#what are you vince an animal?

[chibi-pix]

They really do need to colour code more.

Anyway! I apparently started this redraw a while back but dismissed it before I got very for. But I decided to work on it again. And what is it a redraw of? This old piece from 2021. Now going from little doodle to screenshot style! I'm pleased with the glow up.

Anywho! I hope y'all enjoy this one! Commissions are available on my Ko-fi. Until next time!

[plague-of-insomnia]

I cannot wait for this little cunt to make it onto my TV screen:

Antis: Stop sexualizing everyone and everything in Kuro you’re just freaks seeing stuff that isn’t there

Yana: *hold my beer*

Yeah, nope, nothing suggestive here

[magp1e-starl1ght]

found out that the Azumanga Daioh! Opening works fucking perfectly with Just Can’t Get Enough By Depeche Mode

[anintroverteddarling]

This was on my head when I heard the song ngl daslkfjndskfjandsf

Despite shipping Rody with Vincent, my girl Manon did not deserve to die like that TvT In the beginning, I thought Manon was just some girl leading on Rody but at the end I realize the whole context of Manon and Rody's relationship. Manon did love Rody but seeing how Rody is willing to self-destruct just to keep her happy, she already realize both of them will end up miserable so she had to be the one to end it for their sake like damn THE FACT MANON STILL HAD THE LOCKET WAS DKFLJNADSKFJNADSKJNASDKFJNAS THE ANGST THIS GAME BRINGS I SWEAR-- Rest in Peace, Manon. You had little screentime but you also made a big impact on the game.

[creepswrites]

TIRED OF RUNNING | Sinclairs x Reader

YET ANOTHER REWRITE i have no idea why Tired of Running is so popular but i've always been proud of it :) the original can be read here but i will be rewriting all existing chapters to finish it!!

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work. "They got kids."

WARNING: mentioned child abuse

NEXT

Sighing, you hit your head on the wheel with an exhausted groan. The Louisiana heat had been suffocating you ever since the AC sputtered to nothing a few hours ago. You'd left the windows open to prevent frying the inside of the car but it was still too hot. Even after living here for a few years, you never got used to the heat. It was fall for god's sake…

You lifted your head and tried to blink back the drowsiness aching behind your eyes. Driving for a week now had exhausted you and the heat wasn't doing you any favors. Everything felt warm and sleepy, making it difficult to focus on the road. A glance at your gas tank only made you groan. Nearly empty tank with no cell phone reception and two kids to take care of.

Speaking of kids, you glanced at the rearview mirror. Your twin boys - Peter and Michael - were passed out in their carseats and dead to the world. They were good kids, rarely fussy, and full of energy. They were why you'd been on the road for so long. You'd fled home with whatever belongings you could pack in your car and never looked back. Seeing their peaceful faces reminded you that it had been the right decision. Watching your ex husband strike Mikey for "misbehaving" had been your last straw. They were only two years old and he expected them to just simply know what behaviors were acceptable without teaching them anything.

He'd been the one who wanted kids yet showed no real interest in parenting. That had all been on you.

Which led you to where you were: off a dirt backroad in the middle of nowhere with the sun setting in an hour. If it had just been you, you would have sucked it up and walked to the nearest town in search of help. But with two toddlers, the feat seemed impossible. You didn't want them getting lost or hurt in the dark with no way of you helping them.

You got out of the car to survey your situation. The road you were on was mainly dirt and not well traveled. You hadn't even been certain they were roads if not for the signs just before you'd turned. Grass grew in wild, untamed patches and stretched out into a field to your left while the forest was close to your right. The trees offered minimal shade but were better than nothing. At least it was cooler under them instead of your hot car. But the prospect of sleeping in the dirt didn't sit well with you. Who knows what animals were even out there.

You pressed the heel of your hands to your eyes and tried not to cry. This was absolutely the worst possible thing that could have happened. If your husband was following you, which he most certainly was, then it was only a matter of time until he found you.

So you slid down the side of your car to sit against the wheel and curl in on yourself. It had been awhile since you cried since your husband would slap you for it, threatening to give you something to really cry about. You'd only withstood the abuse for so long because you didn't want Peter and Mikey to grow up in broken homes. But after you noticed they were being hit, you couldn't stay still. It had still been hard and you kept second guessing yourself all week if you were doing the right thing.

Hopefully you were.

A few hours passed before your luck changed. The sun had just begun to set, painting the skies in pinks and purples like a beautiful watercolor painting. It was finally cooler out now too, the breeze brushing your arms and face periodically. You'd just finished feeding the boys whatever food you had left in the duffle bags still and had decided to let them play in the little clearing nearby. You'd all been cooped up in your tiny car for days and you could tell they needed a break. They promised to stay close to you, running around nearby with sticks and their toys. Peter roared, running up to you with a tiny blue T-rex in hand. "'m gon' eat you!" He giggled.

You scooped him up and held him in your lap, watching his brother poking at the dirt with a stick. "Mikey, don't wander too far okay?" 

Mikey didn't answer and you sighed. He always had problems listening, always content to drift off in his own world without a second thought. You'd read a book about childhood trauma and worried about Mikey sometimes. You stood up and were about to approach him when you heard the sound of a car rumbling. You'd never understood the phrase "your life flashes before your eyes" but in that moment you did. "Mikey!" You shouted, white-hot horror shooting through you. "Peter, get in the car!" 

As soon as Peter squirmed out of your arms, you shot off like a rocket towards Mikey. His wide, terrified eyes were trained on the car headlights, which felt like a spotlight as you picked him up. The ground was illuminated with bright white light, making it impossible to hide from whoever this was. You practically threw Mikey into the car, slamming the door behind him and locking them inside.

The truck came to a stop and you faced it, squeezed your eyes tight, and prepared for the worst.

You heard the sound of the car door open and you turned to face the figure. When he finally stepped into the light, you nearly cried from relief. It wasn't your ex nor any of his friends. You felt your knees give out as a sob wracked your body, the adrenaline crash hitting you hard.

"Woah, woah!" The guy said, hurrying over and crouching in front of you. "Hey, it's alrigh', I ain't gon' hurt'cha." His voice was calm, the southern drawl making your eyes feel heavy. The headlights obscured a lot of your vision but you could make out his face. He was a little scruffy, covered in dirt, and looking at you with more concern than anyone had looked at you with in quite some time. "Shh, it's alrigh', you're okay…" You could tell he was scrambling, unsure how to help you but desperate to do so.

"S-sorry," you babbled through broken sobs. You didn't know what else to say and you couldn't stop the tears. "I- I thought you were- I'm sorry, my ex, he-"

He took you in his arms, hugging you to his chest. He was warm and smelt of dirt and rot but you didn't even care. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been hugged. Over the years, your ex had isolated you from your friends and most of your family so you knew it had likely been a good few years. So you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed.

But he didn't falter. "Shh, 's okay, you're okay. I gotcha." He rubbed slow circles in your back and smiled down at you, like an angel come to save you. "Y'ain't gotta 'pologize. I ain't mad."

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and leaning back slightly to look at him better. Definitely scruffy but charming in his own way. The look on his face was impossibly soft, so unfamiliar to you yet you craved that gentleness. "Sorry, I, um, I'm on the run. My ex, he, uh… Well, doesn't matter now. I got myself and my boys out 'n that's what matters."

The stranger's eyes widened slightly. Bright and pretty and you felt safe under his gaze, for some reason. "Your boys?"

You nodded and started to stand. He didn't hesitate to offer his arm, letting you steady yourself on him when you felt your head swim. "Yeah, they're in the car. Probably scared 'em shitless with my screaming." Your legs felt unsteady when you walked and you didn't miss the way the guy hovered, like he was braced to catch you if you fell. It was sweet.

You swung your car door open and the boys peered up at you, scrambling to try and hide their animal crackers. "Boys," you sighed, "What did I say about desserts?"

"To ask." Peter said plainly, too distracted by the stranger. "You're dirty, mister."

"Peter-!" You gasped, ready to apologize on his behalf.

But the man just laughed, clapping his hands together in his amusement. "Yeah, yeah, y'ain't wrong lil guy. Been workin' all day, hauling dead stuff 'round."

Peter looked morbidly intrigued, scooting closer to whisper like the two of them were sharing a secret. "Like… dead people?"

