#howard is such an ugly name

[bent-penny]

I hc that it took Eddie weeks to learn everyone's names when he first moved in to the neighborhood. That's also why Sally never calls him by his name. I think she used to but stopped when he called her Sylvia, told him that wasn't right, said her real name and then he came back the next day and called her Scarlett.

Like he called Wally Will or William. He called Frank Fred and so on. I don't know who corrected him but I think it stopped when the day he called Howdy Howard.

[grugruel]

His Little Killer

Pairings: Cooper howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: in reluctant companionship with a ghoul, which turns out to be exactly as dreadful as you'd thought. You find yourself in a shoot-out where–post battle–one of your usual fights end way more pleasurable than usual.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: (violence, blood, death, in typical fallout manners), enemies to lovers, choking, pinv sex, rough sex, fingering, creampie, pet names (darlin', honey, killer, sweetheart), praise, a pinch of degradation.

AN: not yet proofread! Hope yall enjoy! (Yes, I'm unwell.'

Wood shattering, explosions booming–and charging footsteps heading straight for me. 'At my right!' I shout, gesturing in the direction of the steps. My voice barely registering above the racket of the fight.

Nonetheless, he heard me, I knew he did. Because bullets suddenly whizz past my makeshift cover in every direction except to my right.

The ammunition creating sick squelching noises as they collide with their targets, bloodsplatter spraying the walls a horrifying deep red. Meanwhile, in my corner. The heavy footsteps were left wide open to plough through the old wooden barrels I was hiding behind, 'Holy shii-' I squeak as im tackled to the floor with enough force to knock the breath out of my lungs. I try to cough, try to make my lungs open up as the man grabs hold of me. I hit my chest hard, desperately hoping it would do something–

He grabs my boots, pulling me toward him and finally- I get a breath of air. 'Stupid, fucking asshole.' I mutter through clenched teeth as I lunge and wrestle my attacker, our quarreling bodies kicking up a cloud of dust to swirl around us.

The man was big and foul-smelling, maybe it would've been better refered to as an it, considering the animalistic growls, snapping teeth, and fraying lips that bit and lunged at my face. He attempted to pin my arms to the ground while aiming its teeth at my jugular, but I was quicker. My knee smashing into his balls before he had a single thought of defending himself. He cried out in pain and I took my chance to roll him over, pinning him down with my weight instead, and I began throwing a wave of punches to his face, over and over again. 'I said MY right!' I shouted over my shoulder, weeks of fury and frustration bubbling up inside me as it fueled me into beating the ugly mut unrecognizable–when a second force slammed into my back, knocking me onto the ground once again. Another man, now climbing on top of me, his dirty fingers slithering around my throat and-

Another splatter, this time it's his blood–the second man's, and its sprayed all over me.

'Finally. . .' I exhale heavily, thudding back against the floor, splaying out with relief.

'Were really polishin' up on our teamwork.' A gruff voice announced, words coming out slow and steady with that self-satisfied tone which never failed to get on my nerves.

I heaved myself up on my forearms, angling my body so what remained of the man slumped off of me, and the source of the voice appeared like a specter from the dead man's shadow. 'You're a real pretty sight when ridin' a man like that.' He said, nodding to the guy with a bashed face.

I rolled my eyes, unbelievable. 'You mean while beating the shit out of him?' I ask, my voice pitching higher as I couldnt quite fathom the nerve of that man, despite forcing myself to get used to it over the past few weeks.

He hummed. 'Mhm, really got me goin' for a sec.'

My face scrunched up in disgust. 'Fucking cowboys.' I spat, renouncing the idea loudly. But, quietly, inside my mind, the thought had my core purring unwillingly.

'I shot right, just like you asked.' He shrugged, stalking closer, the drawl in his voice washing through the barren and now battered bar.

'The hell you did!' I hissed. He stopped at my feet, looming over me with his tall frame, frayed coat swaying around his chins, and that stupid cowboy hat covering half his face just like always. We'd been forced travelling companions for a while now, and I could say a lot of nasty things about him, but it was hard to deny- he was a real fucking apocalypse cowboy. Pretty cool if you cut his personality out of the picture.

'I said my right, what the fuck else do you think I ment with "my"?' I kick the lifeless body with my boot, emphasising my point.

'Well. . .' He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. '. . .my, right.' He smirked.

I shook my head, shooting him daggers. 'Not even you are moronic enough to get that wrong, ghoul.'

'Well, you're right.' He admitted, shocking me for a second. But then, the problem I've always had with him, inescapable and always the same–he never shut his damn mouth. 'You need to work om your phrasin', honey.'

I shut my eyes, screwing them together so tight I began wishing I could disintegrate from annoyance and seep through the cracks between the weathered floorboards like a corn of sand. But no, I was stuck with him, and had to lay there listening to his idiocy. 'How–?' I sighed a heavy, exasperated sigh. '–is it possible for a man to be so full of himself, yet- never talk about himself?'

'Tricks of the trade, sweetheart.' He winked, clicking his tongue while those forsaken eyes roamed my body like a predator sizing up it's prey, and extended a hand toward me as if it were no big deal.

Exhausted as I was, accepting his help seemed sorely tempting to my tired body. After a moments hesitation, I decided–once, wouldn't harm my morals. So, I grabbed his hand with reluctance and let him pull me to my feet. 'I could've died, I hope you realise.'

'Yes. . . But you didn't.' His lips pulling into a grin. 'I wouldn't let that happen'.'

'You're a real bastard, y'know that?' the words left my lips with an unintentional drawl, damn that man.

The ghoul cocked an inexistent eyebrow. 'If I didnt know any better, I'd say im rubbin' of on you, honey.'

Another scoff from me. 'The only thing you're rubbing–is me the wrong way.' I spat, this time making a point of speaking as plainly as possible.

His eyes lit up suspiciously, filling with mischief as his widening smile creased them. 'Well, tell me how you like it then and I'll do it the right way.' He smirked, his voice gravely as it scraped along my spine with a shiver. He always did this, He'd call me nicknames, flirt with me. All cause he knew I hated it. But now he's just bordering on harassment. It did however, not, stop the heat from rising to my cheeks, or for a blush to seep through my skin. He'd staggered me, I truly didn't know how to react. What happened next was purely instinctively driven–

The palm of my hand made contact with his cheek, a crisp slap sounding out through the room. I even confused myself for a moment, almost as I was the one who'd been hit. But I would've been furious, how he reacted, well. . .

'There you are. . .' He purred, his tone lethal. '. . .my little killer.' A grin spreading across his face as he took a step closer.

He was pure poison, somehow both hot and cold as he ran through my veins. 'I ain't yours.' He wss the only person- ghoul, who could get on every nerve I possessed, lighting it ablaze with frustration.

'No. . .? You ain't?' He chuckled, 'You're sure startin' to sound like it, sweetheart. I see the way you look at me, the way you blush when I call you pretty little names.' He nodded toward my eyes, his hat tipping with the movement as he took another step, gaining on the precious distance between us. I feared he was right, too, my cheeks burned in a way I'd never noticed before. Had I always reacted like this? Before I knew it–I'd flung my palm for his face a once again-

Only this time, he caught my wrist. 'Tsk tsk tsk, you can do better than that, killer.' He let go off me, forcefully shoving my arm back to my side with a scoff.

But now, I'm the one stepping closer, pushing him away by the chest simultaneously. 'I hate you.' I spit, taking another step and push again, but this time he doesn't budge, and I was left standing mere inches away from him, my hands pressed firmly against his chest as my own heaved with frustrated breaths, strands of hair hanging over my face from the ordeal.

'Good. . .' He whispered, brushing wild strands of hair from my face. '. . .Now, show me how much you hate me.'

I could've slapped him again, pushed him again, done anything else than what I actually did. But my body acted on instinct, again-

I crashed into him, my hands grabbing his face as our lips met in a battle for control. He released a breathy moan, his trigger ready hands finding my waist impossibly quick to pull me flush against him, our bodies clashing together in a thud. He hummed. 'That's right, killer. Show me.' He whispered in the air-swallowing gasps between our kisses.

I put pressure behind my hands, walking him backward while my fingers found the buttons of his vest. Undoing them along with the shirt, then slid his coat and vest down his shoulders in one go, right before his back collided with the bar top. My hands found themselves making their beneath his shirt, feeling the dents of his scarred chest as I sucked his lip between my teeth, and bit down. A sharp hiss escaped him, quickly being replaced by a wide grin. 'Naughty girl.' He breathed.

Smiling, I pushed myself off of him. 'You bring it out of me.' I panted, pulling my shirt over my head and unhooking my bra, letting it fall to the floor.

He leaned back against the bar, bracing himself on his elbows as his eyes roamed over my bare chest and flushed face. 'Those are the prettiest fuckin' tit's I've ever seen. . .' He spoke in a low voice, too filled with lust to allow him anything else. 'Now, would you mind.' His hand gestured below my waist, his index finger sliding through the air as he traced the buttons of my pants from a distance.

And an idea struck me, suddenly feeling like I wanted to indulge myself in a little torture. Turning around, I did as he told me and began unbuttoning them, slowly. Terribly, terribly slowly. Sliding them over my hips and down my thighs, bucking my knees and bending over slightly as I pulled my panties down along with them. Just as I stepped out if them and looked over my shoulder to give him a coy little look, perhaps revel in the feeling of his pained expression–I was in for a surprise.

Turning my head over my shoulder, I came fave to face with him, but he wasn't just standing there- no. He collided with my back, his arms already wrapped around ny front to catch me. His shirt bow nowhere to be seen. 'Enough.' He growled, one strong arm wrapping around my breasts as the other wrapped around my waist. He raised me off the floor, held tightly against his chest. I squeeked, giggling as I pulled my legs up. Completley overcome with the anticipation of what was about to befall me–then I all of a sudden found myself pushed over the bar top, chest against the smooth luke warm surface. The quality off it telling me it hadn't been bought when fitted into this weathered building.

Then, the clanging of metal, leather groaning, friction, and his belt hit the floor. Gruff hands ran over the swell of my ass and down the arch of my back, taking his time to feel all of me. 'Been thinkin' 'bout this, how you'd feel falling apart beneath me, on top of me–' he leaned over me, hand wrapping around my neck as he pulled me flush against him only to whisper in my ear. '–around me. . .' He breathed, dragging the words out. '. . . All wet 'n messy with my cum fillin' you up.'

A moan left my lips. 'Show me.' Was all I could get out, a silent pleading to make all those thoughts a reality–and so he did.

Before I knew it, a hand had disappeared to line himself up with my entrance, pushing inside me without as much as a warning.

'Fuck!' I cried out, my voice breaking as my breath left me. It felt never ending, he was huge. But oh, he felt so good.

He groaned, finally stopping as he'd sunken all the way into my core. 'So wet for me already.' His hand slid over my back and shoulder, molding itself to my throat as the other grabbed my hip. Already flush with my back, he inclined his head, leaving trail of kisses along my spine and neck.

'Fuck me, please Coop-' it was the first time I'd called him by his name, and I realised it the second it left my lips.

His lips curled against my skin, a smile-

He thrusted into me, again and again. My back arching into an angled I had no idea it was capable of, helping him hit my core at every rut of his hips–not that he needed it. The 200+ years of experience really showed, and they were definitely felt.

The bar was dead silent, no noise except for our joint breaths of pleasure and the sound of slapping skin. It was lewd and brutal, and It made me absolutely delerious. His low, pained grunting in my ear did nothing to ease the matter. He'd created an aching so strong within me I wasn't sure It'd ever be able to be tamed.

'Harder, harder, please.' I stuttered, the words barely coming out between my heavy pants. Fuck, he made me feral. Without even trying, that's just what he was capable of. It annoyed me, he managed to annoy me while fucking me senseless. Oh, how I wish I could hate him, but there was no going back now.

Coop left little love bites all along my shoulder, and up the side of my throat, nipping and kissing in equal meassure as his breathing warmed my skin deliciously. Doing it all with such precision I couldnt understand, his thrust were rocking my emtire body, his chest rubbing againdt my back, yet he could be so delicate. I side ive never seen before. 'Little killer ain't so tough no more, is she?' He whispered, placing a kiss behind my ear before biting the lobe, tugging in it gently.

'. . . Mmh- 'm not, I'm not.' I got out. I was whatever he said I was while he delivered this type of pleasure on a silver platter. I didn't care, my morals had been thrown out the window the second his lips touched mine.

'Well, look at that. Admittin' defeat already?' I could feel his stupid grin again, his pace slowing- still ruthless, but it did enough for that feeling of building pressure to wain inside me.

I shook my head, shutting my eyes hard as I tried to focus on his member moving inside me, desperate not to lose that red string that'd lead me to climax.

'Words, sweetheart. Use em'. .'

'Dont fucking care.' I cried. 'J- just- Fuck. Me. Harder.' I ground out, my teeth clenching real hard from a mix of desperation and frustration for the pressure to start rebuilding.

'That'll do.' He groaned, squeezing my throat. All the while his other hand slid down to my cunt, starting condensed circling around my clit. And just like that, he'd made me into a whimpering mess for him to steady, falling apart beneath him just like he'd thought. Then he simply took up right where he left off, without missing a beat he thrusted so ferociously I was sure I'd be bruising on every single part of my body from the vibrations that rumbled through my muscles alone.

The darkness of my lips were specking with white, a wall of pressure building brick by brick in my abdomen. 'Close, so fucking close.' I whimpered.

'Good- Good job sweetheart. Doin' so good for me.' He burried his face in my hair, nuzzling his nose into its scent, inhaling it as he too approached climax. And there it was, that sudden softness. It was almost unsteadying my senses more than his touch, more than his thrusts, but only almost. 'You sound so sweet for me, honey. Let me hear ya'. . .' He moaned, exhaling warmth against the nape of my neck.

I obliged, of course I did. 'Feels so good, Coop- so close. . .' I panted, tears burning my eyes as they began rolling down my cheeks.

He slid his hand upward, keeping it between me jaw and throat, still choking me as he angled my face over my shoulder, enabling him to kiss me properly. And I've never been more thankful because I was about to cry myself dry as the wall broke. Pleasure flooding through my body in tidal waves, my knees bucking beneath me. 'Good girl.' He praised, voice muffled against my lips. Fingers stopping to instead cup my aching cunt. 'My good fuckin' girl, my little killer.' He moaned softly, my lips vibrating from the roughness in his voice as he caught me, delivering a final few ruts of his hips before he too came. Doing just as he promised, filling me up with his cum.

He loosed his grip around my throat and slit, letting me depend on the counter for support while he held me. 'Still hate me?'

'Yes.' I didn't, but it'd be a long time before I admitted that to him.

'Good.' And then there was silence, our lungs catching up with our breaths. 'Still wanna see those pretty hips ride me.' He murmured as he hugged me from behind, his hand sliding lower, pinching my hipbone.

'Ow! Asshole.' I yelped, and he kissed my shoulder to make up for it. But the thought was alluring nonetheless. I wriggled in his embrace, looking around at the destruction we'd caused, at the- dead bodies. And a pang of guilt hit me. 'Fine, but not here.' I agreed, actually wanting nothing more than to get out of there and sit in his lap, maybe ride his thighs too.

