#I just can’t be bothered to be accurate about that when drawing.

[tahopo]

What did Kaleb do at the landsmeet?!?! Also how tall is he (asking for a friend 👉🏻👈🏻)

Kaleb conscripted Loghain and made Alistair marry Anora. Incredibly unhinged behaviour for someone who: 1) wanted Loghain’s execution 2) promised Alistair participation of that execution 3) discussed a marriage proposal to Anora literally the night before. Sike to the highest degree.

He’s 7’0 💙

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 

You don’t even know where they got that one from. 

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 

Or he could help you. 

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together. 

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 

He’s giving in now, giving into her. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[serejae]

margaret

myung jaehyun x doodler!reader

syno; a pencil lead you to him now

a/n ; uncapitalization is intended, some kissing, inspired on our beloved summer besides the exes factor lol :-), enjoy

it was a late night, jaehyun wasn’t home yet and you couldn’t quite fall asleep yet. so you decided to kill two birds with one stone. ever since you were young you had a hobby of drawing, it was normal for you to get asked from people to draw them. unfortunately for them your drawings don’t focus on people but rather sights. as you organized your old drawings you came across a dusty folder hidden all the way in the back of your shelf, curious to see what it is you grab it and clear the dust off. the cover of the folder doesn’t go unnoticed with masking tape messily on it with the words “DO NOT OPEN. YOURE CRAZY.” written on top. you laugh to yourself slighty and take the risk going against your past self. when opening the folder a tiny pencil falls out and all the memories suddenly flash back. picking up the pencil, you immediately sit down and go through the folder.

-

it was almost 2 years ago. you were sketching in a cafe when you got distracted by your phone that you didn’t notice one of your pencils falling out of your pencil case. someone suddenly diverts your attention away from your phone. looking up you see the most (not even exaggerated) mesmerizing man, his lips turn up slight and he clears his throat “sorry for bothering you, but your pencil fell” he said with a slight blush on his face and reddish ears. you laugh slightly and thank him expecting that to be the end of your conversation but to your suprise he paused for a second thinking about what to say

“are you here alone?”

the wise answer wouldve been no, i mean you dont even know the guy

“yeah”

“can i sit?”

-

while reminiscing the moment you played with the pencil, the pencil was special, not only because it lead you to jaehyun but the steps it took to realize you loved him.

there were 2 drawings of jaehyun. the only drawings you ever drew of a person

-

drawing 1 .

its been 2 weeks since you met jaehyun. you both had been talking regularly and you hated it: not because you disliked him or anything but rather the opposite. you found yourself developing a

crush. :-/

as you sat at your table shaking your good pencil between your fingers staring at the blank paper that seems to be staring at you back. thats when you started imagining eyes, nose, lips, a face on the paper but not just anyones face. it was myung jaehyun’s. you never had the urge or willingness to draw a person but something inside your soul was telling you to. trying to push the thoughts back you starting thinking to yourself

“i don’t even remember his face accurately”

“its been 2 weeks pfft”

*ding*

pausing at the notification you flip your phone over and the screen illuminates.

myung jae !

**ONE NOTIFICATION **

“if your not too busy do you wanna ft?:p”

fuck.

before replying back (a obvious yes) you scramble your desk for the pencil he had handed you that day. the pencil was tiny, you kept it because you kept forgetting to throw it away but once you find it you reply with a

“sure”

cant seem too desperate right?

and as he calls you and the screens connect, your met with a familiar face and start doodling. focusing on his voice and you drew, you looked up every so often studying his face.

after finishing you date the corner and shove it in the back of your drawer.

-

drawing 2 .

your crazy.

its been 9 months since you first met jaehyun and it takes every muscle in you to not draw him. you can’t feed into your delusional or into the thought that you might have a crush on him. at this point its more then a stupid crush. you would say you just really really really like jaehyun but you guys werent even dating yet and thats the problem.

everyday for these past 9 months the two of you have become incredibly close, might i add a little too close.

all you could think about was him and normally in situations like this you would draw things you like to get your mind off of whatever you were stressed about which sadly wouldn’t work in this situation

as he was what you like and all you could think about.

after a hour on debating (3 minutes) you sigh and open your camera roll, opening the album “mjae<{3” your favorite photo of him, one you didnt even know you took but there was something different about the photo

his eyes.

theres no way he couldnt feel the same about you, right?

shut up.

you stopped the thoughts and started doodling, sketching all the details on his face. youve memorized his face probably more then your own now that you think about it.

adding the finishing touches and dating it, you back away from the paper and stare at it

how does he have you wrapped around his finger so well?

grabbing your phones you search variations of questions into google

“why cant i stop thinking of a guy”

“how to know if you like a guy”

“does my crush like me????” you made sure to find one made bv a guy to insure accuracy.

unfortunately the answers didnt help you

they all lead back to love

and thats when you realized

you don’t really like myung jaehyun

your inloveeeeeeee with myung jaehyun.

jumping onto your bed you scream into your pillow and go into a rage. scrambling around your room you find a folder, empty everything inside, get tape from your desk and aggressively put the tape on there. taking your marker you write “DO NOT OPEN. YOUR CRAZY.” you stuffed the current drawing in there as well dug in your drawer for the previous one. once inside you grab the pencil that started it all and put it inside too. then shoving it to the back of your shelf.

-

a year after meeting jaehyun thats when he finally asked you to be his partner, he had asked to meet in the same cafe you 2 had met. you arrived on time while jaehyun was a bit late, you didnt mind too much though. while waiting you scrolled on your phone when you suddenly heard a voice

“excuse me?

i think you dropped this.”

you look up confused and see a bouquet of flowers with a sticky note attached to it

“be my partner? (plz)” as well a silly drawing of you and jaehyun as cat and dog. looking up you see his familiar face that has a reddish tint

“of course.”

-

you hear the door open snapping you out of your thoughts

“baby? im home!”

“at my desk jae”

you hear him shuffe his way to your desk and kisses you on the head before looking at your desk

“oh look! its the pencil i gave back to you when we first met, you still have it?” he laughed, his eyes shift over to the two drawings on the table of no other then, him.

“woah…”

he said as he picked up the drawings seeing the dated marks

“these are amazing babe, but i thought you didnt draw people?”

you look down at the pencil and smile

oh you couldn’t wait to tell him the storied behind the drawings

you looked up at the sticky note on your wall before opening your mouth

“funny story…”

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ellis Twilight Both Ends Bonus Story 🗡

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. This is a SUMMARY/Semi-Translation of the bonus story. I am roughly translating this with out much research other than specific lines from certain scenes. Why? Because it's a huge task to translate a main route chapter line by line. So, this is what we're working with, and I appreciate your understanding ♥︎ Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. The summaries will be uploaded in groups.

I thought my love would make my loved ones unhappy. So I tried to only think about the other person.…..I think about my brother smiling happily that day. But I also suspect that I may have twisted my own memory. - I think he was actually very frightened. Like the lives I took for Crown. Such thoughts blur my brother’s smile that day. The truth is, I can’t even remember the look on my brother’s face at that moment anymore.