"Nah, nah, nothin' like that." The guy knelt down to talk with him easier, lowering his voice as well. "Animals who, uh, get hit by cars. Ain't got anyone to take care'a them, ain't like pets. So I come 'round 'n clean 'em up off the road."

Nodding slowly, Peter reached behind him and held out one of his dinosaur toys. "Have ya seen one'a these?"

The man seemed bewildered but offered him a sincere smile. "Nah, but, uh, if I do, I'll let'cha know, 'kay?"

Peter seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to his crackers. "I never got your name." You said as the man stood back up.

"Name's Lester." He gave you a gap-toothed grin, tilting his cap in a greeting. "Was headin' back home 'n saw yer car. Figured I'd come check on ya."

You smiled, hugging yourself shyly. "I, uh, ran outta gas. And with the boys, I can't exactly walk for help. No cell service either."

Lester frowned, scratching at his face as he seemed to think it over. He surveyed the three of you before looking out towards the setting sun. "Well, I ain't usually do this," he drawled slowly, "But there's a town nearby. 's called Ambrose. Could drive ya there so y'all could sleep for the night. An' in the mornin', we can swing by the gas station 'n get some gas for yer car."

"Really?" You stared at him with your mouth agape. "You- You'd help? Wh-what's the catch?" You couldn't accept he'd do this for nothing. If being with your ex taught you anything it's that no one was good for no good reason.

He smiled again, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Ain't no catch, honest. Jus' breaks my heart to see ya so freaked out."

You rubbed your arms nervously. "Sorry. I, um, thought you were my ex…"

Lester's face screwed up. "Well, whoever he is, hope he goes to hell if he'd scare ya that badly, sweetpea." 

Sweetpea was new. You felt your face warm up and you looked away shyly. He seemed trustworthy and he was cute, in a scruffy boyish way. You liked him. "I- I really appreciate it, Lester."

"'Course. Got two brothers'a my own so I get it." He watched you open your trunk and shuffle the bags around. "They ain't as well behaved as yer boys though."

Shouldering two of the bags, you snorted. "Yeah, you see 'em when its bathtime, then talk to me 'bout behaving."

The two of you were able to move most of your belongings along with the boy's car seats without issue. The truck smelt of rot and you scrunched your nose up when you spotted the dead deer in the back. "Sorry," Lester said, noticing your gaze. "Was workin' when I caught'cha. I promise everythin' in the car is clean though."

"It's okay." The smile you gave him was genuine even if he seemed surprised by it. "You're helping me. I ain't gonna shame you for your work. 'sides, someone's gotta do it, y'know?"

Lester, incredibly, gave you a surprised little smile as he watched you round up the boys. "Yeah. Yeah. You get it."

"The car smells weird." Peter said bluntly as you fastened him into his seat. Mikey had gone quietly, only squirming a little to voice his discomfort at being buckled in. He never liked confined spaces.

"Be nice, Peter." You shot him a look. "Lester's being kind to us, be kind to him, yeah?"

Peter glanced over at the man and smiled, all gap toothed and sweet. "Thank you for helpin' Mr Lester."

"'Course, lil man." Lester said, climbing into the front seat and rooting around in the glovebox. "Always happy to help." 

You climbed into the passenger seat beside Lester and felt the truck rumble to life. The truck was clearly old but you could tell Lester loved it dearly and took good care of it. Even if the engine shook the whole frame. The homemade charms littered with bones and feathers rattled like raindrops and he let out a little cheer. From out of the glovebox, he pulled out an old air freshener that smelt of disgustingly fake pine and strung it over the rearview mirror. "Best I got for the smell, sorry." He said with a sideways smile.

Your heart clenched. He was so kind to you for no reason and you almost teared up from the sweet gesture alone. "Thank you."

The truck rattled and the skull sitting on the dashboard unnerved you but you brushed it off. He worked with dead animals, something about it all just made sense. The boys didn't seem to care too much, happily nodding off only ten minutes into your drive.

"So how old're they?" Lester asked in a hushed voice, trying to not wake them.

"Just turned two a few months back. Twins, if you can believe it." You chuckled, sparing the boys a glance. They weren't identical in the slightest which you were slightly grateful for. You didn't want to be one of those parents who dressed their twins to look even more the same. "But, um, I guess they got to be too much for my ex. Managed to get out 'bout a week ago and we've been on the road since."

You felt Lester glance at you, giving you a once over. Unlike with most men, you didn't find yourself repulsed by his gaze. "He put his hands on ya?"

Shrugging, you turned your attention to the window to watch the trees. The sky was slowly getting darker, making them look like just black voids. At that moment, you became hyper aware of the ring still on your finger. The compulsion to throw it out the window was strong. "Yeah. A few times." You confessed quietly, closing your eyes to keep yourself from crying again. "More the boys than me, which kills me."

You didn't miss the way Lester's hands clutched the wheel tighter. "Well, there's a special place in hell for people like that. 's fuckin' repulsive." He grumbled that last part, like he didn't want the boys to hear it.

It made you laugh though. "You're right… It's just refreshing to hear." You tried to swallow around a lump in your throat. "All his friends were the only friends I had. Was allowed to have. And none of them were interested in helping me, much less believe me."

Lester scoffed. "Scumbags, the lotta'em. What happened ain't your fault, sweetpea don't let any of 'em get in your pretty lil' head that you did anythin' wrong." He paused, chewing on his lip before sighing. "My dad, he wasn't always the kindest to my brother. An' don't go telling this to nobody, ya hear? But I always hated folks who can jus' hurt their loved ones and keep goin' 'bout their damn business. Like it ain't botherin' em."

You knew he was right. It still brought tears to your eyes to have someone believe you. Someone who had no idea what your situation was and he was still defending you. Like your ex had no reason good enough for Lester to even ask about.

You definitely liked Lester.

"Town's just up this way," he said softly. The sight of streetlights was almost relieving to you after a long day of being on the road, hopping from gas station to gas station and only stopping at motels long enough to sleep. "Might get a lil' bit bumpy." 

Bumpy was an understatement. You almost thought you'd crashed as you felt the wheels bounce against rocks, shaking the car so violently you felt sick. Your arm shot out to try and catch your balance against the window and you only let out a breath when the truck came to a complete stop.

You and Lester shared a wide-eyed look. "Forgot to lay the planks down." 

Nothing about it was funny. But after the evening you had, you couldn't help but laugh. A genuine laugh. Something you hadn't done in a long time.

When Mikey began to cry from being woken up so violently, Lester got to him before you could. "Shh, s'alright lil' man, go back to sleep, shhh." He reached behind his seat to brush at his knee. "Sorry, almost there bud, jus' a bit further."

Eventually, Mikey settled back down, sniffling until he fell back asleep. When Lester sat back in his seat, he noticed your staring. "You have kids of your own or something? You're a natural at that."

He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. "Nah, but, uh, used to babysit 'round here. Was always good with kids, I s'pose."

With the car on paved roads now, the drive up to the town was smooth. As expected of a tiny town, nobody was outside. The lights in the little shops were out and the houses were all dark. Except one house atop a hill, lit up like a lighthouse in a sea of darkness. Lester drove towards it and pulled to a stop just outside. It was a modest house, paint peeling off in places along the outside and cobwebs in high places of the awning over the door. "What's this place?" You asked as you quickly followed Lester out of the car. You were incredibly appreciative of Lester’s good deed but his car did smell like rotten meat. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t be too offended.

"Family home. Inn's prolly closed for the night but I betcha my brothers'll let ya stay for the night." Lester said as he opened the backseat and began to undo the straps of Mikey's car seat.

You were struck silent. "I- Lester I can't impose on your-"

There wasn't any time to protest as the front door swung open. A large man stood there, dressed in a mechanics jumpsuit and wearing a hat over thin curly hair. "Les? The hell's this?"

Lester smiled all innocently, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do. "Heya Bo. Brought guests."

Bo stared you both down before running a hand over his face in exasperation. "When I toldja to come by for dinner, I ain't meaning to bring your pretty lil' girlfriend with ya."

You blushed and stammered but Lester spoke up, lifting a sleeping Mikey into his arms like he was a precious artifact. Bo took notice and his eyes widened at the sight. "I, uh," he stammered inelegantly. "What's with the, uh…"

"His name's Mikey." You mumbled, suddenly feeling unwelcome. It wasn't uncommon for people to look at you strangely for the twins, like they were some curse. Or maybe it was just your exes friends who felt like that.

