#my favorite bobcat

[caustic-x]

Bobcats’ pretty medic

[salemripley]

BONKERS MOOD LOOK AT THE BOBCAT HE’S SILLY!!!

[escapingpurgatory]

my favorite animals pt.1

mouse loon crow

lynx duck bobcat

dog deer rabbit

[t00nified]

He can't get out of my head

[delicatefury]

Dude. Raccoons. We have wonderful little trash pandas. No one else has raccoons.

Look at these guys!

And cardinals! I love cardinals. These bright red little birds.

Flying jewels are what they are.

Bobcats. Nuff said.

Foxes! We have the largest true foxes in the world.

River otters!

I love our native animal life so much

Also, not an animal, but Venus fly traps are from the Carolinas.

look at me. listen to me. this is directed at americans for the record. the reason you think North American animals are boring is because you live here. there are so many cool and beautiful animals here. we have beavers. we have wolves. we have moose. we have sea lions. we have armadillos. we have mountain lions. we have alligators. we have foxes. we have bighorn sheep. we have manatees. we have bears. we have ocelots. we have BISON. and that’s not even touching on the birds! or the turtles! or the snakes! we have amazing beautiful and diverse wildlife right here and it deserves to be appreciated and protected

[vandme12]

Hello it’s my bday today!!! Can I request a silly/dumb reader (like the type to hug a lion or a bobcat just because it looks cute) with all LI?

(Or if you’re too lazy do V?)

LOVE UR WORK BTWWW

Happy birthday!! Since, Your birthday why not both!!! (I'm a softie) I wrote this as fast, As I can..

🩸 Ronin (Devil’s Butcher)

First reaction? Oh, he lives for this. You’re a walking disaster, and it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen since his last murder.

"Aww, babe, you got a death wish? Cuz I do take requests."

Absolutely encourages your reckless behavior—until it puts you in actual danger. You try to pet a rabid dog? He’ll be cheering you on until the thing growls. Then it’s dead. No hesitation.

Thinks it’s adorable when you lack basic survival instincts. You see a bloodstained, locked door? You wanna open it. He lets you—he’s already behind you with a knife in case anything nasty jumps out.

Calls you "his favorite little idiot" with the fondness of a man whose entire schedule now revolves around making sure you don’t die stupidly.

If you ever try to hug him while he’s covered in blood, he just sighs���loudly—but lets you do it. "You are so lucky I think you're cute, sweetheart."

⚖️ V (Vigilante)

Immediate panic. He cannot handle you. He thought his biggest problem was the killers, and now he’s got to keep you from hugging wild predators because they look "fluffy."

Constantly muttering under his breath, “How have you survived this long?”

If you wander off? Expect to be fitted with a tracker. No, you don’t get a choice. He will not let you die on his watch.

Will catch you mid-air if you try to jump into a lion enclosure. His grip is bruisingly tight, and you can feel his pulse pounding. "You are going to give me a stroke."

Despite his exasperation, he becomes weirdly attached to your ridiculousness. If anyone else calls you dumb, though? They die. You’re his idiot, and he’ll be damned if anyone else gets to disrespect you.

"For the love of—stop touching the corpse."

💋 Angel (Heartsick Angel)

Angel’s a perfectionist—you stress her out. She loves you, but you are the reason she has headaches.

"Darling, why would you touch the live wires?"

Always keeps an eye on you because she knows you’ll wander off into danger if left unsupervised for five minutes. She won’t let you die—but she will lecture you after.

Any time you flirt your way out of trouble, she swoons. "Okay, I’ll admit, you’re adorable. Dumb, but adorable."

She definitely posts cute, dumb things you do on her social media. You trip over a curb? That’s going viral.

Absolutely melts when you hug her out of nowhere—even if it’s while she’s disposing of a body. "Sweetheart, there’s brain matter on my shoe—oh, come here, I can’t be mad at you."

🔪 Misaki (Quirky Hitman)

They love your energy. You are the human embodiment of a raccoon in a trash can, and Misaki finds it hilarious.

"Babe, babe—no, don’t poke the guy I just shot—oh my God, you’re so cute."

Zero judgment when you make bad decisions; they usually encourage it. You wanna hold a cobra? They’re already taking pictures.

Probably pulls stupid stunts with you. You’re climbing the fence to pet an ostrich? Misaki’s already halfway over.

But if something actually dangerous happens—like, real danger—they flip in a heartbeat. You’ve never seen them move that fast. "Okay, sweetheart, maybe no cuddling the angry biker. Let’s bounce."

Gives you gifts like child safety leashes and a helmet. "Just in case, babe~."