Ellis is waiting for Kate outside of a store. It’s been about 10 minutes since she’s entered and he’s getting antsy with worry about being approached by strange people. As he debates if he should go look for her or not he sees her through the shop window and is put at ease, but she was chatting with a man amicably inside which Ellis notes that she’s smiling at the man as he opens the door for her. He wonders about who the guy is and then Kate runs up to him apologizing about keeping him waiting. They talk about the man she was speaking with and he apparently helped in the past as a postal worker by drawing a map for her. Ellis called the guy a “nice person”, but was analyzing the guy in his head; he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives, and his smile seemed genuine, plus he held the door for her. At this point, Ellis seems to compare himself to that man with himself because that guy can offer to help someone in a very natural versus Ellis who can not do that since he wants to kill someone even more if he likes them more.

He recalls his Dad telling him the day his brother died that, “Killing people and laughing about it is something demons do….Repent and atone and you may still be forgive.”

(Forgive me? Who?)

(I just wanted him to stay happy.)

(Is the way I show my love unforgivable?)

Kate is the only one he’s really confided to about his past and more and more he’s getting selfish with wanting her to love him. Because only she has forgiven him. He offers to carry the bags for him, but she refuses and it shocks him, so he let’s her carry them. He’s sad that he can’t hold hands with her, so he wraps his arms around her shoulders instead and they head back to the castle.

(I wonder if you’d be offended if I told you that I was a little anxious?)

There is a flashback to when he rescued her and she confesses that she accepts Ellis for wanting to keep the happiness of his loved ones within his grasp.

Flashing forward to the present. Jude & Ellis who’ve just finished a mission, he tells Jude that he’s sure it’s normal to feel pain when you kill someone, and Jude is like: Oh?? He wipes off the blood-soaked knife before he sheaths it; staring at the puddle of blood that spreads like splattered jam, Ellis says: “But, I’m not bothered to do this kind of work.”

(Kate is kind enough to grieve.)

The guy at the grocery store, I wonder if she’d be happier if he were her lover instead.

(But I could never let that guy take Kate away from me.)

(I don’t think I could tolerate it.)

Jude: Huh, what? Ya wanna be “normal”?

Ellis: ….no.

I don’t want to be someone else. Kate said she liked me because I’m me. It’s just -

(What can I do to make Kate smile?)

(I keep thinking about it.)

That night at the castle Kate greets Ellis when he gets back home, who was reading in his room. Kate had recently been taking an interest in Ellis’ and Jude’s work and so she decided to study up on business material. It was a serious task, but Ellis thinks it’s wonderful. Ellis didn’t let her go on the mission tonight because of the level of difficulty and because it was going to be so bloody that he wanted to protect her from it. So, she waited up for him so they could have a drink together.

She said that she’ll get the drinks ready in a set of new mugs that have matching designs on them. Ellis asked if the mugs were from her secret shopping trip before lunch earlier that day, and she confesses it was. As she offers herbal teak, hot milk or alcohol to him, he approaches her from behind and hugs her from behind and says that he prefers Kate over those options. Rubbing her cheek against his arm she says okay, feeling his hands slowly crawl up body.

(Kate’s so soft.)

It’s so different from his own, so when he touches it he gets worried.

(It’s too easy to break.)

Ellis pulls down the top of her negligee and slowly squeezes her breasts which makes her moan, and he asks if she likes it when he does this standing behind her. She says that she does because it feels like she is being completely surrounded by him and it makes her happy.

(It’s no good….Kate.)

(You’re too cute.) Ellis kisses and touches her in many of her favorite places, and even though he wants to make Kate feel good, he is painfully aroused….

Ellis: Then, I’ll do you from behind today.

Kate: Ah……

Kate squeezes his fingers inside her and Ellis pushes Kate onto the bed.

(Oh…..)

(My head is a mess.) ……Which one love???

I want to feel good. I want to feel good with Kate. He looks at her tear-stained eyes.

(It looks like Kate wants to feel good with me too….)

(Is it my imagination or….I don’t know.)

For you, for me, it’s all a jumbled mess..

Kate: Ahhhh!

Ellis: ……Ah…..Ah…..

Ellis hugs Kate’s sleeping body in the middle of the night and thinks she sounds cute. Sometimes, he thinks that they’ve reached their happiest moment as he loves her with his bloodstained hands, for another day. He dreams of the day when his dirtied with her blood.

(…..I want to stay like this forever.)

(With you in my arms.)

(I want to stare at your happy sleeping face.)

The end of this happiness, I don’t want it to come either. The moment you’re killed by me Kate is also the moment -

(Oh.)

Kate slowly lifts her eyelids and look at him drowsily and she laughs at Ellis. He asks why she’s laughing at him and she says it’s because she woke up, and Ellis was right next to her and she thought she was happy.

-No matter how much I dread tomorrow. Even though I’m not sure if you’ll really be smiling on that day that will come someday.

(I can’t help but love this person.)

Ellis: Kate….

Kate: What….?

Ellis: I love you.

Kate: ….Hm.

Ellis: I love you, I love you…..I love you.

Kate: Hmm….hehe….what’s up…?

I bury my face into Kate and she holds me to her chest. It smelled like sweetly simmered jam and it made my heart ache.

Kate: ……Ellis, are you crying?

“No,” I almost reflexively said that, but now I don’t have to hide these feelings anymore.

Ellis: …..Yea, because I’m happy.

Ellis: I’m glad because you’re smiling.

Kate: I see…

Kate reached out and patted Ellis’ head.

Kate: I love you too, Ellis.

(I’m willing to be killed right now.) I bet that if I told you that tomorrow morning that I really thought that, you’d laugh again.

I’m sure there will be more of these supremely happy moments waiting for me.

Fin.

[Master List]

[bullet-prooflove]

Crime Wave: David Hale x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators bennykk kelpies-shed

Companion piece to Graffiti

David Hale wants to court you.

It surprises you because up until now the men in your life have been interested in one thing and one only and that’s fucking you.

When he calls you that night, you fully expect it to be a booty call. It’s past ten pm and you’re curled up in your arm chair, listening to the sounds of the 70s, 80s,and 90s over the radio as you sketch out a scene from the café on Main Steet earlier today. It’s nothing special, just a flower that you saw in a glass of water but you haven’t been able to get it out of your head so you’re committing it to paper. That’s usually how your art comes to you, you see something in the wild that sticks in your brain and you can’t let it go, not until you’ve drawn it.

Usually it’s people. You have entire sketchbooks dedicated to folks you don’t know the names of because you’re fascinated by their posture and facial expressions. It’s the reason you decided to draw David this morning.

When you met it had seemed like he carried the weight of the world up on his shoulders but in that moment, asleep in your bed, he’d seemed relaxed, free. You’d wanted to capture that. You didn’t intend to give the picture away and the phone number had been a last minute addition, hastily scrawled as he was heading out the door.

The truth is you never expected him to call.

“Don’t tell me it took you this long to find my number.” You tease after he greets you.

He laughs and that sound, you don’t realise how much you’ve missed it during the twelve hours you’ve been apart.

“It’s been a busy night.” He tells you as he sits at his desk, reviewing the arrest reports. “It’s been hard to find a moment between throwing the regulars in the drunk tank and arresting delinquents for drawing dicks on other people’s property. It seems you’ve started a trend, one that’s going viral.”

“You’re kidding right?” You say, tapping your pencil on the surface of your sketchpad and you can envision him shaking his head with that amused expression of his as he surveys the evidence.

“I wish I was.” He tells you and you hear the chair creak as he leans back in it. “Cars, mailboxes, shop windows. You’ve inspired a crime wave.”

