#White-spotted sawyer

[rabbitcruiser]

Muncho Lake, BC (No. 2)

The lake is part of the Muncho Lake Provincial Park and located at kilometre 681 (mile 423) of the Alaska Highway. The lake is about 12 km (7.5 mi) long and its width varies. It reaches a maximum depth of 110 m (360 ft). The surrounding peaks (the Terminal Range of the Muskwa Ranges to the west and the Sentinel Range to the east) reach altitudes of more than 2,000 m (6,600 ft), while the lake lies at an elevation of 820 m (2,690 ft). It is formed along the Trout River, a tributary of the Liard River.

The jade-green color of the lake is attributed to the presence of copper oxide leached from the bedrock underneath. Its name is derived from the Kaska language in which "muncho" translates as "big water".

The small community of Muncho Lake is established on the lake's southern shore, at the confluence of Trout River and Muncho Creek. The Muncho Lake/Mile 462 Water Aerodrome is set up along the eastern shore of the lake, at Mile 462 of the Alaska Highway.

Source: Wikipedia

[onenicebugperday]

@melodraca submitted: I didn't know these guys bit until my family informed me after this one landed on me for a surprise photo-shoot 🥲 thankfully I remain bite-free

location: southern alberta

They do have mandibles that can bite, yes! But I've never been bitten. They don't have venom or anything so I can't imagine it would hurt that much beyond a sharp pinch. Handsome fella either way!

For those unaware, this is a white-spotted sawyer beetle, which is a type of longhorn beetle.

[orofeaiel]

White Spotted Sawyer

[euonymusatropurpureus]

Monochamus scutellatus (male)

[iloveplayrehersal]

People I simp for 😍

[klonoadreams]

Since Hilbert thinks his twin was a stillborn, does that ever affect him growing up? Like it's a touchy subject and what ifs

Even after Sawyer, they don't have a way to definitely prove that they're related, but imagine it's one of those "$25 blood test kits! See your ancestry!" they did as a joke to fill in a sleepover and BAM

Pokemon center has a Hilbert in the corner, going through all stages of grief at once, Cheren's trying to ignore the situation by talking awkwardly to his pokemon, Bianca was asleep, so she wakes up and why is Hilbert crying?

hvjrkhjbkb SO LIKE, there's an added layer to all of this on Touya/Hilbert's end, because despite everything, he always FELT like someone should be there. and it's a bit of a touchy subject because he never found out through his parents, but through a third party source that was being too damn intrusive for their own good.

Which is never a good thing, when you bring up the fact that he is SUPPOSED to be a twin, but what the actual FUCK. Now he KNOWS about it and has to deal with the, "who should be here with me?"

And it BOTHERS him. Especially whenever he comes across other twins. And he's like, on playdates with Cheren and Bianca, but he's still just "what if they were here?" and it just REFUSES to leave his mind. And sometimes, he just thinks, "Why me?"

This is brought to you by what I ended up doing to the BW player characters regarding their family ties, with Alder being their Dad (which will forever stay a constant because lmaooo).

Often, for his safety, the identity of his dad is kept a secret (if you know, you know), but that doesn't stop some people from calling him a bastard child, even THOUGH HIS DAD IS FINE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. He's just kinda aimless, given the fact that one of the two children he had was a stillborn, and then one of his Pokemon died to an illness?????

LIKE CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THAT DOES TO A PERSON??? So he just often wanders aimlessly, usually visiting during holidays, birthdays, or whenever he's in the area (surprisingly, a lot more often than you'd think, since his feet usually take him home when he's not at the League). He's a good dad otherwise....

...

Oh right - Benga. So here's the thing.... Let me go on a weird, long-ass tangent that is AAAALL related to this. I swear, it's relevant, it's just gonna be massive, so I'mma put a read more

fun fact: I had the "Alder is the Player Character's Dad" thing in my fanfic done BEFORE BW2 was released (meaning there was a gap of time after BW released both in Japan, and later, outside of Japan), and if you know how things were before X and Y, this means we HAD to wait after BW2 released in Japan before we got translations, so patches existed for roms (that is how I VERY much played Black and White first, by the way, it was the first Pokemon game I followed since its release in Japan) to hold us through until the official English localization released.

Originally, I had this elaborate situation because I legitimately thought Benga was Alder's son (before I later found out that, nope, grandson - again, translation to localization situation, it wasn't as convenient as it is now), where Benga was just from a previous fling that his Mama kept from Alder, until oops, "hey, I know I was kinda a dick before for ghosting you all of these years, but I'm dying...can you take him in?"

Now, I'm just looking at that, going, "you know what, Mama can fucking get it, being a Trainer who went on her own journey." She knows what she wants, and if landing the Unovan Champion as a husband is a feasible goal for her, then of course she'd go after it.

I like to think Mama was built different and had her own elaborate journey, where she spent at least ten years on her journey, just traveling around, dealing with whatever news she heard coming from overseas regions about criminal organizations, just absentmindedly collecting badges like "I should do that while I'm here" and then forgetting about everything else, like she's in an open world environment (like it's Scarlet and Violet, where I just went around, getting distracted by everything or in the case of my friends, going around catching everything on sight and also getting into areas they LIKELY shouldn't be in).

Truly an example of "We shouldn't have let ten year olds go on their own in this dangerous region" because by the time Touya/Hilbert is able to go on his journey, he's 14 - because that's the actual age limit (if you wish to go alone on a journey), added in to lower the trainer mortality rate (and region-wide concerns). Because LISTEN, there be Hydreigon in the wild and other mons that are capable of being hostile.

Anyways Mama was like 20 before she even caught wind of the Champion. Dude's only had the title for maybe a few years now - hard to say, since she was lowkey off the grid, because she was too busy catching Pokemon to help out her father and older sister with the Pokedex. Just field research to add more consistent variables to their data.

Like again, she was super casual on the Gym Badge side of being a Trainer - she just did her own thing before realizing, "I should try the League." and got the rest of her badges at the side. I mean it helps that she FINALLY ran into Alder. The stars fucking aligned, because Mama went "AWOOGA" and just her luck, Alder was single.

Anyways it took her like six years to get that ring on her finger, because Alder really was, "dude, there are better men out there - WHY ME" But nah, Mama picked him and wouldn't stop challenging him. She never really beat him in an official League battle, but she still did kick his ass every so often. Which, in the Pokemon World, is like a good way to appear attractive to others. :V

Where Benga comes into play, it's called Alder was a reckless older teenager that got into flings, like all teenagers tend to do. And being Pokemon Trainers adds another layer of recklessness. So you got two seventeen year olds just doing stuff like having one night flings that don't go anywhere...

Except oops, there's a baby, but whatever, orphanage time. Buh bye - there's no child support to collect from some rando one night stand, so PEACE. And then she left for an overseas region, never to be heard from again.

Seventeen years later, history repeats itself - only this time, the Baby Mama doesn't exactly make it through the birth like her bio mama, so now Alder is just being called up to collect his grandson - because SURPRISE, you're not only a father, but also, a GRANDFATHER. And by this point, the Champion Title makes it difficult to just keep this kid in an orphanage, so uhhh...take him. "You're like the closest living relative we can track down"

Anyways you know how Alder said there are better men? Yeah, he's like 34, with a grandchild to raise. And thankfully, he's pretty good at what he does - but STILL...A GRANDFATHER - why the hell does this lady want to go after him, when he has a grandson???

Anyways two years later, after one wedding and pair of rings, Benga is excited at the concept of being an older brother of sorts (really, he is an older nephew - AGAIN, it's complicated). And while things go south for one of the twins, he still does have Touya/Hilbert and they're raised together, even if Benga is a bit more feral due to Alder's influence.

All this mess, just to say that there's a lot going on with Touya/Hilbert - him thinking he was the surviving twin is just the proverbial cherry on top, given how much of a soap opera his life has become.

Really, him finding out about Sawyer is gonna blow his mind, but also make him all the more protective, after all the bullshit he's gone through. Genuinely just sobbing his eyes out, having a near melt down, maybe also even punching out Team Plasma too (physically with his fists) because WHAT DID THEY DO TO HIS SISTER. JUST LOOK AT HER.

