#THE HECK IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!

[hermitcraft-alignment-charts]

i wasn’t gonna post today but then i met philza minecraft on the mcci server so i made this post just to tell you guys that i met philza minecraft on the mcci server

[sciderman]

Sometimes i hope the MCU recasts Deadpool for a younger actor because i'd love for people to stop shipping Ryans Deadpool with Toms Spider-Man. But also i got no idea who'd play him and i also don't trust MCU and Disney with Deadpool after what they did with other queer characters that don't fit stereotypes and simple labels like MCU likes to put characters in.

i don't really want the mcu to recast deadpool just to facilitate acceptable shipping between mcu spider-man and mcu deadpool.

i do not want shipping between mcu spider-man and mcu deadpool.

i do not want mcu spider-man or mcu deadpool.

i do not want mcu.

i'm kind of going to keep doing what i've always been doing, and i implore others to do the same. just do not give the mouse your money. i guarantee you will be 300% more sexier if you do this. your skin will be clearer and your wallet will be fatter. no downsides.

[oh-shtars]

Hi Flicker! I just wanted to check in, how's your outlining going? Have things slowed down enough for art requests or do you want us to wait a little bit?

Make sure to drink water btw! <3

Heya Bo!

Honestly no. I’ve been adding stuff little by little to my outline in my notes app but school is being an ass with my free time 🥲. I’m not close to finishing and I still want to invest my time on that but I really can’t completely at the moment. I’ve just been posting my drawings often since it’s my way of de-stressing and winding down after a hectic day.

I’d still be free for y’all to interact and ask questions though! But I won’t be taking any art requests right now 😅

[fruitsofhell]

One of my new surfacing gripes with FF7R is how a lot of moments from the original game that rested heavily on player investment seem completely stripped out of the remake in favor of everything being a constant 60 hour long movie experience.

Like every now and then I hear the original game get shit for not taking its political messaging seriously at certain key set-pieces that are too game-y and chill like Costa Del Sol and the Gold Saucer, but that's not the whole picture when you consider how much control the player has over the party in that game. Costa Del Sol was just where you landed on the next continent and there was like a guy or two to talk to to point you in the other direction, a few lighthearted interactions to break up the fucked up shit that happened on the boat ride over, and then you could leave. The idea that the original Costa Del Sol indulged in the tourist trap goes only as far as how you as a player approached the space, if you got to Costa Del Sol and felt "Oh, this is a shitty Shinra colonial project I hate it here" you could book it outta there and maintain some of that disgust, but you fucking can't in the remake and its horrible.

For some fucking reason the boat ride over is on a cruise ship instead of a military vessel like before, so instead of a funny moment of humanizing the soldiers by being miserable with them, you get this fucking card tournament quest where everyone is suddenly SUPER into all this shit and doesn't care about any of the obvious underlying bullshit of the boat? And then its even worse when you get to Costa Del Sol because likefhsjkdhf? Everyone is OK with this glaring parallel to real world colonization and exploitation of island nations? Even Barret who literally had an amusement park built on the ashes of his home village by the people who burnt it down? EVEN YUFFIE WHO'S WHOLE SHTICK IS HOW HER HOME WAS INVADED AND TURNED INTO A TOURIST TRAP????

I cannot speak 100% for the original, because I remember it also missing these opportunities and besides that my memory is hazy, but its the fact that it wasn't flooded with all these ridiculous cutscenes and extra set-pieces that force you into experiencing areas a certain way, and a way that is just really fucking OOC?? And like for as OOC as the original could be, THE REMAKE IS 25 YEARS YOUNGER AND WISER THAN IT, PICK UP THE SLACK? But instead we get a fucking beach episode where you can put the girlies in bikinis or some shit. It's such a waste.

I can't think of like a single moment of subtly that the Remake retained from the originals. And it DOES have them under all the silly tonal whiplash stuff that the Remake cranks up to an unhealthy extent.

[victorluvsalice]

Okay, with all the pictures and shells and fish and whatnot sorted, it was back to regular gameplay -- just in time to see Kelly sampling the fish platter I'd had to leave on the counter because I couldn't get it to drag into the fridge right away. XD I quickly got it away from her while I directed Victor to say hi to Shadow (who was very happy to see him again), Alice to grab the eggs out of the coop (two hatchable and one regular -- really gotta clear out all those roosters), and Smiler --

To start decorating the place! Or, well, to FINISH decorating it, more accurately, as I'd spent a little time dragging all their various Spookfest decorations, along with the two pumpkin carving stations, out of the attic while getting their pictures and souvenirs sorted. Some fun purple icicle lights for the eaves and black-and-white ghost banners on the fences completed the look --

As did Alice starting her pumpkin! Because a) you gotta have jack-o-lanterns for Spookfest and b) in my personal experience, the best way to complete the "Spooky Spirit" tradition is to carve a pumpkin -- interacting with ghosts and occult Sims is kind of iffy at best to get it to fire. *shakehead* Oh Sims 4... I naturally had her carve up a kitty pumpkin, on a pale orange pumpkin -- and she did so well that it turned out to be a masterpiece! :) Alice is just good at The Arts, what can I say.

And right after that, the first trick-or-treater showed up at the house! Smiler at the time was busy in the greenhouse brewing up a soothing skin balm potion (and getting their Herbalism skill up to level 6), while Victor was busy bathing Shadow (and then magicking away the resultant puddles), so it fell on Alice to give the visiting teen a trick or a treat. I had her quickly change into a costume, picking "space ranger" more or less at random, and give the kid some candy. Because she's a nice lady at heart, even if her "Loner" trait means she actually ignores the "Trick Or Treat" tradition herself. I then sent her inside to paint while Smiler started on their jack-o-lantern (a white one with a big grin on it, natch) and I sent Victor down to begin his (an orange one with an owl design, because I hadn't seen that one yet) --

And then, upon seeing the pets both downstairs, I went "hang on -- doesn't Kelly have a taco outfit? I should dress her up in that for Halloween! And Shadow as -- oh, wait, all she has is her little sweater and bow-tie...looks like we're popping into CAS for a second to get her a costume too!"