“Honestly David, I’m so fucking embarrassed.” You say as you press your fingertips to your lips. “Let me make it up to you.”

“This is dinner and a movie at least.” He tells you with a humorous lilt to his voice. “I can give you a tour of your handiwork afterwards, we can rate them, biggest to smallest, most anatomically accurate…”

You can’t help but laugh and on the opposite end of the line David feels something blossoming in his chest.

“I actually took some pictures for evidentiary purposes if you’d like a preview.” He tells you as he scrolls through his phone. “I thought I’d ask as I’m against sending unsolicited dick pics to women I’ve just met.”

“That implies you’ve sent some to women you do know in the past.” You tease and you swear you can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“I can neither confirm or deny…”

“Some would consider it a form of art.” You say as you survey the images he’s just sent you. There’s some real creativity going on in these pictures, you’ve never seen such a variation of cocks. You wonder if you should be putting together some sort of art installation.

“Like your life modelling?” He prompts and you tune back into the conversation.

“Does that bother you?” You ask him. “That other people see me naked on a regular basis?”

It’s been a source of contention with most of your previous partners. They don’t understand that life modelling isn’t about sex, it’s about the art form, about providing a subject for students to learn from, to develop. It’s not a job for just anybody, you have to be comfortable with yourself, sociable enough to put the artists at ease especially in the beginning stages of their journey.

“No.” He says and you can tell he means it. “You have a beautiful body.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” You ask him and he hesitates.

“Yes.” He says finally. “But I think we should wait for that dinner and a movie.”

You read between the lines.

I want to fuck you, but I want to date you too.

“Tomorrow night.” You say as you scroll through your phone searching for the movie listings. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

So I was reading your Athena & Apollo headcanons and it made me think of a hc to help fill a (very mild but infinitely frustrating) plot hole in the books! (Well, plot hole is stretching it, it’s not even a plot dent, more like a detail inconsistency that affects Literally Nothing but it has driven me crazy since I read mcga)

The detail in question: Why are all of Athena’s kids blonde and (possibly) curly-haired, when Annabeth is said to get her hair from her dad and Athena has never actually appeared as a blonde? (Aside from that time in Sea of Monsters but tbf that was a hallucination so possibly not accurate). It’s bothered me for a while, because Athena doesn’t Do romance and therefore it wouldn’t really make sense for her to have a Type, right? Why would someone attracted to mortal’s intellect care about their hair color? I guess I just figured she’d been blonde for a while and decided to go brunette later, but the “dumb blonde” stereotype has been around for a long time, having been especially prevalent since the ‘50s, and I can’t imagine Athena to want to be seen as anything less than the smartest person in the room.

But then your hcs got me thinking… we know that Athena is very proud, but she’s also deeply insecure. Like, “she got made fun of for playing the flute One Time by two goddesses known to be bitchy that she already did not get along with and threw it into the woods with a curse and refused to pick it up again (until Apollo coaxed her to)” insecure. And she doesn’t have very many friends, does she? Apollo’s kind of all she has, other than mortals, but her relationship with mortals is that of a devotee and a god. Reverence is not the same thing as connection. But Apollo, who is in a similar boat to her, makes connections so easily! Even at his worst, he makes people like him against both his and their will. Even his relationships with his devotees were… well they were messy lbr but they were also very genuine, most of the time. There was something more, there.

So, all this rambling to say: what if the reason Athena’s kids all look so similar is because Athena chose to look like Apollo? I don’t think she chose to act like him, but. I dunno. Maybe she thought mortals would like her better if she looked more like her pretty, popular brother. She’s always had to listen to people, mortals and immortals alike, praise her brother for just about everything while she had to fight for even a scrap of respect. Maybe she thought she could absorb at least a little of that something that makes people genuinely like him. That something that draws her to him again and again. Maybe it’s like armor, pulling on her brother’s face. If they don’t like her, it’s not because it’s her, right? Apollo’s been driving everybody crazy lately, anyway… (and yet, he’s still more beloved than her…)

And that ALSO feeds into my preexisting headcanons about Apollo looking like a Chase, which is fun!! (I think his modern godly form looks more similar to Magnus but Lester has a face/hair texture that is really, really similar to annabeth’s! So when he bashes the two forms together he makes the two of them look even more like siblings because he’s basically a bridge between the two of them, lol. But his old godly form looked strikingly similar to Annabeth in a lot of ways… hmmmm.)

Anyway it’s kind of a convoluted hc and once again falls into the “Apollo is the specialist little guy in the WORLD” mindset but I!!! Just like it!!!! When siblings are weird and messy!!! And admiration gets mixed up with jealousy and genuine affection is twisted by circumstance and time!!! And identity issues!!! And loneliness!!! It’s latching on to someone and having them be your whole world when you know that you’re just a small part of theirs!!! AUGHHH. Weird fucked up Olympus dynamics my belovedddd

HELLO LONG ASK

I never noticed this before, but this explanation seems Interesting👀

And don't worry, this fandom basically goes "AND THIS IS WHY APOLLO IS [insert description here" ALL the time XD

BUT YES THE COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP EAT THEM UP WE ARE EATING THEM TOGETHER!!! :D

[nightghoul381]

Dead or Love ~ Ellis Twilight

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

Kate, I want to be your Santa Claus.

The kind of person who only gives you kindness.

However, the more time I talked to Kate,

The desires that I buried deep inside my heart and kept a lid on were writhing.

(Kate.)

(You, only you, make me… just a little crazy.)

Ellis: “… I don’t want Christmas to end just yet.”

Kate: “Eh?”

I pulled Kate’s arm closer and looked into her face.

Ellis: “Kate, will you be my Santa Claus this time?”

Ellis: “You can listen to my selfishness.”

(If I say that suddenly, will that bother you?)

However, contrary to my expectations, Kate’s face suddenly brightened up.

Kate: “Yes, of course! I’ll do anything I can.”

(……)

Ellis: “Fufu, you’re really…really cute.”

Ellis: “…Then, will you kiss me?”

Kate: “Ah, K-kiss?”

(Her eyes are blinking… so cute.)

Because Kate reacts so kindly and cutely,

I bury my desires deeper and deeper, keeping it a secret from Kate.

(Let’s think about the selfishness that will make Kate happy.)

(…That’s it.)

Ellis: “I’ll save the kiss for later.”

Ellis: “Instead… I want you and me to have fun together.”

--Courtyard—

Kate: “Ellis, what you want to do is… play in the snow?”

Ellis: “Yeah. This is the first year it’s snowed.”

Ellis: “…Do you hate it?”

Kate: “Fufu, no way. I’m kind of excited.”

Kate: “What do we do? Snowball fight? OR—”

Ellis: “What about the snow rabbit?”

Kate: “Oh, that’s great! Well then, let’s see whose is the cutest.”

Ellis: “Then I’ll make a snow rabbit that looks like you.”

Kate: “If that’s what you want, I’ll make you the cutest little Ellis bunny.”

Ellis: “But… if you use me as a model, won’t you lose?”

Kate: “I won’t lose. I’m confident.”

I can’t help but laugh at Kate’s disappointed face.

Ellis: “Then, let the match begin.”

The two of us squat down, scoop up snow, and work wholeheartedly to make a snow bunny.

(…When is the last time you played like this?)