She absolutely MELTED when she received a hug. The way she got emotional over a BIRTHDAY surprise. THE TRAUMA.

What's more, in that likely scenario, he can't just SAY that to her, like...without preparation. And while it was mostly a joke, because "lmao, we look alike, let's see if we're related in some way" before the truth is revealed.

And now Touya/Hilbert has this massive truth bomb to ease Sawyer into. LIKE

Being Touya/Hilbert is suffering.

[kitkathatesu]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Johnny Sawyer x Fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: ❗️SMUT❗️dub/non-con, (DO NOT READ THIS IF THAT IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU) ❕MDNI❕Use of degradation & praise, (mostly degradation) mentions of violence, alcohol use, kidnapping, canon!Johnny, implied cannibalism, biting, blood & knife play, forced thigh riding + oral (m receiving)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Stopping at a bar in a rural part of Texas proves to be more than a couple shots with a stranger when you find yourself fighting for your life in the front seat of a worn out pickup truck. But fortunately for you, he’s got a knack for the ones who fight back. And fortunately for him, he knows how to wine ‘em and dine ‘em. In more ways than one.

☽✞��

The Texas air is humid and dry in your nose as it whips through the driver side and passenger window rustling your hair. It’s about 6:00 PM and the sun is starting to set in the distance, the sky painted with orange and yellow hues. You breathe in deeply and sigh, it feels like you’ve been driving for hours and truthfully you have. Your ass is numb, throat is dry, and your eyes are watering from the restless night you’d had right before tearing out of bed and onto the road. Tired is an understatement but you catch an old wooden sign on the side of the road a couple feet in front of you at the corner of your eye, “Newt, population 3,000.”

“Fuck yeah.” You perk up and tap your fingers against the steering wheel happily as you drive down a narrow blacktop road. A gas station to your left, grocery store to your right, and a couple houses in between. It’s pretty rundown. Everywhere you look there seems to be something withering away. And just as you ponder that that’s all there was to this archaic town you come upon this decent sized, surprisingly sturdy looking building with the words Drayton’s Texan Tavern printed above it.

“A bar?” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek and sit idly. It’s a bit oddly placed, off putting, maybe even a little uncanny from the outside but nonetheless a spot to rest. A spot to let loose and relax like most. So you pull in, park, and hop out of the driver seat onto the pavement. The ache in your lower back starting to fade as you strut your way past different vehicles that are scattered about the parking lot. Many of them rusted and chipping away.

The familiar chime of a bell rings above your head as you push the door open. You’re met with smoke sitting stagnant and smoldering in the dim lighting. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes mixing with the musk of the multiple men and women standing around with drinks in hand chatting amongst themselves. You walk hastily up towards the bar, taking a stool beside a woman that’s obviously drunk slurring to someone stood beside her. You chuckle to yourself, glancing at the menu that’s now slapped down in front of you. Small and black with white lettering.

“What can I do ye for?” A voice echoes over the chatter booming around you. You’re greeted by an old man with a greasy black comb over who stands with a hand on his hip. Sweat glistening on his brow and a discolored handkerchief sluggishly patting it away.

“Ah, I’ll just have two shots of whiskey please.” He looks unamused as you offer him a soft smile. Grabbing the whiskey off of the shelf and pouring you two separate shots. Scoffing to himself as you take them straight to the head.

You see him nod to someone to his left and then walk from behind the bar towards a booth where three rowdy men are yelling at each other. “Hey! There’ll be none of that here boys. Either take it down a notch or take it outside.” He spat. You can’t make out much. But this isn’t anything new considering you’ve had your fair share of bar hopping, so you tune it out.

A black haired girl replaces the older man and you order two more shots. By the time the first two kick in your head is already fuzzy, body is warm and your thighs are sticking to the stool under you. You can’t help but notice a man in your peripherals, he’s not moving but his hands are in his pockets and he has a boot pressed against the wall behind him. A cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, the cherry burning bright reflecting his dark features.

“Would’ya like anything else ma’am?” The bartender asked flatly, leaning in close enough for you to hear her. You sit up straight and swallow before responding. “Yeah actually, I would like-“ What the fuck?

“She’ll have two more shots a’ rye. Make that four if ya would. Thanks doll.” Your breath hitches when you’re cut off, eyes darting over to meet the man who you’d noticed earlier now sitting next to you. “Names Johnny”, he drawled. “Ya got one?” He leered at you. Eyes half lidded and a sly smile pricking at the corner of his lips. Your cheeks heat up when you realize you’d been staring the entire time. Fuck.

“Oh, m’sorry my names Y/N.” You shift in your seat. Embarrassment bubbling up and spilling over through the dark blush that’s crept onto your face. Johnny sucks on his teeth and runs a hand through his hair impatiently. A low sigh falling from his chest when the bartender places the shots down in front of him.

“Here ya go. Enjoy.” She huffed as she turned to tend to the other people around you. Johnny chuckled to himself and slid two of the glasses over to you with the back of his forearm. Your jaw tightened when you turned to face him again, he’s very handsome. Dark hair, freckled skin, even darker eyes. A jagged scar on his cheek, arms toned and exposed, covered in more cuts and scrapes that time has healed over, some look fresher than others. Farm work maybe? Mechanic? Who knows. Who cares.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Your vision hazy in your peripherals as your only focus is on him. His jawline is sharp and his lips are pursed as he throws back a shot, butterflies flailing in your stomach when a drop of whiskey slips from his mouth and he wipes it away with a hiss. “C’mon, I can’t be the only one drinkin’. Didn’t get those for nothin’.” Shit. Not again.

“Yeah, sorry about that”, You mumble. Picking up the tiny glass and tilting it against your lips. A lump forming tight in your esophagus when you try to speak again. “M’just a little drunk already, my tolerance is sorta low if I’m being honest.” Your movements feel delayed when you move your head too fast to glance at him.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with gettin’ a lil tipsy now and then.” Johnny replied. “Though ya don’t really look the type.” He grinned, his eyes subtly draping over your figure. Ugh. Those butterflies from earlier feel like they could snap through your rib cage any minute.

“That so?” You giggle. Taking that last shot straight back before turning to face him. Confidence slowly creeping up your throat which you’re sure is just the whiskey making its rounds as it rushes through your bloodstream.

“I may not look the type, but that’s cause I know how to hide it. I’m real good at it too.” Johnny cocks an eyebrow and sneers, his face bouncing back and forth between confusion and curiosity. “So yer one of them good girls gone bad.” He teased. “And here I was thinkin’ ya were a sweet, innocent thing.”

“And that’s where you were mistaken sir.” You slur, leaning over the bar slightly. Your back arched and your head now laid across your arms, looking at Johnny through heavy lashes. The alcohol has you feeling like you could fuck this man in the back of your car. It also has you feeling like you could be making a big mistake doing so, but what’s life without one or two and you can't exactly tell the difference right now.

Johnny clears his throat as his eyes instinctively carve out the dip in your back. His jaw tightening and his teeth grinding together. You’re a feisty one. He likes that, he likes that a lot. But what he likes even more is that he can almost taste you with the way you look at him.

Your plump lips curved into a drunken smile and your eyes practically begging him to indulge. He swears he can hear your heart pounding, your blood pumping through your veins and it makes his cock strain against his zipper. But what makes it so enticing is that you have no idea what he really wants, what he needs from you.

“So”, Johnny leans in close. Close enough for you to smell his cologne and the cigarettes that stain his breath. “Ya wanna get outta here?” He whispered. His voice honeyed and hoarse, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know him, you’ve only been here a day and this isn’t even where you’re going to be staying.

“I- uh”, You stutter, picking your head up eyes flicking around at your surroundings anxiously. What do you do? You’ve already flirted. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, but you’re both drunk. “I actually need to get going soon, I’m supposed to be on my way to a relatives.” Johnny chuckled in response.

“No need ta be shy now honey. I’ll take good care o’ ya’.” Johnny licked his lips and breathed heavily, hot breath fanning over the side of your face. “What happened ta that fire in ya darlin’? Did I snuff it out or are ya scared that I’ll prove ya right.” You swallow harshly. Panic starting to settle in where those butterflies were.