We redress, and share a kiss before leaving. 'Can't wait to taste that cunt of yours, killer.' He murmured suddenly. Leaving me staggered once again.

Ugh, I'm done for.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper Howard has a breeding kink because he loves being a dad. He and Barb married and started trying for kids later in life than most folks around them, so much of the sex they had, especially early on, was focused on getting Barb pregnant. If he'd had his way, they would have had a whole litter of children, but hey, sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want. Still, there's the fun of trying, and there was a lot of trying. After the divorce, he's shocked when he meets someone else, and even more shocked when he feels those same urges with you. He's been trained to try and knock one in basically every time, he jokes.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

He's also incredibly possessive, and it drives him wild to think about getting to see you all swollen and filled out with his child. Particularly with you being younger that him; the ugly part of his brain is barking at him to stake a more permanent claim on you every time a guy your age so much as looks your way. Personally, he thinks he's too old to have more kids, but between his secret urges, your forgetfulness when it comes to your pill, and your twin high sex drives, well...sometimes accidents happen.

He'd be over the moon, once he knew you were happy as well (he would also worry about the news potentially being hurtful to Barb, but that'd be an issue for tomorrow). Showing you off in public, knowing that other people see how gorgeous you are and know you fully belong to him, it really gets him going, and you certainly take notice of how amorous he is when you're out together (combined with how vigorously he fucks you when you get home). Thinks you're insanely sexy pregnant and likes to watch you ride him with a big belly. You'd both better be a lot more careful about your contraception after the first baby if you don't want another, because getting to see you that way only makes his kink worse.

The Ghoul has a breeding kink because he's incredibly possessive. It's been literal centuries since he's come across anything in this world that he cares for enough to want to claim it, and you're officially claimed. He wants everyone, including you, to know that you belong to him and only him. Other ghouls can smell him on you much more strongly if he cums inside you, and he enjoys the way filling you full scratches his most primal itch. It's just an added benefit that he's almost positive he can't actually get you pregnant, but...there are records of ghouls reproducing with other ghouls. Haven't stranger things happened?

The little thrill he gets at the idea is just nature trying to take over.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

You'd be hard-up to get him to admit it, but he wants you to need him. He wants an excuse to baby you and pamper you and force you to let him do things for you without the vulnerability of admitting that he wants to do those things for you anyway because he's deeply in love with you.

You complain that your feet hurt during your journey for the day? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go from now until the end of time, if that's what you want. Stomach and appetite troubles? Name whatever you want, he'll find it for you, no matter how many caps he has to pay. Tired? "Of course you're tired, sweetheart. Let's stop for today. Here, sit down. Do you need some water? Eat this, you need some calories. Let me rub your legs and feet for you." It is endless and sort of surreal for you to adjust to.

Speaking of journeys, I think he also secretly wants to settle down a bit. He does already after he meets and falls for you, seeing how much the constant trekking back and forth across the irradiated desert takes out of you, and he definitely would want to do so expeditiously if you were pregnant. It's not like secure places don't exist in this world. He can keep you, and anyone else who may come along, safe just fine.

He'd be afraid to fuck you if you were pregnant, worried that he'll hurt you or make you sick or make something bad happen with the pregnancy. But if you reassure him, maybe beg a little, he'll do his best to make sure your urges are satisfied. Sit on his face and let him slide his tongue through your insanely sensitive folds, lie back and let him fuck you with those agile fingers while he jerks himself off. You'll miss being properly penetrated, badly, but you won't go without.

He wants an excuse to be even more protective of you than usual. Give him a reason to literally pluck men's eyes out for daring to so much as look at you, a reason to never let you out of his sight ever again. If you thought he was ready to commit violence to keep you safe before, you haven't seen anything yet.

I can't imagine it would be easy to have a big family in the Wasteland, but reminding him how much he loves being a dad would certainly have the thought on his mind.

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 6

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 7 (SMUT)

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.

Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(

Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.

"This damn sun," I whined.

Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop." 

His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.

The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.

"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building. 

The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me. 

We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling. 

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."

I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood. 

Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."

Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."

Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"

Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand. 

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."

Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground. 

"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me. 

I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest. 

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles. 

"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."

Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?" 

"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.

"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly. 

"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella." 

Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.

"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."

Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."

"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"

I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.

"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."

This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand. 

"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp. 

Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."

-

It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Jet fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up. 

Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth. 

"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?" 

"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.

"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."

I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely. 

As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.

As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.

"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.

Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.

"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."

He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy. 

I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in. 

"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.

"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me. 

This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.

"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.

"Yes?" Someone responded.

"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."

"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.

The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.

"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.

"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.

Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.

I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.

Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"

"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.  

Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.

"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move. 

I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.

Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him. 

I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile. 

I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof. 

"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground. 

I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state. 

After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side. 

"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.

The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood. 

"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.

"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us. 

I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks. 

"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials. 

I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."

She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again. 

He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?" 

"What?" I asked him confused.

"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position. 

"Well-" I start.

"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."

"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."

"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.

Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine. 

I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie

[lacontroller1991]

Feo, Fuerte y Formal (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: Cooper sees you again for the first time in over 200 years

Warnings: 18+ Strong Language, Sexual Suggestions, Divorce, Canon Typical Violence

----------

Feo, Fuerte, y Formal. Words Cooper Howard spoke over 200 years ago back when he was at the height of his career. Back when he had a profitable career, a beautiful home, and a beautiful family. He had fame, wealth, and a future. Until it all came crashing down. When Vault-Tec had initially dropped him from their promotional team, he was relieved, glad to be done with the corporation that was planning the destruction of the world, but with Vault-Tec dropping him, Barb did too. Once Barb found out why her Pip-Boy was acting strangely, she had it double checked by the science division to confirm her suspicions before taking it to Cooper to confront him. His mistake was that he denied he had anything to do with it. If he had lied about this, what else has he been lying about? Yet, it was mutual. Both were caught destroying the very core of their marriage, trust.

The divorce was quick to follow. Despite having the best lawyer he could find, Barb had Vault-Tec, and Vault-Tec could buy out anyone, leaving him with a whopping sum of $30,000 - compared to his net worth of 2 million - and Roosevelt. 

Of course with the biggest name in the country dropping him from their team, his agent promptly dropped him, blacklisting him from Hollywood, ending his career. His one way of making money was no longer profitable. In a way, he was relieved. Hollywood wasn’t what it used to be. It used to be a beacon of hope, a place for everyone, the American Dream. What a load of bullshit. 

If there was anything to make it all tolerable, it’s the time he got to spend with Janey and you. You had come into his life when he wasn’t looking for it. Your bar had practically become his home, but when you got tired of seeing him drunk as all get out and passed out on the bar you quickly offered him a couch to sleep on at your place, and the rest was history. 

Until the bombs dropped, and everything changed. Again. Cooper doesn’t know exactly how he survived. He doesn’t know if it was sheer rage keeping his heart kicking, or if it was the drive to find you or Janey. He knew Janey was somewhere in a vault, safe with Barb, but had you been lucky enough to secure a spot in one, or were you part of the 90% that didn’t have the means to afford a spot.

200 years later and he still doesn’t know. 

Feo, fuerte, y formal. He has ⅔ of them on his belt. Ugly and Strong. Long ago are the days where he was dignified, not that he gives two shits. He did initially. His handsome features quickly hollowed out with his hair coming off in chunks, giving him a ghastly appearance. It took some time to get used to, but after 50 years, he learned not to care. Not like there were people lining up to be with him anyways. If anything, his ghoulish features gave him an edge in everything he does. No one really tries to mess with a 200 year old bounty hunter who has zero qualms about skinning you and eating you, alive or dead. Still, it’s lonesome walking the wasteland without anyone by his side, whether he likes to admit it or not.

The town is quiet by this time of night. From his best guess of the moon in the sky, it’s a little after 1 in the morning. Walking along the streets, he eyes the closed vendors, save for one on the corner. Piquing his interest, he stalks over to the stand, eyes focusing on the elder woman in a pair of dirty coveralls.

“Get lost Ghoul, before I kill ya.” It’s a threat that he doesn’t doubt that she’d act on. Taking a step closer to the stand, he raises his hands, eyes trained on the way she inches closer to the gun undoubtedly hiding below the counter. 

“I ain’t here to cause you any trouble. Was wondering if you had some vials.” Slowly, he places some caps on the counter. He still has four vials, but having more never hurts.

“I done told you,” the lady cocks her gun, pointing it at his head but he’s unfazed, “get lost ghoul.”

“Now Janet, is that any way we talk to customers?” The additional voice causes Cooper to freeze in his spot, his blood turning to ice. That voice, it sounds familiar. A woman moves from behind him to next to him, leaning against the counter. You’ve got to be kidding me. If his heart hasn’t beaten since everything went to shit, it sure is now. 

“We have strict rules, just because you’re special doesn't mean you can tell me what to do.”

Watching from the corner of his eyes, he rakes your body up and down as you sigh. You don’t look a day over the last time he saw you and you still have that radiant aura about you. He surely has to be hallucinating. 

“It’s your store, but wouldn’t you like more money? He’s obviously not feral, just help him out. For me?” Cooper watches as you bat your eyelashes with a smile while the older lady grumbles ‘fine’ and reaches into a bag, shoving vials onto the counter. 

“You owe me big time missy.” With a smile, you take a hold of the vials, nodding your head in appreciation.

“Of course Janet. Just let me know when you want to cash in that favor.” Grumbling again, Janet scowls at Cooper before slamming the window shut and turning off the light. “Here you are. Don’t normally see new folks around this area.” Cooper tilts his head lower, allowing the cowboy hat to cover his eyes as he takes the vials from your hands, your soft looking hands. Oh how he misses those hands. Without a word, Cooper shoves them into his coat pocket and turns around, wanting to get the hell out of there before you try and make more conversation. There’s no way it’s her. She’s been dead, long dead, he thinks to himself, footsteps making a quick pace but you catch up to him, stopping right in front of him with a hand to his chest, causing him to growl. “I understand you probably want to carry on for the night, but why don’t you rest for the night? I have a couch in my living room and some fresh water. I don’t know if ghouls drink water, but I have some.”

He halts for a minute, his hat still covering his eyes and he sincerely hopes that your hand can’t feel his heart beating through his chest. She’s still too pure for this world. “Ain’t you scared imma eat ya?” 

“Pfft no. If you do then oh well. If there’s anything I’ve learned in this world, it’s to take things as they come.” With each passing moment, he feels his resolve breaking. He’s spent years looking for you, and here you are, offering him a place to crash like the first time. Is he going to deny you this time? “Just for the night?”

Sighing, he thinks about it for a moment. He’s ugly now and burnt, there’s no way you would remember him. “If it’ll get you to shut the fuck up.” 

----------

“Welcome to my humble abode. It’s not much, but with how shitty this planet is, I say it’s pretty nice!” Cooper takes a second to look around. It’s not like your previous apartment with sturdy colorful furniture and plants in the windowsill with Cash playing on the radio, but it’s still oddly, you. Barely noticing your disappearance, your reappearance in front of him causes him to lightly jump. How the hell did he not hear you? “Sorry to startle you. I brought some blankets.” “I don’t need blankets,” he grumbles, eyes still hiding behind his tipped hat, one that you wore from time to time when you would roleplay with him. From behind the rim, he watches as you shrug your shoulders, setting the blankets down on the couch before clapping your hands.

“Don’t blame ya. It’s hot as hell out there. Can I get you any food? Water?”  His eyes follow your frame as you pull out a chair from underneath the table, gesturing for him to sit while you grab food from the cupboard, fixing him what seems to be a PB&J? 

“Why are you being nice? Nice people get killed up here.”

“Believe me, I can handle myself. I’ve killed. It’s hard not to up here.” You set the plate down in front of him, taking the seat to his right. Picking up the sandwich, he inspects the bread, hesitantly taking a sniff before taking a bite, moaning softly as the creamy texture of peanut butter balances out with the fruity jelly. Did PB&J ever taste this good?

“Where the hell did you even get this stuff?” You shift in the seat next to him, crossing your arms while he munches on the sandwich. Fuck, he misses actual food. “Stole it from a vault.”

“A vault?” It’s abrupt. She’s been in a vault this whole damn time? 

He can tell that he struck a sore spot, but now he’s too intrigued. Seeming to notice that he won’t drop the subject, you let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles. “Yep. I was there when the bombs dropped. Went to my dad’s house to check on him but he dragged me with him to a vault and put me in a cryogenic pod. Woke up two years ago, found out some fucked up things, left with a shit load of food and weapons, never looking back. I mean… the stuff down in the vault… FUCKED up.” 

Cooper leans forward, swallowing the rest of his PB&J. “Go on.”

“Well, different vaults have different experiments. Mine was an interconnected vault but something always seemed off. Now I get being nice to your neighbors or whatever, but there is no reason the people in that vault were that nice. It’s like they were overly optimistic. So weird.”

Cooper huffs out a laugh, memories of you always supporting him no matter what flooding through his brain. “You were always optimistic.” The words slip out of his mouth causing the both of you to freeze. Internally cringing, Cooper wishes that he was strapped to the tip of a nuclear bomb and exploded, 20 times over.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” He can feel your eyes raking over him, trying to make a connection and he wonders if you have yet or not.

“Not until today.” Shoving the plate aside, he quickly gets up and makes a move toward the door but he has to give credit where credit is due. You’re fast and standing in his way, gun cocked and aiming at his head.

“Not so fast cowboy, who the fuck are you and how do you know me?” He avoids making your gaze but you’re unrelenting. 

“I ain’t no one, you’d be wise to let me leave.” He tries to move past you again, but you block his path, using your gun to knock off his hat, revealing all of him to you, his hazel eyes meeting yours, causing you to gasp. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. She knows. “I can explain.”

The gun decocks with a soft click and drops to the floor, a pair of arms flinging themselves around his shoulders, dragging him into a soft body. She’s even softer than I remember. It takes everything in Cooper to not sink in your grasp. It takes everything in him to not take you in his arms and make up for lost time. 

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were too. You still making it a habit of inviting strangers into your house?” His arms hang by his side, not daring to return the hug, afraid of what would happen if he did. Seeming to take the hint, you let go of him and he doesn’t miss the hurt in your eyes and he wishes he can take it away, but it’s better this way. You don’t want to mess with him. He’s a monster. It’s all he’ll ever be. The Cooper Howard that you know is long gone like the world that you both knew. You deserve someone who doesn’t eat ass jerky. You deserve someone who isn’t addicted to drugs. You deserve someone who doesn’t have one foot constantly in the grave. You deserve someone who is handsome, not ugly.

“Only handsome cowpokes like yourself,” he would smile at your jest, but now he’s insecure. 200 years of living on his own forges him to be as tough as steel, removing any feelings he may have had, but one hour in your presence? It has the old him rearing his head, but a thought creeps in his mind, and he runs with it. Surely you’re mocking him.