When I glanced at Kate, I noticed that she looked more serious than I did, which was kind of cute.

Maybe I like seeing Kate working hard at something.

(I thought of a grown-up date to make Kate happy.)

(But… maybe a date like this would have been better.)

With Kate, no matter where I am or what I do, I feel like I have a lot of fun.

Ellis: “…Yeah. I’m done.”

Kate: “Me too. So let’s show each other.”

Ellis: “Yeah, okay.”

Kate / Ellis: “Ready, set, go!”

Kate: “Wow, Ellis, your snow bunny is so cute!”

Ellis: “Yours is too. I guess this is a draw…?”

Kate: “Fufu, right.”

(I finished making the snow bunny… Maybe I should have made it a little more slowly.)

Kate: “Ah, Ellis. Are you free for just a little longer?”

Ellis: “…? Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

Kate: “I feel like this isn’t enough, so I would like to add something else.”

It seems like Kate is still trying to give me something.

(Kate, Santa Claus is a great service.)

--Crown Castle—Common room—

Kate: “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ellis. Here it is.”

Ellis: “…Hot milk?”

Kate: “Yes. Your hands got cold from playing in the snow, right?”

Kate: “Besides, I was happy that you made some for me earlier, Ellis.”

(You remembered me.)

Ellis: “Thank you, Kate. I’ll take it.”

Kate: “Also, when I went to the kitchen, Victor brought out some sweets for me.”

Ellis: “So many. Fufu, it’s like a party.”

Kate: “Yes, it’s our very own midnight Christmas party.”

We drank hot milk, snacked on sweets, and talked about nothing.

It’s like Christmas when I was a kid…

Memories of a distant day seemed to tumble into the palm of my hand.

Ellis: “Kate, I lied to you, a little bit.”

Kate: “…Lied?”

Ellis: “I told you that when I was a kid, we had Christmases like any other…”

Ellis: “Christmas like anywhere else ‘was’…true.”

As I told you before, my house was a really normal house,

It was a Christmas like any other.

The candles on the Christmas cake were always blown out with a single blow.

(But)

Ellis: “One day, everything fell apart.”

Ellis: “I wanted to get it back somehow, I tried my best but…”

Ellis: “Maybe I was the one to screw everything up in the end.”

Kate: “…”

(Maybe that’s why I was relieved every year when Jude assigned me a job.)

(If I stay busy, I don’t have to remember what I broke.)

Kate was just quietly listening to me.

Then, she murmured in a voice as calm and gentle as falling snow.

Kate: “Ellis, when you suddenly remember things from the past and are having a hard time… I’ll be by your side.”

Kate: “When you don’t want to remember, let’s talk more like this again.”

Kate: “…and, this is such a beautiful thing…”

(Aah, Kate.)

(If your words were beautiful things, there would be nothing more beautiful in the world.)

Ellis: “Thank you, Kate.”

Ellis: “Hey, just one more thing… it’s selfish, okay?”

Kate: “Of course, what is it?”

I went behind Kate, who was sitting, and hugged her from behind.

Kate: “Ellis…?”

Ellis: “My family and I used to do this together and hug each other on Christmas.”

Kate: “Yes, that’s what this is? Well then…”

Kate wraps her arms around me and hugs me back.

(Kate, I’m sorry, that was also a lie.)

(I don’t know why… I wanted to do this with you.)

Again, deep within my heart, desire is writhing all over.

(…no, don’t go wild.)

(I want to be nice to you, Kate.)

Kate: “Ellis, um…”

Ellis: “Not yet. Please, let me stay like this just a little longer.”

After all, I don’t think I’ll be able to become the kind of Santa Claus that everyone likes.

A few days passed and before I knew it, the snow bunny I had mad that day had melted away without a trace.

When I told Kate about this, she laughed.

Kate: “Let’s make them together again next year.”

She said.

I can’t explain it well, but I was kind of… happy about that.

Very, very happy.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

[sincerely-sofie]

Seeing as you have finished writing the script for your AU thingy, I wanna know, how?

Like, were you motivated the whole time? Or was it a on and off writing type thing?

i'm trying to write but I don't know if I have the motivation...

How did you keep the motivation if so?

Oh man. I have so much to say about writing and creativity that I could make an entire series of posts talking about the subject, but I'll try to keep things orderly and brief.

Disclaimer: I should let you know that I have never finished a writing project before recently finishing my TPiaG AU. Keep that in mind when reading the advice I offer— the tips I give have only been put into work in my own life over the course of the last couple of months, but they’ve proven very effective in my experience!

Sofie Creativity Tips Episode 1, go!!!

Was I motivated the whole time I was writing TPiaG / How did I stay motivated?

Absolutely not. If I hadn’t provided myself a detailed chapter-by-chapter outline for TPiaG before starting the writing process, I would have given up thanks to a mix of writer’s block and absent motivation. Motivation is a fickle muse and prone to ditching me for months on end, so I’ve adapted by trying not to rely on it, but also by creating new motivation rather than clinging to past motivation. I create motivation for myself in two ways: removing friction when writing and being my own fandom.

Removing friction is pretty simple— I create very detailed chapter outlines that remove any fear of writer’s block, set up my devices in a way to make it easy to access my manuscripts and notes, download premade writing playlists that have Pomodoro session break timers built into them, and more. Anything that makes the writing process easier to get into and enjoy doing, I make sure to incorporate into my life.

Being my own fandom is less intuitive, but a thousand times more rewarding in terms of motivation. I make memes of my characters. I write self-indulgent snippets on the side. I make AUs of my own work. I make playlists and save audio clips that suit the characters. I draw comics exploring concepts that might not get into the manuscript itself but that I want to make content for regardless. Basically, I dive in deep into the story, characters, and world, and try to do so with the enthusiasm that I give other people’s projects.

(That part is extra fun, because if I have a headcanon, it automatically becomes canon to whatever AU or original project I’m working on. I have all the power in the world when working like this, and it’s very fun.)

What changed and made it so I finished my first ever written project?

This isn’t exactly what was asked, but because I have eschewed motivation as the main driving force in my writing process, I figured I’d give another insight into how TPiaG went against the pattern of half-started and swiftly abandoned projects that came before it and actually got finished. Late into October, I adopted a new method of producing first drafts. Previously, I would spend weeks polishing the same chapter and would only move on to the next chapter once the current one was perfect. My new method is the complete opposite. I’ve started calling it Writing BFF:

Write bad

Write fast

Write fun

First up, write bad. The point of this is not to waste your time writing prettily during your first draft. Don’t bother agonizing over how to reword that one sentence to be more elegant when it does the job well enough to get its point across. Don’t go off on a 30-minute research tangent in the middle of a writing session because you want to fact-check that one detail and make sure it’s perfectly accurate when you could just put a placeholder detail in brackets and CTRL+F search and plug in something accurate later on. Don’t write pretty, write bad. And be okay with it. You can’t edit an empty page, so fill the page with as much garbage as possible so that you can turn it into gold later on.

Next, write fast. This is only effective when paired with writing bad. Don’t pause, don’t hesitate, don’t deliberate. Write as much as you can and do it as fast as you can. This idea is best illustrated by Chris Fox’s book 5,000 Words Per Hour, where he talks about increasing your WPM (words per minute) and how it makes everything about your writing better. The person who creates a beautiful first draft once every three years is doing okay, but the person who cranks out a complete manuscript every three months learns leagues more about writing than the first person does by the end of three years. The second person has practiced outlining, drafting, editing, publishing, and more with every manuscript completed. The faster you write, the better you get, because practice makes perfect and quantity begets quality.