Bo nodded slowly. "Mikey. Right." He looked at Lester and stepped aside, letting him pass into the house with your baby. "Well then. You folks like lasagna?" 

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever Les comes to visit for the eve, Vince always makes lasagna. Easy for him to take home 'n whatnot." Bo gave you a warm smile as he approached you slowly, like he was afraid you'd bolt. "If my lil' brother thinks you're good people… Well, I'm obliged to trust him. He ain't ever been wrong."

You watched Bo grab the bags you brought, only hesitating when he saw Peter, also fast asleep. "Sorry, um, I can-" You stuttered, reaching for the bags in Bo's hands.

He held onto them though, tilting his head towards Peter. "Don't even think 'bout it. You just bring your lil' one in. The gentlemanly thing to do is carry the bags." Bo gave you a flirtatious wink and went back inside.

You were left standing in the chilly, night air. The only light came from the inside of the house, which bathed the front porch and gravel walkway in warm, yellow light. You were cold and confused and absolutely exhausted. A part of you screamed against all instinct to accept their help, to trust these strangers. It had been so long since you'd trusted anyone, after all. You were desperate.

So you did.

Peter was already blinking awake from his short nap when you pushed the screen door open more and took in the house. It was a comfortable state of disarray. Throw pillows were propped against the couch at odd angles, family photographs decorated the walls in mismatched frames, and the room smelt of meat, cheese, and marinara sauce.

Lester and Bo's heads snapped to look at you. They'd clearly been whispering but they both smiled at you when you entered. Mikey was sitting on the couch, still a little bleary eyed, curled up against one of the velvety throw pillows that looked rustic and homemade. You sat Peter down beside him, brushing hair from their sleepy faces, and tried to ignore the brothers whispering. "Sorry," you mumbled as you approached them.

They both seemed surprised. "Why're you sorry?" Bo asked with a frown. "Y'ain't got nothin' to be sorry 'bout."

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, hung head low like a child being scolded. Fawn, your brain screamed. Fawn and they won't hurt you. "'m intruding with two kids, I- I know I'm not supposed to have come here, I just- Lester said the inn was closed, I didn't know where else to go, my car broke down-"

Lester cut your spiraling off by taking your hand and squeezing gently, grounding you. "Hey, hey, sweetpea," he kept his voice low and soothing, "We're happy to have ya. All three'a ya. Honest."

Bo nodded along, frowning at how quickly you retreated inwards. Lester had mentioned to him very briefly while you were outside about how your ex laid hands on you and the boys. It was what got him fully on board with offering you help. So seeing you like this broke his heart just that little bit more.

"I'm gonna go talk to Vince, let him know we got guests." Bo said as he swung open the basement door. "Les, make sure our guests are comfortable, yeah?"

Lester nodded, humming his agreement as he pulled you to his chest for a hug. You went willingly, your hands curled up in the fabric of his shirt as he hooked his arms around your shoulders. "Yeah, I got 'em." He said, shooting his brother a smile as he hugged you.

Bo nodded and descended to the basement.

Vincent hated to be disturbed while working. His brothers especially knew how entranced he'd get in a project, focused on perfecting every piece. Their mother had made him an incredible artist, which often meant he'd neglect everything, even himself, for the sake of his work. Oftentimes, Lester or Bo had to come downstairs to make sure he didn't collapse from exhaustion or dehydration. Especially when summer hit and the basement's heat was suffocating.

So Vincent didn't even lift his head when Bo came to a stop in the entryway, too focused on mending a crack in the cheek of his sculpture. "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. 

He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work.

"They got kids."

And that made Vincent straighten up. "Kids?" He signed slowly, like he wasn't sure he heard him right.

"Yeah." Bo said through a sigh. "Two lil' guys. Too old for breastfeedin' but too young for preschool. Hard to say though, been awhile since any of us were that old." He chucked humorlessly.

Vincent looked towards the wax figure slowly. "We promised Lester we wouldn't hurt children."

Bo nodded, looking annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. They're a pretty lil' thing too. Would be perfect for the museum, but, of course, Lester found 'em first."

"They can't see me," Vincent suddenly became frantic. "The children will be afraid."

The other man winced, hissing through his teeth. "Sorry bro, already promised your cookin' tonight." But Bo didn't seem that remorseful, even when his twin leveled him with an unimpressed look. "When's dinner, by the way?"

"What time is it?" Vincent signed, finally aware of the passage of time. It was easy to get lost in his work, though he promised himself he'd only come down for a few minutes to double check something. But it was easy for him to get lost.

"'s only quarter past 9. Why?"

Vincent finally moved, hurrying past. Bo was only able to make out "oven" before his brother was out of sight.

Thankfully, nothing was burnt. Vincent hadn't even spared you a glance yet, too focused on not burning the house down. Once the food was set atop the stove to cool down, he turned around to face you.

You were sat on the couch with Lester and the boys, who were trying their best to stay awake. "You must be Vincent," you said with a sniff. You knew your eyes were red from crying. Lester had sat with you, holding you while you wept. It was hard, feeling cared for. Especially by strangers.

Pain was familiar. This kindness overwhelmed you.

Vincent became shy when you addressed him, hiding behind long hair and doing his best to keep out of your sight. But Bo, never one to let his twin have peace, grabbed his arm to keep him from hiding. "Yep, managed to finally pull 'im outta that basement for dinner. Whaddya say, Vinny? You up for a proper meal with our guests?"

If looks could kill, Bo would have erupted into flames, reduced to ashes on the carpet. "Do I have a choice?" Vincent signed, managing to look annoyed even behind his mask.

"Nah." Bo smiled, all teeth and no kindness. "You set the table, I'll get enough chairs ready."

Lester turned to you, brushing stray tears away. His heart hurt when you'd started bawling after Bo left, babbling to him that you felt horrible for intruding and forcing his family to help you just because of the kids. He swore if he ever got his hands on your ex, they'd wish Vince or Bo had gotten to them first. "You okay?" He asked you gently, giving you what he hoped was a sincere smile.

You nodded, sniffing once. "Yeah, um, sorry for-"

"If you 'pologize to me for cryin', I'mma beat the ever lovin' shit outta your ex, sweetpea." Lester said, relishing in your chuckle. "We're happy to help ya, really."

Sniffing again, you nodded and wiped your eyes. "I really appreciate it. More than I think you know."

The look he gave you was impossibly soft. Like you were something precious. Lester's hand cupped your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, making your mouth fall open in surprise. "You deserve it, sweetpea. Y'really do." 

Bo coughed, making Lester roll his eyes. The two shared pointed looks before Bo turned to you. "Your lil' ones need high chairs or, uh, somethin'?"

You glanced down at the boys and sighed. "I think they're down for the count."

"You can use my room upstairs." Lester said. "I ain't sleep there much anymore so it oughta be clean." Before you could even think to protest, he tapped your nose. "And don't you get all apologetic on me. I wouldn't offer it if it weren't alright."

Honestly, you were a bit relieved to get to sleep in a real bed. So you thanked them quietly, gathered the boys up in your arms, and carried them upstairs. "Second door on the right," Bo called up after you.

As soon as your footsteps couldn't be heard on the creaky wooden stairs anymore, Lester was the first to speak. "I hope you two ain't forgotten your promise."

"Lester, I toldja to find someone for the museum-" Bo hissed, anger sharp on his face.

But the younger Sinclair didn't back down. "If Mama knew you two'd killed two lil' boys, whaddya think she'd do? She'd say somethin' 'bout how if someone took y'all from her, she'd raise hell."

"Don't bring Mama into this." Bo glared daggers at Lester.

Vincent knocked on the countertop to get their attention. "He's right. We made a promise."

"We can't fuckin' keep 'em here!" Bo said, careful to keep his voice down.

"Don't gotta." Lester said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "They ran outta gas. Let 'em stay the night, drop 'em back off at their car, they'll go on. Ain't no trouble."

Bo groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Why do you even care so bad?"

Lester flushed, blotchy pink spots on his cheeks, and shrugged. "They're nice. 'n I feel bad. Their ex laid hands on those lil' babies an' I'd do anything to get five minutes alone with that sonuvabitch."

Vincent's eyes widened. "You didn't mention that!" He signed harshly at Bo.