Sneering, he takes a step toward you, opening his posture to make him appear larger. “You can’t really mean that. You think it’s funny making fun of me?”

“What?”

“Calling me handsome? I ain’t handsome.” He can tell that you can see right through him and his bravado. He knows that you can see his feelings behind his mask. 

He hesitates as you take a step toward him, hands reaching up to take his face between your palms while his breathing hitches. He hasn’t had tender affection in a while. “Cooper, it’s clear that time hasn’t been kind to you, but if you think that I really care about looks then you’re not as smart as I remember you. When have I ever cared about your appearance?”

“You digged my hair if I can recall.” He tries to play it off, but fails and you know it, so you call his bluff.

“If your skin is this rigid now, I can imagine how the rest of you must be.” He blushes, hard. “I’ve missed you.” He moans softly as you place a lingering kiss against his lips, his arousal growing rapidly in his pants. The kiss ends too soon and you’re pulling away, eyes blown wide as he gets a good look at you. 

“I’ve missed you too. More than you could know. What say we use that couch for reasons other than sleeping?”

“Sounds mighty fine.”

[railingsofsorrow]

death and all of its friends

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: you have an important witness admitted to Grey Sloan Hospital, but things get out of hand in the middle of your questioning. the unsub is on the loose and your team is still on their way. it's the worst that could happen, right? except that you end up stuck in an elevator with your ex. and that is worse. ( slight crossover between GA and CM ) 

pairing: s.reid x f!bau!reader; past!jackson avery x f!bau!reader 

w.c: 5.8K

warnings/content: heavy discussions about trauma regarding a mass shooting; PTSD; the word kill/murder is there a few times; kidnapping; break-ups; heartbreak; anxiety attack; hospitals; claustrophobia; mentions of surgery and blood and gunshot wound (not really graphic); minor character death (mentioned); there is so much drama in this you might call it unnecessary but I just had to unleash the devil in me; suggestive content (near the end); making out; long paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

a/n: ok ok, like I promised (3000 years ago) here it is. enjoy it and please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone! 

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

Five years ago you walked these same halls running from a mass shooter that entered Seattle Grace and caused havoc. Now, instead of Seattle Grace is Grey Sloan and apparently, not only the name of the hospital has changed. Amongst the Attendings, Residents and Interns there were all new faces, which only made sense since it's been five years and some of the people you knew had left and others died. 

Cristina Yang nicknamed the hospital Seattle Grace Mercy Death once and after all the stories you've been told by your ex-boyfriend's friends, it seemed fitting.  

You liked Cristina's dark humor. She was the funniest person you met in your time in Seattle. You were happy to hear she left to be a cardiothoracic surgeon in Switzerland, and she owned a hospital now, which was great.  

As you passed the cafeteria your head was flooded with memories of Lexi pulling you to have lunch with her after she finished a procedure, her excited rambles about every detail inside an OR — she wasn't Lexopedia for nothing — and the juicy gossip she provided you about the relationships inside this hospital (and her relationship with Mark Sloan). 

You might not have worked with these people but they felt like family once, the missing will always be there.  

Nostalgia had to be left aside for your job though, you had to find an important witness in a case involving the kidnapping of a six-year-old boy. He had been missing for three days, you were running against the clock at this point.  

“Miss Howard's room.” The nurse pointed you towards the room and you thanked her with a polite smile. “She's been sedated, so she may not be totally aware of her surroundings yet. She just got out of surgery.”  

“Alright, thank you.” 

Stab wound to the chest. An argument turned ugly in prison. You recalled Penelope telling you and the team that that was the reason she had been hospitalised. You observed the handcuffs locking her wrist against the bed before approaching.  

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you grabbed it to see a text from JJ.  

Is she awake? 

Yes.  

You pressed send and looked up at wiped-out blue eyes staring back at you with annoyance. You could hear what she was about to say already.  

“I answered all of y'all's questions already, can you people never leave me alone?” 

“Miss Howard, I'm with the FBI,” you started, introducing your name and then, proceeding to the hard part.  

The crease between her brows told you she was unaware of why you were there. “You people locked me up three years ago what is there to do now? Checking up if I'm killing any more disgusting men who deserved it?” 

“Martha, it's about your son, Ben Howard.” The way she immediately froze made your heart clench. Why did it have to be you to give her the news? JJ is way better at doing this, you have no idea of comforting people so you'd rather just not do it. “He's been kidnapped by your husband, Thomas Howard.”  

“Ex-husband.” She tried sitting up with difficulty while being handcuffed to the bed. You helped her. “What— No. Ben visited me with my sister three days ago, he's fine. He wouldn't dare touch my boy.” 

Ten minutes later into your questioning, your back pocket started to vibrate and you pulled it out to see who it was. 

Spencer calling. . .  

“Everything you said is very helpful, Miss Howard, we're going to try everything we can to find Ben.” 

“Please do.” Her voice cracked and you saw the mask of indifference crumble a little. “He's— he's all I got.” 

You nodded, then excused yourself to answer the call outside of the room.  

“Hey, I was just about to update you guys—” 

“He's in Grey Sloan.” Spencer blurted out the first second you answered. “Thomas Howard is in Grey Sloan. Where are you?”  

“What— What about the kid? Did you find him?” You quickly informed the two police officers outside the room to not let anyone else in. “You don't mean he's inside Grey Sloan, right?” 

Hotch's voice rang through the line and you knew you were on speaker. “He's going after Martha. We found Ben, he was unarmed but Thomas's endgame is Martha. And yes, he's inside the hospital at this moment. Do you know where Martha is?” 

“I just talked to her,” you turned your neck to glimpse at her room again subconsciously. “There are two officers outside her room, I already told them. But Hotch—” 

“He's armed, wait for backup.” 

“We profiled him as a psychopath, Hotch. He's impulsive and has no remorse or guilt, you know what he's capable of, especially if he let the boy go.” 

“Kid, don't be reckless yourself. We're almost there—” Rossi tried to intervene. 

“We're almost there.” You heard Spencer's voice and that made you hesitate for a second before hanging up. “Please don't—” 

Your heart was thumping hard and rapidly against your ribcage, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. As soon as you felt numbness in your fingers you clenched your hand into fists and let go, this was the way your body warned you you were about to have an anxiety attack. Thankfully, you were able to notice it before it got to the point where you passed out.  

Your name was called from afar and you halted, bumping into a nurse and mumbling a shaky sorry. The owner of the voice touched your elbow and you flinched, hand immediately searching for your gun. 

“Hey, whoa, it's me, Amelia. I didn't mean to scare you but when I saw it was you I just— it's been five years and you're here!” You withdrew your hand from the holster on your hip, inhaling and exhaling slowly to force your heart to calm the fuck down, you are not in imminent danger. 

“Amy,” you smiled and accepted the hug she was eager to give you. “Hi. How are you?” 

“I'm great, yeah. And you? For how long are you staying?” 

“I'm not. I, uh, I'm here on a case, with the FBI.” You cleared your throat. “Actually, I need your help with something.” 

Fifteen minutes later you had already warned most of the staff and Attendings in two floors to keep an eye out for Thomas Howard. You tried slowing your fast pulse by practicing the guided breathing you learned in therapy all those years ago. You did everything your therapist said, every single step from questioning your thoughts to counting everything blue you found in your way.  

You couldn't stop memories from revisiting your brain. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

You were waiting to have lunch with him.

It was almost one in the afternoon, Jackson was late because of a surgery that was taking longer than expected due to complications.  

It was your day off. One of the rare days you'd appear in Seattle Grace Mercy West before 6 p.m. when your classes at Washington University were over. You were a part of the Psychology department at WU, and a professor for the Undergraduate Program of B.S., Psychology.  

It wasn't usual for you to have a day off but given the amount of days you've been accumulating over the year, it was only fair.  

So you visited your boyfriend in the hospital, patiently waiting for his belated surgery to end so you could have your lunch date. That was until Lexi Gray pulled you into the hospital's cafeteria and you ended up having lunch with her.  

Lexi.  

You remember her terrified face when it happened. It had been a terrifying day, one that no one expected. It's funny how tragedies are never announced, isn't it? They just come barging in and you can't just ignore the door, tragedies do not need to knock.  

It was in that day, that you understood the gravity of that.  

Of course, it wasn't as nearly as bad for you as it was for those who worked at that place. They would have to come back every day and see the walls and that same floor which were smeared with their friends' blood.  

Jackson had lost two of his best friends. He spent two months having nightmares screaming their names during the night and getting mad at himself because you weren't able to sleep. That was the least of your concerns back then. You know something that would forever be etched into your brain was the barrel of a gun being pointed at you and the sound of the safety being taken off. You can't even recall the actual shot, only the pain that followed afterward and Jackson's horrified expression as he held your weak body on the floor.  

You thought you died. Jackson thought you died. Meredith, Lexi, Cristina and everyone else thought you died. In reality, you had just passed out from blood loss caused by a bullet wound to your chest area.  

That must have been terrifying to watch. You couldn't imagine being in his place, you probably would've been crying non-stop at the amount of blood, not saving his life, like he did to you.  

During the recovery process, you remember thinking about the absurdity of your dream of becoming an FBI Agent. If you weren't able to control your emotions on situations like that then what's even the point of anything? 

According to your therapist, what you suffered didn't determine the person you were, which, at first, you judged as complete bullshit. But you understood in later sessions what she meant by that.  

“Is it something you think you are not capable of doing?” 

You looked up from your hands, staring into the gray eyes of Isobel Houston. Jackson had made a compelling deal with you. He basically threw in your face that if he, who was threatened with a gun, was doing therapy, you, who had been shot and almost died in his arms, also had to talk about it.  

And here you were. 

“I'm not sure if I would know how.” You replied, brows twitching with your uncertainty. You were discussing about holding a gun and going out into the field, which was required in the training at the FBI Academy. You told her if you freaked out at the sight of blood then you shouldn't follow through with your decision to become an FBI Agent. 

“Well, that's what training is for, isn't it?” Isobel quirked a brow at you, earning a scoff. “You would learn certain abilities and improve the ones you already have in the academy. They wouldn't expect you to know everything.” 

“I'm not sure if I can.”  

Isobel nodded and wrote something down in the notepad you were planning to steal to see how she was making fun of you in there. 

“It is too soon still. But don't rule out your dream career quite yet. You are healing, it's a process that requires patience, both from you and from others around you. You don't have to think about that now. How about you take some time to yourself, focus on healing, getting better first?” 

A year later you would be forever thankful for those words. Because you didn't give up of your dream career, you made the decision to follow through with it and it worked.  

Partially, at least. 

“What do you mean you were accepted?” Jackson put his fork down as he chewed on his salad, tilting his head in confusion at you. “How can you be accepted somewhere if you didn't even apply to it?” The amusement in his tone instantly died as soon as he saw your serious face across from him. He connected the dots. “But you did apply... didn't you?” 

"Jack, I've always wanted this." 

He offers you a look of disbelief. 

"I know! But- You didn't even talk to me and-" 

"That's my decision." You cut him off.  

"Well, yes, but I'm your boyfriend. I think I deserved to know you were thinking about leaving for four months?" 

It caused a rift in your and Jackson's relationship. Back then, you didn't mind the fact that you were kind of doing things on your own, because your only goal was to leave and maybe, just maybe, forget what happened but the scar you had in your chest had to remind you of it. You never told him that, and you blamed him for not wanting you to leave for four months. Selfish; that was what you called him countless times after you broke up before you left. When, in reality, you had been the selfish one in the relationship.  

Truth be told, you wanted to forget that part of your life. Your completely foolish mistake and how wrong you were. Your healing had taken years and it still wasn't perfect, you weren't unflinching to the threat of an armed man. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to go back to Virginia and crawl into your blankets to feel some sort of safety.  

You had to bring safety to these people when you felt lost and cornered, how fun was that? You felt like such a failure. Years of experience and training going down the drain because of a stupid trauma.  

To add to that, you were currently stuck in an elevator. With a reckless man going after your witness. And your team was close to your location but not quite enough.  

Maybe they were already here since you had no reception and no way of knowing about their whereabouts.  

Maybe they already caught Thomas Howard and Hotch was thinking about his careful words as he fired you for your incompetency. 

“Why is it that when I find you you're always leaving?” 

Right. You got stuck in an elevator with your ex of all people. It was like everything you did not want to happen would materialize in front of you. 

“Jackson," you hissed, rubbing a hand across your face in pure frustration because of the useless phone in your hands. None of the messages were sent. Where were they? How was Martha? 

Hey, Spence. Where are you? 

I'm stuck in an elevator, fourth floor. I don't know what happened.  

You sent those fifteen minutes ago.

“It was just a comment,” Jackson said, shrugging in that infuriating way as if he knew he was right about something. You also knew Jackson Avery's way of deviating from his real problems was to seek anger. And usually, someone was the target. This time, it was you. "What are you doing here?" 

You looked down at your bulletproof vest and glanced up at him. Jackson's brows rose up to his hairline in understanding. God, he could be slow sometimes. 

"You're with the FBI." 

"I am the FBI." 

Jackson blinked, "right. Right. Uh, I- Sorry, I-" his apologetic wince made you relax your shoulders. "I'm sorry, I'm just... This is too familiar." Yeah, you could relate to that. 

"Jackson," your eyes softened but you tried to reassure him as much as you were able to. "This is not the same thing. His reasoning is completely different. What happened then- It won't happen again."  

His bright green eyes study you with a newfound curiosity but you could see some of the tension leave his body.  

"You sound sure." 

"I am," you said. "My team is close by and they're good. Besides, all of the local cops probably asked for backup already. And SWAT is right outside." 

He took a long minute staring you down to nod quietly. The silence that came afterward was uncomfortable. There was so much to say and nothing and the same time. This wasn't the time, but it was inevitable to not think about your last words to each other. You didn't hold a grudge against Jackson, you had no reason to, but he had plenty to do it and you wouldn't blame him. 

Fuck, why was this elevator so hot? Why were the walls so close to one another? 

"I saw you on TV once."  

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat closing up. Your attention drifted towards Jackson's whitecoat.  

"I didn't know being in the FBI made you famous." His attempt at joking had you scoffing despite your current state of mind. "I would've made a career exchange if I knew." 

"You were already rich, why do you need to be famous?" You mumbled with your eyes shut as you tried to calm your erratic breathing down. "Actually, you were already famous and rich, so anything you just said is..." your voice failed. "… complete bullshit." 

He said your name twice and you were obligated to open your eyes. He was much closer and concern tugged his lips downwards.  

"Put a hand on your chest and tell me what you can see." You stared at his lips moving slowly as your vision blurred slightly. He said your name more urgently this time. "Put a hand on your chest and tell me what you see." 

"Your stethoscope," you said as you stared at it, clearing your throat. "F-flyers," you croaked out, glancing briefly above his shoulders to the flyers splattered around. You couldn't see what they were about, but you knew they were there as they had been since the first time you stepped inside this elevator years ago. 

"What can you feel?" 

Your fingers drummed against your ribcage. Your breathing slowing down but not quite there yet. "My heartbeat. Mhm... The-my cold necklace." It was always two things. You thought about one and as you searched for another, you would calm down through the process.  