And so I did, choosing one of the "super-llama" outfits for her (in yellow and black, because you know that Smiler picked this out XD). Alice put Shadow and Kelly into their Halloween costumes, played a little bit of laser pointer with Kelly, then headed into the studio to do a playful painting, while Victor and Smiler got back to work on their pumpkins (going into CAS had knocked them out of their actions, and Smiler in particular had to start over because the game wouldn't let me resume their previous pumpkin, meh). So that was Alice and the pets all dressed up for the holiday...

[periprose]

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

/

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 

/

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

/

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

/

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

/

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck. 

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 

“I said, how is that any different from before?” 

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops. 

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 

You blink, tears rolling down your face. 

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

/

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

/

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world. 

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

/

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 

[themaevethcometh]

just realized that i’m not going to have a day off until mid february.

[astrolovecosmos]

It is a risk, a leap of faith to trust anyone.

Trusting an Aries is like reaching into or jumping through the flames, you see what you're getting yourself into, but not everyone comes out unscathed.

Trusting a Taurus is like trusting the earth to be there under your feet, it usually is, but when it isn't, you fall hard and unexpectedly.

Trusting a Gemini is like playing with a leaf in the wind. May seem easy, harmless, or carefree, but any second that leaf may be blown away.

Trusting a Cancer is like trusting the ocean itself, it can be nurturing, beautiful, needed, but also terrifying and deadly.

Trusting a Leo is like trusting a queen/king, your loyalty may be rewarded, or it may not.

Trusting a Virgo is like planting a garden, with care and patience it can grow and be plentiful, but sometimes you just don't get any fruit.

Trusting a Libra is like picking a rose, seems so easy and lovely, but watch out for the thorns. Libra may become the bestest friend or most kind-hearted lover you've ever had or a trap door.

Trusting a Scorpio is like taking a plunge into ice water or cliff diving, it can feel like a challenge, rush, or risk.

Trusting a Sagittarius is like playing a game of roulette, thrilling and for the brave. To some a game, others an addiction, and some a last minute impulse.

Trusting a Capricorn is like waiting for a promotion, investment, or deadline. It takes time and patience, and one can only hope it works out.

Trusting an Aquarius is like walking into the dark, around a sharp corner, stepping into the unknown. It can be scary but worth it for some.

Trusting a Pisces is like trusting the flow of a river. You have to let it take you sometimes, and other times you need to get the heck out!

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - The Beginning of the End (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: I got so many thoughts on this so bear with me. I didn't have the brain power to write this as a full fic so accept the various drabbles that will come out of this concept. Also If anyone has done this before, please let me know! I would love to read that! Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Themes, Slight Violence, Angst

You're currently on a probationary period to be the permanent Intelligence Operative for Task Force 141. Despite being trained and recommended by Kate Laswell herself, Laswell found a hard time finding a team that would treat you with the level of respect you were warranted as many saw you as a glorified assistant.

Frustrated by the blatant disrespect, Laswell calls Price, despite knowing that he doesn't like to work with strangers. After singing your praises and promising him that he would not be disappointed, Price concedes and decides to give you a chance. If after a year you managed to prove your worth, you would earn yourself a permanent position on his team.

But by the 3-month mark, Price and the rest of the team knew you were here to stay. They honestly couldn't believe that no one wanted to work with you. You were exactly everything that Laswell promised... heck, even more if you asked any of the 141.

You were always on top of your work as well as the boys', even jumping in when it got too much. Your attention to detail was impeccable as you managed to save the team both time and resources from faulty intel or bad leads. But, what really cemented your place on the team was the way you managed to worm yourself in each of their hearts. 

Before Soap even had a chance to pursue you, you sought him out first. Whenever you had a problem, instead of calling the Captain, or the Lieutenant, or even the older Sergeant, you always called him first, the Sergeant that still feels like he has a lot to prove. And when Johnny asks why, you say that he's already proven himself, which makes his heart soar. So of course, the Scotsman thinks of you when he's thinking of strategies to suggest or jokes to pull out during the next meeting. 

And when Kyle asked for your attention, you gave it without hesitation. While everyone else on base focuses on Soap's jokes, Price's wisdom, or Ghost's commands, you eagerly wait for Gaz' input, conscious of what it feels like to be talking while no one listens. You are enamored by everything he has to say, giving him your utmost attention, a rare thing for the Sergeant. Even when he pushes back on orders, you're the first one to listen and ask the rest of the team to just consider. So of course, Kyle looks for you whenever his mind begins to race.

And when Price falters, you're there to pick him up, never with an ounce of judgement. You're the first in his office, with a coffee or snack in hand (since you know he's probably forgotten to eat), and the last to leave it, putting as much time and heart in strategizing as he does. You remind him that he deserves to rest as much as his boys and that you'll never see him as less when his Captain persona cracks. So of course, when John finally has a chance to unwind, he thinks of you and your warm smile.

And finally, when Ghost tries to intimidate you, you stand your ground. You were aware of his reputation, but it didn't really phase you. He wasn't the first person that's tried to unnerve you. But instead of scaring you off, you managed to intimidate him after he catches you chewing out two rookies for bad-mouthing him. When he confronts you and asks why the passionate defense, you just shrug, reasoning that that's what teammates do. He has your back and you have his. So of course, Ghost becomes your shadow, jumping for the chance to protect you.

That's why when you're all at a bar, celebrating your 4 months with the team, the guys are loving by the fact that you drank more than usual. You've become much more bold in your affection for each of them. And they won't lie and say that they didn't like the heavy-handed compliments or even the intimate touches. However, it's when you start talking about a future with them that their patience nearly snaps.

"You know I'd gladly marry any of you." You admit as you finish your 7th beer. With your laughter in the background, they all still as they imagine what that would be like. Dressing up and waiting for you at the altar, his breath held in anticipation for you to bless the place and his life with your presence. Going to your now-shared home and taking you over, and over, and over, and over again until your body is leaking with his spent. Willingly giving you his mind, body, and soul for as long as the world allows him as a sign of gratitude for choosing him when you could have picked anyone else. They all stare at you as they all realize how badly they wanted to snatch you up and make this a reality.

You're so drunk, you fail to notice your teammates' hungry stares. But, they don't. Jealousy seeps in their bones as they realize that their captain, their lieutenant, their sergeant, and their fellow sergeant were all thinking the same thing.