"Didn't exactly have a moment to tell ya." He sighed with obvious frustration. "Fine, alright, we keep 'em for one night. They're gone in the mornin', ya hear?"

The three of them were quiet for awhile, listening to your footsteps overhead as you set the boys up in Lester's old room. "Swear on Mama," Lester said, keeping his voice low, "That I ain't gonna be seein' any lil' boy statues."

"Lester-!" Bo hissed.

"Swear!" Lester shot back. The two were up in each other's faces at this point.

Vincent, ever the peacemaker, knocked on the counter again. "We swear on Mama."

"Don't fuckin' speak for me, freak!" Bo huffed. But Vincent fixed him with a glare and he sighed in defeat. "Fine. Swear on Mama. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to those three."

The youngest seemed satisfied. At that moment, you came back down the stairs, frowning slightly when you noticed them. "Everything okay?" You asked as though sensing the tension in the room.

"Yep!" Lester said with a wide grin. "Hungry?"

"Starving." You smiled back. 

Dinner was awkward at first, especially since you struggled to understand Vincent. But Bo and Lester happily translated and conversation began to flow easier, which you were grateful for.

"So, how long has it just been the three of you?" You asked as you took a bite out of the lasagna. Warm and cheesy and exactly what you needed after a week of gas station food.

Bo hummed as he swallowed. "'Bout ten years now. Went by in a blip, feels like."

"Oh," you frowned, "What happened? If, um, I can ask."

Vincent nodded, still nervously picking at his food. You'd noticed he only ate when you weren't looking so he could lift the mask, which saddened you. He seemed like a nice guy and you wondered what happened in the past to make him hide his face. But you did your best to look away periodically to give him a chance to eat and hopefully let him know it was fine. He probably got enough grief for it as is, you didn't need to add on.

Judging by the slowly disappearing food on his plate, you figured that was the right thing to do.

"Mama got sick. Real sick." Bo sighed sadly. "She was a really great artist, losing her hit the town hard."

"I'm sorry." You said gently. But Lester was the only one of the brothers who seemed sad. Something about that confused you. Why wouldn't they miss their parents?

You took a bite of the food. That wasn't your business.

Vincent began talking about his art then. Bo seemed to roll his eyes and ignored his signing, uninterested in translating. But Lester picked it up in his place, helping his brother talk about his art. He enjoyed painting in his free time but he primarily sculpted with wax.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You sculpt?"

"Vinny's the main artist in the House of Wax down the street." Bo nodded, answering for him. "Maybe t'morrow we'll take you 'n the boys to see it."

Vincent fidgeted with the ends of his hair, clearly embarrassed. You shot him a warm smile. "I'm sure Vincent's art is great. I look forward to it."

Once dinner was over, Bo and Lester disappeared into the living room with a couple of beers so you and Vince had the chance to wash dishes. The peaceful white noise of the running water and the simple swirling of washing dishes was nice after a long day. Vincent helped, taking whatever dish you passed him and drying it, setting it aside on the nearby dishrack.

He seemed to appreciate the silence. You almost wished you knew sign language so you could talk to him beyond yes or no questions. But you tried to ignore the shock you felt when your fingers brushed sometimes.

If he noticed, he didn't bring it up.

The soft sound of crying alarmed you. You spun around and saw Mikey standing in the doorway of the kitchen, sniffing and sobbing silently. He cried for you and ran towards you, wailing for comfort. You'd barely dried your hands before you were reaching down, scooping him up into your arms. "Shhh, it's okay," you soothed him gently, Mikey had always been the more sensitive one. Waking up in a new, unfamiliar place must have startled him, you thought to yourself as you swayed with him gently.

He nodded, whimpering. "Scared."

"I can imagine." You kissed his cheek gently, rocking him like you'd done when he was an infant, needing to be settled before bed. "It's okay baby, you're alright," you repeated the mantra over and over as you heard Vincent turn off the water behind you.

Hearing his heavy footsteps behind you, you turned to face him and shifted Peter so he could see him. The tall man blinked slowly at Peter, tilting his head curiously at your son. "Mikey, this is Vincent. He and his brothers are letting us spend the night so you and Peter can sleep in a bed." 

Mikey seemed to consider this before reaching up to try and touch Vincent's face. "Hi," he whispered.

Vincent flinched slightly but didn't step back. Instead, he offered his hand for the young boy to grab at. Mikey giggled as he grabbed at Vincent's fingers and hand, seemingly satisfied. "Did you wake your brother?" You asked after a moment and winced when your son nodded. "Where did he wander off to?"

"Over here," You turned your head to see Peter half asleep slumped against Bo, barely even keeping his eyes open. Neither of the men seemed bothered though. Bo even raised his beer bottle jokingly, "Seems he's ready to get drinkin' already." He teased and you snorted.

"God I wish they'd just stay small forever. I can't even imagine them starting school yet, much less drinking." You paled at the mere thought. It seemed like only yesterday they were just born and now you felt nauseous whenever you think about them starting kindergarten. Being away from your kids for extended periods of time felt terrifying.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Vincent signing something to you. Shit. Luckily, Lester translated from his seat on the couch, "He's askin' if ya want help bringin' em upstairs?"

Blinking a few times, you nodded at Vincent with a smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it! Here," you adjusted Mikey before passing the toddler into Vincent's arms carefully, "just support him here," you guided his arms to the right spaces and ignored the way your heart melted seeing him asleep in someone's arms. Reminded you of easier times before you and your partner split. "Lemme grab Peter and we can head upstairs." Vincent nodded to you and waited patiently by the stairs as you stole Peter back from Bo.

You felt the pair's eyes on you as you wished them goodnight from over your shoulder and headed upstairs with Vincent trailing behind. He carried Mikey like he was fragile, breakable, and you found it incredibly endearing. You set Peter down onto the bed, nestled back in the little blanket fort to prevent them from rolling off the bed, kissing him softly goodnight. Vincent mirrored your actions with Mikey and just stroked his cheek with his thumb in lieu of a kiss. "Thanks for your help. All three of you," you whispered to him. Vincent looked at you, shadows hiding his eyes from you. "It means the world to me that you're all willing to help. I know the boys appreciate it too." You smiled at him as you stood quietly. "I should get to bed," you trailed off and Vincent nodded but didn't leave the room.

Instead, he reached his hand out towards you before tilting his head, asking permission. You gave him a curious nod and felt his hand touch your cheek, stroking under your eye like he'd done to Mikey. "Night Vincent," you whispered and ignored how your face warmed up.

He shut the door as he stepped out of the room,padding down to rejoin his brothers in the living room. None of them said a word to each other but they all had the same thought: they wanted you to stay.

The next morning, Bo collected your car and brought it to the gas station to fill back up. You'd chatted about your plans to keep going west when he'd mentioned missing you. "Place jus' feels more lively with you 'round, s'all." He'd shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

You'd gestured to the empty streets before climbing into the passenger's seat. "You sure that ain't just because this town is quiet as is?"

Bo just gave you a smile. 

When you tried to start your car, it seemed to spur, dead. "What the-?"

"Everythin' alright?" He asked, leaning against the window frame.

"It sounds like the battery's dead?" You frowned, trying again to start the car.

Bo jerked his head, urging you to follow him. "Lemme take a look." You followed him around to the hood of your car and he flipped it open. He hummed as he looked around, face screwing up in surprise. "Your fan belt tore."

"My what?" You blinked owlishly at him. He gave you a look of bewilderment and you just sighed. "You definitely know more about cars than me."

He snorted at you and slammed the hood closed. "I don't think I got any in the shop but I could order one for ya and have it in a few days."

That wouldn't do. "I- I need to get back on the road soon." Panic began to rise in your chest and tighten your throat. "If we're found here, then I'd have to…" You didn't want to think about it, you said to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. Obviously you had a plan if you got caught but you really, really, didn't want it to come to that.

Bo nudged you gently and gave you a warm smile. "Hey, we'll look out for ya. Ain't no one gonna hurt'cha here in Ambrose. Not get many tourists anywhere, doubt they'd think to look for ya here."

You sighed. You didn't exactly have much of a choice. If your car wouldn't start, you'd just have to wait.

The two of you were walking back to the house and you felt Bo kept glancing at you. Right before you were going to ask about it, he spoke up. "I know ya wanna go see the House of Wax. Which is all fine 'n good, but ya gotta know somethin' 'fore you go there."