Extra! Special One-shot!!! Since, It's your birthday!!

A Small V Wishing You Happy Birthday

You wake up to the sound of something rustling outside your bedroom door. It’s soft, barely there, but distinct enough to pull you from sleep. You groggily glance at your phone—6:42 AM. Too early for any sane person to be awake.

Another rustle. Then a barely audible mutter.

Your brain is still foggy, but as you blink against the dim morning light, the pieces come together. That voice—muffled and hesitant—sounds a lot like V.

The realization jolts you fully awake. V isn’t the type to show up unannounced, much less lurk awkwardly outside your door. He’s too methodical, too controlled. You’d expect a text, maybe a late-night voicemail with a clipped “Happy birthday.” Something distant, impersonal.

But this?

You slide out of bed as quietly as possible and pad over to the door. When you open it, you’re met with the sight of V standing stiffly in the hallway, holding a small, hastily wrapped box in both hands. The paper is slightly crinkled, unevenly folded—like he struggled with it for an embarrassingly long time.

You stare at each other.

V clears his throat, adjusting the high collar of his coat. “You’re awake.”

You arch a brow. “You’re here.”

His jaw twitches. “It would seem so.”

A beat of silence. Then he shoves the box at you, a little too forcefully, like he’s eager to get this over with. You barely manage to catch it.

“Happy birthday.”

It’s so… flat. So stiff. So very V that you can’t help but smile. “Thanks,” you say, turning the box over in your hands. “Should I open it now?”

His shoulders tense. “If you must.”

You take your time peeling away the wrapping—partially because you want to annoy him, partially because you’re genuinely curious about what V could have possibly gotten you. When you finally get to the box inside and lift the lid, you freeze.

Nestled in the packaging is a sleek, custom-made knife.

Your breath catches. It’s beautiful—elegant but functional, the kind of weapon that feels balanced the moment you pick it up. The hilt is engraved with something small, almost imperceptible at first glance. You squint at the delicate script.

It’s your name.

Hand-etched.

Your stomach flips. “V…”

He exhales sharply, as if bracing himself. “It’s a tactical knife. Durable. Efficient. I tested it myself.”

Of course, he did.

You run your thumb over the engraving, heart thudding against your ribs. “You… got me a knife with my name on it?”

V shifts his weight, crossing his arms. “You’re careless.”

You blink.

“You’re reckless,” he continues, as if reciting a list of grievances. “You attract danger. You make ill-advised choices. It’s—” He pauses, inhaling sharply. “It would be inconvenient if something happened to you.”

Your grip tightens around the knife. Inconvenient. That’s what he says, but his face tells a different story. His usual rigid composure is there, but his eyes… They betray something else. Something raw and unspoken.

He cares.

V cares enough to be here, to give you something this personal, to mask his concern with clipped words and sharp edges.

Your chest warms.

“V,” you say, softer this time. “Thank you.”

He glances away, uncomfortable with the weight of your gratitude. “… Don’t mention it.”

You don’t press him. Instead, you flip the knife in your hand, testing its weight. “So, when do I get a lesson on how to use it?”

V huffs. “You already lack self-preservation. Do you intend to make my life more difficult?”

You grin. “Absolutely.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue. Instead, he mutters something about bad decisions and getting dressed before training.

You’ve had a lot of birthdays, but somehow, this might be your favorite.

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

This video by Alex Hera is also a very interesting dive into the history of the internet horror culture that spawned analog horror and what defines it as a genre:

somebody please explain what analog horror is as a genre, like what are the bullet points that distinguishes it from found footage, is it even fair to consider them related genres or is anything analog horror as long as you slap a grain filter over it

[rockscanfly]

@noshirdalal's (Charles Smith's actor from RDR2) response to the prompt: "What do you think would have happened if Jack Marston’s bounty poster had come across Sadie and Charles’ desk post-epilogue? What, if anything, would Charles have to say to Jack?"

I trimmed the video for length (damn you, tumblr), but you can find the full 15 minute version on Cameo (where all y'all should go chuck your Charles questions as soon as you get a chance) here.