Finally, write fun. I write what I enjoy, and if I’m not enjoying it, I pivot the project so that I enjoy it again. I like writing deeply personal stories, so pretty much everything I write is heavily based on my life and experiences— TPiaG included. Grovyle’s portrayal is deeply influenced by my experience being an elder sibling who has been a bad example of self-talk, and cleaned up my act because my younger sister started echoing how I spoke to myself. Dusknoir’s portrayal is informed by my experiences with being the therapist / mom friend in different social circles as well as attending actual formal therapy. Twig is the character that my experiences have the greatest influence on in her portrayal, and I joke about her being a self-insert, but ultimately all of the characters are self-inserts to some extent. I also enjoy low-stakes and slow slice-of-life stories that are driven by character growth. If I ever stop having fun with a project, I inject more of myself and my preferences into my work to get it back into my favor.

TL;DR / Writing advice lightning round

Write as badly as possible as quickly as possible, and have fun as you do it. Momentum yields motivation and stagnancy yields doubt. Editing comes only after the first draft is complete. Be your own fandom and your project’s biggest fan. Give yourself direction and ward against writer’s block by making detailed chapter-by-chapter outlines. Make the writing process as easy and enjoyable as possible. Motivation is a lie and if you chase after it instead of making your own, you’ll be writing on hard mode for the rest of your life. Reject perfectionism, embrace flawesomeness.

If I didn’t answer your question right, let me know! I’ll do my best to correct it.

[nightfallgame]

SHORT — Hisa Igarashi (02)

Originally Written: 07-05-21

Prompt: A/b/o Au featuring Omega!Hisa, Alpha!Reader, and a whole lot of jealousy. Plus Hisa being an awful brat. What else do you expect?

Hisa is an Omega. He’s aware of that much. Of course, he’s pure enough that he never suffers through the undesirable cycles that come with one’s dynamic, nor does he live with the unnecessary instincts of it. 

Unlike Kegare, he’s above such things. The defiled one could never measure up. In fact, there are surely very few people in the world who can reach Hisa’s standard of purity and superiority. For as long as he can remember, he’s known— and been told— how much better he is.

And normally, Hisa doesn’t get attached. Guests come and go from the shrine often. He greets them all politely and attends their visits, but never thinks twice about the common folk he interacts with as part of his job and lifestyle. None of them are worthy of his attention, after all. Or more accurately, they weren’t. Not until a certain Alpha began to come by. 

You’re a frequent visitor. Your sister died in an unfortunate accident. You visited, at first, because of that. By now, Hisa thinks there’s more to it. 

But... you smell good. Your presence is strangely assuring. Hisa has never been one to care much for dynamic or the nearness of an Alpha, but when it’s you, he finds himself more eager than ever before. Something about you draws him in. Perhaps you’re a pure person as well. He doesn’t know enough to say for sure, and yet, your bright smile and kind words make it seem true. If you are, you don’t seem to be aware of it. 

Hisa sticks close to you. When you’re there, now, he trails after you, even to the extent of neglecting his other duties. He wants to spend time with you, no matter how strange the behavior is compared to his usual self.

You always smile at him. You’ve patted his head a couple of times. He’s tiny next to you, and for some reason, that makes Hisa feel safe. When you’re nearby, he feels calmer. He rarely bothers to snap at Kegare or remind those who disrespect him of his status as one above them. 

When you visit this time, Hisa is fully expecting to be as close to you as ever. But when you walk through the shrine’s gate...

There’s someone by your side. An Omega, just like him. 

Hisa’s breath catches in his chest. He doesn’t know why, but the sight of it sends a quick shock of something hot and vicious through him. Looking at the other Omega, with his sweet eyes and pleasant smile, his body even smaller and slighter than Hisa’s own, that hot feeling surges and crests like a wave. Hisa growls low and under his breath. He doesn’t like this. 

You speak to him just as always. The Omega beside you greets Hisa pleasantly. He returns it, but his tone is far more clipped. Looking down his nose at the Omega, Hisa analyzes his everything. Anything about him that could have been what drew you in. Whatever it was that caused this. 

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to know what you favor. 

“Who’s this?” Hisa asks. He gives the Omega a glance that (most likely) clearly highlights his displeasure. It doesn’t seem to do anything. 

“My friend.” You’re lying. You have to be. He doesn’t believe it. 

“I see.”

From there, the visit goes mostly the same as it always does. Hisa follows you and the Omega, growing more and more agitated as time goes by. You don’t seem to notice— or at the very least, you don’t care. 

The longer he watches you laugh along with the sweet, cheerful Omega, the deeper Hisa’s frustration begins to run. He wants to chase the other boy off. He wants that Omega to leave and never come back, and for you to stay with him and never leave. A strange, hot, dizzy feeling is settling somewhere in his head and in his belly, and Hisa can’t place what it is. He’s never felt anything like it before. What could be happening to him? 

Hisa bites back his jealousy until he can get you alone. That other Omega, impure, doesn’t deserve you. That much he knows for sure. 

“Could you come with me?” Hisa asks, trying to sound pleasant. 

You follow him. Hisa takes you to one of the back rooms of the shrine, where no one will hear your conversation. You ask why. He has no answer. He doesn’t know why he wants to be alone with you so badly right now. 

“That person...” he starts. 

“Are you jealous?” You cut him off. Hisa twitches at the true words. 

“Why would you assume that? I’m simply concerned for you. You’re making a poor choice, associating with an Omega like that. If you can’t tell, he’s impure. Not like me. You shouldn’t waste your time,” he huffs. But as Hisa speaks, he sees your expression shift to something far less contented. 

“Hisa, that’s rude. You shouldn’t talk about my friend like that. We’re not together, and even if we were, I can be with anyone I want. Don’t be a jerk.” You turn to leave without looking back. Hisa’s panic spikes. 

“Wait!” he calls. He grabs your arm with his little hand. 

You look back at him, unamused. Hisa’s stomach twists. He doesn’t like that look. You’re displeased with him, and that shouldn’t matter, but all his stupid, traitorous brain can think is that he needs to fix it right now. 

But he doesn’t know what to say. Not at all. Hisa hesitates. He stares at you desperately, internally praying that you’ll stay. He doesn’t want you to go back to that person. He needs you right here. If you look at another Omega, it means he’s not good enough, and that would be more than he could take. You’d be wrong, you’d have to be, but— You have to see him.

Tears spill over from his eyes before he knows what’s happening. A frustrated, hiccuping sob crawls its way up from his throat. 

“Don’t go,” Hisa whispers. “I’m better, I promise.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Is it just me or has the card illustrations (specifically the groovy) been kinda bad lately? Like don't get me wrong most of the pre groovy are absolute bangers, but the groovies? Not so much. But lately there has been an obvious decrease in quality with anatomy, and even 😐 a whitewashing problem.

Take Lilia's dorm groovy for example— the piece is gorgeous, but whenever I zoom into his face the way they draw his face looks so off.

