#.joyriding.

[callmeblake]

Some of my favorites (that don't have fake blood) from Jeff Crespi's joyriding video photoshoot.

Taken on July 15th, 2014

Video uploaded September 4th, 2014

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

A Catfish??

All of the bat children are horrified when they found out the boy Damian has been talking online, someone they were expecting to be a 5’3 twig. Someone who Damian has been crushing on for years turned out to be a 6’3 muscle-bound fucker that makes Jason look small.

They are even more horrified when they realized they never gave Damian the internet talk and for some reason Bruce is not reacting like this is something of concern and what the fuck-?!

The reason Bruce is not freaking out like the rest of his kids is quite simple.

He can see the last of the baby fat clinging to Danny’s face, he notices how even though Danny is a walking tank of a being, he still glances at the doorways like they could not be trusted.

Like he wasn’t used to his height.

No Bruce is not concerned, because all signs and research just points to one fact.

Danny Fenton has came into a Fenton-sized growth spurt.

[whatsupspaceman]

we could have mobile games like cool math duck life and papas pizzeria and bloonz tower defense and old masterpieces like original angry birds and jet pack joyride and small online games like webkinz home before dark and polar bear plunge and flash games like holeio and snake and we could have barbie dress up and horse riding and we could have them all without thousands of shitty 2 minute ads and microtransactions and unskippable popups and imbedded app store links and we could have new games new incredible story based adventures, puzzles, well designed mini platformers, we have an entire universe of unexplored medium right here in the palm of your hand! we could have REAL games! real wonderful games not misleading not clickbait we could have everything in the whole wide world and we could have them them on the phone! WE COULD HAVE THEM ON THE PHONE !!!!!!!!!!! DOES IT NOT MAKE YOU SICK???? DOES IT NOT SHATTER YOUR HEART !!!!

[bandi-fundi]

I WOKE UP IN A NEW BUGATTI

[shopcat]

attempted voluntary vehicular manslaughter

attempted voluntary manslaughter

arson

assault and battery

vandalism

breaking and entering

disturbing the peace

joyriding

grand theft auto

destruction of public property

destruction of private property

destruction of federal property

shoplifting

evading arrest

speeding

driving under the influence

underage possession of alcohol

possession of dangerous drugs

unlawful posession of incendiary device

unlawful possession of explosive substance

public mischief

criminal mischief

brandishing a deadly weapon

criminal threats

assault by means likely to produce great bodily injury

trespassing

obstruction of justice

failure to report a felony

first degree burglary

engaging in anti-government conspiracy

[feralmoonlight]

cowboys are ok I guess @castercassette

[swervesbar]

You could say he's B) toast

[whoreforhorror]

Slasher with an S/O who self-harms

Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair

Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood

Billy Loomis

Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed. 

He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.

You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?

Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.

He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.

You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.

He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment. 

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”

Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.

Hannibal Lecter

The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?

Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.

“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.

And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.

He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.

Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.

He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.

Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?

Rusty Nail

Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.

“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.

He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.

When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.

As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.

He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.

When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well. 

He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.

Michael Myers

Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.

Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.

When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.

He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock. 

Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.

Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.

Bo Sinclair

It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?

Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out. 

“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you. 

“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.” 

You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. 

He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.

“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself. 

In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.

After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.

Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill. 

Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself. 

[futuristicdoormats789]

personal space

sketched this out this morning as a little treat for you all, as a thankyou. The love for the ultrakill art i posted yesterday was beautiful and flattering <3

[howlingday]

Mercury: Don't go sticking your tongue into my business, Arc!

Jaune: I know a thing or seven about having a shitty dad, Mercury. And as for your business, Emerald is my friend, Roman, my boss, and Neopolitan is my bride to be!

CRME: YOU WHAT?!

Emerald: Archarisma, NO!

Jaune: Actually, that was just me bluffing to distract Mercury, but I'm down if she is.

CME: SHE'S NOT!

Roman: In place of her father, I fully support this relationship if that means anything.

CME: SHUT UP!

Emerald: What about Weiss?!

Yang: What about Ruby?!

Gillian: What about me?!

Cinder: What about me?!

Nora: What about- Cinder? But you hate Jaune!

Cinder: Yeah, but now that everyone's getting Arc'd, I'm feeling left out!

[callmeblake]

Some of my favorites (that have fake blood) from Jeff Crespi’s joyriding video photoshoot.

Taken on July 15th, 2014

Video uploaded September 4th, 2014

[dailyflicks]

JOY RIDE (2023) Dir. Adele Lim

[archiemcphee]

Axolotl Joyride!

The Axolotl Joyride is a pink axolotl driving around in a pullback white axolotl car! You might look at this and think, “That axolotl is a little full of itself.” I mean, it’s considered gauche to wear a shirt with your own band on it, so what does it mean when you have a 5-3/4" long, soft vinyl and plastic car shaped like yourself? What a cute little egomaniac!

[fluffy-little-demon]

ayo (if you feel like it) write a fanfic about your fav slasher's reaction to y/n stealing their shit like a lil goblin rat; could be a shirt, a jacket, a fav dessert, their hat etc, etc lol

I am so sorry this took so long 😭 I hope this is ok and you like it 💕

I did Rusty Nail, Bo Sinclair and Michael Myers (I had peepaw in my head but I guess you could read this for any version)

Rusty and Bo call the reader baby Bo also calls the reader a little minx

Rusty Nail

Gif by @tinalbion

Rusty had put his jacket on the couch momentarily while he went to fetch his phone from upstairs. He came back down and went to grab his jacket only to find it had gone. Rusty chuckled to himself as he walked towards the kitchen where you were making a cup of tea.

"Baby could I have my jacket back please I gotta go."

"But I'm freezing and this is really warm plus it smells like you."

"I could just stay here but then we wouldn't have anything to eat"

"Can't I just come with you. Pleasee?" Giving your best puppy dog eyes.

Rusty rolls his eyes pretending to be annoyed "well come on then, hurry up and put some shoes on."

You quickly but carefully poured your tea into a travel mug to drink on the drink into town. Putting your shoes on while Rusty went upstairs to get another jacket.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had come back home from working in the gas station to have some lunch. He was in the middle of making a sandwich when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind.

"Hey baby" he says as he turns around in your grasp to kiss your forehead. "You had any food yet?"

"No, I was planning on taking some and Jonesy to that lake in the forest."

"M'kay, just be careful"

"I will" you place a quick kiss on his lips before making your own sandwich. You also pick up a packet of crisps and a can of pop.

"I'mma get back to work, ya gonna be ok?"

"I'll be fine honey" giving him a sweet kiss before taking his hat off his head and it on yours.

"Oi ya little minx, that's mah hat"

"I gotta go byeee" you wave as you walk out the door.

Michael Myers

Michael was looking around for the new hoodie you brought him last week. He had checked the bedroom, the entire wardrobe and the drawers had been emptied, their contents lying all over the floor. He had checked the washing basket. Picked it up and emptied it on the bathroom floor. His hoodie wasn't there either. Michael walked into the living room to ask if you knew where it was, only to find you curled up on the couch wearing the exact hoodie he was trying to find. Michael let out a sharp of air out of his nose before deciding to lie down on the couch and pull you on top of him.

Tags: @sketchy-rosewitch @rottent33th @phantomcat394 @lanamiller comment or send an ask to be added or removed from the list.

[aesthetic-otd]

Today's aesthetic is joyride

[corydonart]

frank iero joyriding