As usual, Noshir blew me away with the depth and care in his response. His headcanons are one of my absolute favorite part of being in the RDR2 fandom. Highlight from the transcript:

I like to think that Charles would have—and I imagine Sadie would to, but Alex would know better—I like to imagine that Charles would have taken the time to try to find him. To learn the kind of man that Jack has become.  I can imagine Jack sitting at a bar somewhere, I mean drinking whiskey or something and noticing a really large [laughs]. A really large man sitting kind of also at the bar but much further down just watching him. I think depending on what was going on I’d like to think that if Jack was in trouble at the time Charles would try to help him. Because he, ‘cause he has to.  But I can also see him watching John—I mean watching Jack from a distance. Getting the measure of the man. Helping him when he can, anonymously. You know if there are bounty hunters or enemies that are following him maybe he thins the herd a little bit. Betters Jack’s chances. But maybe he almost doesn’t have the heart to actually say hello.  There’s also something to be said for the idea that a man pays his debts. But also, like Charles has to recognize that Jack is a grown man. And a man also walks his own path. I can’t hold his hand, I can’t change the past. And who am I to know that the path that Jack is on is wrong? Would it be fair for me to try to deprive him of the justice he seeks?  Man, I don’t know. But it would hurt Charles, real bad. I think that would hurt him real bad. That's a wound he would carry to his grave. 

Links to other Cameos and transcripts that Noshir has completed in the past can be found here.

Full transcript of full vid below the cut:

What's up, Rocks? Hope you’re doing well. Sorry, it's getting down to the wire and I’m just, just got back a little while ago from Manchester in the UK and just getting home from VO [Voice Over] Atlanta [2025]. So I’m teaching a performance capture class there so I’ve got like a handful of minutes left to get this in so I’m trying to get it in and not have it fall through. So. 

Rocks always asking the [chuckles], the thought provoking questions. So. What happens when a poster of Jack Marston comes into my possession when Charles and Sadie are—in my headcanon—collecting bounties, kinda working together?

Well, I think the first thing that Charles would do is share it with Sadie. You know, Sadie and Charles are there with John when he—when WE think we’re bringing resolution to all this strife. When we think we’re kind of closing this circle and hopefully bringing the cycle of violence to a close for the Marston family. 

I think Charles and Sadie—I’m not gonna speak for Alex, or Sadie—but I would have to imagine. I would like to think they mourn together and also mourn in their own ways. 

I don’t know if it actually made it into the game, but there was, really early on in my sessions I had, like, hours of performance capture with the young, young actor playing, like, super young Jack. Taking him through basic tracking stuff, you know, the difference between a raccoon’s tracks versus a, you know a bobcat. A mountain lion’s tracks versus, you know, various deer and bear and stuff. And I think a little bit of—I remember I researched, like you know, traps made of like rope and stuff you could find like out in the wilderness, deadfalls and stuff like that. I don’t remember if we actually did that stuff but like. 

I think the gang…Jack is kind of like the gang’s son, right? Hosea like teaches him the importance of knots by like hiding it in, like, teaching him how to fish. I think everyone kind of came together to try to equip Jack with the things he would need to know to survive while still trying to celebrate the fact that he’s a kid even in these hard times. 

I haven’t played either of the games but I’ve seen images of Jack from the end of Red Dead. I didn’t really think much of it but now looking at those images as Charles, like through the eyes of Charles—how heartbreaking, I think that would be for him. 

To know that. To know that John tried so desperately to create, to create a home for his family, right? For Jack to grow up not knowing a life on the run full of violence. He really tried to go legit. And you know, Uncle and I helped him build that house from nothing. 

That house I think was kind of the symbol of the closing of that chapter. The idea that things can begin anew, that if we’re willing to put in the work that we can have a fresh start. That we are not chained, you know, like ouroboros. Like we are not bound to this never ending cycle. If it isn't a life that we want to live. 

And, you know, my best friend…was dying, but his last moments were hard in effort to give John—and through John, Jack—hope for a peaceful life. 

And, I mean the look on adult Jack’s face? He’s so angry. He’s so angry and so hard. And I think these are hard times and there’s lots of hard men and hard women as a result: survivors. [Looks off at a car making obnoxious noise] [quietly] For fuck’s sake. 

But, um. But even if it was naive or wishful thinking or just ridiculous hope—I think Charles wanted so badly for things to be different for Jack. Especially because I think Charles leave the Marstons feeling so good about the work he’s done. And so proud of his brother John for the work he’s done to reinvent himself, you know?

They had built a place with their own hands that is worthy of bringing John’s wife and son home. They’d built them a home. And to see Jack so angry and so alone after everything that’s been done I think would be really, really hard for Charles. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if Charles has to step away and like spend a week out in the wilderness just to get away from the noise of, the noise and kind of bustle of the every day. And grieve, in his own way. And come to terms with it. 

I mean, I wonder like, the idea of like a wanted poster for Jack Marston—I wonder if like, can you imagine if somehow Charles and Sadie were just blissfully ignorant of everything that happened with John. What a way to learn. But even if they werent, I think this is probably the worst fate they could have imagined for John’s son. For Jack. 