As for the whitewashing issue, I've noticed that Leona's beastly garb groovy had him very ashy looking (but some may argue that it's just the lighting casted on him)

Right now though the one that's been bothering me the most is the obvious whitwashing on Kalim's tsum groovy. We really can't argue that it's a lighting issue there, cause Jamil's firework card had a similar setting and he didn't look that light.

Personally, I think TWST’s Groovy illustrations have always been hit or miss since the beginning. I have similar issues with the faces in Lilia and Leona’s Dorm Uniform Groovies, and the anatomy seemed slightly off in a few others. I can’t find the original post anymore (I think OP didn’t tag it??), but I clearly recall an artist having spoken about how the pose in Epel’s initial Dorm Uniform art looked weird; they included drawings of how Epel’s spine and limbs looked vs how they should look to illustrate what they meant. Those are just a few examples of then and now though, and we have to keep in mind that if we include ALL available cards then the funky faces and weird posing/proportions only make up a very small percentage of what’s out there.

The more important issue at the moment is the coloring choices that were made for a few recent SSR event Groovies: Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim. They are pictured below with a few other card illustrations I pulled that have similar lighting (or as similar as I could find). You’ll notice (especially for Tsumsted Kalim’s Groovy) that the characters’ skin colors are much lighter than they should be.

Now I’ll be honest here 💦 I actually can’t tell (even when eyedropping the colors to compare; I don't even know if eyedropping is an accurate way to compare colors since the lighting and environment in every illustration is never EXACTLY the same) if Leona’s Beastly Garb Groovy is just the strong sunlight or if it has been whitewashed. I don’t have enough knowledge and/or experience with color theory and in real life to know for certain. However, as the Anon has said, that same argument cannot be made for the Scarabia duo. It’s particularly bad for Tsumsted Kalim because Yasmina Silk Jamil also had fireworks in the background, and his skin color is fine there. Sometimes artists purposefully use an altered color palate to achieve a different feeling in their pieces (for example, pastel colors for a soft, soothing look). I don’t think that was the case for Tsumsted Kalim because everything else in the Groovy art looks pretty true to color for the lighting (but again, I'm not an expert in coloring so I could be wrong). When taken in conjunction with Leona’s Beastly Garb… it could indicate a troubling pattern.

There’s been a lot of speculation going around for why this has happened, chief among that speculation being the TWST team has likely hired new staff and/or colorists (and Japan, being Japan, is pretty homogenous; it may be difficult to find artists with an understanding of how to color and shade darker skin tones). Again, these are just guesses circulating in the fandom. Nothing is confirmed, and nor does this excuse what has happened.

This has, very understandably, caused a lot of hurt and upset in the TWST fandom and community. So now the question is…

What can we do about it?

You can communicate your feelings to the TWST team! They have a form to collect thoughts and opinions from the playerbase, which can be accessed here.

PLEASE NOTE:

Be polite and professional. Nothing good comes out of anger, especially if the anger is directed at others; if you are rude and/or curse at the staff, they will be much less likely to hear you out.

Communicate in Japanese. The staff you are sending your complaint to are Japanese, and the game itself is Japanese (Beastly Garb Leona and Tsumsted Kalim are not yet out in the EN server, which is staffed by totally different people).

If you don’t know how to write in Japanese, this Twitter user has created polite templates to communicate our concerns with the whitewashing. (Their whole thread is great; please reference it if you need additional assistance!!) I would not recommend adding extra text, especially if you would be relying on a translation program to do so. Speaking in broken Japanese can be perceived as rude and will only detract from your message.

A similar situation to this occurred during the initial run of Fairy Gala; TWST had used “exotic” in its text, and after receiving an influx of feedback from the players, the devs went in and changed the dialogue to no longer use the term. It’s possible to make the change we want to see a reality if we respectfully make our thoughts known.

[marriedzukka]

can i interest anyone in a retgmt16 snippet on this fine evening

Zuko gently rubs Sokka’s left calf where it’s draped over his lap, watching curiously as Sokka untangles the wires of a TENS unit. It’s kind of a bitch to set up with all of its wires and electrode patches and buttons, but he’s become fond of it lately in lieu of his heating pad during the hotter summer months. Then again, because he’s Sokka, he loves any excuse to play with a gadget of some kind, even if it’s at his own expense. The TENS doesn’t have a stupid nickname yet, but Zuko figures it’s only a matter of time. 

Sokka scrunches forward to unwrap his knee, methodically placing the sticky sides of the TENS patches around it instead. Easy as anything, he catches Zuko studying him, and a smile pulls at his lips. “Looks weird, I know.” 

Zuko’s thumb moves softly over the faded surgery scar just below his knee. “But it helps?”

His eyes soften as he places another patch. “Yeah, Sunshine. It helps. Usually.”

“Can I do the next one?”

"I got it," he shrugs, slowly peeling a bit of plastic film off of the last patch. “It’s not rocket science.” 

“So even I can do it, then.” 

There. Zuko likes it when something he says makes Sokka smile. He should do that more often.  

“Fine." Sokka places the last patch in his outstretched hand and lies back against the couch. “Don’t fuck it up.” 

“Or what?”

“Or it won’t help.” 

The patch is weird and sticky, suddenly awkward to hold as he hovers it over Sokka’s knee and tries to find the right spot. There are wires everywhere, more patches and scars and knobby knees. It may not be rocket science but there’s definitely a method to this madness, and Zuko suddenly realizes that he doesn’t actually know how to interpret it at all. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason it doesn’t work, or cause Sokka any more pain than he’s already in. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“Where the fuck am I supposed to put it?”

Like the sun on the side of his face, Sokka's eyes are on him, watching this all go down with unbridled fondness. 

“What?!” Zuko snaps.

“Nothing. Just love you.” 

His smile is utterly disarming. Zuko can feel the blush creeping up his neck. “Love you too.” 

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up and tell me where to put this.” 

“Can’t do both at the same time.” 

“Sokka.” 

He laughs and leans forward, using his finger to draw invisible lines from one patch to another in an X shape over his knee. “See here? The channels are crossed like this, so it covers more surface area. So that patch needs to go opposite this one. There’s other ways to do it, and it could change depending on what part of the body you’re trying to work with, but that’s basically it.”

Zuko follows his direction, carefully placing the last patch in its designated spot and gently smoothing it down. “Now what?”

“The fun part.” Sokka lies back again, grabbing the handheld machine on the other end of the wires and fiddling with the dials. “I usually start at level two, and work my way up to a five or six if it’s really bad. Can’t go much higher than that though or it might make it worse.”

Zuko listens intently, making several mental notes. Something fierce and protective washes over him; so often, he feels helpless when it comes to easing his partner’s pain, but he’ll do whatever he can, whenever Sokka will let him. And sure, Sokka could do stuff like this himself if he really wanted to, but he doesn't have to. Not anymore. They're in this together now.

“How bad is it?” 

Sokka hums, considering. “I'm only on level three. At least for now.” 

It’s a small relief. He rarely goes a day without pain anymore, or maybe more accurately, he’s been more honest about how often it’s bothering him. To think that there were probably countless times when he was hurting and said nothing makes Zuko’s stomach twist with guilt. All that pain and still, Sokka kept showing up for them. 

He doesn’t see how amazing he is, but Zuko does, every day. It’s hard to ignore something that bright.

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS 10th Aniversary Ficlets (Day 10)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Previous days' ficlets now Ao3 by ship/genre! Stucky | Gen | EvanStan |

Also readable on Tumblr! Links under today's ficlet.

