#human pet au

[wausbasementslave]

Human Pet AU with Shockwave but you two are both evil scientists. An evil autistic robot and his evil autistic scientist human pet do evil autistic experiments on the local whale population. (or autobot population) (or any form of life really) "Shockwave look at this fucked up thing I made." Shockwave peeks over to see a decapitated autobot moaning in pain or some shit. "Fascinating." And then you two nuzzle into eachothers faces as several warcrimes take place

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Maybe the Holidays weren't the best time to start a writing blog.

The Rodimus teach a bot to kiss has been slightly delayed but i still wanted to get a couple things out.

IDK if this counts as first contact on top of Human-pet, but one thing is certain, the shiny metal prick known as Sentinel is not a good pet owner.

18+ only Minors DO NOT interact

(Sentinel Prime(TF1) x Human Reader)

Part one

There had been four. Four escaped humans from the alien ship, now wandering an alien planet. Four humans with dwindling supplies, stolen from those who stole you. It felt like hours before you all collapse out of exhaustion. The chose shelter: a rusted out structure that felt like it was built for giants. It sat at the base of a mountain, eerily beautiful and desolate. Had you not been distracted by thoughts of survival and getting home, you might have found it thrilling. Instead it was terrifying, the thought of dying here without ever seeing home, or your loved ones. Or your cat. It felt silly, but you silently hoped someone was taking care of him in your absence.

Time was hard to track. You swore it felt like two earth days would pass for one on this planet. Taking turns sleeping and keeping watch did little to pass the time, and most of them were not fond of small talk. Supplies get lower, temper get higher. Arguments became frequent. The silence after was hard, but even you were not innocent from throwing accusations or anger when it became heated. When someone muttered angrily that at least they hadn't been starving on the ship, a tiny part of you agreed.

Then there were three. The fourth was long gone when the rest of you woke, along with half the supplies. Someone rages, someone cries. Someone stares off emptily. Trust is shaky and supplies are split up. You know it wont stop someone from taking it if they desperate enough.

When you woke to only two, your heart sank. Their supplies left behind. Taken? Left. Can't be sure. The last two huddle together, seeking some sort of comfort and safety. You start to wonder who will be last.

Supplies are desperately low. and neither of you have spoken about it. You're just grateful they still split things and don't seem keen on bashing your head in for the last of it. There is some talk about heading to the mountain. It looks like there is some plant life. Maybe some animals you can eat? Neither of you have the strength to try. Sleeping takes up most of your time. He tells you his name is Stephan.

-

You're woken by being shook and a hand over your mouth. Stephan looks terrified and motions for you to follow him. Running past the two of you are massive deer like.... creature? Things? He drags you after him before you can questions and shoves the two of you into a small crevice.

Heart racing, you wait, and listen. Metal on metal, what sounds like.... voices, but off, almost metallic. Then what sounds like a gun, loud enough to shake the ground. You feel their hand tighten on your wrist. You can just barely see over his shoulder as the metal on metal pounding gets closer and closer. Massive colorful figures pass by. It's not the creatures that had captured you. Humanoid but just as alien. What terrifies you more than the fact there is life on this planet, is the fact they are running from something. What could be bigger than them?

Infront of your hiding spot one of them pulls the other to a stop, leaving them in an unsteady balance. Red lasers scan over the ground. You feel your heart stop, getting a better look. Giant robotic creatures. You wouldn't even come up to their knees! The grip of the big red and blue one slips. The yellow almost falls. Stephan tenses and presses back, pushing you against the wall of your hiding spot.

When the red beams pass over, the big one lets go and the yellow one falls. His gaze falls right on your hiding spot and there is no denying he has seen the two of you. Glowing blue eyes show... surprise?

The others are speaking and his attention is pulled away. You hear voices like scrapping metal and static. giant footsteps. then silence. Stephan waits a long time before he moves forward and you cling to his shirt, wanting to pull him back.

This place is no longer safe, that much is very clear. You rush to get what supplies are left packed up, Stephan is muttering to himself, and you are quietly panicking. There is no time to plan. Just pack and run. But luck just isn't on your side.

