught in it most of the time. she likes to play the xylophone, read warrior cats, and play animal jam with equius. she purrs when she his happy / sleepy / comfy like karkat. her matesprit is feferi and her moirail is equius.

[shortfeet]

GTA V Best Photos of Jewel Store Job Smart way mission

[fairy-writes]

REMEMBER ME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Vash the Stampede x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Angst, Reader is Short, Use of Various Nicknames (mayfly, half-pint, shorty, etc.)

Notes: I’m still very new to the Trigun Stampede fandom. So please forgive me if I get anything wrong!

ALSO, YES, I’M STEALING THE TITLE FROM COCO

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

When you opened your eyes, you scared the poor nurse checking your vitals.

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped for air. The nurse screams and pushes a button as you pass back into unconsciousness.

When you wake up again, there’s a doctor in a white lab coat writing something on a clipboard when he notices you looking around.

“Ah, so you’re awake then?” He says kindly, and you mumble something incoherent. Your throat is as dry as the desert outside, and you can’t quite remember where you are.

The doctor seems to realize something and chuckles to himself.

“Right, you’d probably want some answers, yes?” You nod silently, not entirely trusting yourself to speak just yet. 

“You’re in the hospital. Your friends brought you here after a nasty hit to the head. You fractured your skull, but it’s healing nicely thus far.”

A fractured skull? 

“Wouldn’t that kill me?” At this, the doctor shakes his head,

“Humans have existed for centuries and dealt with injuries far worse than this one. You’ll be fine.”

“How long was I out for?” You can’t help but ask, almost scared of the answer. The doctor checks your clipboard at the end of your bed and flips a couple of pages. 

“Looks like you were out for about a week, give or take a day or two.” He says casually, and you swallow thickly. 

The doctor notices your brief panic and puts the clipboard down to touch your shoulder, 

“You’re fine. You shouldn’t have any long-term effects from your injury.” He reassures you, and your shoulders sag in relief. If he said everything was okay, you had no reason to be alarmed. You nod with a tight smile, and the doctor seems to have remembered something. 

“Your friends are waiting outside. Would you like me to bring them in?” He asks, and you pause for a brief moment before nodding. 

“Yes, please.” You say, and he smiles from under his mustache, 

“We’ll bring them in one at a time so you aren’t overwhelmed. They are a bit of a rowdy bunch.”

Things go horribly wrong when someone you don’t recognize comes in. 

He’s tall, with floppy blond hair and eyes hidden behind orange glasses. He has an odd-looking prosthetic arm and is dressed in a crimson coat over all black. He looks incredibly relieved to see you. So relieved, in fact, that he all but sprints to your side, leans down, and kisses you on the mouth desperately. 

He tastes like tears and anguish. Like he never expected you to wake up. All of that was well and good, except for the fact that you didn’t know who this was. 

So you push him away, eyes wide, and your shoulders tensing. Confusion colors his features. 

“Mayfly—” You cut him off. 

“I’m sorry… Who are you?”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say. Because it looked like you had just shattered this man’s heart. Like you ripped out his heart and stomped on it. The light in his gaze died, and he almost crumpled to the floor. He slumped into a chair in shock. 

“Mayfly?” He all but whimpered, and you frowned. 

“That’s not my name.” Just then, before you can say anything else, the doctor came back in. 

“Are you ready for the next person?” He asked, and you nodded. 

Anything to get your mind off of the poor blond in front of you. 

Luckily, you recognize the next person that comes through the door. 

“Nicky!” You cheer when you recognize the face of Nicholas D. Wolfwood. He grins and ruffles your hair as gently as he can manage. His Punisher is nowhere to be found. Maybe it’s on the van? 

“You had us worried there, Half-Pint.” He teases, and you bat his hand away, but you’re grinning. 

“You remember him?” Comes a soft voice and you turn to see the blond man again. If possible, he looks like he’s even more heartbroken and upset than before. 

He’s acting like you keep stabbing him in the back with every word out of your mouth. And for whatever reason, your heart aches for him. 

Nicholas seems to notice the tension between you two and frowns, 

“What, you having a lover’s spat or something?” He asks, and now you frown, 

“I don’t even know who he is.” You say quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

“The hell do you mean? You two can’t keep your hands off each other.” He demands and flicks your forehead. You wince and swat his hand away. 

“I mean, I’ve never seen this man in my life!”