“No- I just need to go”, You stammer. Sucking in a sharp breath to steady yourself as you stood up from your seat, watching Johnny’s face turn.. Cold. The air around you now suffocating, starving for oxygen as you study the way his entire demeanor changed in an instant.

“It was nice to meet you truly. Thank you for the drinks. You’re more than welcome to walk me out if you’d like.” You added with a nervous smile. Johnny sat there unmoving. Eerily still like he was stuck in place, you grimace at the sick feeling that churns in your stomach when you offer him an uneasy hand. His eyes could burn holes into yours, staring blankly back at you. Had your words fell upon deaf ears?

“Of course. Would be rude o’ me not to walk ya out after gettin’ ya all flustered. My apologies.” You stumble slightly when he abruptly shoots upwards, his gloved hand held out to you. You take it with a nod of your head and he smiles. His hand holding yours ever so gently you almost feel bad as you walk hesitantly towards the door. Maybe the alcohol is clouding your judgement. But better safe than sorry.

The bell chimes above you and you’re sucked into the dark that’s swallowed daylight whole. The parking lot is emptier than what it was when you got here, when you look farther out there’s nothing for miles other than this broken little town. It feels lonely, like the ground itself craves liveliness and it's hanging on by a thread. Or a noose, whichever one is wearing thin.

You breathe in the crisp night air and let out an exasperated sigh at how good it smells but how heavy your body feels on top of your sore feet. You'll be glad to get some rest at the nearest Hotel you can find. Johnny drops your hand as you stagger up to your vehicle, letting his back slump against the passenger side door as you stand idly beside him. Admiring him once more.

“Well-“, You said softly. “Thank you. I had a good time.” Johnny flashes a smirk, his lips alone giving you butterflies all over again. But something strange seems to lurk behind his charming alliciency. Something watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. “No problem doll. Ya shoulda took me up on that offer, woulda had plenty more fun.” He teased. Winking at you like some High Schooler.

You giggle, arms crossing over your stomach. "Maybe we could do this again sometime if I'm ever back up this way." You added assuringly. Johnny's shoulders dropped with a huff as he pushed himself off of your car. Pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to react to such a bitchy cue that he's disappointed. Oh well.

You tuck your hair behind your ear. Looking up at the stars then back to him. “I better get going. It’s already late and I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Johnny rolled his eyes, earning a scowl from you that you tried to mask but failed miserably. “Nice meeting you.” You scoffed.

Walking to the opposite side of the car you open the door and hop in. Reaching to turn the key over but it doesn’t start. The engine rattles to life then sputters out completely. That’s when you realize something is wrong. AGAIN. Good, great. Love that.

“Somethin’ a matter?” Johnny mocked, a shit eating grin spread across his face. You groan, can’t have a moments peace even after drinking to ease the stress of it all. “Goddamn it, why me.” You grumble. Hands smacking the steering wheel, frustration evident as Johnny sauntered over tapping on your hood.

“Pop it. Let me take a look.” He offered and you don’t hesitate. Maybe he’ll be able to figure out what’s causing the old shit box to fuck up now. He hollers from under the hood and you lean your head against the wheel praying to whomever may be listening that it’s nothing more than a dead battery or a loose wire.

“So I’ve got bad news. Looks like ya won’t be goin’ nowhere soon, ‘specially not tomorrow unless ya wanna blow up on the way there.” You chuckle loudly, sarcasm lacing your words together as Johnny closes your hood and pats some grease off of his gloves and onto his jeans. “Could take my chances and see how long it takes for it to catch fire.”

Johnny glanced behind him and his jaw tightens when he faces you again like he was being watched. “Or ye could wait it out and I could have my old man fix it for ya sometime in the afternoon. Get ya back on the road in no time.” That’s the last thing you wanted, last thing you needed to do. Your family will be pissed if you don’t make it before sunrise. You can hear them now.

“Any chance you know what you’re doing and could temporarily fix it? Good enough to get me out of Texas?” Johnny groaned loudly, his Onyx eyes meet yours and chills climb up your spine. He tsks as he stalks over. Now towering above your body with his arm stretched over the length of the car door, staring down at you without a word. It’s silent between you other than the crickets and frogs chirping away in the distance. Something feels off. “..Johnny?”

“Was hopin' you'da changed yer mind by now. But I shoulda' known ya wouldn’t put out that easy.” You sit frozen as he inched closer, not grasping what he’d just said. But the fog in your brain clears when he lunges at you like a rabid dog. “Yer Mama ever tell ya not to talk too strangers!?” He hissed through gritted teeth. His voice now raucous and ringing in your ears when you're met with his hands wrapped around your throat. You gnash your teeth.

“I- Please, fuc-“ Spit sputters out of your mouth and your eyes pop open wide, your fingers instinctively clawing at his wrists. He’s going to kill you right here is what you tell yourself over and over, but you know better than that. And with what you suspects to come you wish he would but you know that’ll never happen.

“Yer gonna be real pretty to look at. ‘Specially when I’ve got ya strung up in my cold room cracked open and bloody.” Johnny's pupils blow wide at the doe like look in your eyes, the fear and the realization that pings through you as his hand closes tighter around your windpipe.

Goddamn you look good like that. Johnny yearns to see just how far you can go. How long you can last when his knife is plunged deep and your blood spills. How could he resist when that image burns bright in the back of his mind? You fell right for him just like he knew you would. Like they all do. That’s okay. He likes ‘em stupid. But there’s something about the way you continue to fight him when you know it’s no use that ignites that disgusting fire within him.

A wicked grin stretches his lips thin and a groan rumbles in the back of his throat when your fists pound helplessly at his chest. “Fuckin’ stupid bitch, what’dya think this was?” You try and breathe between broken sobs, digging your nails into his skin as hard as you can. Punching, scratching, kicking. He doesn’t budge.

“Seems I oughta teach ya a lesson or two ‘bout what it means to be a woman round' these parts darlin'." He snarled. Teeth bared, nostrils flaring as one of his hands tears at your scalp. You yelp like a kicked puppy, your hair tucked tightly between his nimble fingers, the force stinging like a 1,000 tiny bees. You can feel every strand beneath his grasp breaking and pulling away at the follicle.

Your eyes well with tears when you’re violently yanked from the front seat and thrown to the cold ground. It swipes the air right out of your lungs when your back pummels the dirt. Your face twisting along with your limbs. Pain radiating from the fresh scrapes and scratches that scatter along your spine. “Shut up!”

His other hand quickly clasps your mouth shut denying you of the breath you so desperately need to take. Shirt riding all the way up and the back of your thighs continuing to scrape along the asphalt as he jerks and drags you by your hair to what you assume is his vehicle.

You flail your legs in a hopes to throw him off balance, but all you do is fuck up your knee in the process when he rips you upwards and hip tosses you into the backseat of a pickup truck.

“Johnny please- Please don’t do this!” You squeal. Digging your elbows into the old tattered seat, trying to pull yourself away from him when he starts to crawl over you. 𝙉𝙤, 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤. You panic, what do you do?! Where do you go? No one will hear you, no one can.

You struggle to gather yourself mentally, your internal conscience screaming for you to do something, anything. And that’s when fight or flight rips what remaining nerves you have left to shreds and your whole body begins to tremble. That adrenaline that'd been lying dormant sending your hurt knee straight to his groin when his legs threaten to lock yours in place. “Fuck you, you sick fuck!”

“Yeah! Augh that’s it-“ He winced and you paused, watching his brows knit together and his head drop down with a grunt, picking it up slowly, jaw cocked open as he breathed in deep through his nose. “Hit me.” He rasped. Wearing a smile so vile it makes you want to vomit.

Acid burns the back of your throat when your head slumps against the inside of the door. That adrenaline you had flickering in and out as you ponder on what your family will think when you don’t show up. When you never give them a call. You wish you would’ve spoke to them sooner, or talked to them a little longer when you had the chance. Tears fall down your cheeks and your heart breaks as you stare back at what you deem the Devil himself.