"Oh god no..." Stephan sounds defeated, his makeshift bag dropped to the ground. He's starring up and you regret following his gaze to the ships of those who had abducted you.

[petitelepus]

Hi, could I please get TF separated 

Yandere [Con Me] | Merformers [Me as shark-like Neutral Mer] | Cute Humans!AU

SFW and NSFW [I'm 18+]

I'm NB and use they/it pronouns. I'm Demi/Pan and I take a long time to get comfortable with most people. I'm pretty androgynous and average looking, except for a lot of scars, some facial.

I dislike touch unless initiated by me or from trusted friends. I don't take a lot of care of myself, but care a lot about my friends and their health and comfort. My preference is to do things alone, but I tend to overwork myself. I get motivated quickly, but then spiral into long bouts of unmotivation. I have a sleeping disorder that leaves me with very little sleep and I tend to get nauseous. 

I'm very creative and I read and write a lot, but I'm also very stubborn and hot-headed and get envious quickly. I tend to have a wandering mind and I chew on everything, when I think. Beyond fighting sports, I'm otherwise rather lazy. I tend to hyperfixate and I like to collect. When I sleep, I like to sleep in 'nests'. 

Thank you very much. 

Wheeljack is Yandere for you!

It started with a fight, as they usually did with the reckless Wrecker. You were the new Con on Earth and he was a new Bot on Earth, it was only a manner of time when the two of you changed blows.

"Scars are a sign of bravery or cowardness. Which one are yours?" He can tell and separate old scars from new ones and by the way you fight against him he can tell you're one of the rare honorable Cons.

A personality trait he admires and develops an obsession for. Soon enough fighting with you isn't enough for the Wrecker, but he wants to have you all to himself.

So what if you're Decepticon? It doesn't matter to him since he knows that he can change you, and make you an honorary Autobot.

If you try to fight against him, he makes sure to address you as his personal prisoner of war. It doesn't matter to him and if you try anything he can easily roll the blame on you.

Who are they going to believe? You, a sneaky Decepticon, or him, an honorable Wrecker and loyal Autobot?

Some Bots like Arcee are suspicious, but they don't know about the details. Bulkhead backs up Wheeljack for they have been friends for so long that the green Bot can't tell something is wrong. Talk about blind trust.

Wheeljack won't touch you unless you let him to, but it's lonely being a prisoner and isolated from the rest of the world. The other Autobots can't help you because Wheeljack has made sure that you can't be trusted, painting this false image of you.

He offers you his company and is sweet about it. He wants you to only rely on him and only on him. He takes care of you like a proper Conjunx would and offers you presents you can use to write or do something else you might enjoy but that you can't use to try and contact your fellow Decepticons.

If you choose to accept Wheeljack's feelings then he might assure his fellow Autobots that you can be useful to them, but he never lets you out of his sight. He would rather fight every Decepticon in the galaxy rather than let you leave him.

I match you with Megatron!

Shark Mers have a scary reputation among both humans and Mers, but the rumors about them are highly exaggerated. People think you hunt and kill for fun, but you only kill and eat when you need to and never other Mers.

You just want to live life peacefully in solitude and maybe occasionally go to watch fighting rings where more "dominative" Mers fight each other for the privilege to court the "prize" Mers who would carry the sparklings created by winners' and their copulating.

Certain Mers, Sentinel, judge you purely by your species and shun you away, while some know better than to judge anyone based on rumors alone.

Though you do have a bad habit of chewing things with those razor-sharp fangs of yours and it can make other Mers skittish.

Team Prime accepts you as you are, but it might just be too late for them to reach out to you once the damage has been done by Sentinel and other naive Autobots who believed all his accusations.

While Autobots may have forsaken you, the Decepticons approach you and welcome you to join them with arms wide open.

Megatron himself is a huge shark so he assures you that he knows how it feels to be shunned by those Autobots who think they are better than anyone else.

All he wants from you is your loyalty and devotion to Decepticon's cause and if you swear your loyalty to him then you never will go hungry or feel like an outsider ever again.