So obviously, infighting starts. They still manage to get their work done but now it's a competition to see who can earn your praise. Now, the Captain's orders become suggestions. The Lieutenant's bark is just that. The sergeants' playful snips turn into snarls. The growing need to put the other in their place festers in each and every one of them. It's not great, but it's manageable... until it's not.

While Price and Ghost are arguing over the plans for the next mission, they get called into the gym. On entrance, they find Soap and Kyle lunging at the other's throat. Price grabs Kyle and Ghost grabs Johnny, pulling the two SAS soldiers off from one another. The damage isn't serious, but it's there: Kyle's lip is torn and the corner of Soap's eyes is bleeding. It's clear they're not done yet as Kyle snarls at the Scotsman, telling him that you would never go for a fool like him. Soap retaliates and barks that you wouldn't go for a wimp like Gaz.

Realizing what's happening to his team, Price calls an emergency meeting in his office. With all men inside, the room is tense. No one speaks.

"We need to put a stop to this," admits Price with a heavy weight in his heart. As captain, he knows that for the sake of the task force, tough decisions have to be made. They were soldiers first before men. The men shrink under his gaze, realizing what has to be done.

"So from here on out, they're off limits. Whatever relationship you have with them, end it." Kyle and Soap open their mouths to argue, but Price quickly silences them.

"And if you can't control yourself, I'll have them transferred. Understood?" John felt his stomach lurch with his statement. He couldn't imagine kicking you off the team, but he had to push that feeling aside right now. If him and his men didn't get their shit together, innocent people would suffer.

"Yes sir," grunts out Ghost. He slowly makes his way to the door.

Soap nods his head, eyes sharp and jaw tense. He's right behind the Lieutenant.

Gaz waits a bit and stares Price down. "You sure about this?" he spits at his captain.

Returning the stare, Price stands firm on his decision. "Positive. It's what best for the team." Gaz just nods and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

You're not entirely sure what happened in that emergency meeting, but with the way the guys walked out of Price's office, you knew it wasn't good. Ghost walks past you, completely ignoring you. Soap looks at you but quickly turns his head when your eyes meet his. And Gaz shoots you a grimace, but doesn't say a word.

Despite not knowing what happened that day, you quickly feel its consequences.

Word Count: 1310

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[mobbu-min]

☆ erm, let's not do that ☆

requested by anon! Hi there! So i would like to request The overblot gang with a S/O who likes to pick on their fingers whenever they are stressed and considering what Yuu have to go through, they would have a bloody hand if it werent for the fact they use gloves when they are really stressed out. (They dont wear gloves often because it will look weird when it doesnt fit the outfit but will wear it if necessary). So what are the overblot gang (seperate) reactions when he learns why his S/O pick on their fingers and wear gloves? P.s. you are an amazing writer and i love your work, keep up the good work! Hope you have a lovely day/night!

a/n so it's been awhile... how have you guys been? i've been okay, been dealing with post graduation fatigue and depression. been wondering what the hell am i doing with my world and wondering if things are really worth it. i miss bts, i miss jin and hobi and most of all yoongi. i miss the person i used to be. i miss the person that was my rock for a good few years. i wish this whole life thing wasn;t so hard, but! twst makes my brain go brrrr, so that's good i guess lolol. i'm working on stuff dw! and i'll try to post more, so thank you all so much to those who have been waiting! i love you all!!! <333

characters mentioned: overblot boys!

!tw! blood, would this be considered self harm? (an actual question btw)

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ He’s so concerned. Honestly, when he saw the state of your hands, he gasped like some Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

⋆ He’s not the type to beat around the bush, but he’s gentle about it. He’s quick to voice his concern for your health and if there’s any way for him to help you. 

⋆ Knowing that he is part of the cause of your pain, sorta sends him spiraling somewhat. It really makes Riddle want to become a better person after seeing the after effects of his tyranny.

⋆ Whenever Riddle sees you picking at your hands, he kinda swats at your hands like an angry cat. A disappointed pout on his soft features. He really tries okay. 

⋆ Riddle will patch your hand up. He’s so gentle about it too. Holding your hands as if they were blessed by the Queen of Hearts (honestly there’s probably a rule about it)

⋆ He’s taken to holding your hand when you're together. He stutters out a quick ‘I-it’s to help you!’ before dragging you away to study. When you're alone, Riddle has the habit of kissing your hands, mumbling sweet words. 

⋆ Overall, Riddle is concerned but willing to do anything to help you.

“If you ever find the urge to harm yourself, no matter how small, I ask you to seek me out. I will always spare you a moment. Afterall, I care about you, please don’t forget that.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ He noticed the state of your hands the moment he met you, but didn’t mention it until you grew closer. Like Riddle, he doesn’t beat around the bush. But unlike Riddle, Leona is so incredibly blunt.

⋆ After you tell him it’s a habit you’ve picked up after certain events, Leona drops the subject. The both of you are too awkward to keep it going. Afterall, you both knew what events could have led you here. Guilt was quick to snag Leona’s heart.

⋆ He’s not upfront about his emotions. Leona’s quite bad with vocalizing his worries, but he’s always been a firm believer in actions over words anyways.

⋆ Expensive gloves, creams and ointments from his land, heck even fidget toys he’s seen Cheka play with, shows up at your door. Anything he believes that could help you, he’s getting.

⋆ If you’re together and your hands get particularly bad, he’s dragging you to the infirmary to patch you up (he ends up snagging/buying bandages to keep on him just in case after) He doesn’t really talk much, but the sentiment is there.

⋆ Like Riddle, Leona will hold your hands to stop you from picking at your skin. His grip is tight, but not in a way that seems like he’s scolding you or mad, but tight in a way that's comforting. As if saying ‘I’m here.’

‘Oi, stop that… Yeah, I’m aware, but I’m here now. Let’s find other ways to deal with your stress, yeah? (whispering) I think I’ve got a few ideas, if you’re up to it, herbivore~’

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ He beats around the bush. Azul is weirddddd about it.

⋆ On one hand, he’s worried about you. On the other hand, his capitalist side wants to find some way to profit off it. Somehow he manages to quell both sides. (he ends up making hand cream/ointment using like floyd’s mucus thing, rip floyd)

⋆ Azul, despite his incessant need to bottle up his emotions for others, finds it hard to ignore the state of your hands, and likewise state of your health, any longer. He doesn’t know how to approach the topic. Does he ask right away? Should he ease you into it? He, for the first time since his overblot, is lost for words.

