I Know I Don't Really Post Anything Else Than Fanfics Here, But I Do, In Fact, Like To Draw! And I Decided

I know I don't really post anything else than fanfics here, but I do, in fact, like to draw! And I decided to draw this lil' scrunkly goober! Look at my son!!

I wanna smooch him so bad. I watched scenepacks of him on youtube numerous times during the creation of this and omg, the scene where he opens gets his knife from the dashboard and exits the car? And then opens the door at the back to tell Wade and Carly to get out?? THE MFING SLIDE OVER HIS WAIST??? THAT MAN HAS NO BUSINESS HAVING SUCH A SLUTTY WAIST!!!

All in all, Lester is my stinky babygirl that can do no wrong.

Also, if you think the hands etc. look weird, yeah, theay do. Because the only reference I had were the scenepacks on youtube and those were in such bad quality, I couldn't see the difference between a dark shadow and the direction/shape of a finger. So...yeah, not ideal.

reblog to tell your mutual you’re proud of them and it’ll all work out

Lazy morning with Comte

Words: 516

Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; no pronouns specified, but Comte calls you chérie; established relationship.

He’s been awake for a while now, but he wants to savor this peaceful moment with you. With his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped securely around you, he envelops you in his embrace, softly nuzzling his face into your hair from time to time.

Comte both feels and hears it when your breathing changes pace, meaning you’re waking up too. A soft yawn escapes your lips as you stretch, and your hand goes to his arm to loosen it from around your body, but he tightens his hold.

“Hm…?” you hum under your breath, turning your head to glance at your lover with a hint of confusion. “Well, bonjour,” you smile warmly as you realize he is awake.

“Bonjour, chérie,” he chuckles at the confusion on your face.

You turn the rest of your body to face him fully, giving him a peck on the lips. He holds you in place by the neck to give you a proper morning kiss, and you can’t help but giggle, warmth spreading through your heart.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Not too long,” he replies, kissing your forehead.

“What time is it?” you mumble, propping yourself up on your elbow to glance at the clock. “It’s almost time to get up.”

“It is,” he replies, his arm gently guiding you back down onto the mattress and into his arms.

“I should get up already.”

“If you want to,” he smiles with such affection that his eyes crinkle.

“Yes,” you yawn, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand as you look at him with the same loving gaze he gives you. “This way, I can take my time getting ready before helping Sebas.”

“Of course.” He shifts his arm around you, adjusting his hold on your body.

You chuckle softly. “Comte?”

“Yes, chérie?” he entwines his legs with yours.

“Can I get up?”

He is still smiling at you, trying to disguise his true intentions of not letting you leave his arms so soon today.

“Excellent question,” he hums, pretending to ponder the answer. “Can you?” He peppers kisses on your face.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” you concede with a contented sigh, “But in a few minutes, it’s going to be an obligation, you know.”

“It never is,” he murmurs, trailing his kisses down your neck and nuzzling his face there. “I’m giving you the day off.”

“Comte,” you laugh softly as his lips tickle your skin. “I can’t do that.”

“I can.”

“I have lots of things to do with Sebastian. We’ll have a busy afternoon today.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll rest at least in the morning.”

He abruptly pulls you closer, causing your body to collide with his, and he tucks your face under his chin as a squeak escapes you. Comte laughs and kisses the top of your head, placing one hand on your head and the other on your back, rubbing relaxing circles with his fingertips while ensuring to keep you as close as possible.

You huff, knowing it’s a lost battle.

You end up taking the whole day off.

Taglist: @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest @chevcore @fang-and-feather

Masterlists

someone said something shitty to me the other day and I haven’t stopped thinking about how Bo would have been on them in two seconds flat for talking to HIS girl that way.

Like ha, you’re dead 😂😂

That probably shouldn’t comfort me as much as it does lmao but I thought I’d share

Ohhhh my god.😰Bo does not take at all kindly to people insulting the ones he loves hhhhhh it's okay that it comforts you! There's a lot of catharsis which can be found in horror, and who wouldn't want to be protected when it came down to it? Thank you for sharing hasdfghjkl ~ I was thinking on this some and I managed to spin a thing for you.👀

I woke up an hour ago; it’s like 718am so I hope this is okay!

TW; unspecified insult to reader, weapons, blood mention, murder, reader is morally grey, Bo is his own warning lmfao (I say this with love).