Soon enough, you have a great number of admirers, all willing to slay and hand you an Autobot of your choice if it meant you would give them a chance to charm you.

But your spark belongs to Megatron, the one and only who accepted you as you were when others shunned you. He knows the itch when you need to bite something, he knows the feeling of being outcasted, and he knows you.

He offers his lair to you so you can rest and sleep in peace, and while he makes sure that you're left alone when you need to rest, there will be a Con or two guarding his lair where you are resting.

In fact, Megatron trusts and honors you enough to choose you as his mate. He knows that the two of you could no doubt create powerful shark Mers to lead future Decepticons to victory if he was to fail, but if you don't want to carry then Megatron will honor your choice.

But if you choose to carry his heir then you will be spoiled beyond belief. Once you are carrying, you will have Megatron's most trusted followers Lugnut and Shockwave look after your well-being. They might argue, but one word from you and they both back up like a couple of small fishes.

You have Megatron by your side and as his mate, your word is as good as his.

Velocity is your Owner!

Humans were a whole new thing for this new Doctor and once she saw the pictures that her friend Nautica showed her, she decided to get one for herself as a present for passing her exams!

That's how she got you.

You're a little different from the humans she saw in videos, but she doesn't mind it. She thinks you're cute and does her research when you tell her how you should be addressed so you would be happy in the future.

Velocity shows concern about your scars and wishes she could mend them, but you don't seem to mind them so neither does she. You're gorgeous to her as you are.

Her honesty is a little offputting at first, but you can tell she is genuine with her compliments so you warm up to her pretty quickly. She is the only Bot or person in general who can touch you.

When Velocity isn't feeling good or is sad you are always there for her, wiping those tears away and offering yourself for her like a therapy human. She honestly thinks you are a blessing at those times when she just wants to lock herself in her habsuite and sulk.

The Bot is eager and happy to provide you anything you might want or need since humans' stuff aren't that expensive. If you want to read something she downloads it to your own datapad and gives you a keyboard if you want to write. If you let her, she would love to read your stories. She is your biggest fan and supporter.

Velocity would try her hardest to make sure you're comfortable and able to sleep well. She can get you some medicine, but mostly she buys you tons of soft pillows and different blankets, normal and weighted, that she lets you arrange into a nest where you can actually sleep peacefully.

You are so cute when you turn a little envious if Velocity pays more attention to someone else than you and when asked about it, you stubbornly try to deny that you were ever jealous.

Velocity tries to spend as much time with you as it's possible, but she makes sure to give you also some space so you don't feel smothered. But the best thing that ever happened to her must have been all those times you said her name with that pretty voice of yours.

[envihellbender]

Michael and Gerry petsitting puppy Tim

Characters: Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker

Verse: the Magnus Archives, human pet au (Tim is a half human half canine pet owned by John and Martin.)

—

“Instructions for taking care of Tim,” Gerry began, flicking through the booklet John and Martin had given them when they dropped him off to be looked after for a few days. He was lounging on the sofa whilst Michael was sat on the floor next to Tim who was laid on his large dog bed, stretched out smiling with Michael rubbing his belly. Tim’s eyes were half lidded, a smile on his face as if he’d reached peak contentment. “I think John is taking this a little far, you know.”

“Well, they’ve not left him before. And he’s not very good at being alone,” Michael pointed out. “And he’s such a good handsome boy,” he added to Tim, who gave a little content bark in response.

“Wow, this guy eats better than we do,” Gerry said before clearing his throat. “For breakfast, he likes bacon, sausages, and/or eggs - his favourite is scrambled. For lunch, usually we give him bread, cheese, and some sliced meat, and sometimes he has sausage rolls or a steak slice from Greggs. For dinner, he’ll basically have what we’re having. He gets a sweet treat once after dinner. Do not give him: anything too spicy - it makes him sick, or too many snacks in between - I have given you the maximum amount of jerky and lardons to give him over three days. Portions are the same as you would give yourself.”

“Wow, who’s a gourmet puppy,” Michael said, giving Tim scratches behind the ear.