⋆ He does eventually get the guts to ask and oh boy, he never knew guilt felt this bad.

⋆ Azul kinda sucks at helping you, he won’t hold your hand (only in private) and he’s kinda frivolous with money (so no expensive gifts) but he’s good with his words. And when he sees you starting to pick at your hands, he immediately starts running his mouth. And he can talk for hours. And he’s entertaining too. Leaving you so enraptured by his words that you forget about the need to pick at your skin.

⋆ He’s always good at always keeping you busy. And no this isn’t some way to get free labor out of you. Typically you help him with paper work, just you and him in his little office.

⋆ Azul may always be boasting about how kind he is outloud, but you both know his true kindness is always quiet.

‘Ah, that’s enough paperwork for today. How about we go to the lounge for a few drinks? There’s plenty more I wish to share with you about the stock market.’

Jamil Viper <3

⋆ He doesn’t notice until you’re hissing in pain from something spicy touching your tender skin (listen i know this does make sense, but trust me, it hurts) He’s confused and worried at first and confused and worried after.

⋆ Jamil scolds you for working without some sort of protection while he tenderly washes your hands.

⋆ I feel like Jamil also has some bad coping habits, so he’s quick to put two and two together. He doesn’t ask, but there is a noticeable shift in his behavior. Jamil is a lot more gentle, not in a demeaning way, but in an awkward ‘I want to help you, but idk how, just please appreciate my efforts’ sorta way.

⋆ Since he still has his duties as Vice Housewarden and Kalim’s aid, he’s pretty tight on time, but he tries his best to spare you a few minutes. And if he can’t, you’ll always find a lunch box sitting on your desk.

⋆ Jamil is always willing to bandage your hands if they get particularly bad. He’ll use healing ointment that smells like home and is as gentle as his voice.

⋆ And while he can’t give you extraordinary gifts or talk for hours on end, Jamil is always ready to lend you a hand to heal your own destruction like how you healed him.

‘Stop squirming so much, I’ll mess up your banadages. -sigh- You really have to start wearing some sort of gloves… Mh? What was that?… You like it when I bandage your hand? E-eh- ahem, well if you like it so much, I might as well start charging you. …Ahaha, I never said thuarmarks, did I?”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ He takes one look at your hand and instantly brings out a 12 step hand routine.

⋆ Listen, he doesn't care if you do it out of stress, he’s going to fix your hands while helping you find better ways to handle it.

⋆ He rubs like this gel liquid thing that tastes bad to prevent you from biting away the skin near your nail (it’s an actual thing don’t worry) He’s pulling all the stops to prevent you from injuring your hands even more than they already are.

⋆ Vil often walks the fine line of being really gentle or really strict about it. And it doesn’t stem from his perfection issues, he is just kinda bad at expressing his emotions in a way that is both productive and compassionate. He does care, you’ll just have to look for hidden meanings in his long lectures.

⋆ No doubt, Vil is getting both of you matching gloves with your signature colors as accents.

⋆ The whole 12 step hand routine actually does become routine for the both of you. Typically taking place at Pomefiore, you’ll both talk about your day. Vil sees this as a way to check off all three boxes.

⋆ He gets to do his nightly hand routine.

⋆ You're improving day by day from talking about your emotions with him.

⋆ And he gets to spend one on one time with you!

⋆ It's a win-win situation! And your hands have never been softer!

‘And Epel just had to prove his point, which ended up with him casting a Zip Tight Spell on him. Despite not even being able to move his mouth, I could tell there was so much anger running though his little body. Goodness, how ridicu-hm? Did my little spudling fall asleep? How rude~ -sigh- Sweet dreams, darling~’

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ It’s Ortho that brings up your problem. Worry evident in his voice as he showed pictures of your hands to his big brother.

⋆ Despite being gaming buddies, Idia really never paid attention to your outer appearance. Too preoccupied in his desire to beat you at every game you both play.

⋆ And poor Idia, guilt grabs him by his long ass hair and flings his lanky body across the room multiple times (not really, but in Idia’s head that what's happening)

⋆ Unlike all of the others mentioned, Idia’s way of help is rather unconventional. He’s not good at talking nor is he good at physical touch, but you know what he is good at? Yeah, making things.

⋆ After a long night, Idia shows up at Ramshackle holding a small box. What is in the box? Well your own personal health robocat! This cat is kinda like Ortho just to a lesser degree (think of the robocat seven made mc!)

⋆ Listen, he knows he’s severely lacking in multiple departments of this whole dating, heck even friend, thing, but he is trying! And RoboCat is the ultimate form of his love! It’s quite romantic really.

⋆ Is Grim happy about the new intruder? No! But your health is more important than his feelings!

⋆ Idia swears he died of pure happiness at your expression. His two favorite things together!? Eek! It’s too much!

‘A-and next time you find yourself in trouble, just c-call for Robocat and she’ll come flying!… A laser beam like Ortho? Good idea! I’ll make sure to add it in her name update!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ His heart aches to see the pain you put yourself through. If it was up to him, he’d simply whisk you away to a place where no stress could muddle your beautiful mind. If he could, he would kill stress itself.

⋆ But alas, he can’t kill something that doesn’t have a physical form, how sad~ (lilia had to convince him not to go after Crowley)

⋆ Malleus is doing everything he can to help you. Just name it and he’s doing it.

⋆ Multiple gloves made of the finest materials? Got it!

⋆ Healing ointment from the farthest land made from an extinct organism? Done!

⋆ The heads of your enemies? Why didn’t you say so sooner!

⋆ He’s so silly ahahaha.

⋆ But seriously, Malleus sorta never feels stressed (he does, just thinks stress is a human emotion that only humans can feel) but he’s always willing to listen to you. Afterall, you’re always willing to lend your ears to him, it’s the bare minimum.

⋆ Advice? It’s so-so, sometimes he comes off vague but that really just because of his faeness. But he tries and is actively trying to be better, trying to be more intune with your emotions and his. (lilia has been great help, and surprisingly enough, watching silver and sebek on a more friendly level has also helped him be more in tune with emotions)

⋆ You shouldn't have to suffer in silence and he’ll make sure you never will for as long as the universe will let him.