Ten | April 4th | Theme: To the end of the line | Prompt: 1940s, reunion | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, Bucky Barnes Recovering, romance, first kiss (since the '40s)

Bucky has a lot of strange dreams. Nightmares, images that might be memories mixed with ones he’s sure couldn’t have ever been real., and things don’t make sense at all. Sorting it out feels damn near impossible.

Even with the slightly better grip on his own memories that he’s regained these days, and even with Steve’s help, it’s still hard to work through.

Most of the time, he doesn’t bother trying. Dreams are honestly the least of his worries. So he tends to just shake them off, no matter what.

But lately, he’s been having this recurring dream. It’s been happening multiple times a week, and it’s starting to really get to him. And not because it’s a nightmare or a disturbing dream of any sort.

It’s not. It’s actually —

It’s about Steve. It’s about him and Steve, and what he now knows to be their old apartment in Brooklyn and —

In the dream, Steve is sitting on the couch. That’s how it always starts. Steve’s sitting on the couch, and Bucky sees himself walking across a wooden floor and then leaning over Steve's shoulders, looking at the sketch pad on his lap. And, in the dream, they both look how they did back when they’d really lived in that apartment. But in his sketchbook, Steve has drawn Bucky looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image.

Then, in the dream, Bucky grins at Steve, as if this image is an expected thing to see, and he always says,

“How bout that you got my good side for once,” and that makes Steve laugh and set down his pencil so he can puts a hand around one of Bucky’s arms.

“Didn’t know you had one,” Steve says, tugging Bucky closer to him. He’s always still laughing,. They’re both always laughing.

That’s when Bucky watches himself bend lower and put a hand hands on Steve’s neck.

“It’s looking real good, Stevie,” Bucky says, every time, as Steve’s head turns toward his. “I like this one.”

“Glad to hear it.” Steve’s grin is so close to Bucky’s own mouth, and he’s still tugging on Bucky’s arm. “Guess it’s accurate.”

“Oh, such flattery,” Bucky says, somehow even closer to Steve’s mouth than before.

And then. Every time.

They kiss.

And that’s when Bucky wakes up.

It’s really not a bad dream.

Honestly, Bucky really wouldn’t mind if he kept having it. He well, he thinks a lot about kissing Steve when he’s awake. That’s a thing, too, lately. He doesn’t know what to do about that. He can’t quite figure out if the wanting is remembering something he’s always wanted, or if it’s a new thing. Either way, it makes the dream pretty enjoyable, if confusing.

But he’s had it eight times in two and half weeks, and he thinks there’s gotta be something to that. A message, or something.

When he wakes up from a nap and the 9th version of it — on a couch with Steve already in the room, it feels incredibly hard to shake off. It feels —

“You okay?” Steve calls. He’s got a sketchbook in his hands.

“Yeah.” Bucky sits up on the couch and watches Steve’s hands as he draws. “How long was I out?”

“Only about an hour,” Steve says, sending him a smile. “Didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head.

The dream is still floating in his mind, and with Steve right here, it’s —

“You sure you’re alright?” Steve sounds more concerned this time. He puts his sketchbook down.

“Just a dream.” Bucky waves a hand. “Told you how they are.”

“Sure,” Steve says, not seeming any less worried. “You can tell me about it if you want.”

Bucky shakes his head, but then he notices what Steve’s been drawing. The sketch Steve was working on is him, looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image. It’s not exactly the same as the one Bucky’d seen in his dream, but it’s close.

Bucky stares at it, quiet for long enough that Steve reaches out and puts a hand on his arm.

And suddenly the dream starts feeling very real, and Bucky wonders if —

If it could be a memory.

“You drew that in my dream,” Bucky says, pointing to the picture. “Close to it, anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowns.

“I keep having this dream,” Bucky says, pushing the words out before he changes his mind about saying them. “About you and me in our old apartment, and you’re drawing, but you draw me now, not me like I was then, like I am in the dream.”

“Oh,” Steve says, slowly. He nods, and he gets up to sit next to Bucky on the couch.

“And we kiss,” Bucky says, eyes locked on Steve’s face when he does. “In the dream. We joke around about you drawing me, and then we kiss like — like people who do it all the time.”

Steve’s breathing and pulse change.

“We — we did,” Steve says, flushed, but meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Might be a memory. Memories.”

“I was wondering,” Bucky says, nodding. “Keep having it so often, and then this time you were here, and I thought —“

“Right,” Steve says.

“I hoped that was right,” Bucky offers truthfully. “It’s a good dream.”

“Yeah? You did?” Steve brightens noticeably. He outright beams at Bucky.

“I did,” Bucky says, pleased when Steve sets a hand on his arm again.

Bucky doesn’t really remember a lot about how to do this, he’s been watching himself put a hand on Steve’s neck before kissing him for weeks. It seems like a good move. So he repeats it now. Bucky puts a hand around Steve’s neck, and he lets Steve tug him in a little closer with that hand on his arm —

And then they’re kissing.

But this time, Bucky doesn’t wake up as soon as it starts.

He gets to keep kissing Steve.

🎆Nine | April 3rd | Theme: Cap Quartet | Prompt: Breakfast/Washington D.C. | Words: 500 | Canon divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, implied Sam/Natasha, Steve and Natasha friendship, low-stakes fluff

🎆Eight | April 2nd | Theme: Bucky Barnes | Prompt: Ghost story | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergence | Gen | No Warnings | Steve/Bucky, Post-TWS, dancing, Bucky Barnes recovering

🎆Seven | April 1st | Theme: HYDRA | Prompt: Project Insight | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not rated | No warnings | Bucky POV, implied Steve/Bucky (in a similar way to, you know, the literal plot of CA: TWS.)

🎆Six | March 31st | Theme: Sam Wilson | Prompt: Partners/Missing Scenes | Words: 350 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Sam and Steve friendship, a tiny teaspoon of Sam and Riley emotions that you can interpret however your heart desires.

🎆Five | March 30th | Theme: TWS Cast | Prompt: Stunts | Words: 350 | Mature | No Warnings | RPF, Chris Evan/Sebastian Stan, very light/implied sexual content (but throwing this one under a cut just in case), sexual thoughts/tension, intentionally unspecified POV

🎆Four | March 29th | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Prompt: Trust Issues | Words: 350 | Canon compliant| Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Natasha and Steve friendship

🎆Three | March 28th | Theme: SHIELD | Prompt: Surprise Visitor | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | But: very brief Steve/OC (sort of), and, I guess, privacy invasion via audio recording? I don’t know how to tag that. It’s canon that Steve’s DC apartment was bugged. So?

🎆Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

[unvolver]

Re: power bottom Paul, I don't think this is a terribly hard nut to crack. Otoh I have never found Paul strange or opaque like some do, his actions have always made sense to me. But the primary thing about Paul is that at his core he is always shamelessly out for himself. That's how he can nuke longterm relationships overnight without a lot of guilt, that's how he uses people so shamelessly. It's not that he doesn't care but he will absolutely not bother himself with making connections that are deeper than they have to be if they don't benefit him.

IMO power bottom Paul is exhibiting this same quality. I've always viewed Paul as a bottom but a shameless and greedy one. He'll ride your dick but he'll also keep riding it until you fall over exhausted and then he'll mock you for being weak lmao. I think with John, Paul trusted John enough to let John see the selfishness that lies at Paul's center, hence why John treated Paulp (accurately) as the most dangerous person in the room during the break up. Their lovemaking would reflect that.