I like to think that Charles would have—and I imagine Sadie would to, but Alex would know better—I like to imagine that Charles would have taken the time to try to find him. To learn the kind of man that Jack has become. 

I can imagine Jack sitting at a bar somewhere, I mean drinking whiskey or something and noticing a really large [laughs]. A really large man sitting kind of also at the bar but much further down just watching him. I think depending on what was going on I’d like to think that if Jack was in trouble at the time Charles would try to help him. Because he, ‘cause he has to. 

But I can also see him watching John—I mean watching Jack from a distance. Getting the measure of the man. Helping him when he can, anonymously. You know if there are bounty hunters or enemies that are following him maybe he thins the herd a little bit. Betters Jack’s chances. But maybe he almost doesn’t have the heart to actually say hello. 

There’s also something to be said for the idea that a man pays his debts. But also, like Charles has to recognize that Jack is a grown man. And a man also walks his own path. I can’t hold his hand, I can’t change the past. And who am I to know that the path that Jack is on is wrong? Would it be fair for me to try to deprive him of the justice he seeks? 

Man, I don’t know. But it would hurt Charles, real bad. I think that would hurt him real bad. That's a wound he would carry to his grave.

[salemripley]

Watching Bonkers again you know what that means Lucky and Bonkers are Bisexual in twenty different posts‼️‼️‼️

[malikonmarz]

ׂ╰┈➤ CONTENT: INCORRECT VICTOR CREED HEADCANONS

Blub blub hi I’m spewing nonsense about my favorite kitty yayyy!!! Some of this stuff is derived from things said in comics (I think, I’m actually really behind on those) and such just with some extra bits on my end 💛🧡🤎

• His favorite colors are yellow, green, and white. He likes white because it looks pretty when it’s stained with red.

• He is blind! Not fully but his vision is especially bad in the morning. The sun isn’t particularly kind on his eyes but this helps his hearing and smelling to be even sharper.

• SWEETS!!!!!!! Anything sweet is to die for. He’s not actually all that picky about food, he’ll eat anything, but sweets? Specifically pastries? Love em.

• First time he ate a little Debbie mini chocolate frosted donut he just about levitated.

• Again with the vision, he’s got night vision! Downside of night vision though is that when his eyes are functional, his other senses become dull. Not too noticeable, but this is Victor so he will have some inner complaints about it.

• Smells like SHIT but he’s cleaner than Logan surprisingly. He only smells that bad to cover his tracks and scent, but he’s really big on grooming himself (he’s a kitty)

• He’s either a Lynx, a Bobcat (virtually the same animal but the paws and face shape are different), or a Cougar. Sometimes, a Lion, a Tiger, or any spotted big cat.

• I say he’s more Lynx like, with an outfit inspired by a lion to make himself look bigger and more intimidating. He’s already fucking huge, but due to trauma (and to look cool) he thinks he NEEDS to seem bigger any way possible to prove to himself that he’s not effected by what happened to him because well, look at how much he’s grown, even though we are CONSTANTLY shown that his childhood greatly affected him, and HE knows that too.

• Drugs don’t work on him (unless he’s hanging out with Wade which then the walking corpse will definitely find a way to get Victor high), BUT, catnip does.

• He actively avoids catnip because he’s not letting anyone see him in such a state.

• Raw meat tastes bests. Seasoning is too much for his tastebuds. Give it to him bloody.

That’s all for now!!!!

[housepartyfortwo]

Am I the only person that kinda likes this? The Hornet's never really get much good rep, so I feel like this partnership could be a good thing. I also really like the chocolate, it's kinda fire in my opinion, but I can see why people dog on it sometimes

well at least north carolina still has college basketball

[allforthegayphase]

Favorite scenes from tgr queen

Put this diva on my tombstone 🪦

But in all seriousness there’s SO MUCH I loved about this book it’d take me days to list them all lol but let’s try and do a quick top 5

5. Adopting Jabberwocky 🐶 that was so cute and a good reprieve from all the angst lol. To quote @zombiecowboy65 Jean was dishonorably discharged from the idgaf war when it came to that dog. He folded so fast

4. The “I’m not learning French for anyone but you” conversation, I was foaming at the mouth the entire time

3. The whole match against the Bobcats. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I legit missed exy lmaooo

2. Jean’s breakdown after Zane’s attack and Rhemann being a good coach father ❤️‍🩹

1. And this. This GUTTED ME, my absolute favorite moment from the entire series I fear

[enviedear]

can you pleaseeee do the reader’s first with billy??

i feel like that man would be a gentle giant 😞🩷

first time with billy bonney...