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your arms, helping grounding you back to earth.  

"Good. Two things you can hear." He was way relieved after your voice stopped shaking.  

"Your voice," you uttered, feeling your fingers moving and the sweat dripping down your back. The anxiety diminished little by little. When you were about to say the next thing you could hear, what you could only describe as two loud shots right outside the elevator doors made the both of you flinch and stare at the metal doors with widened eyes.  

You immediately got into action, thankfully prioritizing being numb over any other emotion at that moment, which was what you should have done from the start.  

"What are you doing?" Jackson asked you confusedly as you tried prying the doors open. "We might not be entirely on the floor-" 

"Help me open this, Jackson and I'll figure it out from there." 

Just then, your phone came back to life. Reception. At the same time, the doors opened without any human force. You didn't have time to see the caller ID before your gun was drawn in front of you and Jackson, ready to fire.  

"Hey, hey, it's me!" The voice you've been craving to hear for half an hour called out your name in front of you. Honey-brown, you thought, locking eyes with Spencer, I can see honey-brown eyes too. "I just got your text, I was looking for you- Hey." He breathed out in your ear as you threw your arms around his neck. His arms squeezed you in comfort. "Are you okay?" 

I am now. 

Your head bobbed up and down as you leaned back to get some distance. PDA wasn't your forte, but you had been triggered just a few minutes ago, and you needed some comfort from the only person who would effectively provide it to you.  

“They got him. He was hidden in one of the on-call rooms on the third floor.” Spencer filled you in before you could ask. He was assessing you thoroughly, looking for any strand of hair out of place, something that would tell him you had gotten hurt.  

You placed a hand on his chest, patting it gently. “I'm okay,” you tried reassuring him, eyes traveling through the room until you found some of your coworkers talking with the local police.  

“You should drink water.” Jackson's voice startled you a bit and Spencer looked behind you curiously. “And sit down.” 

And that comment immediately canceled out Spencer's certainty that you were okay. 

“Oh, I'm fine.”  

“Anxiety attack.” Jackson mouthed to Spencer out of your eyesight. He moved away to talk to some doctors while Spencer stared at his back, trying to pinpoint where exactly did he knew him from and why he was acting as if he knew you.  

But then it clicked.  

Jackson Avery. Harper Avery's grandson. Owner of a share of the Grey Sloan Memorial. Plastics surgeon. 

Right, of course. And your ex-boyfriend. 

“Is Martha okay?”  

Spencer looked down at you, blinking. “Uh-huh. Yeah, she's safe.”  

You gave him a look, “what?” 

“What?” His voice failed, which was a bit embarrassing, really.  

“Just spit it out, Spence.” 

So, he did. 

“Were you stuck in an elevator with Jackson Avery?”  

You almost choked up on your own saliva, earning a grimace from your boyfriend. Your concerned and caring boyfriend wasn't making that question because of pure jealousy, he genuinely wanted to know if you were okay after being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend in the same place you got shot by Gary Clark.  

“I'm sorry I wasn't here,” Spencer said with a sigh. “I should have come with you. I'm so sorry I wasn't here.” 

“Spencer, I'm fine,” you insisted, taking his hand on yours. Fuck it. “Hey, nothing happened in there.”  

He knows that but that's not what he meant. Not in that sense. 

“I'm not jealous.” He felt the need to clarify. He wasn't immune to jealousy but that was neither the right place nor moment for it. He just wanted to know if the reason for your anxiety attack was just being in a confined space or if the other person you were stuck with had something to do with it. “But you— Did he say something to you? To trigger it?” 

It took you a moment to get what he was saying, but once you did, you sighed and pulled him aside away from prying eyes.  

“No. I— It was the images. Memories. And the whole thing of being inside an elevator for more than one minute. He didn't do anything. He actually... helped me calm down.” 

Spencer brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “okay. Good. And do you feel better now?” 

A tender smile twitched the corner of your lips.  

“Yes, I do.”  

“Are you ready to go?” Hotch approached you and Spencer and you watched Emily, JJ, Derek and Rossi exit the hospital.  

“Yes.” But your eyes drifted to the side and you told both of them you'd meet them in the car. “I'll be right there. It won't take long.” 

Spencer kissed your temple on his way out.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

"Are you okay?" 

"Are you?"  

Both of you have been on opposite ends of the room for the past five minutes and none had the courage to break the deafening silence. It should have been you, though. You were the one to ask Jackson for a quick word.  

"Why wouldn't I be?" His brows furrowed as he stared at his hands. He seemed deep in thought. You wondered if he was thinking the same as you. It was a long time ago. It was a long time ago but it is somehow very fresh when he's standing in front of me.  

Because we never got closure. I didn't let that happen. 

"We never talked about it." You sat down in one of the bunk beds, knowing this wouldn't be as fast as both of you liked it to be. Years of a relationship couldn't be fixed in five minutes. You texted Spencer to let him know you'd meet all of them in the motel since the jet would only be available tomorrow anyway, and you didn't want anybody waiting for you.  

"We did."  

"Talking to our therapists is not the same as communicating to each other." You interjected. 

Jackson's gaze flashed with hurt and he looked away.  

“I couldn't stay," you said, biting your cheek because it was so hard to admit that out loud. 

He finally looked up, tilting his head to look at you. “You couldn't or you wouldn't?”  

You clenched your jaw, annoyance seeping through your demeanor. “I wouldn't. It was my dream, it had always been my dream to get into the FBI—into the BAU. I wouldn't give that up. And it's not fair for you to judge me when you know exactly how that feels. Yes, I could have stayed, but I didn't want to.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes, standing up to pace around the room. "Yeah, it was pretty clear you didn't want to stay." 

"Jackson-" 

“Look, I'm not judging. And yes, I do understand. I just think—" He halted and looked at you, green eyes burning into yours. "God, did you have to pack your bags without even talking to me? You made a life-changing decision and you just up and left.” 

Your breath hitched, and something in your chest churned painfully. Guilt, probably. Five years and you hadn't uttered the words he deserved once. 

"I'm sorry." You swallowed with difficulty. "Jackson, I- What I did was unfair and I'm so incredibly sorry for hurting you. You deserved more than that." 

"I've forgiven you a long time ago," Jackson confessed, uncrossing his arms and angling his body towards you. "It's been five years. Those words have been bottled up in my throat since the moment you walked out... but I don't hate you."  

You winced, "but you did hate me." 

Amusement travels through his face. "For a bit, yes."  

"Fair." 

"I'm sorry too."  

You gave him a sad smile. "You didn't leave me, Jackson." 

"No, but I said some pretty hurtful things to you. So, I'm sorry." 

"Mhm, okay." You nodded, shifting on your feet. “You're forgiven too, I guess.”

Jackson offered his hand for a handshake...? You glanced down at it, holding back a laugh because of how awkward he was being. You shook his hand, grinning with a shake of your head.  

Yeah, that could be closure.  

“I saw you on TV,” Jackson repeated what he said before but you weren't exactly alright to actually hear it. “Are you giving out autographs?” 

“I'm giving out this, does it work for you?” You flipped him off. A nurse passed by you and gave you an ugly look while Jackson just smirked.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

As soon as you walked through the doors of Grey Sloan Memorial, exiting the hospital, your eyes caught the back of a familiar lanky figure whose light brown curls waved wildly with the harsh wind of Seattle. 

When you got close enough, you heard an indignant edge to your boyfriend's tone. He was speaking on the phone. Your amusement grew when you realized was on the other line, pissing him off. 

“Yeah, you know what, Derek?” Spencer started but cut himself off upon seeing you arrive at his side. “You're back.” His annoyed tone switched to something softer.  

“What's he pissing you off about now?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Tell him I'll slap his bald shiny head if he doesn't stop.” 

Spencer snorted, covering his mouth. You could hear Derek's telling you to fuck off through the phone before Spencer hung up the call.  

You accepted the urge to pull him close to you by wrapping both of your arms around his middle and lowering your head to his chest. His immediate response was to bury his face in the croak of your neck, the cold tip of his nose grazing your skin made you squirm a little.  

“I thought I told you not to wait for me.”  

Spencer rubbed your back, leaning back slightly to look down at you. 

“I wasn't gonna let you drive back on your own.” 

You chuckled, “are you telling me I'm a terrible driver? 

He hummed, lips quirking up when he kissed the tip of your nose. “You're not as terrible as me.” 

“I'm not sure if that can be classified as a compliment, angel. But you're right, nobody is a worse driver than you.” 

A pinch in your hip made you whine. He started laughing as you gave him a playful shove before getting in the car. Driver's seat. You had to prove a point.  

“How are you?” Spencer asked after a long minute of being silent and you knew he'd be dying to ask that. 

“I'm okay.” You told him, giving his thigh a soft squeeze as you concentrated on leaving the parking lot.  

“How did it feel?”  

You stopped at a red light. The motel was about fifteen minutes from the hospital by car, and you wouldn't go back home today, the jet was only going to be available tomorrow.  

“Suffocating.” You laughed after you admitted it out loud. That was how you felt. “Yeah, that's about it. The moment I stepped inside Grey Sloan I felt cornered.” 

“That's understandable.” Spencer caressed the back of your hand before you had to pull it back to move the car gear. “You haven't been there for five years. You may have seen, smelled, felt, or touched something that triggered you to go back to that very moment. Even though triggers are usually harmless, they cause your body to react as if you're in danger.” He explained, causing your mouth to quirk upwards in amusement. “Which was why I wanted to be there with you.” 

“Hey, that wasn't your fault. And I'm not a little girl anymore, I can get a grip on myself, Spence. We were doing our jobs.” 

From the corner of your eye, you were able to see him lean back on the seat with a roll of his eyes. 

“Well, yes, I know but I wanted to be there with you. You know just... be there.”  

You parked in the motel's parking lot, turning the car off. You inhaled heavily before turning to Spencer, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. Your boyfriend hummed in satisfaction, pulling you closer by the back of your neck. 

“What was that for?” He blinked bleary, voice slightly dazed after your surprise kiss. Your insides turned to mush and fondness overtook your body.  

“I love you,” you said, thumb running across his cheek lovingly. “like... a lot.” 

His eyes sparkled at your statement and he started smiling like an idiot. An idiot head over heels for you. 

“Like a lot?” 

“Like a lot.” 

A harsh tap on your window made your body jerk and you hit your knee against the steering wheel, a loud curse slipping past your tongue. 

Spencer lowered the car window with a glare.  

“Alright, lovebirds. We're going out to the bar across the street to have a little fun. Are you coming or what?” Derek dipped his head as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Was I interrupting something?” 

“How are you so annoying—” 

“There is no scientific explanation for that, angel.” You pat Spencer's shoulder, who huffed while getting out of the car. He was immediately wrapped in a side hug by Derek as you locked your car and followed them both down the street, where the rest of your team waited.  

Emily snorted, nudging JJ with her arm. “Told you he was going to cockblock them.” 

“Emily,” Hotch said sternly, but his mouth betrayed him with a little smile.  

“C'mon, pretty boy.” Derek dragged Spencer to the bar as you followed them inside. “Let's drink the night away to make you forget about seeing your girl's ex, who has the greenest eyes I've ever seen—” 

Your lips parted in astonishment.  

“Hey!” JJ warned him. “Stop that. C'mon, leave him alone you've teased him enough with this.” 

Spencer looked at you, lips pulling into a smile at the scowl you were sending Derek as he walked away with JJ and Emily beside him.

“It's alright,” Spencer mumbled, nudging you to a corner as your team scattered around to find a table for eight. “He's just playing around and I'm not threatened by light-colored eyes, anyway. They're overrated.”  

You huffed out a laugh, surprised at his nonchalant claim.  

"Good." You were so close that your breaths mixed, his eyes falling to your lips and rising to your eyes again. You pulled him flush against your body by the belt loops of his pants, earning a shaky exhale from his parted soft lips. "Cause... You know," you pressed a kiss against his jaw. "There's nothing you should be threatened about. I'm pretty certain of that." 

"You are?" Spencer realized how pathetic he sounded and how needy he was starting to look.  

"I am, angel," you reaffirmed in his ear, leaning forward to kiss him. Before it got too heated, you smirked against his lips, pushing him away gently as he groaned in protest. "Okay, we can pick this up later tonight, now let's celebrate a bit with them, yeah?" 

Spencer sighed, burying his face into your neck for a second and drawing it back to glance at the table their friends chose. It was in a corner of the room, across from where they were currently... talking.  

"Okay."  

"Don't sound too excited." 

"Shut up," he grabbed one of your hands and pulled around his hip at the same time his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders. "You know what I'm excited about-" he pretended to cough upon gaining a light slap on his back as a warning for him to shut up before any of your friends could hear the implication his words were carrying.  

As soon as you arrived at the table, Emily placed a shot before you, claiming you were late for the party. You smiled apologetically at the brunette, bringing the vodka shot to your lips and downing it in one go, gaze locked to your boyfriend's beside you. Oh, this was going to be a long night. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lvtilzs ; @inexplicableeee ; @fkapluto ; @nellxsies

[witchthewriter]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: knife flirting, a bit nsfw but not much

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTJ

Gryffindor

Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You were enemies, you were supposed to be enemies.

・But fate (always) has other plans.

・Your first interaction wasn't the normal law vs outlaw situation

・It was like James couldn't breathe; your eyes, there was something so ... invigorating about them. They drew him in. Words became difficult.

・But when you pulled a weapon, he snapped back into his normal self.

・With his sword pressed against your neck, your smirked and in a flash, twirled and slipped out a hidden dagger. With the sharp knife pressed against his throat, you both subconciously agreed never to hurt one another. Even if you were sworn enemies.

"What's your name?" James said sternly. The height difference made it harder to keep your dagger pressed to his skin.

"Oh, wig, wouldn't you like to know?" And then you lightly bit his ear and disappeared.

・A shiver went down his spine.

・And he hoped no one saw the interaction, because now he was smiling.

・When you were apart, time felt like it was going by too quickly. James was yearning for you, his heart thudding whenever he thought about you.

・After running into each other three separate times, being away from you was too much to bear.

・When you were together, time stopped.

・Eyes looking into eyes. Hands caressing the smallest part of bare skin. Both of you were breathless.

・But you had to keep this from your crew. From the rest of the pirate community.

・If they knew you were together with someone from the law, no one would trust you.

・Your nickname for him is 'wig,' since he always wears that awful powdered white wig. You've told him how terrible it is, but he sees it as another badge for his status.

・Being together means you become more open-minded. You see things from each other's point of views.

・You love the way he becomes so flustered when you whisper in his ear. He always thanks the good god in heaven that he's wearing sleeves because goosebumps erupt as well.

・When he whispered, "I love you," for the first time, you couldn't breathe. This wasn't supposed to go so far. But it did. It has.

・You sat up as thoughts flooded your head.

・Could you ever get married? Would either of you even want to quit your life for the other?

・You looked back at James, who was sprawled in the sheets. His ugly wig discarded, no uniform to be found.