As always, GN!reader, no coded language, ‘you’ used!

Word count: 755.

Bo was usually playing up on his Southern Gentleman™ act when he came to pick you up from work in his pickup truck. He maintained that role until the truck was a safe distance away, and then he would let himself relax and you would have a proper greeting from the love of your life. But the second that shitty thing crossed the other person’s mouth while you were all waiting to exit the car park, the ruse dropped and Bo’s entire demeanour changed. His voice got a bit deeper, his smile faded into a cold cruel glare. Those baby blues you loved so much became ice, and his shoulders stiffened. A cold chill ran up your back and for a split second, you felt just a bit bad for the person who was stupid enough to insult you. Not just at all, but in front of Bo. 

But then the person smirked as if what they had said was funny, and you stopped feeling guilty. Mentally did it feel very much like grabbing popcorn so that you could better enjoy the show as Bo’s eyes narrowed. “You wanna say that shit again?” His voice was tight, his words running together as he stepped right up, challenging the person who had insulted you. Bo was intimidating and he knew how to make it even more so. He was giving the person an out, a way to change what they had said, though everyone had heard it loud and fuckin’ clear.

Fuckin’ asshole.

“Oh, so you can’t even stand up for yourself, Y/N? Sounds about right that you gotta get your shitty boyf - “

You had seen that look on Bo’s face before. That look when someone had just gotten themselves on the very top of his hit list. Those deaths were always the most brutal, the most unforgiving, the most awful, and this person had just bought themselves a one way ticket to Ambrose. You had a feeling that Lester would chuck ‘em in the roadkill pit. No way would Bo want to immortalise someone who had insulted you, and Vincent would be in agreement on that. The Sinclairs looked out for one another and that included you. 

“Y’think ya’ real funny, don’t’cha?” Bo looked left, right, took a step forward. His chin dipped, his eyes narrowed, his shoulders set as one hand dipped behind him. “I don’t. Ya’ fuckin’ dead.” You caught the silver flash of a blade from Bo’s back pocket, a deft flick of his scarred wrist all he needed to access his preferred weapon of choice. There was the rustling of Bo’s Dickies and then the person suddenly dropped, blood seeping out onto the asphalt, though you couldn’t see where Bo had struck. Efficient, quick and brutal was he. Bo smirked to himself and you could see that he enjoyed what he did. Perhaps you found a bit too much comfort in the way he protected you, but what did it matter? 

What was done was done.

Bo wasn’t even breaking a sweat, so strong was he, and he turned to you, taking you in fully since that person had insulted you. “C’mere, darlin’,” Though Bo’s jaw was set, his eyes still hard and his shoulders still straightened as he stood at his full height, you felt so safe in going to him. His arms, already opened in preparation of you, enclosed you and you melted into Bo’s chest, your arms winding around his neck and your face burrowed into his chest. if that meant being stood uncomfortably, then so fucking be it. You wanted Bo and you wanted him now. “Ain’t right what they said, Y/N’.” Bo’s arms tightened further around you and you smiled, the gesture hidden by his black clothing, but he shifted to better accommodate you and a strong hand ran up and down your back in smooth, solid motions. Bo ducked his head to press a kiss to the top of your head, and then he slowly let you go, one hand on your forearm and the other digging into his pocket for his phone.

“Lester, meet me at - “ Bo gave Lester the name of your workplace. “Got sumthin’ to go in the pit. It don’t deserve Ambrose.”

You would never be brave enough to point out all the things wrong with the last sentence. Still, you were safe, loved, protected and you gave as good as you got in every way. It wasn’t an easy relationship, but nothing worth doing ever was.

time of year i remind every cane user to get an ice pick so you dont fall and die

Karl Heisenberg who doesn’t know how to face his feelings and who is unfamiliar with domestic affection so instead of outright telling/showing you how he feels he brings random things to you as an offering, sort of like a cat.

“Heisenberg, what is this?” you ask, staring at what appears to be a roughly shaped swan, made entirely out of metal. to be fair, it looks more like a mutation of the bird but you don’t want to offend him.

“…” he gives you a dead stare and says absolutely nothing and just looks at you, waiting for you to pick it up and take it. once you do he just leaves the room and doesn’t bring it up ever again.

this is different than when he’s showing off his other creations to you because when he’s doing that he’s loudly parading around his factory as he gloats about his genius. but when he’s showing you something specifically made for you he’s dead fucking silent.