you asked so nicely i gave you a full fic <3 enjoy 2k words of first time cuteness with our favorite outlaw

tw— 18+ smut, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex, (do better irl) cumming inside

request

billy's charming in the way he helps you off his horse, eyes as bright as the stars above. you let yourself walk with him, hands interlocked and arms brushing together, as you escort him back to your small cabin.

up here, away from the fast-growing town, trees stand tall and animals call out—it's wild out here. so wild in fact, that no one in the gambling den batted an eye when the gunslinger offered to accompany you home. his citation of some recent bobcat attacks being enough to make his sinfully intended sentiment sound as if it were an honorable and gracious one.

of course, not that you gave it any mind. none at all. for as sure as the days are long, it's no question that you've fallen head first for the man on the run. in just a few weeks of his strolling into town, he's managed to endear himself so effortlessly to you.

you watch his slender fingers graze the doorknob of the wooden door, "i can find som'where else to stay tonight, darlin'. if you've changed your mind."

his voice is hushed and you furrow your brows at his admission, "why would i change my mind?" your resolve is unwavering as you look up at him, your stare wrought with permission.

he pushes the door open, letting you step inside first. for a second, you think he may back down, regret his decision at the den, and leave you here alone with only the idea of what could have been.

such thoughts are promptly absolved from your head when he wraps his strong, yet lean, arms around you. his chest becomes flush against you, and you note the prominent bulge pressing into your backside— how could you have ever thought of rejection? this is the furthest from it, this is obvious clearance, a promise.

"you look so pretty," billy whispers, cool breath hitting your shoulder, "i want you s'bad... just don't let me scare you."

another confused expression graces your face, "why would you scare me?"

the gunslinger breaths in your scent, nose brushing along the curve of your neck, "'cause i know how much i want you. m'crazy for you, sweetheart," he pauses to turn your head toward him, pointer finger at your chin, "just don't want to be too much and scare you away."

you ease into his touch, turning to face him, defenses down at his confession, "i won't run, billy. i like you too much."

your words seem to ignite the spark of passion within him as he pauses to let his eyes trail over your lips before finding your eyes again. the act is small but apparent enough that you feel comfortable enough to slide your hands up to his chest. his heartbeat thumps against your hands, rate accelerated.

with a shaky breath, you lean into him, lips brushing his. lingering, you feel as if you're on the edge of a cliff seconds away from jumping into the waters below. you feel him give the softest smile, bottom lip bumping into your own. the little sensation lights you aflame, and you have to fight back a moan when he finally presses his lips to yours.

his kiss is saccharine, loving, and careful. his hands keep you steady, at your hips, drawing you into him. you feel utterly lost in his being. the way he kisses you, slow and graceful, a welcome surprise. used to rowdy farmhands' awkward kisses and scorned by vicious schoolboys' unsolicited pecks, you've never had a kiss so sweet.

as his tongue tentatively brushes against your lips, you feel your body responding in a way you never thought possible. you feel animalistic, wanton and greedy. your hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer as you part your lips and let him deepen the kiss. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough.

with a sudden urgency, billy pulls you towards him and lifts you onto the nearby table. you gasp as he breaks away from the kiss to trail kisses along your jawline before nipping at your neck. your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, and you hear him groan in approval.

his hands roam your body, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt to cup your breasts. you arch into him, craving the touch of his rough hands on your bare skin. your own hands find their way to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them before pulling it off his body and revealing his toned stomach. you run your hands across his chest, feeling the stiff muscles under your fingertips.

you break away from him momentarily to catch your breath, gazing into his eyes as he looks back at you with such intensity that you feel like he's seeing straight into your spirit, "i want you," he whispers, voice husky with desire, have the minute i laid eyes on you."

billy eases you back onto the table, lips grazing your own, the feel of his skin against your own sending shivers down your spine. as your fingers fumble with his belt, you're reminded of your lack of experience.

you pause to look into his eyes, silently asking him for reassurance, "s'okay, darlin', trust me." his lips press against yours, reassuring and gentle, "you're doing s'good already."

you can't help but grow warm at his words, the bravery and candor in his voice giving away your own effect over him, "i trust you." you whisper against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer.

he hums, kissing you again before sliding your dress shirt off your body. you feel his hands roam your waist, following the curve of your stomach to rest on the swell of your hips, holding you steady.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of billy's bare chest—the way the moonlight filters through the windows, casting an ethereal hue on his body. you catch yourself wondering if you'll be so lucky to have him in your bed again, and you decide then and there that if he leaves, you won't let him go alone.

focusing back into the ardor of his embrace, the kiss as passionate as it was before, if not more. your tongues dance against each other, neither of you keeping a single thing to yourselves. billy's hands slide around to your hips, gripping at your skirt.