You suck in a deep breath, shoulders rising as you prepare to scream with all your lungs can muster, but your mouth is quickly met with four gloved fingers pushing deep into the back of your throat. Eliciting a loud gag from you. The taste of old leather and grime sitting sour on your tongue, you shake your head and bite down hard against his knuckles. He snorts and his tongue darts out like a serpent snaking across his bottom lip. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“You were right about one thing, ain’t nothin’ innocent ‘bout this mouth o’ yours.” He jested, pulling his saliva coated digits out of your mouth, smearing them down your face with a smirk. You cough in response, the slight tickle in the back of your throat and his weight now baring down on top of you leaving you breathless. Brainless, almost incoherent.

“Fuck you.” You utter, moving your hand to smack that smug look right off his face but it’s stilled. You groan in protest when you notice he’s got your wrists pinned above your head with one hand. The other one God knows where and you glance around for anything you could possibly use to subdue him. Even a little.

Johnny leans down, his face just inches above yours. “And here I was thinkin’ you’d be just like all the others”, he whispered musing himself as he watched your facial expressions crinkle up and change ever so often. “Cryin’, beggin’ for yer life but no.” You swallow hard. Anger and fear fusing together in the pit of your stomach as he slowly starts to pick you apart, poking and prodding at your psyche.

His words squeeze their way into your frontal lobe and wedge themselves between your legs as his other hand traces along your abdomen, his fingers curling into the thin flesh between your ribs making you hiss and squirm beneath him. “Here ya are.. Barely makin’ a fuckin’ peep waitin’ to see what I’ll do next. It’s almost like ya wanna see, and I gotta hand it to ya sweetheart. You’ve done a lot more than pique my interest.” He paused, brushing stray hair out of your face, tilting his head to the side as if to admire you. And briefly he was, but his focus was on the way you smelled. The way he can imagine a sea of cherry flavored waves crashing through your body and how sweet it’ll be when it spills and splashes onto his tongue.

You blink away tears, lower lip quivering as he nudges your jawline with his nose. Sending chills down your spine when he nuzzles into your pulse point. “Goddamn, you smell s’good. Bet you’ll taste even better on the inside.” He muttered and a surge of adrenaline ripped through you once more. He’s not going to kill you, he’s going to eat you. He’s the widow, you’re the fly. He’ll suck you dry from the inside till you’re nothing more than a hollowed out shell of who you once were. Empty.

“What- What do you- FUUCKKK?! Oh my GOD!” You cry out in agony, white hot lightning searing through your skin just above your hipbone. Your teeth bare down so hard they could break. “That’s it, lemme hear ya scream for me.” Johnny growled, that gnawing need to use you growing stronger with each thrash of your hips under him. You were fucked.

And that’s when you realize you’d been cut. You never seen the blade but you knew nothing else would slice that quick and clean. Blood trickles down the dip in your waist. Wet and warm soaking into the seat as your head swims and your body writhes in pain. Johnny’s hand releases the hold on your wrists and grabs your jaw, pushing your lips into a pout as he moves your face side to side. His fingers digging into the fat of your cheeks roughly.

“What’sa matter huh?” He asked knowing the answer, its never changed. You stare at him blankly. “Cat got yer tongue?” No response. Okay. We’ll see ‘bout that.

Johnny brings his hunting knife into view. The glint of the blade now evident as the streetlight reflects off of the cold, bloodied, steel. You silently seethe with rage and he raises his eyebrows, pulling your face closer to his by the pinch of your cheeks. “Mm, there ya are. I knew ya were still in there somewhere.”

Your eyes burn and your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your temples. Pulsing along to the beat. Thump, thump, thump. The air around you both thick like cement and the fire that’s flickering alive between your legs has you reeling with shame. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, unable to understand what you truly want when it doesn’t even matter.

“Yer lookin’ at me like ya want a kiss baby doll”, Johnny husked. Low and rumbly, purring like a Tom cat but you knew his claws were bound to dig in deep and never let go. Your jaw coils up tight and you raise your head just slightly, nose to nose with him. “Fuck you.” You hiss between gritted teeth. Pathetic.

“You poor, sweet, thing.” He said with mock astonishment, bringing the tip of his blade to your bottom lip burying it against the plumpness of it with a chuckle. “Yer gonna break like fuckin’ glass when I’m done with ya.”

Didn’t take much for the sharpness of it to break skin and your body jolted at the temporary sting, blood slowly trickling down your chin. Johnny groaned at the sight, his mouth opening and his smooth tongue lapping up the crimson stream sickly. Not wasting anytime attacking your lips in a hungry kiss you did not reciprocate. You grimaced and pressed your lips into a harsh line but he nipped at the already broken skin and your mouth opened up with a whine. His tongue lathing yours with the taste of copper and tobacco.

Something within you gives and he takes. Your hand snakes into his hair, gliding through the greasiness of it. Meeting the starving pace of his lips against yours, surprise etching his features when he pulls away to laugh at you. “Oh honey, yer achin’ for it. I knew ya would.”

Johnny yanks you up by the collar of your shirt and swiftly switches his position pulling you onto his lap. Your thighs straddle him and his lips crash to yours once more, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, letting them lay atop his shoulders. Rough hands grab at your hips, and you moan into his mouth. His cock hard underneath you. The friction of it burning hot against your core, you can’t help but roll your hips, chasing that little bit of pleasure that’s so close your head spins.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled, stilling your desperate movements, the pads of his thumbs digging deep into your soft skin. You shudder when you feel the blunt end of his blade now pressed to your sternum. “I’ll bleed ya fuckin’ dry ya try that again, understand?”

You nod your head and Johnny’s cock twitches at the submission. “Good girl.” He spoke like velvet lined his vocal cords and you mewl when his lips attach to your throat with teeth and tongue. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The warmth, the salty sweet taste of you, and the carnal need to plunge the thick steel of his hunting knife into your abdomen makes him pant like a dog.

One of his hands wanders farther down, kneading and grabbing the fat of your ass by the handfuls as the other moves you slightly, your slick core pressing against the top of his thigh now. You’re sure the wetness that’s pooled out of you is soaking through. “Ya wanna feel good?” He droned, looking at you with a predatory gaze that could rip you apart without a single touch to your skin.

“Yes, yeah I do.” You mumble, the tone in your voice half hearted and shaky. You’re just as deranged as he is. “Please make me feel good.”

“Look at that. Leakin’ through yer panties like a little slut. Gettin’ off at the thought of what I’ma do to ya, knowin’ it won’t end in your favor.” Johnny sighed. His breath hot and heavy.

“I’ma bad man Y/N, a real bad man. But you don’t care, ye hardly mind as long as that greedy cunt between yer legs is satisfied.” His eyes were like obsidian, black and blood thirsty. Yours were glassy from the tears that hadn’t failed to stream mercilessly down your face, stained black as your mascara smears. Looking down at him with your brows knitted together, mind battered and breaking at how much you ache for him. “Johnny, please?” Please.

“Go on then”, he spoke softly. “Ride my thigh.” Your mouth twitches and your thoughts haze, disassociation settling in briefly. “I said”, Johnny huffed, growing more impatient by the second as you sat there. His hand met your cheek with a loud slap, the skin there turning bright red, making your voice break out into a sob. “Rub yer fuckin’ cunt on my thigh, or I’ll leave yer pretty lil body layin’ on the side of the road like a slab of rancid meat.”

Your eyes well with tears once more, trying to find the words to say, barely grasping a thought in your head but the opportunity is ripped from you with another hard slap to your face. “Please I’m sorry!” You whine, saliva tinged red sitting metallic on your tongue. He scoffs and before you have time to process your pussy is now flush against his jean clad thigh, grinding your hips back and forth the length of it.

“Gotta do everythin’ my fuckin’ self huh?” He sneered, canines bared with a cocky smirk. His thumbs digging deep into your hips, earning a soft moan from your swollen lips as he slightly bounces his knee underneath you. “What was that darlin’? Can’t quite hear ya.” Johnny cooed. His nose tracing your jawline, a pleased hum rumbling in his chest when you buck your hips.