‘You’ve been such a good companion, my dearest child of man, so please let me return the favor. Allow me to see the deepest parts of your soul, of your mind and heart. If you fear that I will cast judgment, do not. I could never judge the soul that has welcomed me with an open heart.’

[physalian]

10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of

Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”

I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.

1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”

This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.

And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?

2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion

You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.

Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.

3. A leader and their lancer: besties

You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.

They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.

4. “I don’t even know who you are”

Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.

An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.

6. The jaded badass and their naive ward

If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.

The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.

6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)

Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.

Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.

7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection

Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.

This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.

8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships

These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.

They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.

10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut

These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.

They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.

10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic

This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.

Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.

Now tell me which ones I missed!

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃ Seventeen and Playfully Flirting with Them ❃

A/N: So sorry this took me so embarrassingly long!! I have been so incredibly busy with uni that there was little time to write anything, but essays. Hopefully, I will have a bit more time on my hands to occasionally post a reaction now and then. Thank you for your patience, hopefully, the wait was still worth it :')

Scoups/Seunghceol

❀ The members had dared you to act flirty with him during their dance practice, and who are you to deny a bored Jeonghan and Joshua the fun of a struggling to keep composed Coups? He is trying his hardest to remain serious, attempting to scold some of the members who have started to goof off during their tiny break but is having a rather difficult time doing so as you push his hair back, whispering that he had looked so incredibly handsome during his part.

❀ Honestly, his mind kind of blanks, and he is all soft and puddy in your hands. Wait, what was he doing? He gets so incredibly shy as you keep doting on him, complimenting his dancing skills whilst playing with his hair. He gets ever shyer when he remembers that the members are watching you two. He will be all like, “Noooo, stopppp”, but he is lowkey loving it.

❀ The moment he realises you are being flirty solely because the members dared you to, he will get so incredibly pouty. How dare you use his love for your compliments against him? How is he to ever trust your compliments again? He demands a lot of cuddles and even more compliments in return.

Jeonghan

❀ I can see him as someone who is rarely phased by playful teasing and instead really enjoys it, treating it almost like a game. He takes it as a challenge, trying to one-up every flirt you throw his way. Oh, you told him his eyes are beautiful? Well, guess what? Your eyes reflect all the stars in the universe. If you lightly touch his arm, his fingers will start to linger around your waist.

❀ Mind you, that is only when this man is flirting innocently. Most of the time, his flirting is on a whole different level and slightly inappropriate. Honestly, he has you flustered within seconds because his compliments are so out of pocket you feel like you need a dose of holy water to cleanse yourself from it. He has no shame either; he will do it in front of other people without blushing.

❀ At some point, he starts initiating it on his own. You will be talking to some of the other members when he enters the conversation, with his compliment being so cheeky it has you hitting his chest in embarrassment. Needless to say, afterwards, some of the members feel like they need therapy.

Joshua

❀ This man is a king of accidentally flirty gestures to everyone he encounters. You have had enough; you feel like you should charge him for endangering your health by making your heart skip so many beats. Most of the time, he is fully unaware that he has done something romantic. After seeing your tomato-red face, he slowly comes to the realisation that his actions made your heart soar.

❀ Thus, you have decided to flirt back. Full-force. No mercy. You lay it on so incredibly thick that a part of your brain is constantly cringing. You beat him to opening the door for you, rushing forward to open it for him instead. Not a moment passes where you are not gushing over his handsome looks. Heck, you even got him flowers.

❀ He is all smiley during your love attack, loving every single minute of it. He thinks you are slightly ridiculous, albeit incredibly adorable. The reason he is flustered isn’t even the gestures; it is your determination to continuously sweep him off his feet that has him blushing. He finds it hilarious when he accidentally does something romantic before you can, and you get frustrated with yourself for not beating him to it.

Jun

❀ Jun.exe has stopped working. Try rebooting him. If altF4 does not work, return to the manufacturer. He is not used to you being flirty and touching him more than usual. It isn’t that he minds it, but Jun doesn’t know what to do and instead freezes in place, staring at you in shock. Did you just really pinch his cheeks, calling him adorable? Jun feels like he is experiencing some type of fever dream. Upon you throwing your head back at the worst joke he has ever made, he gets seriously worried about your sanity.

❀ He is so incredibly close to getting you admitted to a hospital; he is convinced you might have hit your head too harshly when he wasn’t looking. When you assure him that you did not, in fact, hit your head, he whips his head around, trying to find the hidden camera that surely is the reason behind your weird behaviour.

❀ It takes some convincing that you are just being playfully flirty and that there is no prank being played on him. Once assured, he will let it happen, albeit shyly. Man’s still confused and can’t help but continuously blush, but who is he to spoil your fun?

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ It can go two ways with him. Hoshi will either get incredibly soft and shy or take it as a challenge. The moment you get his attention by poking his cheek and telling him he is adorable, he will scrunch up his lil face in the brightest shyest smile ever, blushing like a madman. He will try to throw himself at the nearest object or person, hiding his face away from you.

❀ However, if he is comfortable with your flirting, it is honestly over for everyone around you two. It doesn’t matter whether it is a public space or whether you are in the middle of a serious conversation. Hoshi is always ready to grab your cheeks, turning your playful flirting into a disgusting “no, you are cute” battle.

❀ Everyone around the two of you wants to clean their eyes out with bleach because once you two get started, there is no ending to it. You two can go on for hours, telling the other why exactly you find them so amazing. Nobody will be left by the time you’re done hyping each other up and professing your undying love for one another. They have all fled. 

Wonwoo

❀ Wonwoo is all smiles and blushing. Nothing more, nothing less. You had discovered his adorable way of reacting to your playful flirting after you two had gone to karaoke, and you had continued to sincerely compliment his singing, calling his voice the hottest thing to have ever existed. He suddenly got very aware of his body in space and froze in place before giving you the tiniest, shyest smile ever, his face slightly red.

❀ He loves it when you take his face in your palms, gushing over how his glasses frame his face so well. However, he doesn’t quite know what to do with it, freezing up at all the attention and love he is receiving. Out of all the members, he gets the shyest about it, muttering a small “you too” whenever you throw a flirty compliment his way.