The next two people tumble into your hospital room, and you flinch at the noise. Your name blubbers from Meryl Stryfe’s lips, and she throws herself onto your bed and wraps her arms around you tightly. Roberto de Niro follows slowly behind, offering you a toast of sorts with his flask. 

“I thought you’d never wake up!” Meryl cries, and you pat the short girl’s head,

“You can’t keep me down forever, Meryl, you know that.” You tease, and she looks up at you, wiping tears from her eyes. A wobbly smile crosses her face as the doctor comes back in. 

You are discharged the next day. But not before the doctor has some parting words for you. After mentioning the whole “not recognizing the blond man whose name was apparently Vash” thing, he ran some tests. He diagnosed you with “systematized amnesia,” which was apparently where you could lose all memories of a single person or event. 

Huh… The brain was a funny thing…

Meryl is babbling about what you missed during your coma. 

“Vash rarely left your side, you know!” She chirps, and you glance sidelong at Vash, who is avoiding your gaze. You sit on the left side of the van, with Nicholas stuck in the middle and Vash on the opposite side. Apparently, you used to sit next to Vash, but after everything that happened after you woke up, you weren’t comfortable with it. 

Nicholas is less than pleased. 

“You better get your memories back soon, shorty.” He says before he clambers back into the van after a rest stop. His expression was angry, but you know by how he holds his shoulders and his words that he’s worried about you. He is so concerned, in fact, that he doesn’t complain otherwise. 

You jolt and see Meryl looking at you in the rearview mirror, concern etched across her features, and realize that you never replied. You offer her an awkward smile but don’t say anything. 

If possible, Vash sinks into his coat even more as if trying to disappear. 

It’s cold in the deserts of No Man’s Land during the evenings. You can feel the temperature dropping as you build a small fire. Usually, fires would be dangerous, especially with bandits roaming these parts but it was cold enough to risk it. So, to mitigate the risk, you parked the van against an alcove of rocks and built a fire just at the mouth of the little cave. 

Everyone is snoozing in their sleeping bags while you keep watch when you’re approached by Vash. 

Perhaps approached isn’t the right word. Vash more or less sits an appropriate distance away from you, arms around his knees.

It’s quiet. 

Almost awkwardly so. 

The tension between you two is so thick that you’re fairly certain you could slice through it with a knife.

Until…

“I’m sorry.” You blurt, unable to take the silence and his quick little glances when he thinks you aren’t looking. You can’t take the heartbreak in this man’s eyes. The eyes of someone you feel like you should know but are entirely unfamiliar to you.

But something in your heart yearns for him.

Vash looks at you, uncertainty playing across his face. You look away when his gaze meets yours and down at your fingers. 

“I’m just—I’m sorry for all of this… For not being able to remember… I want to! I do! I promise! But—”

“Mayfly,” He says gently, and you look up to see him staring with something unreadable in those beautiful blue eyes hidden behind orange glasses. He doesn’t scoot closer, almost like he’s not allowing himself to. But he still continues on, “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine. I should’ve made you stay behind. Then maybe—”

Not it’s your turn to cut him off. 

“I’m going to stop you right there. If we really were together, then you know I wouldn’t have sat idly by.” You say sourly, and he huffs out a little laugh.

“You’re right… I should’ve remembered that…” He mumbles, and you smile,

“Looks like I’m not the only one losing my marbles.” You tease. His eyes darken again, and he looks to the dying fire. 

Whoops… Wrong thing to say… 

You sigh and look out at the desert. Well… You look out at what you can see with the van in the way.

“I can see how much this hurts you. I’m so, so sorry I can’t remember.” You whisper, twisting your hands this way and that as you wrack your brain, trying to remember something about this blond man who seemed to love you so much.

Only to end up with a headache and not much else. 

A thump on your head causes you to flinch and look up. 

Nicholas stares down at you with tired eyes. 

“Time for you to go to bed, runt. ‘s my turn to keep watch.” He says with a yawn before glaring pointedly at Vash, who sits ramrod straight when he notices the look. “And you need rest, too, blondie.” He scolds, and you roll your eyes,

“Yes, mom.” You say in jest, and he just ruffles your hair while fishing a cigarette from his jacket pocket. 

But you relent, standing and wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself as you leave the comfort of the fire. The cold sets in soon after, and you snuggle into your sleeping bag as quickly as you can manage. You hear Vash do the same, but his breathing doesn’t deepen, nor does it slow. 

He’s awake, just like you.

At least… Until you fall asleep. 

You dream of a soft caress, gentle lips against yours, and the most beautiful shade of blue you’ve ever seen. 