a shiver runs up your spine as he pulls you into him, feeling the weight of him press against your thigh. the heat from his body feels almost as strong as your desire for him, and you shudder from the contact, "i need—" you break away from him, hands fumbling at your own clothes, "i need you, billy…"

you pull your skirts up, revealing yourself to the dark-haired man before you. billy's eyes are trapped on your hips, lingering on your underwear as his hands slide up your hips and hook themselves around your bloomers, "never had a lady tell me what she wants," he murmurs, "s'direct."

his words drive you to press your hips into his, wanting him to know that you mean it, "please, i need you."

his lips find your neck, teeth nipping at your collarbone, "i need you, too, darlin'."

you close your eyes, hands finding their way to the button of his pants, "take them off."

you hear him chuckle and he slides down off the table, unlacing his belt as he steps out of his pants. you turn your head from him, flustered as you slide your undergarments off your hips and legs, kicking them to the side to fully expose yourself to him.

the gunslinger glides your back onto the table, eyes grazing over every curve and plane of your body as you lie before him, "you're so beautiful, darlin'."

you smile at his words, reaching your hands out for him as he lowers himself over you. your breaths seem to come faster, riddled with nerves.

you can feel his breath on your cheek, and you lean into him, "billy..." his lips kiss yours once, stopping you from saying anything further. you can feel his erection press against your thigh.

his hands find your hips and slowly slide you towards him, "just relax." he whispers as his eyes find yours.

you feel him press against you, and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. you suddenly feel a heat wave course through you, leaving a trail of nerve endings burning at his every touch. the gunslinger groans in approval and kisses your neck, seemingly urging you to relax more.

you feel him nip at your collarbone before slowly easing into you. you feel a light burning sensation, but it seems to be more from his movement than from his dick. his hips are gentle as he thrusts into you, his breath catching in his throat as you move your hips. the gunslinger's hands move to your waist, gripping at you as he pulls you into him.

the need for oxygen breaks your kiss, and billy's lips slide up to your ear, nipping at it as he thrusts into you with more force. you gasp, your back arching as he pulls you into him. you hear him groan in approval, "darlin', you're s'tight, and warm…you feel so good. i could stay inside of you forever."

you shudder at his words, unaccustomed to such vulgar remarks. your mind is filled with thoughts that no lady would ever think, but you find that you don't care. the pleasure billy brings you is more than enough to excuse what others might consider improper.

his lips find your neck again, leaving gentle kisses across your skin. you shiver as you feel him pant against your skin, "more, darlin', let me hear."

you nod your head, not at all sure what to expect. as billy's thrusts become harder, your nails dig into the tops of his arms, leaving light trails of red on his skin. he groans, "good girl."

your mind begins to cloud, your body becoming light with pleasure, "billy…"

as he moves within you, your body instinctively tenses and your breaths become labored. billy's hands grip your hips tightly, urging you to move with him as he thrusts deeper and harder. you can feel the tension building inside of you, a primal heat that intensifies with each movement.

"god, darlin', you're so close. i feel it." he whispers huskily in your ear, his words fueling your desire even more. your nails dig into his arms, leaving marks on his skin as you cling to him desperately.

finally, the wave crashes over you and pure ecstasy washes over your entire being. billy's own release follows closely behind yours, his muttered words blending into the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you both. as you lay there, spent and gasping for air, billy wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. his weight is a comforting pressure against your body as he remains inside of you for a few moments longer.

eventually, he pulls out and lies next to you on the table, allowing both of your bodies to relax and catch their breath. you turn towards him, gazing into his deep blue eyes that are filled with adoration and passion. this intimate moment between the two of you feels like an eternity as you bask in each other's presence. you turn and face him, smiling as you lean to kiss him.

you know you've never been so satisfied, and you can't help but feel happy for the choice you made. the gunslinger is kind enough to take you to your bed, snuggling into both you and your covers.

you lay in his arms, exhausted from your previous activity. billy looks down at you and smiles, "you did real good, sweetheart. i didn't scare you, did i?"

you shake your head, stupid grin on your face, "no, billy. you were perfect."

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd

[harriertail]

You and needlepine’s states designs are GORGEOUS!!!! I totally understand if it’s too much but I’m dying to know what your guys’ inspiration was for each design? (or at least some of your favorites!)