"Sure..?" You said plainly.

Bo sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "So, when Mama got sick, Vince had been away at a real good art college." You nodded along to show you were listening. Bo looked guilty. "When she got worse, I needed help takin' care'a her. Lester and I were away workin' and she needed someone at home. So, uh, near her end…" He sighed again. "I called him back home. It's, uh, still a sore spot. Wasn't able to go back, since he got in on scholarships. An' we didn't have the funds anyway, her bills were too much."

The silence was deafening. "I'm sorry." You said, at a loss for words. "I- I won't bring it up then."

"I 'preciate it. He an' I don't talk 'bout it anymore. If he goes with ya, just don't ask."

You nodded, giving Bo a small smile. "I'm sure he doesn't blame you for it."

The man smiled back at you but you could see it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe."

Taking a small sidestep, you bumped your shoulders together. "I know so."

Later that night, things changed.

You'd gone to bed after showering and bathing the boys, the three of you all fast asleep in the bedroom. Vincent and Bo had gone to their own rooms while Lester slept on the couch. None of you heard the two cars that pulled into the town, driving slowly down the streets looking for any sign of life. After no luck at the first few houses, a small group of people approached the Sinclair's house, heavy footfalls making the little porch staircase creak under the stress.

They knocked on the front door and a dog could be heard barking in the backyard.

Lester had stumbled awake in surprise, his brain taking a minute to catch up. No one should be at the door because nobody else was alive in Ambrose. He still went to the door, opening it with a tired yawn. "Yeah?"

A man smiled at him, an acidic look that made bile burn the back of Lester's throat. "I'm looking for someone. Do you happen to know if there's been someone visiting your town?"

Freezing, Lester immediately recognized the man. Even though they'd never met face to face, he knew everything about this man. All child abusers look the same, Lester thought as he recalled his father. They all look like scum.

"Well, I ain't too sure. I work the night shift, I jus' got home. But my brother Bo might'a seen 'em. He works down at the autoshop." He said through a yawn. 

"I'd hope so. Considering their car is in his shop." The man smiled, trying to force his way into the door, calling your name.

Lester shoved him back, slamming the door and locking it with a loud thud. He ignored your ex's screaming as he ran up the stairs. 

Bo was opening his door before Lester could even knock. "The hell're you-?!"

"Guests." Lester panted, frozen in place as he kept an ear out in case your door opened. "Their ex is here."

His brother's eyes widened and he stormed to Vincent's door, knocking once before opening. He tore the blankets off Vincent and shook him viciously. "Get up, get the knives, we got intruders."

Vincent snapped awake, blinking through sleep-mussed hair. "Mm?" He said around his exhausted yawn.

"Intruders! Vince! Now!" Bo snapped. "I'll get my shotgun. You helpin' out, Les?"

Lester huffed, thinking it over. "Y'know I ain't a killer, right?"

Bo didn't have time for this. "You helpin' or NOT, Les?"

The younger brother sighed. "Does dad still keep a spare gun in his office?"

"Did he ever stop?" Bo said with a smirk, pulling his boots on his feet.

Vincent stumbled to his feet, putting his own boots on to sneak back down into the basement. If he went down and through the House of Wax, they could pin the group down. Bo'd meet them head on while Lester slipped around the side of the house to catch the strays. They vowed to make quick work of all of them but save your ex for last.

The Sinclair brothers were going to protect you. No matter what.

[lunatic-pudge]

Hey, so there's two things I wanna point out in Postal.

In the second game, if you look at Dude's check he gets from Vince, you can see that it's dated 2002.

It looks like the date is May 10, 2002, to be exact. But yet, in Paradise Lost, when he's showing off the pic of him and Champ, trying to find his baby.

The pic is dated 2003

Just a small continuity error, but to be fair, it's kinda hard to read what's on the check.

And in Postal 4, if you look at the license plate on Dude's trailer. You can see that it's a handicap license plate.

Which makes sense cause Dude is definitely disabled. I like to think this gives lots of credence to those who headcanon Champ as Dude's service animal. And before anyone says, "Well, where his little service dog vest?" Either, Dude lost it, or Champ hates wearing it, and Dude just doesn't care enough to make Champ wear it.

Just wanted to share. Also, I tried to play Postal 3 and immediately got stuck on the beginning, where you have to throw grenades at the zombies. I don't know why, but the controls confuse me? Like, what do you mean space is to duck? How the hell do I just them?

[doubleca5t]

one of the lowkey funniest parts of Soul Eater is how one of the main running gags throughout the show is that Spirit is constantly trying to hang out with Maka and develop some kind of relationship with her, but he is given no opportunity to do so because Maka just fucking hates him and at first it makes sense cause he's a letch and he cheated on her mom so like yeah he kinda sucks but then as the show goes on you start to think "hey, Maka always talks so glowingly about her mom and Lord Death keeps talking about what a prodigy she was and how amazing she is, are we ever gonna actually MEET this woman??" and then after like ten episodes of wondering that Crona has a heart to heart with Maka and he's like "hey what happened to your mom anyway?" and then Maka reveals that her mom is just.... gone???? like she got divorced from Spirit and just kinda went out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back??? and THEN when Crona asks if Maka has a favorite memory of her mom, Maka replies that it's when she got the divorce??? and it's like holy shit Spirit might legitimately be the biggest faildad in all of anime like imagine being so cringe that your daughter will only spend time with you if she loses a bet and is constantly comparing you negatively to the mother who literally abandoned her in the middle of her childhood with no explanation what a pathetic little soggy donut of a man he is I cannot think of a more fitting character to have been voiced by vince lasagna

[heartfullofleeches]

everytime i see the name v you can be assured that i am going to butt in.

honestly, v is definitely the type to hire a hitman just because he got in an argument with someone. sure, he could deal with it by himself — but he is a lazy bum and has his... "priorities".

v meeting up with the hitman and immediately his jaw falls off. the most he was expecting is a bald man in shades and a suit, not an incarnate of a divine being!

v watching hitman aim their sniper on the victim — he can't help but observe the focus in your eyes and the steadiness and precision of your hand near the trigger. he praises the beauty of your hands, and unfortunately, his mind got to wandering. thinking about how your hands would feel on his cock — would you focus on his cock like you focus the aim on your targets? would you stroke his cock with absolute precision?

he's put out of his state when he hears a 'bang!' and flinches.

"the job is done, mr. vince."

"could you... do me next?"

"..."

This is bullshit.

If he knew he had to go outside to have that bastard killed, he would've just done it himself.

V drums his fingers against the dinner table - eyes scanning the venue for anyone that might fit his imagined description of the person he's looking for. Rugged, shaven head, nice suit and tie - maybe a few visible scars from their line of work. While there a number of suits in a fine establishment, they were just the run of the mill rich assholes he'd grown accusation to through his life.

Sweat beading down his neck, V pulls at his collar. He hadn't even dressed up for his grandmother's funeral a year ago and now here he was in a nice button up and slacks for a complete stranger - and it isn't even for a date. If the waitress came by again to check if he was ready to order his tie would be an easy ticket out of here without the embarrassment of walking out looking like a dateless loser. He can already hear them laughing whichever way this goes. Frustrated, V folds his arms, shutting his eyes as tries to blend with the background of the uncomfortable booth he sat in. Maybe if he keeps them closed long enough when they open he'll be back at home - or dead. Either is an acceptable option at this point.

"Excuse me-"

V shoots up from his seat as warm breath fans his ear. The voice, no louder than a whisper, sends a chill down his spine as it flows from the lips of its speaker like smooth honey. A far cry from the unpleasantly sweet tone that waitress threw on to hide her thinly veiled annoyance at seeing V still hogging an empty table. He looks up at the looming figure at his table side - jaw slack as his eyes adjust to the light that envelopes them.

"I don't mean to interrupt whatever it is you are doing, but would you happen to be a Mr. Vincent Carbone?"

V's mouth opens like the jaws of a dying animal fighting for its final breath. The person before him was dressed in date casual clothing. He stares at their exposed collar from the lower cut of their shirt and toned muscles from their sleeves. He rubs at his eyes. This... couldn't be them. He had to be looking at a model. V's standards were pretty low his own admission, but from the way they carried themselves down to their physical attributes proved they were way out of his league.

"Yes... um, that's me... Just Vince is fine."