And you awake feeling confused. 

[suguruspit]

begging for you

18+ MDNI!! // Choso x reader, vampire!Choso

cw; blood mention (vamp related not graphic!), begging, oral (reader receiving), overstimulation (choso)

summary: after intense battles choso needs to replenish blood, something he finds no particular pleasure in until he finds you. he makes sure you get something out of it, and he loves you. <3

Choso was a patient man- half man? He still wasn’t sure what he technically classed as, as if it mattered. Being born to a half curse had its side-effects, not to mention existing as a cursed womb death painting for over a hundred years before being able to stretch his legs. His brothers manifested in ways that made them outwardly more ‘cursed’, whereas he seemed to have settled into his body quite well. 

Noritoshi Kamo possessed the Blood Manipulation technique, it was inherited and therefore part of the body, meaning Kenjaku had been able to pass it down to him. Blood Manipulation, as it seems, is a lot more complicated than simply telling your blood where to go. Using blood in battle has its setbacks, and if the opponent is smart, they won’t let the fluid return to your body. 

Which means, in short, Choso needs to replenish it in less than conventional ways. 

There’s the traditional blood bags which he used to get Kechizu to steal off the back of the transportation vans, preying on smaller animals which tasted rotten and gamey, or… feeding off of humans. 

Choso likes humans, they can be misguided and psychopathic but that's the minority of them, and he’s half-human himself so he has a sense of some connection to them, which means he doesn’t prefer the final method as it isn’t in his ideals to harm another human when there isn’t necessity to do so. 

Unfortunately, though, it happens to be the best way to replenish his blood and feed his strength after battle. What’s fortunate, though, is he met you. Who doesn’t seem to mind this affliction of his at all.

However, as patient as he is, as intelligent as he is, when it comes to you that just isn't the case/

"Fuck," Choso breathes, taking in the sight below him. You were both on your bed because it was twice the size of the one Jujutsu Tech gave him. Your hair was fanned out across the pillows, legs spread with your knees half up as you caught your breath. "S'good for me."

You whine, hands covering your eyes in embarrassment as Choso just hovers above you, staring, admiring his handy work. Pink, angry marks shiny with spit were dotted across your thighs and stomach, leading up to your chest where they tapered off into nip marks instead.

Choso can never get enough. He's greedy, he knows that he just doesn't deserve any of this but you're here, you're with him. So perfect, angelic, his savior.

"Cho?" You ask quietly, not wanting to spook him out of whatever he's got on his mind, but your thighs are grinding together and you can feel your own slick sticking them together. "You okay baby?"

"Can I touch you?" Choso answers in a whisper, hands ghosting above your breasts as his scar starts to leak pin-pricks of blood on his nose as he gets flustered.

"You already have been," You laugh breathlessly, but you take his hand anyway and guide it to your chest, letting out a quiet moan as he squeezes gently, smoothing his thumb over the soft flesh of it.

He leans down before taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently, his eyes rolling back at the noises you make for him. He ruts his hips against the sheets and whines around his mouthful, making you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

"Fuck, don't," Choso whines, his cool forehead leaning against the warmth of your stomach. His hand is moving quickly beneath you, and you feel heat stir in you at the realisation of what that means.

Your blood hangs in the air, a scent of metal and arousal, and Choso begs you to let him have it, let him earn it.

This leads to him desperately eating you out, tongue lapping up every trace of your taste that he can, whining whilst he does it and humping the mattress. Choso loves tasting you, something about it is so addicting, and he can't decide if he loves that more or the refreshing blood that flows through your veins, the blood that spills out fresh and warm onto his tongue when he bites down as you flutter around him.

Just the thought of it has him panting on to you, he sits up to press a thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles as he grunts above you, spilling his own release onto the bed.

You laugh breathlessly in between moans as you feel that familiar coil of heat in your stomach, and your thighs twitch at each circle of his fingers. Always so eager to please you he can never last.

"You're so beautiful," Choso moans out, cheeks pink and scar open and flowing now. He's rutting into the air, before he looks at you and lets his fangs drop so that they're denting his bottom lip. "Can I? I'll be good, I promise, princess. I'll be good for you."

You spread your legs with a groan, reaching out to take his hand as he frames over you, holding your hand and pushing inside, both of you groaning at the stretch.

"Oh god," Choso whimpers, hand gripping yours like his life depends on it. Blood from his nose drips onto your chest and flows like a slowing river down your stomach to join the mess you're both making. "You're so perfect."