“Oh, he’s given us money to cover it,”

“Do you want some treats?” At this Tim’s two ears perked up, at one point they were hidden from how overgrown and dishevelled his hair was. Now his waves are much neater and his two reddish ears pointed up and flopped a little at the top.

“I dunno, we’ve only got a limited-” Before Gerard could finish, Michael had grabbed the jerky from Tim’s bag. Tim spun onto his knees his eyes lit up as Michael threw the treat a few feet away causing Tim to run after it, grabbing it in his mouth and wagging his thick reddish tail.

“Okay but-” Gerard began as Michael threw Tim another. Gerard sighed and kept flicking through the booklet. “Apparently he humps things and if he does we’re supposed to tell him to go fuck his toy or one of his teddies depending on if he is just scratching or wants to fuck something.”

“I dunno, he’s pretty. I’d be okay with him humping my leg,” Michael said as he looked at Tim’s green eyes and defined cheekbones. When he came back to him after fetching the jerky he stroked his back where the red fur met his pale skin.

“We are not sending him back to John and Martin twenty pounds heavier and humping everything in sight,” Gerard frowned. Tim looked at him with a tilted head before bounding over to him and jumping on the sofa. He patted at his arm with his hands that were folded over like paws, Gerard put an arm around him and scratched his back. “Wait, are you allowed on the furniture?” He asked flicking through the booklet.

“He is now,” Michael grinned.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.

He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:

Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.

Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.

If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.

If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.

Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.

Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.

[tesscourtes]

drawing the cheesiest billford kisses this town has ever seen

[s0fter-sin]

vampire au where they can only drink the blood type they were before they were turned. other blood has an almost poisonous effect, burning them from within like acid and drinking too much of it can kill them

in the old days, before the knowledge of blood types, it made humans they could feed on absolutely precious. they're kept safe, pampered and doted on; a vampire’s most prized possession

attacking another vampire's human is seen as the highest insult; not only is it a slight against them, it also carries the implication of "i want you to starve"

it's also used as the cruelest of punishments; starving a vampire for months, until they're feral with hunger just for their torturer to throw in a random human, watching them desperately suck down poison, their instincts begging them to keep drinking even as it kills them

ghost is one of the few who survived it; thrown in a pit so deep, he saw stars in the middle of the day, left with nothing but the dried bodies of the humans roba drained without care, others with their throats slit, blood he can't drink spilled out around them

a taunt of the one thing he needs but will never get

but ghost hasn't survived this long just to give up here

he refuses to die in this stinking, rotted pit

ghost is a force of nature as he descends over roba's manor; killing any who wander into his path until the halls run red. until he gets his hands on roba and tells him a secret:

vampires can feed on the blood of any vampire, regardless of blood type

it becomes a legend in vampire high society; if you starve another, you'd best make sure they actually die

otherwise you might end up piled in a dining room, the vampire you left for dead lounging on a throne of corpses with his fangs lodged in your throat

ghost decimates roba's empire, burning it to the ground until no one dares to speak his name in fear of incurring his wrath. it's incredibly taboo for a vampire to feed off another but ghost's too powerful for anyone to challenge him and the other vampires are too scared to try. scared of what he's willing to do, the lengths he'll go to; not that they'll ever admit it

soap is the first human he ever brings to court; delicately bathed in the finest silks and jewels, his throat always bare so he can show off ghost's ownership, his bite framed in lace

he's not like the delicate waifs the other vampires show off; he doesn't cling to his master, demure and submissive. he shows off his teeth as often as any vampire, fully willing to rip out the throats of any who insult him or ghost

a feral master needs a just as feral pet

[amielot]

Touch starved.

[mansitapie]

Iggy like human👀

A former gang member and thief who bothered the streets of Manhattan and later redeemed himself after Abdul took him out of police arrest and then saw Abdul as Big brother, father and friend

And Pet shop like human🦅🦅🦅🔥

Pet shop, a native American who is mute and only communicates in signs, sought wealth and power, guiding himself to Lord Dio, who gave him an office in his mansion to later be his apprentice like a brother or son

[krysmcscience]

Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)

This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)

I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)

Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!

Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!

He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!

Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.

Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:

I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao

Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)

Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:

He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.

To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.

Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)

A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~

The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D

No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.

I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:

He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)

And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:

Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:

Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)

whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now

I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE

[lunamugetsu]

Bring your sidekick to work day!

Inspired by the "What if Question was the one who saves Danny from GIW?" post that I made awhile ago.

Bring your sidekick to work day!

It was a tradition that started around the time multiple superheroes were taken on sidekicks. Everyone in the league knew why they'd bring their sidekicks to work. Their sidekicks get to socialize with peers their own age and they could properly introduce themselves to other heroes.

So it was a surprise when The Question, the league's faceless conspiracy theorist, offhandedly mentioned that he'll be bringing his sidekick to work while telling them about what new information he's found about Cadmus and another new government agency he thought they should start looking into.

The heroes found it hard to believe.

Question has a sidekick.

Surely they must have misheard.

No way that guy would want a sidekick, let alone get a sidekick.

When "Bring your sidekick to work day" arrived everybody was prepared to see the heroes and sidekicks.

Superman with Superboy

Batman and his 10+ kids

Wonder Woman and Wonder Girl

Flash and Kid Flash

The list went on

The heroes all mingle before realizing that they haven't seen Question. Maybe they did mishear the man? Or Question got his words mixed up?

That was until the computer announced the arrival of Question and a guest that was unidentified.

They all turn around to see the faceless trench coat wearing investigator followed by a tinier faceless trench coat wearing kid. The kid was practically a clone of Question, except...tinier.

"This is my sidekick. Who." Question points to the faceless kid

Flash: Who?

"That's me!" the kid says pointing to himself.

"Why don't you acquaint yourself with the others." Question tells his sidekick who just nods and goes off to introduce himself with the others kids.

Batman: I didn't take you one for having a sidekick.

Question: I could say the same for you. And the sidekick thing just kind of happened. The kid wouldn't leave me alone and I couldn't let the kid get himself into any trouble.

Batman: Understandable

Meanwhile with the sidekicks.

Everybody's asking Who various questions about Question and how he met the man. They barely know anything about the guy.

Question 1: What's the deal with your name?

Who: It's a work in progress. Since my mentor's name is Question. I figured my name should be like a question.

Question 2: How do you eat?

Who: I shove food into my face

Question 3: Where's your face?

Who: Wouldn't you like to know

Question 4: Do you know about his conspiracies?

Who: Of course I know about his conspiracies! I'm one of them

Other sidekicks: What?

After some talking, the sidekicks get along with each other very well. When they reunite with their mentors the computer rings stating that John Constantine was coming along with a guest.

The heroes then all watched as a girl with white hair and green eyes wearing a trench coat and was dragging John Constantine by his sleeve. She grins and introduces herself as Dani with an "i" and that she's John's apprentice.

Dani then spots Who and they immediately do the Spider-man point at the other meme

Who (Danny): you got a trench coat mentor too?!

Dani: Where's your face?!

[butchriptide]

I've seen people make human AUs and equate Winter's scavenger fascination with being like. a crazy cat person. and while that is really good and I do think Winter would and should be crazy about cats, I do think like... if you are going to give him an equivalent interest you gotta go nicher than that. Like, being a Cat PersonTM is a thing like half the population identifies at. You GOTTA go stranger. He needs to be regularly attending reptile conventions. He needs to daydream about owning a praying mantis. He needs to yell at underpayed PetSmart workers about how small the fish tanks are that they keep the bettas in. He needs to be offered the chance to hold a snake and he needs to talk to that snake like he's greeting the queen. He needs to show you photos of tarantulas please please please look at his pictures please of his tarantulas

[petitelepus]

Hiii!! Requesting a TFP Normal and Humans Are Cute!AU matchup! Autobot or Decepticon is fine!

Appearance: female, short, long brown hair, green eyes, chubby, a September Virgo

Sexuality: straight, cis

Likes/Interests: history, true crime, weird medical cases, zoology, 2000’s pop, techno music, nature, thunderstorms, biology, reading, silence, writing, drawing, vintage horror movies, dry humor, antique stuff.