・All you wanted to do was stay in his arms. But your crew could only stay drunk for so long. And you had to get back to them.

・One thing you did know, was that his love would last.

・But your life wasn't ready to change just yet; so you both got dressed, kissed each other goodbye and ... walked away.

・As he had slipped a piece of parchment in your clothes. It read, "forever."

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Literal Angel (James) x Smooth Devil (You)

Soft for exactly one person (You) x Is that one person (James)

"Do you love me or do you love chaos?" (You) x "Yes" (James)

𝑹��𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

The true Enemies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈(s)

Wands Into The Earth by James Newton Howard

First Kiss by Howard Shore

You Can't Catch Me Now by Olivia Rodrigo

[usetheeauthor]

COMING SOON WIP⚠️

Planning to write for Cooper Howard because he’s my current hyperfixation whom I cannot for the life of me get out of my head and need to write for him or I won’t ever be able to write for any other characters I love or have WIPs for. So this came to me inspired by the 2009 movie Chloe starring Amanda Seyfried, Julianne Moore, and Liam Neeson and the Manhwa “The Emporer Is Hard To Please” By Jeongha but of course it’s my own spin on these tales. This is going to be filled with angsty drama, tension, lots of pearl-clutching smut, and twists. P*rn with heavy plot. Barb is just as much a character in this because she’s a fucking babe.

This is only a draft but here’s what I have in store so far!! Lemme know what yall think 😬

…..

Mr. Howard’s So Damn Hard To Tease (MDNI+18)

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Virgin!Fem!Reader, One-Sided Barb Howard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Barb Howard hires you to seduce her estranged husband, Cooper Howard, because —despite their separation—she wants him to have that fire in him that he’s losing throughout the ugly divorce process. In exchange for any success with bringing him out of his funk, Barb promises you an acting gig; something you’ve fought tooth and nail to obtain. Unfortunately…Cooper proves to be a lot harder to tempt than you could have ever imagined.

Warnings below the cut ⚠️

Tags/TW: Age Gap (Older Man, Younger Woman), Acting Teacher x Student, Sugar Daddy!Cooper, Sugar Mama!Barb, HEAVY SMUT, HEAVY ANGST, Dark!Yandere!Reader, Bondage/Toys, Daddy Kink, Innocence/Corruption Kink, Sub!Reader/SoftDom!Cooper, Loss Of Virginity (Bloody), Spit Kink, Degradation Kink, Mentions of Erectile Dysfunction due to declining mental health, mental Dacryphilia, Scratching, Biting, Hair-Pulling, Stockings/Socks Kink, Choking, Wrist Watch Kink, Big Dick!Cooper, Unprotected sex (p in v), Anal play, Nipple Play, BDSM (Master Kink), Pet names (Bunny), Teasing!Mean!Reader, SoftCore-PS!Reader, Oral sex (m and f receiving), Creampie, Breeding Kink, Reader has tragic backstory, Mommy/Daddy Issues, One-sided feelings (Barb x Reader), kissing including (girl on girl), Public Sex, Spanking, Fingering, doggystyle, mating press, full nelson, missionary, cooper is a freaakk, voyuerism/cucking (Barb sees a vid of a steamy sesh with you and Coop), masturbation (m and f), no good people in here except for maybe Cooper, Some Violent Situations, Fallout Lore-Divergent but with some elements of Lore and much more!

[dyns33]

Strange way of life

No, it's not about my sweet Pedro (I'll let Silva be happy with his cowbow), it's a new Cooper Howard story, yaaaaaay !

Her cousins ​​had gently teased her when the name had appeared on her wrist on her eighteenth birthday.

It was nothing unusual, it happened to everyone, even if what was once a joy was now the memory of a lost world. It was very rare for two soulmates to be in the same vault, very rare indeed. Legends.

And unfortunately for Y/N, she was no exception.

If Lucy and Norman were snickering, it was because of her reaction when they read the name.

"… Cooper Howard ? My soulmate is the actor Cooper Howard ?! The famous Cooper Howard ?!"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

"He would be over two hundred years old. Sorry, Y/N, but he's long dead. Maybe he's his descendant, or a guy with the same name."

"But I love Cooper Howard ! I've seen all his movies ! That would make sense !"

"Not really, no." Norm said, visibly a little sad at his cousin's excitement.

Sure, maybe the great Cooper Howard was still alive, in a hibernation chamber, in another vault, and waiting for her.

But even if that was the case, there was little chance that they would ever meet. There was no indication that it would be possible to come out soon, and so the rule was to ignore names when choosing a partner.

If not, humanity would have died out long ago.

Unfortunately for Vault 33, most of the young people were quite romantic. Her brother could try to be reasonable, Lucy stopped mocking to hug her cousin, saying that it was wonderful that she was destined for such a wonderful man.

They had been fans of the cowboy since childhood. At the same time, there weren't many other movies to watch.

A few years later, Lucy had her name, which wasn't that of an actor. At least, not a known actor in the vault, even if it was special. Titus Maximus.

Norman noted that it sounded like a name from Ancient Rome. He joked that his sister and cousin probably had soulmates who could travel through time.

While Y/N wanted to wait as long as possible before making a decision about her love life, Lucy sadly accepted that she would probably never meet Maximus, asking to meet a man from Vault 32 to get married. This pleased neither young Norman, for security reasons, nor Y/N, for emotional reasons. Besides the fact that he could be a dangerous cannibal, ugly and mean, there was nothing to say that Lucy and him would love each other. She could wait for her Titus.

"No, I don't want to wait anymore. I want love, real love. I can't keep dreaming and having fun with Chet…"

"Chet ? Your other cousin ? That's disgusting, Lucy !"

"I know ! That's why I need a husband. And if I ever meet Maximus, I could always divorce him. You can wait for your Cooper if you want, cowboy or whatever. I understand and I don't judge you. So don't judge me either."

That wasn't enough to prevent the massacre that followed. It was only because she had retreated to her room that Y/N escaped death, not seeing Overseer MacLean being kidnapped either.

More than this idea of ​​marriage, she found that leaving the shelter to go looking for him was very bad. She had never really loved her uncle, finding him strange. Her parents had also always been wary of him, even more so after the death of her mother's sister who they followed here before the plague.

But Y/N loved her cousins, both Norm and Lucy, and so there was no way she was going to let her go alone.

The poor widow drugged Chet because he would have been a burden, she already knew that her little brother would only help her get out, and when her cousin insisted on coming, she couldn't say no.

They were probably among the smartest, bravest and most skilled people in the vault. Together, they had a better chance of surviving outside.

However, nothing could prepare them for this devastated world. It was nothing like what their teachers had said. The sun was hot, the air full of dust, the earth barren, and the people rude.

The worst was that mercenary in the city of Philly, who started shooting at everyone while laughing, ready to kill Lucy because she was defending the poor man whose leg he had blown off.

Y/N didn't really want to get involved. She admitted that the treatment inflicted on the one who seemed to be a doctor and his dog was not normal, and that in other circumstances she would have intervened.

But they were not there for that, and if they wanted to find Lucy's father, it was probably better to avoid trouble.

This misadventure was not in vain, however. Because not only were they saved by a man named Titus Maximus wearing a huge sparkling armor, but they also recovered the doctor's head which could be used as a bargaining chip against Henry MacLean.

And above all, they had crossed paths with this ghoul dressed as a cowboy, exactly like in Cooper Howard's films, who spoke exactly like in Cooper Howard's films.

Since the atomization, meetings between soulmates were very rare. So double meetings ? Impossible.

Until a monster ate the head, Lucy kept jumping up and down like a child, terribly happy, immediately forgetting her failed marriage and a little bit about the reason for their presence near this radioactive lake. Even if she hadn't had time to give Maximus her name, there was little risk in saying that their savior was made for her.

"It's him ! I know it's him ! I only saw his face for a few seconds, but he's so handsome, so brave ! Did you see how he didn't hesitate for a second to jump in front of us and take the bullet for us ?"

"Yes, I did."

"I wonder why that horrible mercenary wanted to take that poor man, and what he was going to do to him. Do you think he has a soulmate ? Oh, do you think the doctor had a soulmate ?!"

"I don't know." Y/N sighed, trying to convince herself that it wasn't because the mercenary looked and talked like Cooper Howard that he was the actor, or her soulmate.

She could have asked him the question, when he caught up with them without too much difficulty, while they were wondering how to get the head back. Because without the head, there was no way to save Lucy's father.

Her poor cousin tried to explain it to the Ghoul, while he plunged her again and again into the water, while Y/N could only watch and beg, tied to a pole.

The plan he had put in place to attract the beast worked well, too well, and in the end, in addition to losing what he was looking for, the mercenary had his bag snatched, which obviously contained important things.

"Fuck… Fuck !" he yelled, pointing his gun at Lucy, as if the poor girl was responsible.

He didn't shoot. Visibly changing his mind, he took them both, forcing them to walk without water or food for days, to an unknown destination.

Several times, Y/N hesitated to give her name, to see his reaction. When he asked them after putting a bullet in Roger's head, her cousin answered first and he jumped, not giving Y/N time to speak.

He had understood that they were cousins. He must have thought that they had the same name, MacLean. Not Y/L/N.

She could have said it. Several times. But saying it was getting an answer, and she didn't know which one she wanted.

Either this man wasn't her soulmate and they were going to die. Or they were destined. And Y/N couldn't believe that this abomination, this heartless monster, could be for her. Even less that he could be Cooper Howard, the good sheriff who punished the bad guys and saved damsels in distress.

No, it couldn't be him. She was almost certain of it when he cut off Lucy's finger with a smile.

Arriving in front of the Super Duper Market, it was a surprise to be untied. Then he announced that he was taking two women in more or less good condition, in exchange for vials.

He hadn't killed them, just sold them.

No, he couldn't be her Cooper.

It was totally impossible.

But as Lucy walked through the store trying to stay dignified, holding back her tears, Y/N couldn't help but turn to the Ghoul. If she was going to die, she had to know.

He frowned, waiting to see what she would say, probably in an attempt to gain his pity.

"Are you Cooper Howard ?"

The question surprised him for a moment. Something flashed in his eyes, indicating that it had been a long time since he had heard that name. But he quickly resumed his closed demeanor.

"Not anymore, sweetie."

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

The doors of the Super Dupper automatically closed before Y/N could say anything else or see his face. It probably wouldn't have made much difference anyway.

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Six: Chem Induced Dreams

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: The chems and alcohol fuel some strange dreams for the two of you.... Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, SOME smut (FINALLYYYY), eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.6k

A smoothie and a ghoul lay side by side, their bodies intertwined and in a peaceful slumber, the effects of the alcohol and chems they consumed begin to take hold. Through the night, their minds are transported to a realm of vivid dreams, where reality bends and twists to the whims of their subconscious.

Smoothie

“Please, sir. Please, sir, please.” The man's desperate pleas for mercy echo in the tense silence that hangs in the air as The Sheriff, who is quite obviously Cooper Howard, stands unwavering with his gun trained on him.

“There’s an old Mexican eulogy.” The Sheriff begins, his gaze unwavering. “Feo fuerte y formal. Means he was ugly, strong, and had dignity. Well, Joey, I’ll give you two out of three on that front.”

The sharp crack of a gunshot splits the air, the deafening sound echoing through the stillness as the bullet finds its mark, piercing the man's forehead. He crumples to the ground, lifeless and motionless. Your heart races as you rush over to the Sheriff, the hem of your dress trailing slightly behind you, collecting dust from the barren ground.

His gaze meets yours, weariness in his eyes, hinting at the burdens he carries and the lines he's crossed in the name of justice.

"Oh, Sheriff!" you exclaim as you rush into his arms, "Thank you for saving the town! For saving me!"

"It was no trouble, ma'am," The Sheriff replies, his voice reassuring while he protectively embraces you. "Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit."

The familiar words spoken by him resonate deeply within you, stirring memories of the ghoul from your past who uttered the same words. As you stand in his embrace, the echo of that long-ago conversation plays in your mind. You slowly gaze up at the Sheriff, his touch gentle yet firm as he places one hand around your waist, drawing you closer. Leaning in close, your noses brush against each other in a tender, intimate moment. You close the remaining minuscule gap between you and press your lips to his in a soft, heartfelt kiss.

“How can I ever repay you, sir?” you whisper.

“I believe you already know, ma’am,” he smirks. Firmly guiding you toward a small worktable close by, he lifts you onto it, a rush of emotions and sensations coursing through you. His touch is commanding, his gaze intense as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel his growing bulge press against you, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands move with purpose, exploring every curve and contour of your body. The Sheriff's lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. Your heart races as desire flares within you, a primal need building with each passing moment. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

He pulls your dress up with a certain abruptness, allowing it to slide over your legs and hips, fully revealing you to him. "No undergarments, miss? You’re brave." He murmurs into your neck, his hands firmly cradling your hips as he pulls you closer. His breath on your skin is a tease, his whisper a command.

"Don't move," the Sheriff orders, his thumb beginning a gradual exploration of your intimate folds. The soft moan you emit in response elicits a deep groan from him, your reactions spurring him on. He carefully slips a finger inside you, the sensation sparking a shiver that courses through your body. Simultaneously, a nuclear detonation erupts in the distance. The ground vibrates ominously as the shockwave from the explosion begins to barrel towards you.

As he continues his ministrations, an undercurrent of urgency begins to build. The sheriff's breath hitches as he feels you respond to him. In the distance, the nuclear explosion casts an eerie glow, the rumbling shockwave growing ever closer. Your heart pounds, the adrenaline surging through your veins adding an unexpected intensity to the already charged moment.

"Stay with me," he commands, his voice a beacon of stability in the face of the looming chaos. The blast wave engulfs both of you, yet you remain unscathed. However, the Sheriff's appearance starts to morph grotesquely under the radiation's influence. His clothes fray and tear, his skin blisters and heals into severe scars, and every strand of hair on his body apart from those beautiful lashes you’ve come to know evaporates. His nose starts to deteriorate, the transformation continuing until he becomes The Ghoul.

Despite the monstrous changes overtaking him, the Sheriff's eyes remain the same - dark, intense, and focused on you. "I'm still me," he rasps, his voice now a hoarse whisper. One hand, now roughened and scarred from the ghoulification, reaches out to you as his other hand continues the rhythmic movement of his fingers within you.

“Cooper…” you moan, a mixture of longing and desperation in your voice.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he urges, the command driving you towards euphoria. But just as the waves of ecstasy are about to wash over you... you suddenly wake up, the dream fading into the harsh reality of two men holding weapons. You glance over at The Ghoul, who remains undisturbed, sound asleep with a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Seriously?" you mutter in disbelief.

The Ghoul

The movie hums softly in the background, a mere backdrop to the unfolding scene between the two of you. As he leans in closer, the effects of the chems begin to show, his tough exterior slipping away to reveal a vulnerability beneath the surface. The quiet understanding in your eyes is a cruel sting, a reminder of the man he once was before becoming the grotesque parody of one of his film characters. Your gaze, strangely enough, holds a blend of intrigue, fear, and something akin to... desire?