"Fuck, Cho," You whimper. He's so big and the burning stretch as he starts a rhythm is just so good. He's so beautiful like this, thin bangs sticking to him with sweat and cheeks flushed a pretty pink making his nose scar stand out with a beautiful crimson. "So good for me, won't last baby, wanted you too much." You confess, hoping he can feel how desperate you really are, your slick already dripping on the bed and mixing with his come from earlier and that trail of blood.

Choso whines, rutting his hips into you, his rhythm failing slightly as you tighten around him. So close. He pants, before biting his lip and doubling his efforts, hips snapping and fucking into you roughly as you cry out against the pillows.

His index finger finds your clit again, sliding as your slick makes it slippery and wet. That band is getting tighter and tighter, but he hasn't bitten you yet, and you know that's what he needs.

"Cho, baby," You pant out, your hand reaches out to brush against his lips, catching his fangs slightly at the with-draw, making him whine and stutter his hips. "M'close, bite me, please, need you to." It's more of an incoherent babble, but you know he must get the message because he closes his eyes, tears leaking out from overstimulation before he finally leans down into your neck.

You can feel the tears drip down and cool your hot skin, and you bite your lip in anticipation. You really wanted to wait, to make the whole thing longer but you were so so close you felt like crying yourself, he was hitting all the right spots with such confidence and still abusing your clit which hurt just right.

"Can I?" Choso begs against your neck, breath ghosting against your jugular and you feel feverish. He's close, leaking impossibly inside you as he asks your permission. "Please, can't wait. Please."

"Yes!" You cry out, feeling yourself slip over that supernova of an edge, your walls flutter around him, pulling him in even tighter as your release coats him, creamy and wet and making you so tight that Choso sobs out against your neck.

His tongue teases your neck, following your vein before he lets out a prayer and a thank you and finally, finally, sinks his teeth into your warm and waiting flesh.

You gasp and whimper as it sets of a second wave of your orgasm, and you feel your vision go white. Choso is groaning and sobbing as he sucks your blood into his waiting mouth, his hips snapping up twice before he's coming hard, his hips humping you almost as it comes and comes. You feel it flowing down your thighs and your eyes slip close as you just let him have his way, knowing how much better he's going to feel in a minute.

It's not like you don't get anything out of this. Secretly, you hope he's off on another mission soon if it means this is the gift you get on his return.

-----------

sorry that i dropped a singular fic and left for months I was getting over my embarrasment

[seat-safety-switch]

In modern life, all people pass through a moment where they realize that machines cannot think. They cannot reason. They cannot use common sense. All they can do is sit in their little main loops, waiting for some external stimuli to tell them when to do their jobs. A self-checkout, for instance, cannot tell the difference between eight kilograms of bananas and eight kilograms of Oreo cookies, nor does it care.

Sure, the designers know this. They are well aware of all the flaws of their products. It does not make economic sense for them to do a good job, because everyone else in the industry also cuts corners. So they cheat. A machine will try to ingratiate itself to you, to speak to you in your language, to emulate the human being that it is replacing.

The hope here is that you might feel bad about ripping the machine off. Our brains are wired to think that inanimate objects are alive, and have thoughts and feelings. Oh no, the Brave Little Toaster is gonna get shit-canned if I steal thirty-seven dollars worth of chickpeas. Do not trust this instinct. That machine would be just as happy sitting in a completely empty supermarket, or at the bottom of the ocean, as long as there is power and a clock signal. Even though it says "sorry," it does not mean it.

Becoming aware of the facade of consciousness is useful for more than just casual shoplifting, of course. For instance, you can install your own self-checkout into the grocery store. Grocery stores go tits up all the time, and you can find their leavings on any reasonable commercial-bankruptcy auction site. Just show up in a bright yellow safety vest, wheel the old one out to your rented work van, and come back in with another. Nobody will ask you to verify yourself, because you are just a pawn of the machines, and so are they. And hey, this slightly funny-looking one with all the hand-drawn labels on the front speaks the same language as all the others. It must belong here too.

[maybe-im-dark]

Like a prayer

Based on this post

------

The late-night fast food joint was nearly empty, fluorescent lights flickering above while Logan leaned back in his seat, shooting Wade a half-smirk over the rim of his drink. They’d barely made it to the end of their meal without bickering over something trivial, but Wade loved that—the arguments, the banter, the push-and-pull that made things feel like they were truly alive. Here, with greasy fries, cheap beer, and the warmth of Logan’s rare but genuine laugh, Wade felt a sense of peace.