Personality: Very shy but once comfortable, I become more outgoing, loud, passionate and talk alot about interests but like to have days where I keep to myself. I like to keep to myself but sometimes I yearn to connect with others but I don’t know how as I’m not very good at socializing. I am timid and easy to pushover but I may argue back. Hate conflict, don’t want any. I prefer companionable silence over talking. Tend to think with my emotions but I try to think logically. I believe actions speak louder than words.

My love language is: Mainly quality time, acts of services and words of affirmation. Sometimes physical touch like hugs and resting head on them.

Dislikes/Fears: the dark, being stalked, bugs, people quick to anger, close-mindedness, people who think they know everything about something/someone but actually don't know shit. Entitlement. People who portray themselves to be good natured but are actually awful. People who preach a change but don’t bother to do anything about it. Most people in general tbh.

I match you with Dreadwing!

This Decepticon warrior might just be the most loyal and honorable Con there actually is. He takes notice of you on the battlefield, lost and scared and not an Autobot in sight so he makes the decision to grab you and take you to Nemesis with him. At least there you would be safe until he figured out what to do with you.

…But the blue con didn't expect to fall for you. You may be a human and shy one, but you're unnaturally… Cute to him. Maybe returning you home can wait for a day or a week or two?

Dreadwing makes sure you are comfortable and gives you time if you want or need it and slowly you start to warm up to him.

He is interested in you and wants to know more about you and he doesn't miss how you smile brighter when you talk about your interests such as music, history, vintage horror, and so much more. Dreadwing doesn't know that much about Earth so he asks you to teach him, a task you accept happily.

Do you believe actions speak louder than words? That's a good saying and Dreadwing himself believes in it also. He has proven to you that he cares about you and you have shown that you aren't just an ordinary human but you can see further.

He is gentle and careful with you, never raising his voice with you around him. If you ever feel like just being with him in comfortable silence he nods and enjoys your silent company.

When the two of you take your relationship to the official level, Dreadwing makes sure to always bring you something nice when he visits the Earth and he tells you every day how he loves you and how much you mean to him.

You perfectly described Starscream when talking about your dislikes and the blue Con honestly returns the feelings. He doesn't trust Starscream one bit, but he works for Megatron, to who Dreadwing's loyalty belongs, and because of that he can't hurt Starscream.

But if that schemer ever tries anything with you, Dreadwing doesn't hold back anymore. Your safety comes before Starscream's well-being.

Shockwave is your Owner!

At first, Shockwave paid no mind to humans. They were just pests living off as parasites on Earth, on Unicron's body.

When he first saw you, he was going to ignore you and be on his way and continue his experiments, but then he thought about it...

The Autobots seem to thrive with human pets of their own so maybe having you as Shockwave's pet would increase his work ethic and better yet produce superior results?

With that in his mind, he turned, picked you up, and took you back to Nemesis with him.

You are shy and quiet and he doesn't mind it one bit, but he soon understands that he should not underestimate you.

For a human, you are very observant of your surroundings and you can make realistic assumptions based on the information you're given.

Shockwave will give you things to keep you occupied and from growing bored or even dull. He gives you things to use like a computer but enables it so you can't request help. Pet or not, even those can bite the hand that feeds them.

Arguments don't happen between the two of you. Shockwave has made it clear to you that he is the dominant one and that you are his pet. Your job is to be there for him and in return, he takes care of you.

Despite being emotionless, there are times when the Decepticon scientist does compliment you. Like, he reads one of your stories and admires your grammar or he compliments your drawing technique.

He very rarely does this, but once in a while, he will nod at you, "You have performed well given the time you had in your arsenal. You have earned yourself a chance to request a meal and dessert of your own choice for today."

Yes, he uses compliments, stuff, and food to reward you.

Shockwave will punish you if you misbehave. He thinks that the best way for a pet, for you to learn what is right and what is wrong is by punishing you when you act badly.