❀ He will 10000% accidentally drop whatever he is holding the moment the compliment reaches his ears or when you happen to kiss his cheek. His face is red, and he can’t seem to stop smiling to himself for the rest of the day. He is incredibly torn between feeling embarrassed and wanting to hear you say it again.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ He immediately knows that you are trying to tease him, and he is having absolutely none of it. In your defence, your boyfriend had insisted on finishing up a song before getting dinner with you and had been at it for the past thirty minutes. Thus, you decided to turn your boredom into frustrating your boyfriend by plopping down in his lap, flirtingly complimenting every change he made to the song. Damn, the way he played that chord? So sexy.

❀ The only indication that he is affected by it is the increasingly reddening of his face and the occasionally wrong-pressed button. He tries to crank up the volume of his speakers the longer you go on, but it is no use. You simply lean in, getting closer to his ear.

❀ He will either give up and leave with a heavy sigh because he can’t concentrate anymore, or he will ‘accidentally’ lock you in the recording room and ‘forget’ about it, opening it when he finally finishes the song. He doesn't even apologize for it; you called it on yourself. You are lucky that you inspire most of his songs, as he otherwise would save himself future trouble and ban you from the studio.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Initially, he thinks you are joking and will joke with you, pretending that he, too, thinks he is the most handsome person on the planet. However, the moment he realizes that you are serious about finding him show-stopping handsome, he starts to malfunction. DK is not quiet often, but your compliments never fail to make him tongue-tied.

❀ Thus, as some of the members are over at your place and DK is his usual loud self, you decide to set up a small competition about who can make him shut up the fastest. Naturally, they fail miserably and expect you to do the same. Whatever the members had been expecting you to do, kissing him on the cheek and telling him that he is the best thing to ever happen to you, was not it. Still, it works like a charm; DK’s eyes widen as he touches the spot where you kissed him in wonder, completely awe-struck by your laugh at his adorable reaction.

❀ After discovering it was a competition, he will pull on your sleeve to quietly ask whether you had meant what you said. When you tell him yes, congrats, you have successfully put him on cloud nine. It kind of backfires on you all, though. DK is so incredibly happy that he gets twice as loud.

Mingyu

❀ Where DK gets quieter upon hearing a compliment, this man gets progressively louder. He is whining and squealing at your flirtatiousness. His body spasms and knocks something (or someone) over. His legs give out, making him fall to the ground as he is clutching his racing heart. He gets so giggly about it, too, asking you to tell him he is handsome again and again. The way he reacts has you momentarily wonder whether he has never heard a single compliment in his life; when you compliment the way his shirt shows off his chest, he gets all bashful, covering up his chest with his arms.

❀ He lives for this and keeps asking you to compliment him more and more. It makes you slightly shy as he is hanging off every word that leaves your lips, zeroing all his attention in on you. The moment you do as much as slightly graze his arm, he scoops you up in his, wrapping his arms around your waist. The world could be ending around him, and it wouldn’t matter as Mingyu feels like he has already gone to heaven hearing you tell him that he is your entire universe.

❀ He would shamelessly try to get you to flirt with him and compliment him more, wearing his tightest shirt and casually stretching in front of you. The moment you hold any jar that needs opening, he appears right next to you, flexing his arms unnecessarily as he dramatically opens it. He doesn’t even care that the members tease him to no end about it, as one compliment and touch from you is worth ten years of endless teasing.

❀ Let’s just say it never ends innocently, either.

The8/Minghao

❀ He gets so soft when you run your fingers through his newly cut hair, telling him that you didn’t think he could become even more handsome, yet here you are. All he can get out is a “thank you” gazing at you like you hung the moon. He basks in the feeling of you playing with his hair, his smile only growing broader as you continue to compliment him. Minghao knows that he is fashionable, but nothing beats you telling him, whether playfully or seriously.

❀ When you get very playful with it, kissing every inch of his face whilst calling him the prettiest piece of art, he will get so red, giggling as he tries to get you to stop. In the end, he will hug you close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Not only will it prevent you from kissing his face continuously, but it will also refrain you from seeing how much he is blushing and adoring your actions. 

❀ Once he feels like he has received enough compliments, he will turn the tables. He will softly tug you by the hand, getting you to sit across from him on the couch. Taking your face in his hands, he will return your compliments in full force. Minghao will be so sincere about it, too, regardless of whether you had only been playfully teasing him, poetically describing how you make his life more complete. He will take his time, savouring the way you blush at each word that leaves his lips.

Seungkwan

❀ Listen up, BOO SEUNGKWAN DESERVES MORE COMPLIMENTS. We should give him more compliments as he deserves ALL the compliments because he is THE Boo Seungkwan. After hearing him complain once more that he needs to go on a diet in order to, in his opinion, look his best in the music video, you decide to wage war on his critical inner voice. So often, you have heard Seungkwan bring his own looks down, and you finally decide to do something about it.

❀ When you first barge into your shared living room, your expression full of determination, he initially thinks you are about to scold him. When, instead, you start to relentlessly flirt with him, calling him handsome and reminding him of all his best qualities, you catch him completely off guard. It takes a while for your compliments to reach him, after which he gets so painfully shy that he physically tries to leave your presence, running away to whatever corner of the room you are not in. One compliment would have already been enough to make Seungkwan bashful. But upon hearing the tenth compliment leave your mouth, he wishes to turn permanently invisible.

❀ He ends up locking himself in the bathroom, screaming at you to stop flirting with him as he can’t take it anymore. He is one of those people who would rather have someone lovingly call them stupid than receive a genuine, heartfelt compliment. He only chooses to leave the bathroom after you promise to stop, not daring to meet your eyes, fearing it might trigger another wave of compliments.

Vernon

❀ Out of all the members, he is the most unphased and unimpressed by normal, playful flirting. Listen, this dude hears at least seven times a day that he has godly looks and resembles a young, handsome Leonardo di Caprio. Touching him, at most, will get you a questioning glance from him. Similarly to Jun, he would be concerned about your well-being, asking you whether everything is okay and if you need to talk about it.