“Feels good.” You sigh breathlessly, eyes rolling back as you start to work with the push and pull of his strong hands. Rocking yourself at a steady pace, fingernails leaving indents into his scarred skin. Memories he won’t forget. Memories you won’t forget.

“That’s right. I can really feel ya soakin’ through now, dirty fuckin’ girl. Nasty.” His voice is like an old Country song playing on the radio, begging you to sing along. Southern twang making your heart flutter and cheeks flush.

Mama always said Christian girls should only listen to the word of our God. But the only thing you can hear right now is the ringing in your ears as you feel yourself roaring towards your first orgasm. Preach to me, Oh Lord.

“Oh fuck- Fuck!” You mewl, Johnny’s hands resting on top of your thighs now but you don’t notice. Your hips moving on their own accord. His eyes glued to your face as your jaw falls slack and your lungs give with such a pretty, pathetic, noise that he almost feels sorry for you. Like a bunny caught by the tail.

“Oh sweet girl, look at ya.” He rasped, cocking his head up, licking a Hell kissed stripe up your chin to your sensitive lips. Making you whine in protest when he pushes you off of his lap, his arms now draping over the back of the seat. Lazily opening his legs, clicking his tongue with a chuckle. “Yer turn.” He gestured with his hand, pointing to his rock hard length painfully restricted to his leg in the confines of his jeans.

The silence is mind numbing. Your body swarms with guilt and utter disgust blooms deep in your guts. How could you let such a depraved man use you like this? You’re going to die, your family will never see you again. Yet your gaze still shifts from him to his zipper, swallowing harshly as you close your eyes and move to your knees. They dig uncomfortably into the old itchy fabric of the seat.

“Get ta’ work doll. Ain’t got all night.” You wince at the reality of what happens next, an immobilizing weight hanging around your neck. You’d rather eat shit than get this man off.

But to your surprise he gently pushes his gloved fingers through your hair, massaging part of your scalp as he got to work on his zipper with the other. His cock springing free, smacking against his abdomen and you marvel at the sight. Thick, about 7 inches. Slightly curved. You squirm anxiously, inching towards him with your back arched. Face down ass up.

“I said- Ah, fuuuckkk.” Johnny groaned pornographically, head tipping back eyes fluttering shut when your small hand wrapped around the base. Carefully angling your lips right above his aching cock, letting a wad of saliva pool out of your mouth and onto his slit. Watching as it slowly drips down the fat of it, glistening in the street light shining through the windshield. You’re too far gone to stop now.

“That’s it, put it in yer mouth- Fuck yeah, just like that.” His bottom lip curls under his teeth when your hand glides down and twists back up just beneath the tip, using your thumb to rub at the underside of it as your plump lips wrap around what’s left to fit in your mouth. His hips buck and his grip tightens in your hair. A guttural growl rumbling in his chest when you take him deeper in without warning. Bobbing your head up and down aggravatingly slow.

“Gotta do better than that sweetheart.” You whine around him and gag simultaneously. His fist pounds against the back of his hand that’s clamped into your hair like a vice. Forcing the last inch of him to stab into the back of your throat. Your lips now sitting sloppy against his balls, nose pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock. The smell of musk and spit heavy in your nostrils.

Johnny scrapes his fingers through your tangled locks, breath rugged and chest heaving. He smirks to himself when your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans, your throat tightening around him with gag after gag. Tears stream down your face, vision blurry and hazing at the lack of oxygen. “Whores don’t need ta’ breathe, do they?”

Your eyes roll and your cunt squeezes around nothing. Drooling uncontrollably with the tip of his cock shoved harshly against the back of your throat, his pre cum leaking sickeningly sweet at the back of your tongue. He isn’t going to last much longer and though part of your mind is waiting for it to be over, the other part is yearning for more. For a release you’ll never get.

“Fuck”, he hissed. Your lungs threatening to give out till his hips buck and you’re granted one short breath, but it’s not long till he’s fucking your throat so hard that it hurts. “That’s right bitch- Take it. M’gonna fuckin’ cum.” Johnny had to bite back a whine when you broke out into a sob, a slobbering mess all for him and he reveled in the way you struggled to swallow his length. Struggled to keep yourself together.

His balls tense and he gives a couple stuttering thrusts and that’s it. He slams your head down once more with a loud groan and hot, thick, spurts of cum shoot down your throat. Rope after rope, making you choke and sputter. Spit and snot mingling as your nose runs and he pulls you off his cock with a wet pop. Tucking himself back into his jeans without another word. You wipe your face and sniffle, body trembling from the fear and arousal that’s clung to your nerves and between your thighs.

“Knew you’d be a good fuck.” He chuckled, a cynical expression on his face. “Could tell by the way those lips curved. S’shame I didn’t get to play with that pussy, though there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” What? No.. There wouldn’t be, not in a million fucking years.

“Go to Hell!” You took your chance and shot up bolting to grab at the door handle, hand still slick with spit and surprisingly it popped open and you almost fall out. But there was no escaping this man, he knew what he wanted and what he wanted was you. If he had to track you down to the ends of the Earth he would and he’d succeed. “Not quite yet sugar.”

Johnny yanked you back by your hair and you screamed to no avail. It was muffled by a rag, his big hand holding it tightly over your mouth and nose. With each breath your eyes grew heavier and heavier, a sweet smell lingering in your nose when you finally fell victim to sleep. Johnny let your head slump back into his chest before laying you down in the seat beside him, giving your ass a hard pat.

“Time ta go home, get ya settled in with the rest of the muts rottin’ down in the basement.” He tsked, pushing his gear shifter into drive before pulling out from the bar. Tires screeching down the road, white smoke billowing behind while you lay there in your drug induced slumber. Though you could faintly hear the rumble of his voice you couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I’ll make a pretty lil pup outta you darlin’. You’ll see.”

[shalotttower]

Darling, Darling

Title: Darling, Darling Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) Summary: The way he cradles you to his chest is almost reverent, like you are something precious. Bubba delivers a lesson after you tried to run away. Word Count: 1500+ Characters: Bubba Sawyer x Reader (female) Notes: Captive Reader, murder (implied), blood and gore (implied), violence, spanking, yandere Bubba Sawyer, cannibalism (mentioned), kinda NSFWish?

The way he cradles you to his chest is almost reverent, like you are something precious, delicate. Something to be cherished. Hands capable of ripping through flesh with ease carry you down the hall, careful not to bang your feet into corners. He doesn't want to hurt you. You know he doesn't, but it hurts anyway. Everything hurts.

Covered in dust and god knows what else, this house is in terrible shape and it reeks - of old colourless wallpapers, age and grime, of grease and smoke and slow decay. No one cleans here, at least from what you've seen. You make an effort not to look into the surroundings; there's a head on a coffee table and it's enough to make bile rise in your throat. So you focus on a single abstract spot in the distance.

"Please, I want to go home," your mouth feels dry when you speak.

He looks down, concerned eyes and messy hair, then shakes his head. Bubba Sawyer doesn't talk. Well, that's not entirely true. He makes sounds, noises. Squeals and grunts. He hums and whistles sometimes, but doesn't form words like you do. Whole and functional sentences don't come to him, which is likely a product of both genetics and childhood environment.

"Please."

With a quiet whimper he presses his face into your hair, and speeds up. The mask he's wearing today belongs to a young woman, or what once was a young woman, now it's merely skin stretched to a degree it shouldn't be.

No. No, you can't leave; Bubba pats your head to make a point - this is home.

"You can't keep me here," you rasp.

He smooths your back and makes more sounds, muffled by the leather; but he can. He can keep you, Drayton said so. He asked. Begged. Pleaded to keep you and Drayton said yes. Not before hitting him with that thick broom - ouch - but it was okay, because Bubba got to keep you. You're the first girl he has like this, the only girl he has like this since Nubbins died. Bubba misses Nubbins, but maybe with you he won't miss him so much anymore.

He needs you to see, to understand. To not run again.