He will scold you, but if you don't take a hint and apologize then he will take a more extreme approach and locks you in a dark closet until you are begging for his forgiveness.

Shockwave holds tight discipline, as his rewards and punishments are both extreme, but they do show clear results. Do as he says and play along and you will be taken good care of.

[envihellbender]

John and Martin going to buy puppy Tim

Characters: Jonathon Sims, Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives)

Content: Human pet AU, parental abuse and neglect

—

PUPPYWHORE FOR SALE

INTACT DOGBOY

25 YEARS OLD

PERFECT AS A PLEASURE TOY, ALREADY BROKEN IN BUT VERY SKILLED

ANSWERS TO TIM

£2000 OR BEST OFFER

There is a photograph of a terrifyingly skinny pale human canine, his dirty blond hair was tangled almost making his ears unnoticeable. He was curled up asleep on an unkempt lawn, a rope around his neck was tied to a thick wooden stake that had been hammered into the ground. He was naked except for some white, greying from age briefs. He was bruised and scarred. His long thick tail that was varying shades of blond and brown curled up with his legs.

Martin was rereading the advert as they drove to the address in the East End of London that Wes Stoker (owner and possible father of Tim) had given them. When they offered £2000 upfront, Wes hadn’t even questioned what they wanted him for. He didn’t ask for any further information, when Martin had said he and his boyfriend wished to purchase him (the phrasing of which made Martin feel sick to his stomach) all Wes had send in return is “so long as you’ve got the cash I don’t care what you fags do with him.”

“Martin! I need Directions,” John all but shouted, throwing Martin out of his racing, spiralling thoughts.

“Oh. Sorry. Right,” Martin mumbled opening Google Maps.

“It’s fine. But I asked five times.” John was attempting to be sympathetic, ever since they’d seen the terrifying advert they’d both been on edge.

“Right I’m just… nervous. We take a right on Baldwin Avenue.” Martin said quickly, he hated giving directions. He tried to focus on the app and the instructions it was giving, but it was all blurry and uncertain.

“Yeah I know, but rereading that…” John sighed as he turned, repressing the urge to blow up over the callous and disgusting advert. “It won’t help. It’s a blessing and a curse that it was so little. It wasn’t even half of my savings, we’ll be fine. And we have plenty of room. So. He’ll be safe with us. Luckily we picked him up and not- not someone who…” John’s voice trailed off, grateful when Martin spoke.

“Yeah I just… do you think he’ll be-“ He began, before John suddenly had a reason to interrupt him and change the subject.

“Martin. Which way do I go. T junction.”

“Right! Right on Granger Lane and then it’s your second left and it’s… on your right. Can’t miss it apparently.”

“Do I think he’ll be what, my love?” John repeated absently.

“Angry? When he sees we’re there as more of a, erm, rescue mission?”

“Honestly from how he sounded on the phone I don’t think he cares.”

“Oh.”

“Right we’re here.” John opened the glove compartment and took out a large wad of cash held together by an elastic band. Martin finally looked away from his phone and when he saw the image his heart sank. Tim was in the same position as he was on the photo, curled up on a lawn, shivering and half starved, but with a small carrier bag next to him. John was still locking the car when Martin slipped out and all but ran to Tim. Who jolted up in fright and backed away eyeing him suspiciously, doing a nervous yelp. Martin froze and knelt down trying to look as passive as possible.

“Hey hey hey, sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a friend, see?” Martin held out his hand, palm faced outward and Tim slowly inched closer. He sniffed Martin’s hand and nudged it with his nose. When Martin went to scratch his ears Tim leant away, he wasn’t ready for that yet. It was John who knocked on the door, and when a balding man in a stained white vest and black trousers answered the door Martin used up all his restraint and energy ensuring he didn’t scream at him.

“Hello, yes, I’m Jonathon Sims. We spoke on the phone.”

“So you’re the fags who are going to take this runt whore away,” Wes grunted before lighting a cigarette. Martin scowled but John kept some decorum.

“Here’s your payment. You can count it if you like,” John said politely, handing a thick wad of cash. Wes snatched it and flicked through before nodding.