❀ However, what he would love is stupid flirting. Let me explain what I, a fellow stupid flirter, mean. You would point at a fridge and tell him he is just as cool or compliment his ears for being perfectly round. Cue his wonderful chair-squeaking-over-floor laugh. The two of you live for coming up with the weirdest ways to flirt/compliment one another. To anyone else, some of your so-called flirtatious remarks come off more as insults than compliments. Who in their right mind would feel moved by being told that if they were a trashcan, you would only use them for paper?

❀ All in all, playful flirting with Vernon is equivalent to speaking his alien meme language. It is all about having fun for him, making the person he adores laugh and laughing at whatever they tell him in return. Vernon knows he is hot; instead he wants to know whether he is hotter than that beautifully shaped rock you found the other day.

Dino/Chan

❀ He. Is. So. Shy. It gets worse if his members are around. You adore it when he gets bashful when you kiss him, smiling at you all dreamily before dropping his eyes, too embarrassed to meet yours. Usually, he recovers after a few minutes, whining that you gave him a heart attack and should make up for it by kissing him again, to which you all too happily oblige. Dino still freezes when he feels your fingers intertwine with his or go through his hair, afraid that a single movement might scare you off.

❀ Sometimes, he seems to slowly get used to it. On one occasion, he had returned so incredibly late from his dance practice that you decided to make up for lost time, latching yourself onto your sweaty boyfriend. To try and convince him to let you keep hugging him, you kept kissing him, telling him how much you had missed him. He mirthfully laughed at your adorable behaviour, kissing the top of your head, promising not to let go.

❀ Yet, today, you think you have officially broken your boyfriend. All you had done was take his face in your hands out of the blue, kissing him deeply before telling him in full detail how beautiful he is to you and how much you adore him. It, however, is enough for his brain to shortcut. All he gets out is a stupid “Thanks, you too.”

Masterlist

[yueliie]

🎐.お茶 — snowflake kiss ft endo yamato

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ﹗being late for your date on a cold night was not in your to do list so how did your boyfriend manage to leave you all hot and bothered in a matter of seconds?

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍜 ˓ 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀 ﹗fluff, gn!reader

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍡 ˓ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀 ﹗i headcanon endo as that one boyfriend who is an obsessive teaser and i never seen real snow before so here you go...I promise you that I did not know where this was going but it's worth a shot.

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍛 ˓ 𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ﹗ @maruflix , @kaq3yma , @megutime , @mariaace , @genshiningg , @nian-7 & @meidiary if you want to be tag for a specific character, let me know!

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍘 ˓ 𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙆 ﹗m.list

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍥˓ 𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂... ﹗snowflake kiss ft endo yamato...

The sky is clear, a beautiful deep blue with puffy white clouds still lingers, and the crisp breeze is flowing throughout the covered porch of the street. The trees covered with snow for as far as the eyes can see, and the ground covered with inches of white, fluffy snow.

In the midst of all that winter wonderland, were you clumsily trying not to fall on your face, pushing against the crowd of people as you were in a hurry for something?

"Yamatoooo!!" You were panting heavily, waving your hand while being cautious of your steps; the tip of your nose flushed red. "I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting." 

Endo was standing under the roof of a nearby store, presumably waiting for you, but the problem is that it's been a few hours from the meeting time that you both agreed on... stupid traffic jam.

"Ah, there you are." He waves at you as you stop in front of him, breathing out some white little clouds before you.

"Why didn't you get inside?! Oh my gosh, you must be freezing right now!" 

"I didn't want to miss you, babe, so I was waiting outside."

"Yamato..." You looked at him with your lips pouting, but for Endo, he had this big grin spread across his face with half-lidded eyes.

"But I'll let you make it up to me by warming me up." He was staring at your face as if expecting something.

"Huh?" You grabbed hold of his right hand and squeezed it tightly. It was cold enough to make your hand tingle; it was nearly frozen solid.

"What are you doing?" He asked, puzzled by your actions.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to warm you up like you said."

"That's not what I meant when I told you to warm me up."

"Eh?" 

Still holding your hand, he yanked you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzled his face up close, getting tangled up in your hair, then rubbed his cheek against yours and muttered, "Mm, it's warm."

"What the heck?! Yamato! Your cheeks are cold as ice, and it's scratches. Gahh!" You screamed, wiggling yourself free from his tight grip on you. Dear God, why did he have such strong arms?!?!

"You can't escape~" He smiled playfully, much to your dismay, as he pulled himself closer to you, clinging to you even more tightly. "Yamato, stop it, al—!!" 

You froze, looking up to the night sky. Did you just see a white dot just now?

"Oh..." 

As if it were cue, white, fluffy snowflakes flutter gently around the two of you as the powdering white snow begins to fall. Endo slowly looses his arms around you as he turns towards the dark skies, and at that moment to you, his eyes look gentle as he smiles, "...It's our very first snowfall experience together." 

"It's supposed to be extra chilly today, so there was a possibility of snowfall happening today." You paused for a second, slowly unwrapping the scarf around your neck and then wrapping it around his neck to keep him warm. "Aren't you cold? We should go home soon; I don't want you to catch a cold because of me." 

He then snapped his attention towards you suddenly as his gaze made eye contact with yours, which makes you feel a little flustered under his intense stare. "...what is it, Yamato?"

He tilted his head, his expression softening. "You've got some snow on you." 

"What?" You start patting your head. "Where? Is it on my cheek? Or is it on my hair?"

"You aren't even close." He chuckles, amused by your flustered face. Placing his finger on your lips, he slowly leans in, "Right here... I'll give you a kiss hot enough to melt the snow." 

"Huh-" You didn't get to react much before he presses his lips gently against yours as you froze up, taking you by surprise as he then wraps his arms around your waist, securing you inside with his left arm resting on your lower back and his right hand held the back of your head. "Mmm!?"

He pulls away abruptly, then gives you a soft peck on the lips. Endo stared at you, looking very smug by your flustered expression. "Well? Did you feel all warm up now?"

"I-I...wha...?" 

This man will be the death of you.

© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hey will you make hsc reader x tmnt 2012 (all of trurtles) in which the reader proposes sexual intercourse or starts to gently initiate, e.g. gently kissing on the neck, how the boys react, do they agree or prefer to wait (you don't have to describe the sex with them if you don't want to, what matters most to me is their reaction, and I would prefer the age to be kept the same as in the series)

Their Reaction To You Wanting Intimacy (18+)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: For the sake of my moral conscience, I will have to write that they are aged them up. What you decide to imagine is up to you, but I don’t feel safe writing stuff like this without aging them up. But with that being said, I hope you’ll still enjoy💚

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Implied sex, mentioning of being caught.