!!!!! thank you!!!! my states under the cut, I am not a yank obvs so mine were based on my perceptions of the states :) @needlepine if u wanna chime in

Alabama - yellow hammer woodpecker + crimson tide Connecticut - dead poets society/yale Delaware - grey fox, no literally Florida - first one i designed and why i suggested we do all the us states, the crazy weather + florida man! Georgia - georgia peaches Hawaii - the reefs and fishes Indiana - NASCAR BABEY!!! and the famous limestone Kentucky - KFC. im serious Louisiana - amos moses iykyk Maine - nor'easter + lobstah Maryland - the calico (tortoiseshell) cat is their state symbol + the flag Massachusetts - clams and chickadees Mississippi - wood duck and gambling idk biloxi New Hampshire - white deer and purple lilacs New Jersey - jersey devil New York - the liberty statue turning green North Carolina - pine forestry Ohio - spotted salamander and buckeyes (chesnuts), both shiny Pennsylvania - groundhog day Rhode Island - fancy breeds South Carolina - palmetto weaving Tennessee - bobcat Vermont - leaf peepahs Virginia - lot of animals down there ennit West Virginia - cryptids

[kittyandco-archive]

BRO. I ACTUALLY STARTED CRYING A LITTLE THIS MORNING. THANK YOU I'M REALLY GLAD YOU LIKE HER ;__;

Hi, Kitty!! my brain's in fnaf mode– if you have a minute, tell me the story about how Bobcat got into clowning with the fredbear's/freddy's locations! And like, do they like their job and the kids and everything, or is it more of a necessity with the added bonus of letting them work around the animatronics? I am curious about them and their horrors - @frankmillerturnonyourlocation

@frankmillerturnonyourlocation THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT HERR EEE AAAA i'm sorry this is so late. i haven't been online much/very mentally well, but i have been in fnaf mode since last august 😭 the movie definitely reignited my love (even more)!

kitty reinhart was a lonely kid. she spent a lot of time by herself; she couldn't really relate to kids her age, and adults thought she was "troubled." her parents weren't really around. most of her companionship was found in objects -- primarily her toys -- and in her imagination. she tried to focus on her studies as she entered high school, and she was a great student, but she didn't find fulfillment in it. very distant from just about everyone and everything.

and then fredbear's family diner opened in the late 70s.

she attended opening day, and instantly she fell in love. she's a kid-at-heart like me, and stood starry-eyed watching these huge robots move around, dance, and sing.

she spent all the time she could there. sometimes she'd sit there from opening to closing. sometimes after closing, when she began to get close with william and henry (though primarily the former). sometimes she wouldn't really speak much, but it was clear that she loved being there. they, and her love of the animatronics, brought her out of her shell eventually. she rediscovered her love of entertaining (even though before then it was just to her toys), and it was more comfortable and fulfilling being someone else, so she began to develop an alternate persona: a clown named bobcat.

they needed a more human touch to the location, even if it was just an experiment, so william promised her a job. they got very close; he was her mentor in many ways, and her only human friend for a while. in 1982, she went to work! she makes appearances at each location at some point, also.

she does enjoy working with the kids. deep down, she wants to give them the support and attention she never really had. working with the animatronics is the best part, though. sometimes she'll wander backstage and talk to them. (eventually this gets... almost literal once they're possessed, though i have canons where this doesn't happen. I HAVE A COUPLE OF ALTERNATE CANONS AND HAVEN'T GOTTEN THE DETAILS STRAIGHT IN ALL OF THEM BECAUSE FNAF LORE IS WILD)

but in normal canon, yeah... she gets suspicious of william after a while. he's acting more erratic as he realizes that he can't get away with it forever. but she wouldn't assume anything that bad like... help, but she does know there's been a change in him, and in the animatronics. and then the disappearances... she spends the most time with them out of anyone, and when they start acting strange/acting out... she knows there's something wrong.

even though she's an adult, though, they don't target her. they know she's safe (and this is also where being a "kid-at-heart" kinda saves her). they remain friends, and if the truth comes out somehow and she's still able to help, then she tries her best. 🥺

[itsbubbleteataro]

Hehe inspiration is fun

I'm kinda in the mood for some angst so let's get to it! I ended up getting inspired by one of my favorite songs by my favorite band.

Please enjoy!

Pairing; human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Warning; Alastor being Alastor, death, gore, murder, cannibalism 

Six feet under the stars

Summer of 1932 in New Orleans

You and Alastor had been living together for quite some time now. You moved in with him around two years ago and have been engaged for a little over two months now.

Tonight was a rare night where Alastor had gone out again for both a hunt and a surprise for you. Yes, you knew about his hunts and to be honest you didn't mind them. I mean you yourself had been doing something similar.

You were the daughter of a tea salesman and were well versed in the art of tea. Sometimes when dealing with a rather rude customer as you worked at your father's shop, you snuck a little something extra into the teabag, just a pinch of arsenic. Okay well maybe not just a pinch but enough to kill a man.