His lips meet yours in an achingly tender kiss, an act so human. The moment they touch, it feels like a minor nuclear reaction, sparks fissioning through both your bodies in a wave of warmth and despair. Your lips are softer than he expected, the whisper of them against his own triggering a barrage of nearly forgotten memories - laughter, love, loss, all rolled into this one desperately intimate act. He pours his years of solitude and longing into the kiss, the taste of you intermingled with the bitter taste of whiskey.

He pulls away, his eyes meeting yours once more, searching for signs of repulsion or fear. Instead, he finds a silent understanding, a quiet acceptance that fills him with a strange sense of relief. He reaches up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. He can feel the heat of your skin, the pulse of your life beneath his touch, grounding him in a reality he thought he had lost long ago.

You move to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes for any sign of hesitation. "Is this okay?" He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. You lean in for another kiss, this one more intense than the one before. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. His lips move against yours with a newfound urgency, the taste of liquor on his tongue now mixed with something else - a raw, burning desire.

Your touch sends a shiver down his spine, the warmth of your body seeping into his, your heartbeat pounding in sync with his. The heat between you builds, each kiss stoking the fire within. Feeling the urgency of the moment, you start to move against him, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through both of you. His breath hitches, a low groan escaping his lips as he surrenders to the intoxicating sensation.

You eagerly start undoing his belt and pants, your movements hurried and desperate as he trails his tongue and bites along your neck. A soft giggle escapes you, a mix of nervous excitement and desire. A groan rumbles deep from within him as you slip your hand down his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath your touch. Your hand envelops him, stroking him with a firm grip, igniting a fire within him.

Despite the intense pleasure coursing through him, a fleeting thought crosses his mind - does the texture of his skin unsettle you? Has the touch of a ghoul ever crossed your path? The curiosity lingers momentarily before being overtaken by pleasure once more.

You slide your hand over the head, getting your palm slick, then back down his shaft, making him sigh against your neck. The sound of your moan catches him off guard, stirring something within him that he thought had long been buried. For a fleeting moment, he questions whether you matter to him in a way he hadn't anticipated - he barely knows you, after all. He can’t help but thrust a little into your hand in response.

"If you don't slow down, darlin'," he begins, his voice husky with a mix of warning and desire. But your response is to move faster, the urgency between you driving you to press your lips to his in a fervent kiss. His hands move lower to grab your ass, pulling you closer as your tongues entwine in a heated dance of desire. He's on the edge of ecstasy, lost in the whirlwind of passion, but the moment fractures abruptly as his eyes flicker open. The sight that meets his eyes - two armed men and you, with a look of disbelief on your face as he becomes aware of his painfully obvious erection.

“Well shit.”

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2

[mrfartpowered]

you don’t hate Howard, you hate fatphobic tropes

Here at Mr Fart Powered Dot Com, I’m a long-time hater of the “fat best friend” trope and a long-time lover of jerkass characters, so I think I’m uniquely qualified to comment on this LOL

The biggest critiques I see of Howard are as follows: he’s gross, he’s stupid, he’s selfish, he’s lazy. Below the cut, I deconstruct each of these four criticisms not as faults of Howard, but faults of the writing, largely as a result of fatphobia.

These are all traits associated with the fat idiot trope, popularized by Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin. Think about any other character who possess all of the above characteristics. Far more often than not, they’re a fat character. Plenty of non-fat characters possess any of those traits individually — selfishness, stupidity, laziness, and grossness are not exclusive to fat characters. Nor do they inherently make a character 'bad,' irredeemable, or otherwise unlikeable! But all too often, especially in dated media, we see this flimsy, weak writing apply to the fat villain...or the fat comic relief...or the fat best friend.

Howard falls victim to these ugly, annoying 'fat guy' tropes whenever the writing is in need of a cheap laugh, or when they need to make Randy look extra good. Howard does have unique, interesting traits, but they are painfully underutilized in exchange for role fulfillment as the comic relief.

Stupidity

Contrary to what the show wants us to believe, Howard is not a complete idiot. His intelligence may not be of the academic variety (and even this is debatable), but I would argue he is more clever than Randy. Of the two of them, Howard's got more common sense. Randy misinterprets almost every lesson the Nomicon gives him, while H quickly understands each riddle he gets the chance to know about. (See “a ninja’s choice must be chosen by his own choosing,” “don’t go in someone else’s house,” “when facing an unfamiliar foe, seek an unlikely ally.”)

You could argue against this point in Shloomp! There It Is, where he literally gets to see the lesson as it is presented in the nomicon and doesn’t get it. But I’d argue that this was  purposeful mischaracterization in order to further the plot, a point which will unfortunately recur in this essay. The writers care more about Howard as a tool than as a character, but instead of using the capabilities they build within him, they default to stereotypes.

Where conventional academics are concerned, we have one concrete example of his abilities: Howard is incredible at chess. It’s the iconic nerd game; it requires strategy, careful thinking, and the ability to predict your opponent’s moves. Who cares that he doesn't know the pieces' names? Who cares that he doesn’t abide by typical strategies? He can kick artificially-intelligent ass at the game, not to mention follow someone else's plays the way most people follow a football game.

And he's got street smarts that save Randy's ass on multiple occasions. He's more sociable, a better liar, and a quick thinker in stressful situations. Much of this particular point is pulled from @cunningweiner ‘s brain, who pointed out that Howard is really well-received by crowds (Heidi’s MeCast, the talent show, the Tummynator). Another interesting instance of this is Howard’s time as the Ninja — both the fake monster drill ninja, and the actual Ninja. He may not have accomplished his duties as a hero, but the onlookers Absolutely Ate Up his crowd work. He’s not the most physically willing guy around, but he knows how to appeal to an audience. His major flaw in remaining a well-liked public figure is that his ego gets real damn big, real damn fast. But he’s 15! If you blame a teenager for having empathy and esteem issues, I don’t know what to tell you.

Despite his emotional immaturity, Howard is wise beyond his years as a businessman. Before we move forward, I need to tell you: look at this section purely from a business standpoint. You have to forget morals, you have to forget standards, this is Disney XD meta and we are analyzing a man named Weiner, okay?

Okay. Howard embarks on a total of three business endeavors throughout this show, and each one is highly successful. Ninja Agent, weapon reseller, and McFist-o-plex manager. He embodied “work smarter, not harder” every time. Being an agent takes social skill and smooth talking, and clearly he appealed to a wide range of clients (not to mention earned their trust! What would you say if someone called you up and said “yeah, I manage Superman. Want him to appear in a commercial for you?”). Being a manager requires delegation skills and good memory. Reselling Ninja weapons is honestly just genius and I can’t believe he’s the first guy to do it.

Everyone around Howard, and Big H himself, views him as a dumbass. But time and time again, the episodes show us his mental capabilities! Imagine how much fun the writers could’ve had if they’d leaned on a lazy genius trope instead of a fat idiot.

Grossness

I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t think of a single thin character who relies on gross-out humor. Take, for example, Total Drama, a franchise with a bodily diverse cast and a heavy emphasis on gross-out humor. I mean, there’s an entire episode in the original season where every single character pukes onscreen. TD overall utilizes irreverent humor, but while grossness is a major player, it is not the only source of comedy.

And then you’ve got Owen, the only fat character in the original cast. His whole shtick is being fat, greedy, and nasty. Other characters will fart and burp and overeat — all things that Owen does frequently — but they also have other gags. Maybe they’re bitchy, or they’re geeky, or they’re a literal convict. Owen does not enjoy the luxury of character depth. He is only good for grossing out the audience. (Side tangent: Owen has notably made me laugh out loud a handful of times over the course of the four seasons he featured in. But guess what! Every single one of those laughs was begotten from a rare moment when, instead of farting or burping or eating something he shouldn’t, the writers stepped outside the ‘Owen zone’ and gave him a joke unrelated to his fatness. Fatphobic humor is truly a plague.)

I know I’m being a bit heavy-handed, but I want to emphasize how similar that is to RC9GN! Randy does schnasty shit too sometimes, but he gets to be funny in other ways. Grossness is Howard’s primary mode of comedy. During my first watch-through of the show, I remember being outraged at Howard’s tendency to eat Randy’s food, which, of course, was followed by digestion noises or farts. I was too angry to write down which episodes, but I counted four separate instances where they used that exact convention specifically to get Randy angry at Howard, thus catalyzing the episode’s storyline. (At some point I will have to go back and fact-check that, but we’re 900 words deep at this point and this has been in my drafts for over a month, so we move forward for now okay!!)

 We do get to see flashes of other humor from Howard, especially into Season 2! His cleverness and apathy make for hilarious setups. But even these instances are undercut by something foul. An example that comes to mind is Fear Factor, a perfectly fine episode — one that I love quite a lot — except for the very last gag. Really? Howard gets to be normal-funny the entire episode, until the last minute? The idea that his biggest fear is running out of food literally only works because he is fat. Had this joke been given to any other character, it probably wouldn’t have even made it to storyboards. Even worse, if Howard had not been fat, this joke would never have been conceptualized in the first place. It is almost as if the writers are trying to hit a quota of gross-out jokes for Howard. At a certain point, my anger morphed to pure disappointment. That’s how disheartening it is to see.

Selfishness

Okay, Howard Weinerman is selfish. I'll give you that. But just because he's self-centered does not make him a bad person. May I bring to mind Gumball Watterson, Marcy Wu, Louise Belcher? All are textbook examples of selfish characters, and frequently act in their own best interest, but are ultimately good people. I mention them as proof that characters can have negative defining traits without sacrificing the audience’s sympathy. 

Here's where I really get frustrated with RC9GN’s writing... They want to portray Howard as a jerk with a heart of gold — such as in Debbie Meddle — but they always undercut his few selfless moments with a gross-out gag, or a rude offhand comment, usually directed at Randy. Sometimes, Randy will reciprocate, in which case I give it a pass. There, the grossness or general assholery showcases their friendship, instead of putting Howard down for a stale laugh. 

But like I said, that’s the ‘sometimes.’ The ‘often’ is every time we see him almost embody the ‘heart of gold’ part of his attempted archetype, only to be thrown out the window for a lame gag. A specific example is in “Bro Money Bro Problems,” where Howard has cash to spare for once. He immediately opts to spend it on Randy!….until Randy shloomps into the nomicon, then comes out to find that Howard spent everything he had on the Food Hole’s dinner menu. Sure, this was used to set the rest of the episode in motion. They run out of money, but they need more, so they go out and sell ninja weapons. But here’s the thing: for the rest of the episode, Howard spends his money on both him and Randy, rather than just himself, effectively making that dinner menu joke inconsistent with his characterization.

“Well how else would they set the episode in motion?” They could spend it all on arcade games. Or they spend it all at the boardwalk both times. OR, they are just excitable teenagers who realize, hey, this shit is lucrative! Let’s go get rich! Boom. Fixed your episode, fixed your Howard, fixed your fatphobia.

Laziness

Over and over again, the show tries to tell us that Howard is a lazy piece of shit. Other characters regard him as such, and honestly, so does Howard himself. But I would argue that he is no lazier than your average teenager — not to mention, no lazier than Randy! The difference is that for Howard, the writers intertwine his laziness with his alleged stupidity. They try to convince the audience that Howard is too stupid to care what’s going on.

However, this trait is unique from the other three, because I think this one manages to give him depth. Or at least, in my heart of hearts, it has the potential to do so. This characteristic lends to Howard’s most clever jokes, I think, because ultimately:

Howard is capable, but apathetic.

From the earliest episodes, it is established that he aims for minimum effort, maximum benefit. There’s the bit where Randy asks Howard to come up with the plan for once, and they both laugh at the idea of Howard doing the heavy lifting. Or even all the way into “Mort-al Kombat,” he says people are ‘really handing him the answers today’ when Randy puts in the work to get Howard ungrounded.

But just because Howard prefers not to do any work, doesn’t mean he won’t! And when he does put in effort, the results show that he is damn good at what he does. His time as Le Beret more than proves this point: from his ability to work under the radar, to the plans he forms, to the knowledge he has about Mort’s job & McFist Industries that allows him to get all the cool equipment he uses. We also see his skills and capability in “Debbie Meddle” (the ninja dummy), “Viva El Nomicon” (learning Spanish quickly), “Secret Stache” (commitment to the bit), “The Ninja Identity/Supremacy,” and more.

He very much operates under the mindset of ‘work smarter, not harder.’ He’ll get the job done if he has to. He’ll excel at the job if it benefits him. This is a really interesting character mechanic that would have been so much fun to explore. Like I said so many times above, though, the writers most often choose to undercut his abilities in favor of comedic expense.

Conclusion

Howard, in comparison to Randy, is obviously a lot harder to root for. Overall, Randy is a more conventional character with conventional flaws. Like most duos in media, the sidekick juxtaposes the hero — I would even argue that Howard, in some ways, is Randy in reverse. Randy is highly moral, but still has a lot of learning to do skill-wise; Howard is already extremely capable, but also very amoral. Because of this, the narrative places Randy at a higher value than Howard — which, yknow, fair enough! He is the protag, and that’s a great setup for a protagonist. But simply by virtue of being fat, Howard is not treated with the same level of respect as other sidekick/best friend characters.

For all his quirks and flaws, Howard is not a supremely unique character. His basic core aligns with so many other characters. But because the writers lean on his fatness, instead of leaning into his potential and his complexities, it is much harder to root for him — and it strips him of originality. I love this show with all my heart, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t mind the way it treated Howard. He had so much potential, even as the show was airing, and I will forever be upset that the crew squandered it on fatphobic tropes.

[sanasballoons]

Just finished watching ‘My Life with the Walter Boys’ and I have some thoughts:

- I can tell I’m too old to watch this shit bc the weird love triangle with two brothers just gave me the ick.

- Jackie was edging on Bella Swan territory but she was nice and actually had some ambition beyond being obsessed with a boy so she was slightly better. Still like nearly every other character in the show more than her though.

- Also they gave my girl the most ugly boring name - Jackie Howard? Really?

- I wanted to see more of both Nathan and Danny, such sweethearts. Also if there is a season 2 - Danny and Erin pls!!!!

- WHY DIDN’T WE GET TO SEE THE PLAY?!

- Nathan and Skylar, adorable but how Skylar resisted those huge blue eyes for so long is anyone’s guess.

- Alex was a bit of a whiney little bitch but Cole was INSUFFERABLE. Why did he do literally anything he did? He was an asshole who nearly redeemed himself before stripping it all away at the end.

- Cole ruining his mums speech is what made him unforgivable for me, what a tool.

- Felt sorry for his friend too even though he was kind of an asshole, he was obviously just trying to cling onto their friendship and Cole just didn’t seem to care much.

- Basically Cole is a selfish asshole who isn’t nearly as deep as he thinks he is.

- Kiley deserves the world, Alex doesn’t deserve to even make direct eye contact with you sweetie, he has no taste. JUSTICE FOR KILEY!

- Tara also deserved better than that teacher guy.

- Loved Grace as well, she reminded me of myself at that age.

- If there’s a season 2 my girl Erin will become my favourite character I know it. She’s not quite the ‘bitchy cheerleader with a secret heart of gold’ character I love, but she was getting there.