Up, up the stairs you go, past framed pictures in the shades of brown, grey and black. Past the bathroom with peeling paint, stained bathtub and old medicine cabinet. Upstairs smells better than downstairs, cleaner somehow. The first time he brought you out of the basement was terrifying, you thought that was it. A filthy kitchen and walls caving in - the last thing you'd ever see. He gave you one of his grandmother's nightgowns instead, it had a faint perfume smell. The ruffles reminded you of lace wedding dresses from vintage movies. Bubba tucked you in next to himself, like you were a doll or a teddy, and you spent the whole night staring into the darkness, listening to his loud snores. It was warm, better than sleeping on the floor.

The mattress creaks when he sits you down.

His room is a simple space with a single bed and a shelf, crammed with objects that catch Bubba's eye. There's a crucifix on a wall; the irony of it even being there is almost laughable.

You look up. In a white-frame window the sun is setting, and nothing but miles and miles of cornfields surround this house.

You are in the middle of nowhere.

If he once decides that you're not something worth keeping around but food, then it's over. No one will ever find you.

A sob wrecks out of your throat. He crouches, and before you know what's happening, wipes your tears. Hushing and cooing and gently pressing his big hands to your cheeks. It would be so much easier if you could hate him, if he hurt you out of some deranged and violent instinct. But no, Bubba doesn't do any of those things.

He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars, he tries to care for you. Brings you flowers and plates loaded with food which you can't eat, because one look turns your stomach upside down. Because you know what is it, and he...he just doesn't understand why you keep refusing - Drayton always cooks nice meals and Bubba loves his cooking too.

He feeds you warm milk and bread, applesauce and boiled chicken breast cut into small pieces. Watches you chew with careful attention, lips smacking, tongue peeking out as he copies the movements of your mouth.

You feel sick.

He brings you gifts - broken toys, jewelry snatched from dead women, trinkets found in trash cans or discarded by the roadside. You wear some, because if you don't he gets upset and his shoulders sag. It's like kicking a puppy, and it's so...twisted. Everything about this is twisted, like some grotesque play.

Bubba doesn't hurt you.

Unless Drayton tells him to.

He hates this, when Drayton tells him to, because "you're getting uppity and spoiled". It's confusing - you're not spoiled. You behave well most of the time, eat chicken and never call him names, you're warm and soft and let him hold you at night. He likes that a lot. Bubba thinks it might be love, it's fuzzy inside when you're close, like in those shows Grandpa and Grandma used to watch before they gone still.

But Drayton is the oldest, he's smart and knows best.

You whine softly into the pillow as Bubba slaps your backside and whimpers too each time a croak of pain wrenches from your mouth. He wishes that he didn't have to do this, but you need to learn and be good, not try to run, otherwise Drayton might take you away. Bubba doesn't want this.

Your panties dangle around your knees - blue, lace trimmed - Bubba finds them very pretty, if it was in his power he'd give you all the pretty things to wear.

He swallows and raises his hand.

The flesh jiggles under his palm as he spanks you. Bubba counts in his head - Drayton said seven should be enough - one, two, three, four-

He tries to be gentle, but his strength is not used for being gentle. He has spent most of his life doing manual labor. With bare hands he can kill food. The soft skin of your backside changes color quickly into a bright shade of pink, and Bubba squeezes it for a moment, trying to soothe the sore area.

It doesn't help, tears rolling down your face keep wetting the pillow. He wants to scoop you up and cuddle, press kisses to your cheeks, but Drayton told him no. No kissing or hugging until you learn; "she is manipulating you, dimwit".

Your breath comes out ragged in uneven hitches, Bubba doesn't like how miserable you look, small and fragile on his bed. When your sounds subside to quiet, intense sobs, he makes a distressed whine. He feels bad, so very bad, but maybe next time you won't try to leave.

Six. Seven. Done.

Your poor bottom is bright red and raw looking, Bubba pats it carefully. He rubs cool cream to your skin, the one he snuck from Drayton's drawer, making sure to get everywhere before pulling your panties up. You smell nice - sweaty and salty like after work on a hot day.

You always stop talking to him right after. For the rest of the evening, the next few days or sometimes a whole week, and it's awful. You don't eat chicken, the pretty trinkets lie discarded and you won't even look at him.

It hurts more than Drayton and his broom do.

Bubba sits beside you on the mattress for several minutes, waiting. Waiting until you turn - just a little bit - so that he can tap your damp cheeks dry with a towel and maybe feed you apple slices dipped in honey. If you'll let him.

You don't.

Eventually you crawl under the blanket, stiff and quiet, back facing him. His throat burns, you're mad, you don't like Bubba anymore. Dread unfolds at the bottom of his stomach as the sky outside starts darkening, every time he gets scared that this will be it, that you'll hate him forever from now on.

Hesitantly, he climbs underneath the covers, settles on the very edge of the mattress and wriggles a bit closer every five minutes, in case you'll change your mind and want a hug - the lesson is delivered, so it doesn't matter, Drayton won't know anyway.

But the time passes and turns into an hour, yet still you don't move, not even a peek over your shoulder. He waits longer and then a bit more. His heart drops when Bubba realizes: you fell asleep without saying goodnight.

He watches your back rise and fall, then reaches across the bed to stroke your hair. Somehow his arm curves over your frame, and before Bubba knows it, he moves you closer, closer, up against his chest. Your breath is shaky and rough, but he holds on tight, the same way he'd clutch his favourite things.

Tomorrow Bubba will bring you flowers, some tulips because they are pretty like you, and maybe you'll be less angry. Maybe you'll eat apple slices and sit on Bubba's lap by the stove while Drayton cooks dinner, and won't try to run again. He hopes you won't.

[seabeck]

Some cool bugs from yesterday!

Emerald lake darner (iirc), caddisflies x2 (?), white spotted sawyer, and two cool banana slugs (I actually saw around 40 but these two were the prettiest).

[small-sinclair]

Snow and Rose

An idea by @violettelune

Reformed!Johnny Slaughter x fem!reader

Welcomed readers: @sup-im-blue

Tw: mention of blood and death, him being a dad, mainly his pov, just something fluffy, not prof-read

He woke up to another nightmare. Johnny dreamt that he found you dead in the sunflower field, your blood stained on his hands, lifeless eyes looking up. Then he heard his daughter crying in the distance. No matter how fast he ran towards her cries, he was never close enough. He was never there in time. It always ended with Nancy standing over the crib and a wicked smile on her face.

“Freed ya, Johnny. Now you can come home,” she would say. “Now you come back home. Come home.”

At his feet, barbed wire and chains wrapped around his legs and arms, pulling him to the ground. He felt roots sewing him to the wooden floor into front of his mother as he looked upon her and her smile. He felt chainsaw blades strangling him as he tried to scream your name, but sunflowers and daisies poured from his lips. His world filled with his victims, his deaths, and they all look at him with empty, lost eyes. He knew their names; how could he forget them? Then his eyes focus to the center and sees you and his child in a broken marble block, red tears falling from your eyes as you look on your child. He tastes your blood, your flesh between gasps and teeth. He hates this. He loves you. Stop. Stop it!

Wake up.

He would wake up in sweat, sometimes shutting, sometimes falling out of bed and pushing away from the bed and from you.

Tonight, however, he woke up with a start, breathing heavily, his dark eyes looking around like a scared wild animal. He looked down at your sleeping form then up at the cracked door leading into the hallway. He needed to check. Johnny just needed time check.

He got out of bed, put the blanket over your shoulder, and crept out of the room but something in his chest didn’t sit. He came back and kisses your head. “Be back, y/n,” he promised. “Keep my side warm.”

He may not be a hunter, but he still kept his talents. He can walk without noise, he can move without sound, and he can be hidden without being seen. Johnny uses that talent whenever his daughter is asleep when he comes home from a long day from the butchers. That’s why he got the job in Wisconsin; the butcher need another slaughter, and he’s good at it. Why waste a talent? He’s used to the blood, to the kill, but these are animals, not man. But he got the job to leave Texas. He swore to the stars he’ll never go back.

Johnny made that promise in a burned down church two years ago, and he stuck to it still.

He snuck out the room and down the hall to the open white door to the cotton candy pink room. He lets out a deep sigh as he came over the little white crib he built and looked down. Ophelia Rosemary Sawyer, his 5 week-year-old daughter, slept like a rock in a pink onesie with a bear in the center. Whatever fear he had, the nightmares, the shadows and ghosts— it all faded when he saw her sleeping in peace. Shes his rock, his world, his reason.