They tighten their lips with a small nod. V makes a note of how soft they look compared to his own chapped skin. He follows their every move as they sit down in their seat across from him - wasting no time as they pull a black folder from the brief case brought with them. He watches as their calloused fingertips turn each page - pondering what they might feel like around his-

"So - are you this guys secretary or....."

V flinches as their eyes snap up at him - emotionless face plagued by a hint of annoyance at his query. "I can assure you I do all of my work by myself, Mr. Carbone.... From the information you've given me, it appears you have had a fued with this person for quite some time despite numerous attempts to block and/or have them removed from the group of individuals you play games with, and wish to escalate matters further."

Breathing through their teeth, they shut the folder - placing it flat on the table. "Had I not done my research into your person, I'd consider this whole thing."

V feels tightness in the crotch of his slacks at the use of that word. Mr. Carbone. He's been referred to as such before, but the way it rolls off their tongue- V picks up his glass of water and fits it to his lips, trembling hands spilling the cool liquid all over his white shirt.

"R....research... You... know about me?"

"Yes. It's common for me to look into the backgrounds of all my clients. Make sure they have the funds to pay for my services and take note of what I can take as collateral if anything comes up. I know for certain you've got the cash, but the rest is still up in the air."

V swallows hard. "I already had the records of our conversation scrubbed and it's not like we talked much anyway... I don't trust cops much either."

Amused, the hitman's expression shifts from its blank slate for the first time as they offer him a small smile. "Good boy...."

V slaps a hand over his mouth to stiffle the whimper that almost slips out. The hitman retrieves a small flip phone from their briefcase and slides it across the table.

"From now on you will contact me from this device only. We will discuss how what methods you prefer in due time. Do you remember what else we talked about when we spoke over the phone?"

"Yea.... Half up front, half went it's done." V pulls a crumbled envelope from his pocket and hands it to them - savoring the brief moment of contact between his sweaty hands and the heat of their skin through their gloves. They count the bills briefly before sliding it into their back pocket. What V wouldn't do to be that piece of paper.

"I look forward to working with you, Sir. Something tells me we'll be hearing a lot from each other in the future."

".....you promise?"

[rzyraffek]

hey I hope this doesn’t sound like a weird request but could u like slashers (preferably Michael Myers, Jason, maybe Billy loomis or Stu?, and the Sinclair brothers) kidnapping “adopting” reader? Like them kind yknow unaliving (Child) readers family then like having to like care for reader???? Idk if it makes sense but it came to me in a dream about me being a kid and Michael myers becoming my dad 😭

ALSO ITS COMPLETELY PLATONIC OBVS ‼️‼️‼️

IM SORRY FOR 2WEEK BREAK I HAD TO!!

This request is such a cute idea!!! I made so much content about perent!slasher and kid!y/n cuz its way more entertaining for me to write!! Authors note at the end!

They/them, sfw, Request open

Slashers trying to be decent dad figures

Jason Voorhees

First of all, why on earth would your perent take you all the way here??? Your a smal baby and this is dangerous! Not only cuz jason is here, but wolfs? Boars? Huge forest AND lake???

So basically he didnt expect a child here

When he was in one of cabins he heard crying from bathroom, after few seconds of planing a murder he realised that is a child crying

His heart skipped a beat and he kinda begun to panic. HUH??? A CHILD? EEE eee oh god the whole backyard is covered in blood... oh no did I scare them?? Oh no

Dude gets more spooked than a child

After they got along he kinda makes them live in his cabin, he spends good portion of time just hanging around

Y/n gets used to their new mute friend and learns their own ways to understand him

Dude is that type of dad who will let y/n paint his nails and he will dress up in cute outfits just to make his kid happy

100% checks under their bed for monsters (and closet too!)

Wants to teach them all about nature! Which plants are good, how to find animals to eat, how to avoid humans

He dodges the topic of slaughtering y/n perents... where are they?? Ermmm idk didnt see them

Micheal Myers

Dude is pretty passive when it comes to kids

He exists, they exists, but as far as kids don't bother him, he won't bother them

But oh lourd..... your his little girl/boi/kid and he is going to do everything to keep it that way

He sees it differently than others, he helped you, took you away from those horrible people (no matter if y/n past perents were bad or good people) why would you want to leave? Or miss them?

But no matter how he feels, he is still Micheal, he won't be very cuddly or clingy. Then y/n needs comforting he will sit next to them, let them talk, tbh he is okay with them giving him some physical attention but he won't hug them back

Steals dolls, figurines, crayons for y/n

He never gets rid of his stalker nature, he is always there, watching, making sure there's noone in their way. Noone bothering or looking at y/n. He sometimes watches them sleep, just looking, he is the only monster in their closet

Huge fan of stickers btw

After good few months he takes off his mask when with y/n! He knows they accept him and love him! I mean his face is as emotionless as its owner but it still matters(at least now you know where he is staring at)

Billy and Stu

Dudes probably were like "eeeerr billy? That *instert y/n perents name* eee you didn't tell me they had a kid?" "the WHAT"

*stu giving y/n chocolates while billy panics in room next to it wondering wtf to do with y/n*

"We can't just keep it! Who is going to take care of it?"

They kept you btw, Billy will say that they did that only so you don't go and call police but they got really attached

Stu is the fun dad while Billy is the serious dad

"Hi baby we bought you happy meal" "child did you do your homework"

Billy rages over monopoli and stu cheats in uno

Sinclair brothers

"Lester who tf is in your truck?" "Eeee I found it?"

Vince lets y/n sleep in his bed when they have nightmares. He also really wants y/n to do arts like him😊

Lester just vibes, you like cars kid? Let's go on car trip! You like wildlife? I know where deers at!

Bo teaches y/n how to shoot while they are way too young to even hold a gun

Y/n will be extremely spoiled btw

None of them know how to cook full meal

Lester will call y/n buddy, pal, kiddo

Bo will call them child, goblin, spawn on satan, little princes(or a prince)

Vincent will see them as little creature and a baby

Vincent let's y/n play and decorate his hair, they also make wax figurines together and play with dog. He is more like older shy brother than a father figure but if you want you can work with this

Bo lets y/n sleep on him and draw on his arms, he also hopes y/n never grows up cuz they are tiny and cute. He also sometimes gives them his hat

Lester loves showing of his skull collection and driving around forest, just talking. He also enjoys lisening to y/n monologues while he is working

All of them get little heart attack when they hear y/n swear. All bets on Bo accidentally saying bad word next to y/n and them just repeating it

Bo and lester love to just put you on their shoulder! And vince just pickes y/n up like sack of potatos (but gently)

Tickle fights with Vince

Arm wrestling with Lester who pretends that y/n is too strong and lets them win

All x reader tags are here only to reach bigger audience! Im sorry if there's any misstypes or anything weird! I kinda wrote it in rush cuz I feel bad for making yall wait for requests so long! I should make this hc list longer but I am very tired. Goodnight

[wombywoo]

big fan of your boys!

7 a-c & 25 (fantasy au) pls thank you!! 💚

thank you <333

7. what do they look like when happy?

Like this:

hehehe, Vincent's got a very big smile, and when he's extremely happy, he'll scrunch up his whole face. Quinn is more subtle, as he doesn't like showing his teeth, but if he's caught off guard, he might flash a grin, squint his eyes, and blush (rare)

a. when sad?

Vincent gets big wet puppy eyes 🥺 Especially when watching a sad film; his whole face droops and he might sniffle and offer soft little hums. Quinn is also more subtle with his sadness; he tends to just look blank and distracted while experiencing defcon 1 levels of existential despair :'D

b. when angry?

Vincent gets a feral edge, exacerbated if he's in a rage state. He can appear like a wild animal when he's pushed to that extreme, blazing eyes and bared fangs. Quinn kinda looks angry all the time, lol, but if he's actively feeling it, his face will look even sharper; angled brows, rigid jaw.

c. when confused?