When Logan stood to head to the bathroom, Wade barely registered the way Logan muttered something about Wade stealing his fries, watching him disappear down the hall with a grin.

Minutes passed. Too many.

The smile faded, Wade’s senses pricking with unease. He glanced around, half-expecting Logan’s gruff figure to stride back, maybe cracking a joke about Wade being paranoid. But the uneasy silence grew, stretching thin, and Wade’s heart began to pound. Something wasn’t right. He rose, pushing his tray aside and hurrying toward the bathroom.

As he entered, a metallic scent hit him—blood.

His gaze dropped, horror creeping up his spine as he followed the dark smears of blood staining the floor, leading to the open window. Logan had been kidnapped. The realization hit Wade like a fist to the gut. The panic sharpened into something harder, something cold and deadly.

The manager nearly choked as Wade pressed him against the wall, a gun held to his temple. Wade could only imagine what an image he gave off —a bald man with a face full of burn scars and blisters, eyes black as the night, aiming a gun.

“Security footage,” Wade hissed, his voice like a razor. “Now.”

Terrified, the manager stammered and scrambled to comply, showing him the footage. Wade’s stomach twisted as he watched the screen, where Logan had been ambushed—no, hunted. The men had moved quickly, mercilessly. They’d struck him with knockout gas, beaten him with lead pipes until he crumpled, helpless, his skull crushed, bones breaking with each brutal swing.

They dragged him, his body limp, leaving a trail of blood as they shoved him into a van. Wade could feel his hands shaking as he took down the license plate number. Rage surged through him, cold and fierce, as he turned and left without another word, the screams of the manager fading in the background.

---

Wade’s contacts came through quickly, as he knew they would. They owed him, and he would’ve torn down their doors himself if they hadn’t. He found the address, a decrepit warehouse on the outskirts of town, the kind of place where shadows stretched long and secrets lay buried under layers of dust and neglect.

He’d expected to face this alone, but as he approached, he saw familiar figures—the X-Men—already there. Of course they had caught wind of what happened. They nodded grimly as he joined them, each one looking as angry, as frightened as he felt.

Jean’s soft voice cut through the tension, filled with sympathy. “Wade…I have to warn you, they’ve done something to him. They’ve tried to…erase him, turn him into a weapon again.”

Wade clenched his jaw, a chill creeping up his spine. The very thing Logan feared most—being stripped of his humanity, reduced to a monster at the whims of men who saw him as nothing but a weapon.

“I don’t care what they’ve done,” Wade muttered, his voice thick with pain. “We’re getting him back.”

A crash interrupted them, and they turned to see Logan at the end of the hallway. His eyes were wild, a twisted feral glint in them that sent a pang through Wade’s heart. This was not the Logan he knew, not the man he loved. His gaze was empty, filled with only rage and instinct.

“Logan…” Wade breathed, his voice a mix of shock and sorrow.

But Logan didn’t seem to hear him. He lunged forward, claws bared, each movement a brutal, calculated attack. The X-Men tried to hold him back, but he cut through them with vicious efficiency. Every strike, every slash—there was nothing held back, nothing restrained. His healing factor, paired with his berserker fury, made him unstoppable. Jean fell back, a wound across her arm; Hank was thrown against the wall, groaning as he tried to rise. The other X-Men didn't fare any better and they quickly retreated.

Wade’s chest tightened as he watched, desperation clawing at him. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let them lose Logan again, not like this.

An idea formed, a wild, reckless hope.

“Wolverine!” Wade’s voice rang out, the sound echoing as he stepped forward, blocking Logan’s path to the others. “Come and get me, honeybadger!”

Logan turned, the wildness in his eyes flickering as he sized Wade up, a snarl pulling at his lips. Wade took a deep breath, leading him into a small, empty room at the end of the hall. He could hear Jean’s worried voice behind him, begging him not to do it, to let them help.

But Wade shut the door, closing himself in with the man he loved, the man who now saw him as prey.

Logan’s posture was predatory, his muscles coiled and ready to strike. Wade felt a flicker of fear but pushed it down. Instead, he looked Logan in the eyes, willing him to see, to remember.

And then, he did the only thing he could think of. He began to sing.

Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone

I hear you call my name

And it feels like home

The words spilled from him, shaky, his voice cracking with emotion. Logan stopped, his head tilting, a faint glimmer of recognition in his gaze. Wade’s voice grew stronger, louder, each word a lifeline.