“You gave your name and address, I’ll be sure to come round if there’s anything amiss.” John flashed Martin a warning glare as he could feel him getting more and more frustrated next to him.

“So this is all of his things?” Martin said pointedly looking at the carrier bag, John took a deep breath. Martin deliberately didn’t look at him.

“What things?” Wes snorted. “Few pairs of underpants and that’s about it. What else does a mutt need?”

“A bed, toys, blankets, jumpers, coats, food bowls-”

“Sleeps in the yard, and eats scraps off the floor like a mutt’s s’posed to.”

“We can take it from here, Mister Stoker,” John said quickly before Martin could continue the battle. Wes threw a glare at Martin which was returned rather intensely before Wes untied the rope and tugged it roughly forcing Tim forward.

“Come on, runt. You’re someone else’s problem now,” Wes growled, Tim struggled and whined, pale and shaking. Before Martin could react John took a step forward and pulled the rope from Wes’s unsuspecting hands, standing between him and Tim.

“I would thank you not to mistreat my dog, Mister Stoker.” John said curtly. He kept a relaxed hold on Tim’s lead and stared directly into Wes’s face until he backed down and mumbled something about ‘faggots’ and ‘no refunds’. John turned back round to see a curious Tim looking at him with a tilted head. He shuffled over and nudged the hand that held his “lead” and gave it a lick. Instinctively, John took the rope from around his neck and discarded it next to the pathetic carrier bag. They didn’t need any of the humiliating scraps Wes had given them.

“Are you sure it’s safe without a leash?” Martin asked anxiously as John rested one hand on Tim’s back as he nervously approached the car.

“He doesn’t like it,” John answered. “He was really not going to go anywhere with it.”

“Yeah. From what I’ve seen of puppy body language videos he was not pleased I just-”

“Martin can you-”

“Oh! Sorry.” Martin opened the back passenger side door to show Tim the nest they made him in the car. Tim look uncertainly between them.

“Come on, Tim, jump in,” Martin said, patting the seats. Tim sniffed at the door and the chair, before awkwardly climbing in. The backseats had been pushed down to create a flat, generous space. They’d covered it in blankets and cushions to make a comfortable space. Tim immediately began burying his face into the blankets rolling around on his back. When the doors were shut and he was left alone he froze and sat up, he was whining when John and Martin got into the car.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Martin soothed, he turned round and put his hand out, letting Tim lean over and give it another sniff and this time a lick. Martin gave Tim some scratches behind the ear which made his tail wag a little. “I don’t think he wants us to leave him.”

“We won’t leave him. Not ever,” John said decisively, as he was about to leave he noticed someone running towards the car. They had long blonde hair, they looked similar to Tim but taller and much healthier looking, their bones weren’t sticking out of their face. They were waving trying to get their attention. Martins rolled the window down and looked at them suspiciously.

“Can I help you?”

“I- Can I say goodbye to my brother, please? I know he’s yours now. Just a quick goodbye. Through the window,” they rambled. Before Martin could reply, Tim began to yelp like he was struggling to say a word.

“Kwa-kw- kwinn,” he barked. Martin and John exchanged a look but John used the main window controls to lower the window. Not enough for Quinn to reach through but enough for Tim to hear them.

“Hey bro. I love you. I know you’ll be happier with these guys,” they reassured with a charming smile. “I’ll come visit, okay?” Quinn backed away from the car, nodded to Martin them ran back to the house. Tim curled up in the blankets, whining a little as he did so.

“I know you’ll miss them,” Martin began after a few moments of silence as John began driving them home. Now that the anxiety of picking up Tim had gone, it was the panic of keeping him healthy and happy that was sinking in. “But we’ll take good care of you, promise.” Tim seemed to understand. He began chewing on a cushion and curled up quite happily, it was the warmest and comfiest he’d ever been… and it was nothing compared to his new home itself.

[clownsuu]

Some mob Dusty doodles cause m a n

A very gentle mans smhhhhh, however they do take their job very seriously when it comes to thieves and intruders (they guard the Vaults for a reason after all)