Ever so slowly, he lowered his hand and touched her head, and his heart fluttered when she moved into his hand. She’s not scared of him. As if she’s glass, he picks her up slowly and cradles her. He sneaks to the wooden rocking chair in the corner and rocks back and forth. The moonlight lit the room as the snow fell gently over the evergreens.

“Hey there, little sunshine,” he whispers. “Don’ worry. Daddy’s just needed ya.” He looks down at his world and rests his forehead against hers, kisses it, and holds her close. “I swear you’ll never be alone, ever. I love you… I’ll never not love ya.” Then he looks outside, stands up, and takes her to the window. “Look at ‘at, Ophelia,” he whispers in her small spot of brown hair, “it’s your first snow. So pretty an’ bright.” He looks out at the fields and forests, the farmlands and homes, and he thinks about the fireflies and waving weeds he left behind. “Daddy ain’t goin’ away, sunshine. I promise.”

He closes his eyes breathed out slowly. “Texas can keep the fireflies,” he looked down at his child, his blood and flesh, and his heart swelled, “I got my snow and rose.”

“Johnny?” Your voice was enough to make him jolt but he relaxed. “Why are you up? Is Ophelia okay?” You joined his side and looked down at your child. “I didn’t hear her.”

“Naw,” he answers, rocking on his heel, his eyes not leaving his child. “Sleepin’ like a lamb.”

You rested your head on his arm as he looked outside. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he said as he laid his head on top of yours.

“Is this your first snow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is it everything you’d imagined?”

He thought for a moment as he took in the land before him. He could imagine Ophelia and her friends running wild outside with sleds, building snowmen, having a snowball fight out back. He could see himself with you during a star filled night while the children sleep, slow dancing with you in the snow, kissing you sweetly while whispering praises. He thought about Texas and the heat, but he thought about you smiling while it snowed, his kids playing, and him giving you a cup of cocoa.

“Everything and more, moonbeam,” he whispers, meeting your eyes. He leans down and kisses you tenderly. “I love you, y/n.”

“And I love you, Johnny,” you said back. You looked back at the snow, and you both watched it fall over the moon lit snow.

[rabbitcruiser]

Muncho Lake, BC (No. 3)

Muncho Lake Provincial Park is a provincial park in British Columbia, Canada, located on the Alaska Highway as it transits the northernmost Canadian Rockies west of Fort Nelson. The park is part of the larger Muskwa-Kechika Management Area.[2] It is named after Muncho Lake, which is in the park and is both the name of the lake and of the community located there.

Folded mountains, geological formations, are visible above the road in the southern part of the park.

Source: Wikipedia

[onenicebugperday]

A beautiful white-spotted sawyer found on a walk, and this lovely cat-faced spider (Araneus gemmoides) hanging out in a window. They’re super common out here and I love them to bits.

I also love them!

[lace-coffin]

i feel like sending a rq this sappy kinda harshes the vibe of yr delightfully horny slasher headcanon posts but do you have any headcanons about how bubba’s s/o would fit into the sawyer household? like, how The Brothers might react to her bringing someone home or what day-to-day life on the sawyer homestead with bubba would be like?

Thank you for the rq!! I love writing fluff just as much as I do smut so feel free to send me all ur fluff ideas!

No trigger warnings apply!

Requests are open!

Reader is gender neutral and we’re operating on the basis that nubbins is still alive at the same time choptop is back home bc I love the sawyers

How would reader fit into the sawyer household as bubba’s s/o

You and bubba met one day when bubba offered to come help at the gas station, feeling cooped up in the house and not wanting to be alone. Drayton was more than happy to claim you as a victim as soon as he saw you pull up to the gas pump. This changed after your first interaction with bubba.

She was helping restock some shelves whilst Drayton manned the till. Dressed in a loose white sundress as it was easy to move in and won’t make them overheat whilst working.

You came in to pay, offering a polite greeting to Drayton who was putting on his airs and graces to lull you into a false sense of safety. You decided to get a snack, party because you were hungry and party because the run down station looked like it wasn’t receiving much love nor income.

As you browsed the isles your eyes landed on a figure crouched infront of the shelf. Short Soft brown curls tied with a ribbon laid across freckle spattered shoulders. White linen sundress laid gently against his large frame. Arms strong and thick with a fair amount of dark hair. Oh yeah, you were absolutely getting a snack now.

It turns out the snack isle was where the handsome stranger was working, you were going to talk to her regardless but this was a perfect opportunity. You scan over the different snacks available and take your pick. Coughing to get their attention you make yourself known. “I’m so sorry to bother you whilst you’re working but I just need to grab one of these” you point to the item and reach for it. Bubba being the person he is he decides to be kind and get it for you. You both reach for it and your hands bump. you both jolt back in surprise, pausing for a moment before laughing. The moment is sweet and genuine.

You catch sight of bubba’s gold charm bracelet and motion to it. “Your bracelet is so lovely!! Gold is definitely your colour”. Bubba makes a happy noise at this and flaps their hands in joy. Drayton watches the exchange with a soft smile on his face, his soft spot for his little sibling will always be there.

After this pleasant exchange you make sure to stop by the gas station every time you pass by even if you don’t need anything. Bubba isn’t there all the time, only working there on occasion but you still drop by and make comfortable conversation with Drayton. (You often ask about bubba to)

Eventually after bonding over the span of a few weeks and talking about it with Drayton you work up the courage to ask bubba on a date. Needless to say she’s thrilled and excepts immediately. You end up taking him out to a cute American style diner and the rest is history.

How would bubba’s siblings react to them bringing someone home?

Drayton is the least surprised considering he was basically in on it before you even asked his younger sibling out. He’s the one meeting you at the door before dates and giving you the lecture about driving careful and when to have bubba home. He can’t help it, he’s raised them since they were a kid. He’ll deny being protective with everything in his being if you bring it up though. He’ll be happy to finally have you over, cleaning the house top to bottom, he really likes you and wants this to go well for bubba.

Nubbins would be giddy to meet you, having been hyping bubba up before leaving for the gas station. He’s excited to get to meet the person who has his little sibling smitten. You actually might meet him on the road just before getting to the house. He’ll be scavenging for roadkill when you holler out the car and offer him a ride back to the house. Feel free to ask him a few questions about wooing the rest of his family before you get to the door.

Choptop would tease you and bubba, making her groan in annoyance. You take no offence and laugh with him. Chop will be eager to ask you 1000 questions and show you around the house. He’ll drag you straight to his room to see his record collection. Extra points if your alternative! Doesn’t matter what style, he thinks it’s all cool.

Nubbins and chop will definitely tease the two of you, fake gagging when you’re affectionate with each other in front of them. They might act like it’s gross but they’re actually happy for bubba and like his partner, hoping things go well so they can hang out more.

Grandpa isn’t a man of many words but you get on just fine, the conversations are pretty one sided apart from small smiles you see creep onto his face but he’s nice enough and important to your partner. You always make sure he feels included at dinners and family activities.

Grandma is long gone, but I’m sure she’d like you if she was alive 💀

How does reader fit into the house?

You fit in like a glove! It’s like you’ve known them way longer than you have. Drayton may grumble about having another mouth to feed but he really does enjoy your presence. you bring in your own income which is definitely helpful to repair some faults in the house or farming equipment which is very appreciated. You also help lighten his load with the chores, he’s not as young as he used to be and his joints are proving that. If you see him struggling or it’s a particularly bad day for his back then you’ll offer to take up his share of house chores. You spend evenings in the kitchen together washing up after dinner, listening to the radio together.

Nubbins loves to drag you and bubba out of the house to help look for roadkill, if that’s not your thing then he won’t force you but he’d really love it if you did come, using it as a way to bond. He’ll gift bubba bones and pretty trinkets he finds to make jewellery with. Nubbins has a lot of hair, he loves it when you tie it up for him before he goes out so it keeps out of his face in the Texan heat.