Vince has an adorable confused face; that kind of 'huh?!" disbelief expression with a slightly parted mouth and lopsided eyebrows. Quinn will probably just scrunch his eyes or flare a nostril 😤

25. fantasy/modern au (swap or an au of choice)

I feel like I've answered something similar before, but in a fantasy setting, Vincent would have regal attire; red cape, fitted velvet tunic, laced boots. I can also see him donning a half-mask for added pageantry 🤌 Quinn's look would be more peasant-like; brown leather, a sturdy vest, some harnesses for weapons~

[unknownperson246]

a/n: hii, can i request a Vince Neil x reader where they have a one night stand and never intend to see each other again but she accidentally gets pregnant and has to see him again? Kinda fluffy tho if you can make it that way 😭🙏 I'll LOVE you so damn much if you write this hdhshs ❤️

hiiiiii I didn’t write the smut part of it but it’s definitely mentioned 😉❤️

Back Again:

Words: 466

warnings: *fluff*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You woke up feeling sick and dizzy. You soon realized you were going to heave up all the food from yesterday night. You were sick and not feeling well. You suspected that you could be pregnant. You didn’t want to be one of those women in denial. You had to accept the results of the pregnancy test. It wasn’t going to be easy but you had to make a smart decision. 17 minutes after pissing on the stick it showed up positive. You knew who the father was. 

It was a one-night stand in Chicago. Vince Neil was the father. 3 months ago Mötley Crüe was on tour. Vince was known to be a sex addict and everyone knew he went fooling around with 5 different women in a night. With you it was different. You didn’t go straight to having sex. You met him in a phone booth and you thought he was cute. You didn’t know who he was until he showed you his band. After dinner you both made love. You liked Vince. 

To many people, he was a douchebag and an animal who bites. He was sweet and kind to you. Even though it was a one-night stand you had to go see him for the sake of the baby. You knew where he was. You went over to him. He was at a restaurant eating dinner by himself. 

“Hi, Vince!” You yelled. 

At first, he thought it was just some fan who saw him and wanted an autograph. He looked over and he remembered you. You went up to him all the way and sat in the chair in front of him. 

“Hi Vince,” you said with a smile.

“Hi y/n,” Vince said smiling. He looked sad and lonely.

“Vince, I'm pregnant and it’s yours,” You said quickly.

“I’m not surprised,” he said while sipping his water bottle. 

You were bewildered that he did not react.

“What are we going to do?” You asked Vince.

“I guess we are just going to have to keep it,” Vince said, looking at you.

“When did you find out?” Vince asked you. 

“Just this morning,” You said trying to hold your emotions back. 

“Wow, you wanted to get it off your chest quickly huh?” Vince asked. 

“Yeah, something like that,” you said. 

“Do you want to go home after this?” Vince asked you.

“Yes I’d love to,” you said.

“Make sure to take care of yourself for the kid,” Vince said as he got his car keys. 

“You want to drive? I don’t know where your house is”  Vince asked. 

“Sure,” You said, grabbing the keys. You soon arrived home and Vince sat in your chair in the living room. He wanted to make sure you were okay while you took a nap. 

[m30wk1ttycat]

angel

pairing: thomas x gn!builder!reader

tw: blood, cussing, mentions of very scary shit that minho drew.

summary: thomas hates not being allowed to do anything in the safe haven - it's been weeks since they arrived, but all he gets to do is lay back and do nothing while the others do everything. apparently, he needs to recover after all the traumatic shit, in vince's words. but why would thomas listen to him?

it had been over a month since you arrived at the safe haven, and thomas, the ever so restless boy, was not having it. he wanted to help out, but each time he asked vince if there were any jobs available, he told him that he still needed to recover, and then, they could discuss it.

so, for now, he was stuck with having to do absolutely nothing.

well.. that was a lie. while he wasn't allowed to work, he still had something to do. that "something" being rating whatever minho doodled in his sketchbook while admiring a certain someone from afar.

minho waved the sketchbook in front of him, grinning proudly.

thomas tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better look at minho's drawing. "dude, what the hell is that?"

"a demon pig, duh."

his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he chose not to. even if he wanted to speak, brenda interrupted, sitting down next to thomas.

her eyes raked over the sketchbook in front of thomas' face, trying to figure out what the hell it was that minho drew. "..is that a pig crank with vampire fangs?"

"close enough," he agreed. "so? do you like it?"

"yes, very beautiful," brenda said sarcastically.

minho nudged the boy next to him, waiting for him to answer his question. no reaction.

so, he elbowed him in the ribs. that prompted him to let out a yelp that did not sound very manly at all. "ow! what was that for?"

"my arm, uh, slipped? my bad, sorry," he apologized, though his grin gave it away that he wasn't actually sorry. he made his intentions clear once he asked, "rate the drawing?"

thomas paused, thinking. "like, an 8,5 out of 10? wouldn't want to see that. ever."

if minho didn't look proud before, he definitely did now, hearing thomas' words. he didn't expect an 8,5 out of 10, but he was happy with it nonetheless. even if he was a bit offended that thomas didn't know what his drawing was supposed to be until brenda mentioned it.

"thank you. i feel flattered," he joked, and turned back to doodling something. back in the glade, minho only drew the maps and stuff, but now that he was here, in the safe haven and not in the glade, he actually had time to draw stuff that weren't work-related. like demon pigs and other horrifying shit.

twenty-ish minutes later, minho proudly showed off his drawing of a cute frog. out of all the things he could draw - which was usually satanic looking animals or objects that would forever haunt thomas - he chose to draw a frog. a very cute frog, but a fucking frog regardless.

"nightmare fuel," brenda commented, to which minho scoffed.

"'nightmare fuel'? it's beautiful, what do you mean?" he tsked, turning to thomas, who was not at all paying attention to anything they were saying. "right, thomas?"

thomas blinked, furrowing his brows at minho. "what? oh! um, yeah, it's beautiful."

"see?" minho looked over at brenda, his expression smug. "thomas agrees."

"of course he does," the brunette muttered. "and thomas?"

hearing his name, he turned to her, waiting for her to continue.

"stop staring at the builders."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

later that day, during dinner, he asked gally if he could help them out sometime.

"you want to.. work with us?" he repeated, making sure he heard him right. this was thomas, the guy who the most stubborn and clumsy human being there was - and he wanted to work with them? them, as in with the builders?

he nodded. "yeah..?"

gally paused, looking genuinely confused by his request.

"i'll see what i can do," he finally said, partially agreeing. thomas internally cheered, both nervous and excited for a reason he couldn't quite explain.

minho, meanwhile, chuckled softly. "is this about y/n?" he suggested.

"no!" he said a bit too quickly, prompting minho to put his hands up, as if surrendering. "all right, all right. calm down. sorry."

"i just don't like not working," he explained after a pause. minho nodded, seemingly believing him. gally, on the other hand, looked a bit skeptical.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

in the morning, after breakfast, gally announced that he could choose between sorting screws or helping him and yourself to repair the roof of one of the huts. of course, thomas agreed to help out with fixing the roof, which somehow ended up with thomas dropping a hammer onto his hand while gally was taking a break and you were too focused on the roof you were supposed to be re-doing.

"fuck!" you heard him exclaim from next to you.

"you all right?" you asked, continuing to do the work you were assigned with.

"..nothing," he lied. it was obviously not nothing, judging by how his hand was bleeding, which was something you noticed only after turning around to make sure he was okay - he wasn't.

you took the hammer from him before he could take it back as he reached for it again. "we're getting you to the medics. come on." you grabbed his uninjured hand with your free one and practically dragged him away, gally staring at the both of you in confusion. was he really witnessing this?

once you were at the medics' cabin, you made him sit down on one of the cots as he explained what happened to one of the medics, a woman named stephanie who he recognized from the right arm.

as stephanie tended to him, you leaned on the wall, arms crossed over your chest.

when she was done, she walked away, leaving the two of you alone.

"jesus, thomas," you muttered mostly to yourself. you pushed yourself off of the wall, and sat down next to him, taking his hand into your own, your eyes filled with worry. there was already some blood soaking through the carefully wrapped bandage, you noticed.

he had the expression of a kicked puppy, embarrassed about this whole situation. maybe he should've listened to vince and this wouldn't have happened. maybe he wouldn't have embarrassed himself in front of his crush if he didn't ask gally if he could help with construction and crafting related things, knowing full well that he was the definition of a klutz.

a knock came at the door, gally and minho standing there in the doorway, brenda in front of both of the boys.

"what happened?" brenda asked. much like the others did, she eyed his hand, worried.

"i was hammering something," he mumbled. "got distracted, i guess."

minho raised a brow. "distracted, huh?

"by what?" gally asked. a look of realization appeared on his face, and he internally facepalmed. minho and brenda, meanwhile, were snickering.