Anyways you looked at yourself in the mirror checking your appearance once more in the mirror. You wore a simple sundress as it's the summer and summer in the bayou can get quite hot and swampy.

You looked at the paper on the dining room table double checking where it said to meet Alastor. You laced up your boots with the heels before you stepped outside, walking down to Thames street where your lover wait for you.

*******

When you approached your fiancé you saw that he had changed out of his hunting clothes, he must have stopped at home while you were busy getting yourself ready.

With a hum the two of you linked arms and walked towards the outskirts of a different part of the bayou. Don't get me wrong, Alastor still knew this part very well and you trusted him in every way shape and form and in turn he trusted you. Trusted you enough to see him covered in blood, eating human hearts, even his hair in its naturally curly state.

Alastor lead you over to a waiting blanket and picnic basket, taking your hand he brought you to sit down.

"I was hoping we could have a lovely picnic this fair evening baby" 

His eyes shown in the low lighting. You swooned. He was always doing sweet things like this for you. You helped him set up the food, your matching engagement rings sparkling in the starlight. He had picked out matching rings himself, the main stone in yours being a ruby with small diamonds around it. A blood red stone, fitting choice for two serial killers.

About halfway through your evening you both had finished the food. It was one of the rare occasions that you too indulged in the taste of human flesh. Your head was against his shoulder as you watched the fireflies dance in the distance, taking in each others peace when you felt Alastor stiffen.

You were pulling your head back to ask what was the matter when you felt it, a scorching, red hot, searing pain in your shoulder. Your hand flies to your shoulder as a scream is ripping from your throat. Alastor's eyes widen and for the first time in a long time he feels terror make its way into his heart.

You, his love, had been shot by a clumsy hunter who had mistaken the two of you for a pair of bobcats out of all things.

You hunched over, eyes full of tears as you even try to process of what happened when a second shot rings out, this one hitting your torso.

Alastor was furious, quickly confronting the hunter who had yet to realize that he had infant shot a person. All you could hear was the hunters scream as Alastor quite literally ripped him apart with his blade.

He first cut the tendons in the hunters legs so he couldn't run, then sliced the ones in his hands so he can't fight back. Then he stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, stopping only after he had plunged his blade between the fools eyes and twisted it.

By the time he had finished with the hunter he turned to you. Quickly going down to you he held you in his arms. His hands were shaking and he was covered in both your blood and the hunters blood.

You were losing blood fast and you both knew it.

"I should have known better than to call you out tonight-"

"Oh hush up love"

You cut him off. You didn't want him blaming himself for your death. You knew you were going to die when you felt your fingers starting to tingle from blood loss.

Alastor gripped your face with one of his hands,

"My dear, I fear that if you're gone I won't be able to hold back. I may just tear this place apart."

Alastor choked out, feeling tears well in his eyes. You took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch.

"Then tear the world apart if you so desire. Just as long as you promise to meet me again someday"

Alastor nodded his head, his heart breaking in two as your voice became weaker and weaker.

"I love you Alastor"

You reached a hand up to his cheek, rubbing it gently.

"I love you too (y/n)"

Upon hearing such words you know that your body won't be long for this world. You let a gentle smile rest upon your lips, pulling his cheek weakly in an attempt for him to do the same.

He gets the message and forces himself to smile as tears rundown his cheeks. With one last breath your eyes flutter shut, your hand slipping from his face and your soul plummeting straight down to hell.

He holds your body close and sobs. The smile never leaving his face as he does. He sits back up, packing up the picnic and stuffing it all in the basket, blanket it and all. He pushes his arm through the loop of the basket so he can pick up your lifeless body.

He makes his way back to your shared cabin walking through the bayou as he didn't want anyone thinking he had killed you, his precious lover.

He knew he would have to give you the best burial money could buy, so he did just that. Your tombstone was made of marble, your name engraved as "(y/n) Hartfelt".

The day he buried you was one of the worst days of his life, right up when he had buried his mother. He visited your grave daily, telling you about his day. His never stopped grieving.

Fall of 1933

Alastor had been shot burying a body. He had gotten sloppy after your death, his hunts becoming more erratic as he worked through his loss. A hunter had mistaken him for a deer.

First his love had been mistaken for a bobcat and now him a deer, how fate has a way of working.

He welcomed his death, being found with a smile etched on his face for he knew that he could finally reunite with his lover as his soul plummeted down to hell.

He had a matching tombstone to yours, it being placed in the grave yard next to yours. As his coffin was lowered down into the ground and the dirt piled on, he rest easy.

As the two of you could finally be reunited,

Six feet under the stars