Choptop will spend time with you and bubba listening to his records. It’s always fun when you three chill in chops room covered in tapestry’s and mood lighting, the vibe is comfy and calm and complimented by listening to their favourite radio host/station (hi Stretch and LG!)

You often spend most of your day with bubba after he returns from his morning chores, you have more of a choice in your chores. If your good with animals then you’ll be assigned to helping around the farm and with the care of bubbas pet chicken, bond with your feathery friend enough and they’ll eventually start following you across the farm whilst you work. If you’re better with house work then you’ll be helping do more domestic activities whilst Drayton is running the gas station. Sweeping up, doing laundry and dishes, those kind of things. You also might help bubba tend to grandpa, she really appreciates it because it’s not easy carrying grandpa in his wheelchair down two flights of stairs alone. It also means a lot to them since family is everything and he loves his grandpa more than the world it’s self.

After a day of chores you meet back up and go to rinse off, as much as you love seeing her hot and bothered you don’t enjoy being sweaty and exhausted so you help eachother clean off. A few hours after supper it’s time for bed. to start off with Drayton insisted you sleep in separate beds so “no funny business” occurs. Funny business absolutely occurred despite that. You know you were found out when Drayton banged on the ceiling with a broom and yelled for you to “keep it down if you’re gonna be going at it like animals”. The next morning you both sit at the table red faced, nubbins and chop finding it hilarious. After this you moved into a bigger bed together since sleeping apart didn’t really have a point anymore.

You read to them next to the warm light of your bedside table lamp until your eyelids start to get heavy and the words blur together. You snuggle down into his side and let out a sigh of content. With one last sweet peck on the lips you both drift off.

I hope u liked this! Texas chainsaw massacre is actually a special interest of mine so I adored writing this for u!!

[g0thic-ghost]

Slashers! With a S/O who adores Cats.

AN: Hello! Im back, as you can see. But anyways, we all know that I took a break from Tumblr for a while so I want to greet everyone with a fluff writing! So, please enjoy. Characters being ‘used’: Bubba Sawyer, Billy Lenz.

Warning ⚠️ : Not proof read.

REQUESTS : OPEN.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba had grown to know that you adored cats. Mostly from how you would always get as excited as ever if you saw a cat wondering out in between the two sheds. Or, out in the old water hole drinking from it.. And he found it amusing. Never to judge you from your sudden outbursts of, “Oh my god! Look, Bubba look! .. a cat!” Whilst you pointed out from the window.

Sometimes, he would join in your watchings. Chiseling his butcher knife onto the wooden table and sitting next to you, watching as the little gray cat walks through the dirt and hops through the dead trees.

..Soon enough, Bubba sees that the little gray cats keeps coming more often or stopping by the front door. So he begins to leave out some leftover meat for it, just so he could rush to you. Squealing for you to step out and see the little surprise on the doorstep (how adorable).

Maybe, a few days later the cat gets warmed up to the both of you. Curling up to your hand when you touch its face, licking at the pads of your fingers or even gliding its tail against your wrist. Which just makes you absolutely melt.. “Aghh!— It touched me! It let me pet it, yess”.

Bubba, absolutely adores this little love of cats of yours. And he runs along with it, as he loves to see you smile continuously.

Billy Lenz

Billy never really catched onto your love for cats, as it was confusing to him in a way. “Why.. Why does piggy like cats, more than me?!” was one thing he would always repeat to you. But you would soon explain that you didn’t like or love them more than him, just that you found them cute. (which lead to MORE questions).

Sometimes, he would watch you from afar as you ran your hands through the fur of the chubby white cat that belonged to one of the workers. And would squint at the sight, judging you.

A little while after, he catches himself peeking at the pudgy cat as it walks up the stairs, down the stairs or hopping down from the rails. Meaning, he’s denying the fact he also somewhat finds it cute. To the point he wants to have a feel at it.

One day, as you’re sneaking into the attic. He claws at your arms and pulls you in, begging for you to bring it to the attic and that he wants to pet it .. “Give it! Billy wants to touch it too!”. You had gotten to his soft-spot.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 9: Chop-Top Sawyer (Pumpkin Spice)

Almost to double digit days! This is also officially day two of the Pumpkin spice week which will make much more sense when I post the final masterlist so stay tuned!

Notes: Minors DNI, Porn with a smidge of plot. No pronouns or descriptions of reader used. NSFW. Not really anything to raunchy but it's also Chop-top so proceed at your own risk lol. Kinda off AU really the other thing I changed for story sake is Nubbins being alive. Short and spicy.

"Bobby your brother could walk in!" You screeched at him.

He gave a laugh that more so resembled a witch's cackle before wrapping his arms around and pulling you further down on his lap, subsequently shoving his cock further into your plush walls.

Cock warming was something you and Bobby did often, especially since he got back from Vietnam. It would help calm him down after particularly rough nightmares about his time in war and helped him to shut up after fighting with Drayton. Though you two never had dared to do it with the door unlocked when Nubbins could easily walk in at any moment.

If you didn't know any better you'd think Bobby lied to you that the door was locked just to get your pants off.

"C'mon mama relax! Nubbins ain't gonna come in here and even if he does I'm sure you'll be good and quiet" He breathed into your ear letting out another signature laugh. He jutted his hips sharply into you and continued to laugh at the squeal that was produced from your throat at the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing up against the sweet spot at the deepest point in side of you.

"Chop I swear I'll never you let you do this again if you don't quit it" You snapped at him, him and you both knowing you didn't actually mean it.

He brought a hand up to your chest and rubbed your nipple through your shit while sucking on the pulse point on the side of your neck. You threw your head back and groaned.

Your eyes widened when you heard the oldest Sawyer brother approach the outside of the bedroom door.

"Bobby! Goddamnit Boy are you in there?!" Drayton yelled.

"Better find a way to get him to git before he opens that door mama" Bobby snickered before reattaching his lips to your neck and giving another few random thrusts.

'Bobby I swear to god if you don't answer me right now you'll sleep out in the barn!" Drayton yelled again.

"He's Busy!" You screamed through a moan as Bobby began steadily thrusting back and forth in and out of you. You heard Drayton grumble something about sex crazed young people before he walked away from the door.

Bobby's hands gripped your hips, no doubt leaving figure shaped bruises, and slammed you continually into his girth. You turned your head pressing your face into the dirty mattress to suppress your moans hoping to save a little dignity with his brothers.

"Bobby on my bed again?!" A voice yelled as the door swung open, But Bobby's thrusts didn't stop on account of his brother.

"Godammit Nubbins get the hell out!" Bobby yelled panting from over exerting himself with his thrusts. You suddenly started loosing yourself, not caring that Nubbins was in the room as you began to push your ass back into Bobby to meet his thrusts.

You were chasing your own climax and didn't give a fuck whether Nubbins was in the room or not.

"Y-you also do it on my b-bed, you g-got your own!" Nubbins yelled again seemingly not caring himself that his brother was nearly splitting you open in front of him on his bed none the less. Bobby didn't answer that time focusing on bringing you to your high. You could feel his cock pulsate inside of you and knew he was close too.

The ecstasy washed over you at once, You could feel your walls clench around him while you came as you milked his cock of the creamy warm ropes that shot out into painting your walls white.

"Oh fuck baby" You moaned, Bobby's lips connected back to your neck and his thrusts became erratic trying to give you every last ounce of his cum.

When the world stopped being spotty and you were brought back to earth panting with a grin that matched Bobby's, You lips met as the two of you started to cool down. Only one thing brought the two of you out of your sexed out state. The click of a camera.

"Nubbins Goddamn you!"

And there went tonight's peace in the Sawyer house.

[paradoxproductions]

A pixel bug background!! Intended to be seamlessly tiled. Featuring the following bugs:

A rubber ducky isopod

A garden worm

A dairy cow isopod

A north american leech

A white spotted Sawyer beetle

A carpenter ant

A june beetle

A fire ant

Example of it in use! It is super cute! I recommend you open it in a new tab to clearly see the pixel elements.

Feel free to use as a background on your carrd, spacehey, etc, with credit to my carrd here!

Reblogs preferred over likes, especially if you're gonna use it! | kofi/tipjar