- Love Katherine. And George is HOT!

[sirdindjarin]

A Ghoul and a Vault-Dweller Walk Into a Bar

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.

TAGS: Fluff, pining, introspection lol.

WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol consumption.

Based off of this post ! I loved the idea and couldn't get it out of my head.

AO3 link 🤠

A few days after the events of the last episode, the Ghoul and Lucy take solace in a quiet saloon, only to find their dynamic is changing.

“Ain’t this a peach,” the Ghoul muttered, taking in the New Vegas saloon. It was a postwar attempt to recreate what no one still walking had ever experienced, but it was faithful enough to send the Ghoul back to the set of a movie some two centuries earlier. He could smell the burn of the stage lights, hear the staccato of studio executives arguing, and see PAs stumbling over cables in the background. 

His bittersweet reverie ended when - what else - the Vault Dweller opened her mouth. Again. 

Bouncing on her tiptoes, her wide smile was interrupted only by her exclamation, “Wow! This place is right out of a history book. Oh, gosh, look at that!” 

Hanging from the ceiling was a myriad of materials in various stages of rust and decay. Grimy, glaring patrons grumbled as Lucy rushed past their tables to examine some memorabilia plastered to the wall. She gingerly ran her gray forefinger over the rusted farm equipment. “See these? They used to pull these behind a tractor, or a horse, and it made furrows in the ground. That made it a lot easier for them to plant things like corn, tobacco, wheat -” 

The Ghoul ignored her lesson. Let the history buff have her boring version of fun, it’d give him some peace. After the past three days, he needed it. He strode toward the far end of the bar, spurs clinking.

Lucy had been silent after the revelation with her father. Downright catatonic, almost. The following morning, still in sight of the Hollywood sign, and out of the daggum goodness of his heart (truly, he’d been a saint to even think about it) he’d offered her a hit of an upper, but she’d curled her lip in disgust. No skin off his nose, he’d thought humorously, he would just let her stew. 

Before the sun had set that next day, however, the girl abruptly flipped from traumatized silence to her usual non-stop chatter. He hadn't asked what changed. The Ghoul assumed she'd come to terms with her father being an evil sonofabitch. He expected her trauma would rear its ugly head at some point, but that was a future problem. Once she started talking again, he had again been a saint - he’d only thought about shooting her once. And that only because she had asked him a stupid question. 

You mentioned finding your family. You have kids?

Sidling up to the bar top, his ragged coat slapping gently against the stool, the Ghoul’s attention was drawn to a jukebox against the wall to his right. Colorful lights flashed, dimmed by a layer of dust; but the old machine advertised it was ready to sing. He glanced curiously at some of the songs, felt a flicker of some emotion he wouldn’t put name to, and turned away. He drummed his gloved fingers on the wooden counter, impatient to have something to smother the spark of sadness. Here, the weight of the past was literally hanging over his head.

The Ghoul had directed his focus on the other end of the bar, where the barkeep seemed to be pointedly ignoring him, when a dull scraping sound alerted him to someone sitting beside him - between him and the mocking jukebox. 

“Hi! Barkeep?” Lucy beamed and motioned between herself and the Ghoul, “Could we get a drink, please?” 

The gruff man looked more like a patron than a bartender, all heavy gait and uninterested stare, but he raised his eyebrows at Lucy. The Ghoul laughed under his breath. 

“What?” She asked in a whisper. Grimacing, she worried, “Oh… is that not how you’re supposed to do it?”

“There’s a laundry list of things you shouldn’t be doin’, Vaultie, but flaggin’ down the bartender ain’t one of ‘em.” 

Lucy straightened her posture. “You know, we have established a mutual goal and I would appreciate mutual respect. I don’t think being laughed at is-”

“Sweetheart, I ain’t laughin’ at you; quit bein’ so sensitive,” the Ghoul stated flatly. “Don’t we make quite the damned pair? A Ghoul and a Vault Dweller walk into a bar…” he trailed off with another chuckle.

Lucy relaxed her shoulders, still feeling awkward. “Oh, haha.” 

“All we got is distilled water and tequila. Which’un you want?” The bartender interrupted, though he spoke only to Lucy.

“Uh, I would like to try the tequila. I still have some water leftover and it’ll be fun to try something new.” 

The bartender sucked on his teeth, turned, and left - resenting serving a peppy Vault Dweller and outright refusing to serve the arrogant ghoul seated beside her as though it was a person.

“They don’t much like my kind here, darlin’,” the Ghoul grinned lopsidedly. He tapped his holster with his new forefinger. “I’ll have to get my drink a different way.”

Eyes wide, Lucy nearly stood on the rung of the stool as she shouted to the bartender: “Make that two glasses of tequila, please.” 

The barkeep went still for a brief moment before deciding it wasn’t worth it. He’d seen some weird shit, but if this wasn’t the strangest duo he’d ever served, he’d eat a radroach. He sent the shots sliding down the well-worn wood counter with surprising skill, and they stopped directly in front of Lucy. She nudged one of the grimy glasses toward the Ghoul, who grunted. 

In those old movies, the characters often clinked their glasses together. Excited to perform a toast in a real saloon, Lucy raised her glass toward the Ghoul. Her eyes sparkled so earnestly that the Ghoul briefly considered indulging her. Instead, he tipped the shot glass into his parched mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction.

“Ah,” he hummed. This was nothing like the chems he used to stay sane, and tequila wasn’t his favorite, but damn if it didn’t feel like the alcohol stripped off some of the layers of the past week's shit.

Upon opening his eyes, he was surprised by the mix of amusement and regret in his chest at the way the girl’s face had fallen. It was childishly funny the way he could disappoint her so easily - as though they kept the same standards of behavior - but the pleasure of her disappointment only took the Ghoul so far. 

“Go on, sweetheart,” he goaded, his voice deep and persuasive. “It ain’t top-shelf but it ain’t lizard-piss, either.” 

“I don’t know what either of those mean,” Lucy mumbled as she brought the glass to her lips; she winced as fumes burned her nostrils. Abandoning caution, she threw the clear liquid into her mouth and swallowed as the Ghoul had. The liquid stung as it slid down her throat; her mouth puckered. Fighting the urge to cough, she cleared her throat instead. Lucy refused to let the Ghoul have anything more to bully her about.

Lucy blinked away the wetness in her eyes. The Ghoul was watching her. Lucy couldn’t discern the look in his eye, but it wasn’t one she’d seen before. The Ghoul had made certain of that. 

“That was, um, so good,” she grimaced. But the warmth in her chest and stomach was pleasant. “You want another?”

The Ghoul chuckled, “If you’re buyin’.” 

***

“No, I only meant it as a compliment,” Lucy slurred, blushing furiously. She was only four shots in, but the Ghoul was starting to get concerned that she would throw up on him. Lucy wobbled on her stool. “Really, they’re nice eyes. No, ‘m okey dokey. Wow, this stuff is strong.” She held her hand out in front of her and wiggled her fingers, fascinated by the way her vision seemed to be a half-second beyond reality. 

“Must be. You,” he pointed in her face, “can’t handle your liquor.”

"Hey, it’s my first try," she steadied herself. 

“It’s gon’ be your last if you paint my boots. You look a little green, Vaultie.”

Her big brown eyes refocused on the Ghoul. “Okay, well, distract me. I know you won’t tell me anything about yourself.” 

He tensed. 

“And that’s okay. But I don't even know your name." Lucy threw him a frown, "What if I have to call for you - what am I supposed to say?” 

The Ghoul chewed at the inside of his cheek, tearing away some skin as he considered. He’d had twelve shots. She wasn’t asking anything too revealing; and she had saved his life. And maybe all her “Do Unto Others” bullshit wasn’t bullshit, but he still wasn’t about to crack open like a can of biscuits. The Ghoul gazed down into her doe eyes, then he and the tequila made a decision.

“Cooper,” he answered after safely looking away, his voice rough over the word.

Something scratched at the back of Lucy’s brain. Tipsy as she was, she knew this was important - she did not want to ruin whatever progress they seemed to have made. She nodded and replied politely, “That’s a good name. Cooper.” 

Lucy watched the rainbow of lights as they reflected off the shiny bar. She slid off the stool and leaned over the jukebox, flipping idly through the songs. 

Cooper held his thirteenth shot in his gloved hand as he stared ahead at the blank wall of the now-empty saloon. After they had collectively purchased nearly twenty shots, the bartender had lost all sense of distaste for either of them; he now sat in a chair, dozing, waiting for the Ghoul and the Vault Dweller to ask him for more. 

A gasp came from Cooper’s right. His stool groaned as he turned, and he saw Lucy grinning up at him.

“Look at this song: I Walk the Line. It’s from one of my favorite movies -” 

Cooper's stomach lurched. 

“A Man and His Dog.” Lucy selected the song. “And the main character’s real name was Cooper. Used to watch those old Westerns with - with my dad all the time. The best ones are the ones with him. With Cooper Howard, I mean. He was always the good guy. He never hurt anyone. Well, unless he absolutely had to, of course.” She began to wax poetic about ethics, and her audience of one tuned out. The gruff croon of Johnny Cash filled the otherwise silent building.

Cooper Howard debated whether or not he should tell her the truth. He didn’t know how much she knew about his life as an actor - some of her questions about his family could be answered if she knew about his widely-publicized, definitely-public-record divorce - but seeing her face when she learned that her favorite cowboy movie star was the radiation-ravaged monster sitting beside her would be hilarious.

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Well, would it be hilarious? Cooper wasn’t so certain anymore. Lucy’s disappointment in him was rapidly losing its luster. Her cowboy had fallen a height that would’ve killed anyone else - had killed almost everyone else. The good man she idolized was dead. He wouldn’t resurrect him just to kill him again in front of Lucy. 

For the second time that afternoon, she pulled him abruptly from a reverie. 

“I wonder what it was like. Everyone in these saloons… with a jukebox playing while you dance with a handsome stranger,” Lucy gazed out at the empty room. “It must’ve been incredible.”

Cooper didn’t correct her about jukeboxes and saloons. Instead, he took his thirteenth shot, allowing it to burn away what was left of his judgment. 

“Well, come on down, darlin’.” He held out his hand - the one that was one-fifth her.

Dubious, distrustful despite their fledgling partnership, Lucy’s eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his dark eyes. This man had cut off her finger less than a week before. He’d tried to sell her. 

But this wasn't a desperate game of cat and mouse, and he no longer believed she was a lying murderer. (That conversation had been a hoot. One of the few times he’d asked her a question, Cooper had wondered what possessed her to cut off Wilzig’s fuckin’ head, and, after she told him Wilzig had left her no choice, she tearfully described the sound of his spine severing and nearly vomited. The Ghoul had laughed.) She was here of her own choice. Lucy chose to follow the Ghoul - Cooper - into the Wilds and the Wasteland. She trusted him now, and he her.

“It’s alright, Vaultie. Y’know I won’t bite,” he drawled with a smirk. “Of the two’ve us, which one has bitten the other?” 

“Wh-?” Lucy started to ask, then decided better of it. Cooper had given her his name and his trust. He had been as kind as summer by Wasteland standards, and she would be damned if her manners were the poor ones. She took his hand.

As sure as night is dark and day is light

I keep you on my mind both day and night

The room was spinning, and Lucy wasn’t sure if the blame should be placed on the tequila or the Ghoul who held her so gently. This was a far cry from the lasso he’d thrown around her last week. She opened her mouth, fully intent on telling him See, the Golden Rule is golden for a reason. But when his hand slid slowly from the curve of her waist to the small of her back, she found that the words were missing. 

He guided them in a small, slow circle. Cooper’s chest was pressed up against her own, and it was though his centuries-deep layers of leather and cotton, and her pristine, thick Vault-Tec suit were non-existent. The vulnerability set his teeth on edge, but it relaxed Lucy. She let the music, the alcohol, and the Ghoul take her. Uncharacteristically shy, and somewhat nauseous, she laid her head on his shoulder. 

Cooper hummed along with Johnny Cash, letting himself feel a modicum of peace in this improbable, inexplicable bubble. He could feel Lucy’s heart beating rapidly beneath her garish suit. His own heart felt like the tattoo of a horse’s hooves. Cooper’s jaw tensed as he wondered how she’d feel to know that. He found himself hoping. 

Hope and contentment were as foreign to him as a nose and hair, now. Yet he felt the gnaw of yearning. Lucy was a reflection and a time machine. Maybe that cowboy - the one who deserved both hope and contentment - could live again. 

And happiness I've known proves that it's right

Because you're mine, I walk the line.

[n0vabug]

Toxic

Summary: Maddy thinks the reader is cheating on her

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, Cassie being a bitch and flirting with the reader, slight mentions of drinking, etc. Words: 1.5k

THIRD PERSON POV

(Y/N) was a pretty quiet person, but could be very talkative if she was comfortable enough. (Y/N) had met Kat during their Freshmen year, they quickly became very close. As they got further into high school, they met more and more people and their friend group started to form. Kat, (Y/N), Lexi, Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Rue. (Y/N) had set her eyes on Cassie Howard at first, they dated in their Sophomore year for about 3 months, but Cassie got really controlling and a bit crazy too. After that, (Y/N) went through a bit of a depressive episode, because even though Cassie was controlling and crazy, (Y/N) had still loved her. Maddy quickly noticed (Y/N) during this time, so Maddy decided to try and help her through this. Cassie was her best friend after all, so Maddy gave some great advice and became really close with (Y/N). After that (Y/N) developed feelings for Maddy and accidentally blurted it out once while she was drunk. Maddy mentioned it when (Y/N) was sober, and lets just say, it went great. They started dating the summer before Junior year and during Junior year.

It is Sunday, which was always when Maddy and (Y/N) hung out together, they usually went out to different places. Yes, every weekend, but both of them seemed to really love it and if one of them had a bad week, or just had any stress or something bad going on, that's when they would go to the other's house, and have a movie night with their favorite snacks and drinks, whoever was sad or stressed got to pick the movie they watched and got a lot of kisses and cuddles.

"(Y/N) come here!" Maddy yelled from the other side of the store. "Yes, Maddy?"

"You would look so good in this!" Maddy held up a dress, which in (Y/N's) opinion, was very ugly."1. I love you Maddy, but I hate that color. 2. Again, I love you, but I'm gonna be completely honest, that is really ugly."

"Ugh, whatever bitch, it would probably look better on me anyways." Maddy said jokingly, which made (Y/N) give Maddy a look of offense. "Chill out, I'm just joking." Maddy said, then giving (Y/N) a quick peck on the lips.

(Y/N) and Maddy walked around the mall, with their hands intertwined the entire time, until they finished going inside every store that looked appealing to them. As they were about to walk out, Maddy spoke up, "Okay so like I really need to pee, I'm going to find a bathroom before I get a UTI." (Y/N) chuckled at this and just waited for Maddy outside the bathroom. While standing there, (Y/N) thought she had seen a familiar face walk inside a store. The familiar face being Cassie Howard along with her younger sister, Lexi Howard. It was rare for them to get along like this to the point where they actually did stuff together without their friend group, but it happens sometimes. (Y/N's) thoughts are interrupted by Maddy walking out.