Paul would not necessarily see or understand John's veneration of him, he's too familiar with his own self to perceive that. But he would see that John enjoys being dominated and even denigrated, which is a big gift to a guy with a bottomless sexual appetite that can't get off John's dick on a good day. I think for Paul it is more explicitly a power thing where he can drain John's balls. To which I can only think that Paul must be a grand fuck. IMO Paul letting John fuck him is also a sign of acceptance, making John a part of Paul's inner life and letting John make room for himself in more ways than one, eyebrow wiggle.

to continue with my thoughts: i’ve never been a fan of paul being forced into a cookie cutter submissive bottom role. my own personal preference though of course! i just can’t see him just letting john do whatever he wants to him if he isn’t getting something out of it. paul’s ego and selfishness i feel like is often glossed over, when i think it’s one of the things that draws me to him. he’s needy and demanding, and i think it reflects in a sexual relationship.

also agree, i don’t think paul would really notice the insecurity and lack of self worth that would cause john to be in a submissive situation in that, paul’s only going to focus on his pleasure at that moment. he’s just happy that john is willingly to do this for him

[spicyicetea]

OK OK OK

I've been so distracted by Submas recently. They are my favourite train boys, they make my Autism go Brrrr. Lowkey such a simp but recently I’ve fallen down AU rabbit holes. My favourite by far is a Story by @onestepbackwards called Our Angel which is a Greaser!Submas x reader AU.

Firstly if you haven’t yet read what is up currently, DO IT. It is so good, all of their work is, and it low-key has made me feel so much better as I’ve been unwell recently and I’ve even used some of their stuff to calm down from anxiety attacks. I can’t recommend a writer more right now, and please treat yourself and check them out. If you do just remember to be respectful and please don’t bother them too much about writing more, gotta keep respectful boundaries after all :)

Secondly, after reading their story, and then gobbling every other bit of Greaser!Submas I could get my little fingys on, I decided to draw the brothers from the AU in the way I pictured them in my head. These are most likely not accurate at all to how they picture these boys but I was just doing this because ADHD suddenly decided what we were doing for the next hour or so. This took me far longer to finish than I meant so I hope people like this, I had to do the boys justice and I’ve never drawn them in my style before. So here! I was going to get rid of the top bust shots where I was trying to figure out how to draw their hair and make them look different but I left it in cause I kinda like them.

If you’re interested in the Greaser AU, then again check out @onestepbackwards. When going through the #Greaser!Submas I also stumbled upon @r0-boat and @smallestapplin who also have incredible stuff written, I enjoy all of the stuff I’ve read so far from them. I already knew of @yanban-san as I stumbled across them a few months ago and they do a ton more AU!Submas and their art is incredible.

I know from when I use my Laptop to write my longer fics that sometimes the @ play up so I might write the @ again in a comment as those have never gone overly buggy for me, but I don’t know. If you’re one of the cool people I’ve mentioned:

Friends? and yes this is really a demand not a question /j

Your stuff is so cool, so please excuse my fangirling, I just couldn’t not talk about it somewhere.

That's my rant over, night everyone!

[blue-the-octoling]

The end of Tom Weaver

First time posting something I’ve written, please don’t be too harsh on me if it’s bad! (Also there is a drawing at the end of this) cw description of death

“Where are we going mama?”

Tom asks in his sweet but raspy voice continuing to walk with his hand holding his mother’s. Though she doesn’t answer and continues to look forward not paying attention to him only her surroundings. The woods eventually let up becoming thinner until there’s only a few small saplings in the ground leading up to the edge of the cliff his mother has lead them too. It overlooks more of the woods that have remained untouched by man.

It’s beautiful he can understand why his mother wanted to bring him here maybe one day he could bring Tim here and show him too. He feels her harshly tug her hand away from his, it doesn’t surprise nor bother him as he’s too caught up in the view, he can’t wait to tell Tim when they get home. He sees his mother take a step back out of the corner of his eye and hears her mutter something that sounds like prayer “mama? What are you-“

He can’t finish his sentence before he feels a hand on his back accompanied by harsh powerful shove that causes him to tumble forward and over the cliff his hands helplessly reach out to try and stop himself but it doesn’t work.

He can feel tears fill his eyes as he looks down at the fast approaching rocky earth his body slowly spins forward his vision slowly goes from the rocky ground to the cliff as he looks up he can see his mother look over the edge watching him fall he can’t take it. He closes his eyes his body tensing as he braces for impact. It doesn’t help. His body hits the ground with a wet crunch legs, ankle and arm snapping upon impact his spine bends to fit the form of the rock the pain was already too much for him he lets out a blood curdling scream that gets cut short as his neck breaks from the force of the whiplash.

His scream turns into wet sounding wheezes as he struggles to breathe he try’s to move he can’t as he weakly twitches he can feel every pulse, every drip of blood that leaves his wounds, every breath he takes feels like fire, as it presses his lungs against his broken ribs. His eyes close as he passes out from the pain.

When he regrettably opens his eyes again he is once again brought back to the painful reality of his existence it was just about dark he could see the sun setting in the distance. Why… Why was this happening to him…? He could never do anything right… he was born a devil … his mother constantly preached to him and Tim how they were spawns of the devil.

Now he’ll die alone a monster… a devil… finally he try’s to make a sound. To call out. “t-Tim..! Ti… m.. Tim ple… ase… p-please… Tim..” he quietly wheeze cry’s as his heart beats weakly he uses what little strength he has left to call out to his brother. The only one who cared. Tears run down the side of his face as he takes his final breath wanting nothing more than to know his brother was near again. 

I’m in the process of tweaking/redesigning the weaver children to be more accurate to both how they died and how I interpret them! I kept Tom pretty similar to his original design but I added more wear and tear to more accurately fit with how he died (also I think that animals got to him before he woke up as a ghost so I wanted to show that too)

[aizenat]

If someone is upset about a character they like idk why that is your problem? It’s not like it changes the show so really it’s silly to be rude to others?

Unless someone’s provoking you but your post did not appear to be angry at a specific human but a collective “your dumb” to people you disagree with… just saying

They are dumb. It’s not just about a character being different that’s bothering me: it’s the inability to interact with media and art that bothers me especially as a writer who actually honors what I do with writing as art. People are so intellectually stunted when it comes to media and art rn as a result of growing anti-intellectualism, and I’m going to call it out because y’all need to be better. I’ve had people make remarks on my own stories because they’re upset that my story that I wrote with my original characters isn’t playing out the tropes and shit they feel it should.

If you can’t understand that Lestat as he is in the show did not act out of character from what we’ve seen in the show because of your inability to separate the two mediums of art being used to tell this story, (the book vs the show) then you’re dumb. You are not good at media and art analysis. And you also fail to honor all the other changes done; oh you’re okay with Louis being Black and the story taking place in the 1900s and Louis and Lestat being explicitly in a relationship but you but you draw the line of the extremely toxic relationship being more accurately portrayed as an abusive one in 2022 because it makes your white daddy look bad?

If people take offense I want them to. Lol. Either get smarter or go on Twitter with that dumb shit. At least we don’t expect intelligent and nuanced conversations from Twitter birds.