Leonardo:

With Leo, it really depends on the situation at hand. Are they two of you in the dojo, out in the living area, hanging out around friends and family, or doing something important, he would be very apprehensive. Panic in his eyes, unsure of what to do.

That did not mean he didn’t want to have fun with you, nono, it’s because he’s scared of breaking the rules. Fearful of getting caught, or maybe screwing up something that he had the responsibility for.

But did that mean that you didn’t try? Hell no! You would try to push him ever so slightly, seeing if you could get the fearless leader to do something he normally never would.

Not that it was hard for you to make him give in. You have managed to cause a heated make out between the two of you in the dojo, resulting in some dry humping on a mat, before the two of you had a long good night in Leo’s bedroom.

And oh, the joy of sending him risky texts when he would be out on patrol was amazing. His flustered reactions over the phone or text made it all worth it.

But, you and Leo were in the private comfort of either your or his room, Leo would give in to your touch with no fluster and no wide eyes. Heck, he would even start the intimate actions before you could.

If Leo were comfortable, he could easily get freaky. If he felt sure that no one would interrupt you, he would be absolutely okay with fooling around on the couch or somewhere far out in nature.

Pretty much anything would work on Leo - physical touch, certain words or that look that let him know what you were thinking. All of those things did something to him, and any of those could do the trick.

Raphael:

Be careful when you try to initiate intimacy with this guy, because he will not let anything slide. You want to have some fun? He’s ready! Doesn’t matter when or where, he will find a way or a place where the two of you can have your fun.

Raph is very good at picking up on your hints, when it comes to these sorts of things. That little look you would give him, or the way you would sway your hips ever so slightly when you walked past by him. He notices it each and every time, and he will be quick to follow you.

Your hot headed boyfriend isn’t too bothered about who is around. If it stood to him, he would not let you walk to the bedroom, he would be quick to pull you back against him and have you wherever you were, not giving a damn about who was around. And well, though it sounded hot, you both knew that none of his or your family members would be too happy about that, so you kept your activities away from their eyes.

But other than that, there wasn’t much that would hold Raph back. Kiss his neck and he will have you pinned against the wall so he can go on your neck. Touch his thigh and he will spread them wider for you, and it would usually lead into one giving the other head.

If you decided to do these kinds of things in the living area, with no one else in the room, there would be a big chance that you and Raph would get your stuff going in the living area. That was how the two of you ended up having sex in a back alley and on a few roof tops.

If you decide to tease this man, get ready, because he won’t let that go. Raph loved a good brat to break, and he loves when you decide to go into brat mood on him.

So yeah, if you want intimacy with Raph, he is quick to give it to you.

Donatello:

As smart as Donnie is, he tends to be a little bit thick when it comes to reading your signs, especially those of a more intimate and sexual nature. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want sex, because oh bot, does this man like sex. He’s just a little slow to register what it is that you are asking for. It’s especially bad if his working on something.

You could be hugging him from behind while he was hunched over one of his many projects, rubbing your hands up and down his chest, and he still wouldn’t realize what you were doing.

Kiss his neck in this situation, and he will still not realize how slow he is. He might just be thinking that you’re trying to be sweet - like you always are - showing him some innocent love while his working.

But when one of the hands on his chest starts moving lower and lower, getting closer and closer to his cloaca, Donnie seemed to realize what was going on, which usually would result in him turning towards you with a smug smile. He could most definitely help you out with your little wish.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Donnie then to have sex in the garage lab, while no one was around, to hear the many sounds the two of you would make.

But should it be during the day time, you and Donnie would most likely move it to the bedroom, or just somewhere more private. Donnie wasn’t too scared of people knowing that the two of you were having sex, nor that you intended to do so. But Donnie was not too happy about the thought of anybody walking in while he was cloaca deep in you. That would make him lose his mojo and make him feel very embarrassed.

Actually, at times he would even brag to his brothers about it, reminding them that he was the one that had sex on almost a daily basis.

Michelangelo:

Mikey is a funny case. His reactions would vary, depending on the time of day, his mood or whether or not he was expecting it.

If Mikey was in a hyper mood, really hooked on this one thing, he wouldn’t notice anything. Be as flirty as you want to, he wouldn’t notice or think about anything unless you straight up tell him you want him to fuck you stupid.

Should you find you and Mikey in such a situation, where you had just whispered to him, how badly you want him to fuck you into this bean bag, while his family was out the lair, he might turn to you in shock and confusion. Not because he didn’t want to do it, because he will. He was just in processing mode. Did his hyperfixation just turn you on? If that’s the case, he would show you this stuff more often.

Should Mikey be bored, and you suddenly start sliding your hands all over him, he would be on you in no time. No processing needed. He is ready right now!

The danger is ro send Mikey risky texts when he’s bored. Send him a nude and he will be outside your window less than five minutes later, so keep your clothes off.

Now, if you sit with Mikey in the living area, watching a movie and his brothers happen to be nearby, watch out when you start to make moves on your boyfriend. Because if you don’t tell him where you want the two of you to get busy, he would at times forget that there are people around, and get ready to get hands on right then and there. And well, it has happened that you forgot as well. That was kind of embarrassing to be caught on the couch with your boyfriend, tongues down each other's throats, hands already roaming. You never forgot that, but Mikey seemed to have totally let it go.

[chernobog13]

BEST. GODZILLA. FILM. EVER!!!!!!!

That's right, I said it.

Just got home from seeing this in the theatre, and I can't wait to go see it again. Heck, I'd've stayed to see a second showing, except they cleared the theatre.

I laughed. I almost cried. I was terrified. But most importantly, I was completely taken in by the entire story. The human drama was engaging, I cared about the characters, and none of it got in the way of the monster action - WHICH IS FREAKING AMAZING!

I can't recommend this one enough. See it. See it often. And see it in IMAX if you possibly can; it's well worth the extra money for the ticket.

I haven't started watching Monarch: Legacy of Monsters yet (I was planning to binge the series), Now I'm reluctant to, because after seeing Godzilla Minus One, M:LOM will only disappoint me.

Opens nationwide on Friday, December 1.