"You ready to go?" Maddy asks.

"Yeah"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine why?"

"You just seem super out of it"

"I'm just kinda tired, Mads. Getting 3 hours of sleep and then drinking an energy drink in the morning, is not the best thing to do, it's starting to catch up with me." (Y/N) says while laughing. Both girls leave the store and get in (Y/N's) car, (Y/N) drops Maddy off at home, goes to her own house, showers, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, (Y/N) got up and got ready for school. When she walked in, she was immediately greeted by her girlfriend.

"Hey!" Maddy yelled as she ran up to (Y/N). "Hi, I got to go to class, okay? I'll see you later!" (Y/N) says. They both say their goodbyes and walk to their classes. (Y/N) was walking to class but quickly got stopped by someone calling her name.

"(Y/N), hey, can we maybe talk for a moment?" (Y/N) turns around, and sees her ex-girlfriend, Cassie Howard. "I guess so, about what?" (Y/N) ask suspiciously, she would have never expected Cassie to be talking to her right now.

"I can tell you're still in love with me, (Y/N)" Cassie says as she grabs (Y/N) by the waist and pulls her closer. "Cassie, what are you talking about, I have a girlfriend, please get your hands off of me." The younger girl says, but Cassie doesn't listen, she lifts up (Y/N's) chin with her finger. "Cassie, stop, I have a girlfriend!"

What neither of them didn't realize, is that Maddy and Lexi had seen the whole thing, Lexi had saw how (Y/N) tried pushing off her sister and wasn't enjoying it, but Maddy on the other hand, didn't realize that (Y/N) wasn't enjoying this, Maddy instead had thought (Y/N) was cheating on her.

"You fucking bitch, did you actually think you could cheat on me and fucking get away with it?!" Maddy yelled at (Y/N). "You know what, (Y/N)? You weren't the fucking shit anyways!" (Y/N) had tears streaming down her face.

"Maddy it's not like that (Y/N) wasn't-" Lexi tried to help (Y/N) out but Maddy shut her up.

"Shut the fuck up, Lexi, this doesn't fucking concern you!" Maddy yelled at the Lexi. "Why the fuck are you crying. You weren't shit (Y/N), you were fucking annoying, and you weren't even that fucking hot either. You were a shitty ass girlfriend, and I hope I never fucking see you again!" Maddy ran to the bathroom with tears in her eyes, (Y/N) fell to the floor with her knees against her chest, uncontrollably sobbing.

"Cassie, why the fuck would you do that?" Lexi yelled at her older sister as she then followed Maddy to the bathroom.

Lexi saw Maddy standing at the sinks, trying to fix her makeup that was a bit messed up since she let a few tears slip. "Maddy?" Lexi tried approaching Maddy calmly to avoid being yelled at again. "I know you don't want me to be talking to you right now, but there is something really important I thought you should know. "What is it?" Maddy says confused and partially annoyed. "(Y/N) wasn't cheating on you, Cassie grabbed her and started being all weird and flirty with her, (Y/N) was trying to push Cassie away, I just thought you should know that." Lexi said which made Maddy's face change to guilt. "Are you sure?" Maddy asked. "Just because Cassie is my sister, doesn't mean I'm always going to take her side, but just trust me, I know (Y/N). She loves you, she would've never done something like that." Lexi before walking out to check on (Y/N).

"Hey, you alright?" Lexi asked (Y/N). "I just don't understand. I mean why did she immediately assume I was doing something wrong, does she not trust me? Did she really mean all those things?" (Y/N) said through tears, Lexi wrapped her arms around her. "She didn't mean any of those things, she was just mad. She may look confident, but deep down she gets scared and insecure. Trust me, she still loves you." Lexi reassured the older girl.

Lexi sat there for a few minutes with her arms wrapped around (Y/N) until Maddy started walking in their direction. "I'll leave you two alone" Lexi walked away and went to her class.

Maddy kneeled down next to (Y/N). "Maddy, I promise I would never do any-" (Y/N) is cut off by a passionate kiss, which was surprising because she thought she was about to be killed. "I'm sorry, I may have assumed a bit too quickly that you still liked Cassie and were cheating on me with her, I just get really scared sometimes? What I said was pretty harsh, and I promise you didn't mean any of it, I was just really mad in the moment. Can you forgive me? I love you."

"I guess I can forgive you, but if anything like this happens again, just please try and ask me about it first instead of yelling, but thank you for apologizing, I love you too." (Y/N) says. "Okay I can try and do that, only for you though, but do you forgive me enough to leave this shitty place and go to my house, we can maybe watch a movie and order food?" (Y/N) smiled at this. "Yeah I do, that sounds great"

Both girls went back to Maddy's house, they both changed into something comfier and laid in Maddy's bed, their bodies intertwined with one another. They stayed like this all day and even after they fell asleep.

A/N Sorry for taking so long to write this, I have been pretty busy 😭😭. Anyways I didn't proofread this because it's 3 in the morning and I have to wake up in 4 hours. If you have any requests for any Euphoria characters, or any characters I write for in general, then lmk, requests are always open. By the way, I have a couple Sam Carpenter imagines on my Wattpad that I haven't posted on here, so if you want to check it out, my Wattpad is @n0vabug! By the way thank you so much for all the notes, I highly appreciate it!

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 27 – NO POWERS

This Love I Hold True by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,219 Tags: Marriage Proposal, College AU, Pre-Serum Steve

Summary: Tony and Steve have known and loved each other for years, and now it's time to make it official.

Reasons why I love it: I never knew that I needed to see Steve ripping into Howard like that, but boy howdy, it's so satisfying. I love both Steve's and Tony's perspectives in this, and the proposal scene just feels perfect for them. This fic is absolutely lovely, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

He Blinded Me With Science by youcancallmearrow

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 9,220 Tags: Office AU, Found Family, Fluff

Summary: The Security Admin Department at Stark Industries has a point system in place to pass the time. +10 points for tagging management with a "Kick Me" post it note +10 points for paging a punny fake name over the office intercom without getting caught +10 points for stealing any office supplies off Clint's desk and returning it in jello +20 points for making Steve swear It's a good thing productivity isn't in the job description.

Reasons why I love it: This is the kind of Avengers team I love to see! They're giving family vibes left and right, and I love how they basically adopt Tony and Bruce instantly. And the Stony in this one is cute as hell, plus I'm giving extra points for morally upstanding decision-making regarding workplace romances. This fic is wonderful, and you should definitely read it!

The weather outside is frightful by BladeoftheNebula

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,552 Tags: A/B/O, Snowed In, Courtship

Summary: “I can’t believe this!” Steve paused, his hand hovering over the piece of firewood. Was that—? “Of all the idiotic, selfish—“ The last of the words were cut off by the wind, but that was definitely a voice. Steve frowned. The voice was too clear to be coming from a truck or a car, which meant they must be on foot. He looked at the heavy fall of the snow. No one should be out in this. Or, Tony is an omega in distress, and Steve is just the alpha-in-shining armour he needs.

Reasons why I love it: Yeees, give me all the mountain man Steve! Neb always writes fantastic A/B/O settings, and this one is no exception! I love how respectful Steve is, especially in contrast with Ty, that weasely ass. And Tony is adorable, as usual. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so I hope you give it a shot!

When Love Comes Knocking (You Out) by itsallAvengers

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 8,591 Tags: Meet-Ugly, Parent Tony, Misunderstandings

Summary: Steve really just wanted to buy some goddamn groceries. Instead, he tries to help a kid who's managed to get lost in a Walmart parking lot and ends up being punched in the face by his irate and panicked father. Surprisingly, this doesn't turn out as badly as it sounds.

Reasons why I love it: Oh Steve, in today's day and age you should've known what was coming to you. I love this entire premise, and protective single dad Tony is always a treat. Also love the bad boy vibes Steve is giving off throughout the whole thing, it's a really cool take on his character in modern times. This fic is fantastic, and you should definitely read it!

What Could've Been by itsallAvengers

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 11,047 Tags: Canon Divergence, Palladium Poisoning, Service Top Steve

Summary: So. Tony's dying. Palladium poisoning is a shitty, painful way to go, but hey: at least it's his birthday party, right? A cool send off. Lots of alcohol and fun and girls and- ...And all Tony wants is Steve Rogers, the stupid Art Professor who used Tony for a booty call now and again and whom Tony had stupidly decided to start falling in love with. Whilst in the middle of getting slowly poisoned to death. God, he wished his life was easier.

Reasons why I love it: This fic is so sad and so beautiful at the same time. All the little signs of how much they care for each other just make my heart melt. I love Steve's reaction to seeing Tony's chest for the first time, and the dialogue throughout the entire fic is incredible. Definitely check this one out, it's so good!

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter Two, Life's too Short

Chapter one <- if you missed it.

Cooper howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean

Post end of season 1

No beta.. I tried to edit 🫠

Ninety five percent written just tweaking

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

There will be canonically typical violence and eventually smut

+18 only

Slow burn sorta kinda

Please be nice this my first fic in almost a decade 🫣

Will eventually post on AO3 once I can get access... or where suggested 🤷🏻‍♂️

They had made it to the outpost. An outpost that was okay with Ghouls anyway. Ghoul's kind wasn't accepted at many places, the whole going feral thing was a bit of an issue. The other issue was that Lucy drew a lot of attention. Even though Lucy had done her damnest to blend in the lack of scars, having all her teeth and most of her fingers was a dead giveaway. She made sure to keep herself close to the Ghoul as he walked into the village. There weren’t many eyes that weren’t looking at them. They made a hell of a sight, a genetically engineered dog, a pre-bomb Ghoul, and Vaultie. Sounded like a lame joke Chet would make back in the vault. 

A man stood up and moved towards them as they walked past him. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Trouble. Her brain screamed to turn around. The Ghoul had already moved, his sawed-off pointed directly at the man, men, there were at least four of them. Lucy’s hand went to her gun holster and they paused. She desperately needed to start listening to those instincts.

“I don’t know whatcha boys are thinkin' of doin', but if you don’t wanna new hole in your meat suit I suggest you. Back. The. Fuck. Up.” Ghoul punctuated the last words with a clenched teeth grimace.  The man held the gun as if it were an extension of his arm. 

The whole place was silent, the scene from when Lucy had originally met the Ghoul played out in her mind. The whole place blasted to pieces in a matter of seconds. She knew the Ghoul had zero reservations about murdering anyone who even looked at him funny.

“We aren’t looking for any trouble” Lucy swallowed, part of her hating that she was always trying to look for solutions that didn’t end in blood. 

One of them gave a near-toothless grin. “Just wanted to say hello to such a fine little thing.” His voice made her skin crawl, as the man moved towards her. “Don’t see too many smooth-skinned Vaultdwellers around these parts.”

“I am sure you’d find a better company with us then,” Another man’s eyes roamed over the Ghoul, “Unless you're a Ghoulfcker.”

The Ghoul’s face tightened, and his finger went to the trigger-

“Wait, can we please not. I don’t want company. In fact, I would actually be really flattered if you just left us alone. Because this is going to get ugly fast” Lucy sighed out rubbing the bridge of her nose. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Part of her had already resigned to the fact that these men were dead.

The four men looked in between each other and then went to draw. The Ghoul blasted the closest two without a second thought. Lucy had pulled and hit the third, the fourth went to bail and Dogmeat had grabbed his calf. He screamed trying to beat the dog off. Lucy aimed at the same time as the Ghoul and brains went everywhere. A bloody mess, it always ended in a bloody mess. 

"Oh for fucksakes. I let the Ghouls in an suddenly everyone's getting blown away." Hollered an older woman from the second story of a building. She was a tall imposing figure with striking red hair streaked with grey. Her clothes where a patchwork of various materials, boot knee high leather of some kind. She looked at the two of them, the only ones left out in the open.

"Well, I will be damned. Is that fuckin Coop?" The women yelled, peering down at the Ghoul.

Coop? That's what the Ghoul's name was, Lucy felt like she had heard that somewhere before. Her mind went over the name a few times trying to place it. 

Coop tucked his shotgun back into its holster, a sly grin turning one corner of his lips up. "Guilty as charged, Tracy." 

The women came out from a lower door and walked up to them. Her face was lined with sun damage and her eyes were probably green once. But now they are more pastel grey. She poked the Ghoul in the chest with a gnarled finger. He chuckled at her, they clearly had met before. 

"I just started letting you radiation suckers back in two days ago. Why the fuck are you shooting up my paying customers?" Tracy gestured to the very dead men. "Who's gonna clean this up now?"

Coop chuckled, patting Tracy on the shoulder. "You and I both know that the roaches, irradiated or not, will have those bodies picked clean by morning."

The woman glowered at him, her hands on her hips. "Supposed you're right, but can we not shoot up anyone else?" She cussed some more and spit something on the ground.

"Well if your customers were more respectful to my companion here I wouldn't have to blow them away." 

The woman's eyes narrowed and she looked over at Lucy. Graying eyes or not, the woman looked as if she could read her thoughts. 

Lucy immediately extended her hand, "Hi, my name is Lucy. I am so sorry for shooting up the place. They did draw on us first." She left out her last name, something the Ghoul had mentioned. Always keep important information to yourself. 

The woman rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. "One less asshole, well guess four. Come on, let's get you two rooms and some grub."

They followed after her, already people were starting to emerge to come to pick over the dead. Lucy tried to not think about the fact they'd probably end up as food for some of the dwellers.

***

Despite Tracy's sour appearance she seemed to be fond of the Ghoul Coop. Happily, giving them both good-sized plates of chicken and something that looked like potatoes? Whatever it was it tasted good and Lucy for the first time in over a week actually ate until she was full.

There was also water. Apparently, the settlement had a spring nearby that they used for drinking water. Tracy was more than happy to tell the tale of how Coop had liberated the well for the settlement. 

“Nothing much was left of the raiders once he came through. Got us clean water and a little peace and quiet. Well as much peace as you can in this waste.” The lady said, patting Coop on the arm.“He can be a pretty big pain in the ass most days. But if there are some caps and moonshine in it he's not bad.”

Coop chuckled, “I promise to only darken your doorstep when raiders are about.”

Tracy patted his arm, “Well let me not keep yah. I have a few rooms available. Lots of folks scattered when the brotherhood knight came by.”

“When did he come by?” Lucy asked, her heart beating in her chest. It was the first time she had spoken beside, ‘Yes Ma'am’ and ‘the food is good’ 

Tracy narrowed her eyes, “Two days ago I'd say. Stole a power core from a few Traders. Bastard. Why? Are you looking for him?”

Coop cleared his throat. “Something like that. He has some information we need.”

Tracy looked between both of them for a moment. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to figure out exactly what they were hinting at. 

“Mmhm. Well, he was heading east.” She fiddled with an old scar on her hand. “Do you want a room with one or two beds?”

“Two beds.” Both Lucy and Ghoul reply.

*Thank you for reading and all <3 are very appreciated. *

*Chapter three *