"oh my god," minho laughed, "dude.."

"what??" he exclaimed. "i didn't even say anything!"

he, gally, and brenda exchanged a glance.

"right, um," brenda spoke up through her laugh. "don't do stupid shit, all right? we gotta go. heal or something, i don't know."

thomas nodded, pouting as brenda ruffled his hair on the way out. after they left, he ducked his head down as an attempt to keep you from seeing the blush on his cheeks after basically getting exposed in front of you, the person he was convinced he was only slightly crushing on - little did he know that he was not only lying to everyone else around him, but to himself, too.

"you okay? does it hurt?" you inquired, genuinely concerned about him.

"only when i move my hand," he answered, to which you nodded in acknowledgement.

a beat. "i'm sorry."

your brows pinched together at his random apology. you had no clue why he was sorry. things like that happened all the time, and he definitely wouldn't the first person to drop a hammer on their hand. you guessed he wouldn't be the last, either.

"it's okay, don't worry about it," you reassured, your voice soft.

he frowned. "what about the roof?"

"it's fine, i can always finish it tomorrow with the others."

"am i a part of 'the others'?" he asked, voice hesitant like he was worried what your response would be. he didn't even know why he asked that or why he was worried - him being a builder was not something that would have a good impact on the safe haven.

"no, angel. not until your hand heals," you answered truthfully.

"angel" just did it for him. if his face wasn't as red as his bloodied bandages were before, it certainly was now.

he nodded, still trying to process something. whether it was the pet name, the fact that you were still holding his hand (not that he was complaining about that or the way you so effortlessly called him "angel"), or that you said that he could help out the builders once his hand healed, he had no clue. probably all at once.

"..and next time, you're not touching a hammer or getting near a hammer," you added.

"mhm, okay, got it," he agreed, and leaned his head on your shoulder. "no hammers in the future."

[chongoblog]

Do you think the reason so many new independently animated shows suck nowadays because they're written by artists & not writers? They all feel like Community bits that every fandom can apply to their favourite characters™ stretched out into 30 minutes rather than a story with consistent & chohesive plot, narrative, themes, structure & direction.

I mean I dunno which independent animated shows you’re referring to here. Most of what I’ve seen is pretty good, but I can still address what you’re probably trying to say here.

Like you might have a point that a lot of them probably aren’t Vince Gilligan level, but yeah there is very much a point that indie animated shows come from a place of love for the characters and animation over a love for a perfectly engineered plot. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

[mfjenks]

my omitb theories (+theories of others i liked combined) by now (after episode 6):

Considering the murder and the trio's escape:

-The trio are not actually the targets. The real targets are stunt doubles (Sazz, Glenn) and the bullet was for Sazz.

-The whole hunt for the trio is a red herring, it's not Sazz's murderer watching them and the person doesn't really want to kill them, but play with them. The same person as in season 1 as the note they got on their phones was the same Oliver got when Winnie was poisoned. Maybe it's Jan at the point even trying to protect them in her own perverted way, watching them, and she really was behind the messages which were not proved to be hers in season 1. Or Charles's sister, who is a fan of the podcast and has a huge crush on Oliver lol.

-They find out they are not really in danger in episode 7 or 8.

-Dudenoff's murder is the cold case Sazz was talking about, and that's why she was killed, beacuse she had found something out. Or it's not connected to her murder at all and he was killed by another person. Or it's a combination of both: it's that cold case, but still different murderers.

-The Brothers sisters, Vince Fish, Christmas guy, Eva, Eugene and Zach are not killers. That creepy family or the writer on the movie are possible.

-Sazz is the one with braids in the photo of Westies, working undercover.

Considering episode 7:

-Oliver leaves Winnie (and Mrs Gambolini? where is she?) to Howard later to be picked by Will. Ends up with Will being involved into Howard's animal jobs podcast lol

-Howard knows the location of the trio. He tells everyone it's a secret, but after being pushed cracks, so everyone knows it and heads to Charles's sister's house, from Loretta to Bev and the actors.

-Charles, Oliver and Mabel turn off their phones not to be tracked down. Hence Loretta can't even call Oliver back, she rushes to NYC with the first plane to explain herself. Loretta finds the house, sees Charles's sister flirting with Oliver, unwillingly becomes a centre of all the chaos going on in this damn house, Oliver avoids her still thinking she doesn't want to be with him and she came to play with him or break up, she doesn't understand what the hell is going on and becomes jelaous, until they both snap, revealing their insecurities, reconcile, talk about how much they mean to each other and he proposes once again.

Considering some photos from the set (if you know what I mean):

-Oliver and Loretta get married in episode 9. She leaves to LA for a small period of time to finish some shooting scenes there straight after the wedding.

Considering the finale:

-Loretta takes part in some kind of reenactment of events, made to reveal the killer, because of the resemblance with Sazz's cover-up (the braids). Maybe Sazz even got inspired by her appearance, hence the fact she followed her on Instagram.

-Loretta leaves gnorfbun and gets some offers which require shooting (or could be theatre) mostly in NYC. So she can spend most of her time in NYC and live with Oliver, but also can go somethere for shorter periods of time, so she doesn't have to be in all the episodes in season 5.

-Some time skip to Christmas takes place after the murder is solved and the podcast is finished. The premiere of the movie takes place. Someone gets murdered at the Arconia straight after the premiere.

-Possible victims: Teddy (important person to Oliver from his past (Mabel had Tim, Charles had Sazz), gives some potential for development of Theo's character and his relationships with Mabel), Uma

[aroacewxs]

not sure if this has been pointed out by someone already (and apologies if it was), but vince has one of francisco goya's paintings framed in his living room. it's titled "saturn devouring his children," and it depicts a very grotesque story of the god saturn devouring his children because he was told that one day, he'd be overturn by one of them.

fun fact about this painting: it's part of a larger series called "the black paintings," a series of paintings goya painted for himself to cope with his loss of hearing. they were all done on the walls of his house. saturn devouring his children, in particular, was painted on HIS KITCHEN WALL.

goya's loss of hearing. vince's loss of taste. i just think it's really interesting how vince has not one but TWO goya paintings framed in his house for this very connection.

the kicker however, is that vince's restaurant itself is named "la guele de saturne," which is french for "the maw of saturn." maw meaning, "the throat or the jaws of a voracious animal."

i think you can see what i'm getting at!! take what you will this piece of info LMFAO

[slashscowboyboots]

A few thoughts about "Nothing But a Good Time" now that I finally watched all of it:

It's a CRIME Vixen isn't more popular and Roxy Petrucci is a hoot

HELLLLO STEVEN SWEET😍yes king keep rocking that Jack Sparrow vibe

How no one died on the Motley Crue/Ozzy tour is a mystery to me

Even if Slash never existed, Tracii Guns would've still been thrown out of GNR. I love Tracii (I throw him in my fics every chance I get), but his personality is too much and I can't see the other guys keeping him in the band

How Blackie Lawless kept his nuts is another mystery to me (spoiler--he had an accident with explosives strapped to his crotch)

Steve Riley was awesome and the world is a sadder place with his passing💔

Kelly Nickels is sooo hot but he needs to lose that ridiculous hat

The Hanoi Rocks part nearly had me in tears. They would've been huge but Razzle's death was too devastating a blow

IZZY!! They didn't talk to him sadly but they did call out his Hanoi Rocks fixation (with a side by side photo of Andy McCoy--ouch)

How the HELL does Bret Michaels look so good??? He looks better now than he did on "Rock of Love!"

Does Jeff Tremaine not know what a disgusting dirtbag Tom Zutaut is??? Or does he just not care?

Sebastian Bach had to have done something to piss off the producers. No one called Vince Neil an asshole (even though he killed a guy and crippled two others and got like a half hour in jail), no one called Axl an asshole (even though he caused Izzy to quit and made his other band mates sign over the band name to him), but they dragged out NUNO BETTENCOURT of all people to describe what a dick Sebastian was (fyi, if Nuno calls you a dick, you probably are)

How the other members of Skid Row kept from killing Bas is yet another mystery to me

Alan Niven always looked like a sleazebag and he looks even worse now

Brian Forsythe is very charming and he seems very humble

What happened to Robbin Crosby will never not be heartbreaking

I would pay money to watch a totally animated version of all the events in the book