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour, I can feel your power

Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

He was crying now, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face. This was the song they'd saved the world to, holding onto the raw strings of matter and anti-matter, holding each other's hands. It was theirs, a memory of a connection that could never be severed again.

Logan’s breathing slowed, his eyes softening, the rage melting away as he stared at Wade, the familiar lines of his face, the sound of his voice. Slowly, the haze lifted, memories returning as he saw Wade—his Wade.

“Wade…” Logan’s voice was rough, barely more than a whisper, but Wade heard it, heard the pain, the sorrow.

Wade stepped forward, his hands shaking as he took Logan’s face between his palms. Logan’s eyes were wet, shimmering with regret and grief as he collapsed into Wade’s arms, his entire body trembling.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Logan choked, clutching Wade as though afraid he’d vanish. “I couldn’t…they…I wasn't strong enough.”

Wade held him close, his own tears falling freely. He stroked Logan’s hair, his voice soft, soothing. “Hey, hey…you’re back. You’re with me. I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the darkness around them seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth of their embrace. Logan’s sobs quieted, and Wade gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, pressing his lips to Logan’s forehead.

Outside, the X-Men waited, the tension easing as they heard the muffled sound of Wade’s song, the quiet murmurs of reassurance. Jean and Hank exchanged a glance, relief softening their expressions.

In that moment, with Wade’s arms around him and his familiar scent grounding him, Logan felt safe. The shame, the rage—they faded, replaced by something fragile, something hopeful.

“I’m here, Wade,” Logan whispered, his voice rough but steady. “I’m…I’m here.”

Wade’s voice was a soft promise, his words barely a whisper as he held Logan tighter. “And I’m never letting you go.”

It wasn’t an ending, nor a beginning. It was a moment suspended in time, where two souls found each other again, bound by something deeper than memory, stronger than fear. And as Wade held him, Logan knew, for the first time, that he was home. Because home wasn't a place, it was a person. And that person was Wade.

[revelboo]

Hey, I love you're work and I think I'm obsessed with you're writing and I wanted to ask if you could write more of Ironhide, please 🙏 his my favorite 😅

Thank you!

Hold Me Down Pt 3

IDW Ironhide x Reader

• “Shut up.” Baring his denta as he adjusts your dead weight where he’s got you tucked dangling under an arm, he strides past Hound and Trailbreaker. The latter venting raggedly he’s laughing so hard. Making him seriously question his choice in friends. Because they’d both cracked up as soon as he’d explained what had happened. “You two like humans,” he says, stopping short and turning back toward them. “I know you do.”

• “Sorry, pal.” Hands up, Hound retreats a step as if afraid he might just chuck you at him and bail. Still laughing, Trailbreaker just shakes his head. “Maybe try Beachcomber? If you’re lucky, he’s so messed up he won’t remember where the human came from to try and give them back.” Not even a thief deserves Beachcomber’s notoriously short attention span or his propensity for ingesting strange substances and staring at nothing for hours.

• Groaning as you reach up to touch your aching head, you realize you’re dangling face down by something wrapped around your middle. What happened? That’s right, you’d tried to steal a van. Possessed, demon van. Head turning, you suck in a breath. Realizing the thing that has you is a giant metal monster with angry blue optics that narrow upon realizing you’re awake. “Don’t you dare,” it growls in that same, deep voice as the possessed van. And you start screaming.

• Primus. “Good luck,” Hound calls out, hightailing it as you scream like he’s murdering you. Trailbreaker still laughing so hard he’s choking as he abandons him, too, wanting nothing to do with the noise and hysterics. Along the hall, habsuite doors are opening as Autobots poke their heads out to see what the commotion is. Mortified, he bounces you and the shrieking cuts off with a pained yelp.

• Clapping a hand over your mouth as the monster glares down at you and more monsters come to gawk, you taste blood and realize you bit your own tongue. “Listen up, you little brat,” he growls and you have the errant thought that you preferred being called ‘darlin.’ Because his tone had been amused then, he’s all anger now. “I’m no happier about this than you are, but you’re not going to squall like you’re dying or I’ll give you a reason to.”

• It’s an empty threat, but you still stare up at him with frightened eyes and stay silent. Feeling guilty about it even as his shoulders ease, he adjusts his grip on you. Head lifting to find Warpath, Tracks, and Sideswipe lingering to watch the drama. “Problem?” He growls, glaring until they return to their quarters and the anger slides into exhaustion, because he’s much too old for this.

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